Post by Raiden Ishimori on Aug 1, 2022 23:16:52 GMT -5
3 years ago…
Raiden blankly stared up at the roof of the makeshift bedroom he had been living in for the past several months in Kitamoto, thoughts for the most part, completely blank. He was longer the AWF Prestige Champion nor was he an employee any longer with the leave that he took. In hindsight, he probably could’ve gone about it better but mixed in with all the other circumstances he had to deal with outside the ring and it made it seem rather pointless to him. With a forceful push of energy, he dragged himself up to a seated position on the edge of the bed. Elbows came to rest upon the tops of his knees, hands joining together in front of them as his gaze shifted over to the floor. There was the matter of his employment that he had to consider and what to do going forward now that his income had been voluntarily cut off. If worse came to worst, there was always the potential to go back to being a salaryman, and hell, even a medical personnel for sports if he still wanted to stick close to wrestling.
Amid his thought process, a soft knock came at the door, prompting him to stand from his spot and walk over to see who was looking for him. He didn’t even bother with straightening out his clothing to look presentable as he pulled the door open, revealing Kazuko on the other side. In turn, Raiden simply leaned a shoulder against the door as the two stared back at one another.
Kazuko: “You look like hell.”
Raiden: “Is my exhaustion that obvious?”
Kazuko: “With the way you’re leaning against the door, yeah. I’m guessing you haven’t gotten a lot of sleep since the tournament.”
Raiden: “Not really, no.”
He pushed off the door and retreated back into the room, the younger talent following after him and letting the door close on its own. The wooden floor creaked slightly beneath both of their weight, earning some reprieve as Raiden dropped back down onto the bed with a huff, going back to his aimless staring up at the ceiling.
Raiden: “I feel like part of my desire to keep on wrestling died that day at the tournament. Just…circumstances withstanding, part of me broke on the inside.”
A sigh falls from his lips.
Raiden: “...and I just don’t care at this point.”
Kazuko: “Hey, where’s this talk coming from? Bone Cold giving up on wrestling? Naaaah…you’re joking right?”
A grim chuckle hums from Raiden’s throat.
Raiden: “I don’t even know the answer to that myself, Kaz. Like I said, part of me just stopped wanting to turn its gears. It’s like…some kind of weird purgatory that my mindset is in.”
Kazuko: “Shit man…”
The young Shirai raises a hand to the back of his head, trying to think of something that could help lift the spirits in the room, but nothing came to mind. Even he was drawing a blank on what to do. He could sympathize with Raiden on the matter though not as much as the current situation Bone Cold was going through. In an attempt to change the subject, Kaz began looking around the room for something and though it felt redundant to ask…
Kazuko: “Where’s Reina at?”
Raiden: “She went ahead of me to our little spot in Hokkaido. Said she felt safer there than continuing to stick around here and I told her I’d be along as soon as I could. I wanted to at least see about signing elsewhere beforehand so I could still keep the income flowing but…yeah.”
Kazuko folded his arms across his chest, mulling some stuff over. There was J-ROK, but that would just be painting a large target on his back if he remained. There always were the other promotions in the States, hells even MCCW again but…to re-spark that fire was going to prove to be difficult to achieve given Bone Cold’s current state of mind.
Kazuko: “Why not at least go for a walk to get some air and help clear your head? It’s what Uncle and I always do whenever our minds feel clouded, and it would probably do you some justice so you’re not just laying here all cooped up in the attic."
Raiden (sitting up): “I suppose so.”
Seemingly reluctant, Raiden manages to pull himself back up from the bed, making his way back over to the door on autopilot, Kaz calling out to him as the door closes behind him.
Kazuko: “I’ll let Uncle know where you’ve gone.”
Raiden opted not to acknowledge it on his way downstairs, nonchalantly making his way out of the house and onto the quiet side street that housed the gaggle of wrestlers. Upon reaching the end of the street, however, his phone begins to vibrate in his pants pocket. Attention drawn, he produces the device from its spot, instinctively answering the phone without bothering to check who was calling him.
Raiden: “Hello?”
Voice: “Is this Mr. Ishimori I’m speaking to?”
