The thunder’s belligerent uproar in the Bottomless Canyon was as heavy as his feelings. The crestfallen painting far over his head mirrored his choked lachrymose.
He was incandescent.
The clouds were somber and inky; just like his hazy mind. The rain wept and threatened to fall; just like the tears that he kept bitterly imprisoned.
He would drown them all in the raging thunderclap. Drown them all in the bellow of his hate; his blinding hate for her.
He loathed her.
That damnable woman who reaped his content life like the merciless grim. Reaped his happiness and left him with mere cinders.
That bloodless, ruthless, and savage fiend who tore everything he valued to shreds without breaking a single vial of mercy.
His family, his mother, Hoshido, EVERYTHING.
She was the root of the perennial cascades of misery and tragedy that befell over their homeland.
Her very existence brought havoc and ill-fate to his family; redirected them to a doomed path and harshly bounded their lives into an accursed fate of thorns and waste. Unforgivable.
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