[Metal Tsubasa]: 95.The Story of Arashi.Family Coming

“Sabre!” the messenger called out as he walked through the Raven Camp, “Captain! Kitsune!”
Most of the mercenaries didn’t receive mail, because a good percent of them were orphans or runaways. Captain had ‘stolen’ them and some had certainly not wanted it at the time, but in the end he saved them. So, with it being as it was there were very few that actually received mail and those who did didn’t seem to enjoy having it.
Three rather crude shaped envelopes were dropped in Kitsune’s hands. She looked at them quietly, as if the world around her had disappeared and those three mysterious letters were all that life was. Even without looking at them, Kitsune knew who had sent them, because there were only a few people that would ever write to her and only one of the few ever actually did.
‘Kitsune’ was scribbled sloppily across the front of the envelope, clearly written by a male and it was the same on the other two as well. It seemed strange to see ‘Kitsune’ and not… the name that the female mercenary had tried her best to forget.
“Who would send you a letter,” a rather grumpy voice mumbled from behind Kitsune.
The woman turned around to face the rather disgruntled Arashi. It made a smile crack Kitsune’s face to see the mercenary stare at her like a child drowning in disappointment. She patted Arashi’s head as she said, “They’re from my brother,” trying her best not to smile though it simply wouldn’t fade. “He writes to me quite bit.”
The smile suddenly disappeared all together when Kitsune saw Arashi’s disappointment turn to utter anger. She should have realized that Arashi would react in this way, being that his whole family was either dead of should have been. She had never told Arashi about her brothers, or the fact that she still had a family that loved her. Something like that didn’t seem right to talk about in a world run by orphans and runaways.
Arashi didn’t say anything in response as he turned towards his tent. He couldn’t say anything other than something that would be horribly offensive and for some reason Arashi couldn’t say that to Kitsune. All his rage he kept to himself, his arm twitching violently, to the point where he couldn’t suppress it. Arashi forced himself down onto his cot, squeezing his arm as tight as he possibly could while it writhed under the pressure as if it was nothing. Someone still wanted to be a part of Kitsune’s life, but Arashi had no one like that.
This all made him think back on his family. His mother had always been ill and his father… he couldn’t think about him. There had once been an adopted child, or perhaps there still was, Arashi had left while she was still there. He could remember the day when she had first come into the house and he had almost felt sorry for her, almost, for he was happy that his father would have someone else to hit and yell at, though he would most certainly still hit Arashi. Nonetheless, she was a new face and it made his mother so excited, she even looked well for a few weeks.
It had been two weeks after his seventh birthday when Arashi’s mother came in with the new addition and she was met by a cold glance purpled by a broken nose that his father had given him to days prior. She looked scared, terrified, but Arashi’s mother was such a gentle creature, Arashi guess that the young girl thought that this woman would be some protection for her.
“Ken dear,” the woman had said quietly, “this is Lydia and from now on, she’ll be your sister.”
The girl bowed and Arashi, or rather, ‘Ken’ at the time, nodded his head and turned away. He was jealous of her, not just because she had come and made his, his mother better even for a few days, but because of her innocence and pure heart, he could see it in her eyes as she watched her new brother collect his birthday toys, which weren’t many, and put them away.
She was two years younger than him and frail beyond even Arashi’s own mother. When he would go out to play, she would cling to his mother and looked as though she were about to cry.
“You should play with your sister, Ken,” his mother had told him one night after Lydia had already gone off to bed. “She’s always so lonely when you go out to play.”
He did play with her sometimes, but it always ended in Lydia crying and Arashi getting beaten by his drunken father. Arashi had always been strong, overly strong and the Lydia wasn’t his type of playmate. And, much to his dismay, Arashi soon found that Lydia was never scolded or beaten and he hated her for it. If anything, Arashi was beaten more once Lydia arrived and she always went to school untouched, while Arashi would holler amongst his friends about the fictional fist fight that had left a strong purple mark around his eye, or the broken nose, or any other mark that had actually been left by his father.
“Arashi?” a voice called from beyond the tent, causing the male mercenary to turn back to his reality, his present. “Can I come in?”
He looked sternly towards the flap and then rolled over onto his other side, leaving his back facing the door. “Fine,” he spat.
The flap was opened and Kitsune entered, still cradling her letters, which were unopened as of yet. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she began. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”
“What the fuck do I care?” Arashi grumbled childishly. “It’s not like I have any stupid family to worry about.”