Bone Cold slightly pulled the device away from his ear, eyeing it warily for a brief moment before returning it to its post.
Raiden: “Depends on who’s asking.”
Voice (chuckling): “Relax, I’m not the person who you despise. Rather, I’m a business man with an offer in mind for someone like you might have some interest in. A wrestling proposal if you will.”
Raiden: “And why would I trust some guy who’s calling me out of the blue?
Voice: “Well…protection for one thing. If the records and recordings are anything to go by. If I’m being completely honest, you’ve been on my radar for some time, Raiden. Though your stoicism hides it for the most part, eyes never lie. I’ve seen the panic and anxiety that continues to keep itself in its shell.”
A slight growl came from Ishimori’s throat, keeping it low in an attempt to avoid unwanted attention.
Raiden: “You trying to read me like a book isn’t exactly scoring brownie points, buddy.”
Voice: “Not trying to touch a nerve or anything. Just…at least consider my proposal: I can offer protection from the Yakuza that are still hunting for your life, and in exchange, you’ll be guaranteed employment within the Network. You do need the money after all don’t you?”
Raiden (heavily sighing): “...Fine. Just set a meeting point and we’ll discuss this…proposal further.”
Voice (chuckling): “That’s a good man. I’ll be in touch shortly with more details but for now, I have an establishment to run. Ta-ta for now my friend.”
The disconnect noise goes through, leaving Raiden to stare at the cellular device for a long minute before tucking it away in his pants’ pocket. Normally, he would’ve exercised more caution when it came to mysterious folk like that, but given his current circumstances, if it meant staying in the business then so be it. He needed to rediscover that fire in him one way or another…even if it meant accepting outside help.
2 years ago…
The sounds of backstage personnel echoed in the nearby corridor outside the locker room Raiden sat in, gaze aimed at the floor as he sat in a steel folding chair. Beneath his gaze, in his hands, was a black mask with a multitude of snake designs lining it. This was what things had come down to, and that meeting with Kingsley only months prior before the pandemic really took off…this was really the only chance he had at staying the business while protecting those around him. The man in mind, a side door opened up and striding into the private locker room was Hunter Storms, his own mask in hand and Kingsley Solomon, Guy Fawkes mask resting atop his head. Behind them, in walked the white masked Fenrir, color scheme the complete opposite where he had black designs on white attire while Raiden’s was vice versa.
Kingsley: “Figured you were in here.”
Raiden (nonchalant): “Yeah…”
Kingsley: “Hanging in there alright?”
Raiden: “For the most part.”
His focus remained on the mask in hand, grip tightening slightly.
Hunter: “Still anxious I see.”
Kingsley: “Oh let him be. It’s been some time since he last stepped into a ring and there is a fine line between training and actually competing for glory.”
Storms shrugged in turn, leaning up against the door to ensure it stayed closed in case anyone tried to barge in. Kingsley advanced towards Raiden, crouching down in front of him.
Kingsley: “Have you at least tried it on yet?”
Raiden (shaking his head): “No.”
Kingsley: “First time wearing one?”
Raiden: “Second time actually. First time was back in the States for a brief period of time. It was a stupid attempt really at being something I’m not and yet…”
He held up the mask to Kingsley.
Raiden: “Funny how it came back to me in the end. A masked alias, I should say.”
Kingsley (chuckling): “Fair enough. Though, don’t be so dour about the whole situation. This is a fresh start you need, and for Reina. Before you ask, she also fell under the protection plan I promised you so she’s got her back covered by some associates of mine. Don’t read too much into it otherwise you’re gonna hurt yourself before we can get off the ground.”
A light chuckle escapes the man, clapping a hand on Raiden’s shoulder.
Kingsley: “I got a lot of faith that this is what will reignite that spark you lost after what happened last year. This is your time to turn things around and be what you always were destined to be: a person worth remembering with a legacy to carry him throughout the ages. Sometimes, that does require a change of wardrobe…and a change of face.”
Solomon gestures to the mask in the Japanese talent’s hands.
Kingsley: “The Harbingers are awaiting their fourth man, Raiden.”
With a firm pat on the shoulder, Kingsley pulls his mask down and stands back up to his full height before leaving Raiden to himself. Rather quietly, Fenrir makes his way over to Raiden, standing before him as Bone Cold gradually turns his gaze up to him. The white-masked Harbinger slowly nods in turn, giving a sign of approval to the man as he turns the mask around in his grip, soon pulling it over his head and ties it off. Turning the chair, he faces the locker spot that holds a mirror in front of him, along with a couple paint brushes sitting in white paint. With a few rather dexterous strokes, Raiden sets about painting the open portion around his mouth to cover up most of the more notable facial features before setting it aside and staring at his newly masked self in the mirror. He was no longer Raiden Ishimori. Instead…
Kingsley: “And at last, Jormungandr has joined the table.”
Standing from his spot in the chair, he turns around to face the other three, all now adorned with their respective masks. Kingsley nods approvingly behind his mask, as does Fenrir. Storms grunts in his own display of approval, pushing off the door to join the others near the center of the room.
Kingsley: “And with that, we now have all four Harbingers gathered. Kingsley Solomon, The Harbinger of Despair. Joel Hawkfield, The Harbinger of Destruction. Fenrir, The Harbinger of Chaos. And lastly, but certainly not least…Jormungandr…The Harbinger of Pain.”
Raiden nods in acknowledgement as his latest alias. This was to be the start of something…and he had not the faintest idea as to where this road would take him, but…it was for her…and for those who were longer with him. It was to keep his promise…
2 months ago…
Raiden could only blankly stare at the stunned reporters, the Jormungandr mask in his hand stained slightly with blood from his and Storms’ endeavor against The Case Brothers, evidently victorious as shown by his half of the Double Down Championship hanging on his shoulder. His gaze flicks between all those in attendance, no one quite sure on what to pose to him in terms of questions or if he had anything to say…only for the silence to persist as he turned on his heel and walked away from the interview area. His mind had begun to swim about in its own pool of reflection, thinking over what had happened over the course of the last couple of years and the progress he had made since his lowest point: A recent tag specialist, runner-up to the Sakura Tag League, participant in the inaugural Saints & Sinners Cup…and once again he was now a champion. Gold was something he wasn’t entirely sure of as to whether or not he would see in the near future and at minimum he was expecting another couple years before that would’ve happened, but his determination won out in the end and he clinched victory for himself and his stablemates.
Approaching from the opposite end of the corridor, faint applause could be heard, forcing him to perk up as he was met by the sight of Kingsley coming to greet him, Storms not too far behind him with his half of the titles on his shoulder.
Kingsley: “Well done out there, Raiden.”
Bone Cold only nodded in turn, not offering a verbal response.
Kingsley: “A match that certainly deserves praise for the work put on by you, Storms, and The Case Brothers for such a fine display of wrestling. Perhaps one of the best tag matches this company has seen in the years it has been active since its inception.”
Raiden: “Well…a tag division wasn’t exactly around then for the most part…”
Kingsley: “Ah, case in point, you put on a hell of a classic and now look at you. One half, or third really, of the inaugural champions. God, if Brewer were here to see you with another tag belt to your name, Hunter, he’d be mighty proud.”
Hunter (shrugging): “Learned from one of the very best and passed my experiences along. That’s all I did.”
Kingsley: “But it was enough to win you some gold!”
The banter between the two continues to transpire, leaving Raiden a bit out of picture as he blankly stares ahead. A pulsing thought races through his mind, moreso a realization with a lump beginning to form in his throat.
Raiden: “...Where’s Reina?”
Kingsley: “Eh? Oh, right…she’s in the locker ro-”
The Japanese talent quickly pushes past the two, focus pulling away from whatever words were shouted out to him as he power walked his way down the corridor with a destination in mind. His free hand clutched at the gold on his shoulder, keeping it held close throughout the entirety of his trip. His legs ached from the war in the ring but the adrenaline kept him standing for the most part, wanting to just see the one who still remained the closest to him. The one who he had so rarely seen throughout his time as Jormungandr. Not tonight…not tonight was he meeting her as that facade. Eventually, he came to the door that lead to the private locker room for The Harbingers and he quickly burst through the door, startling the lone occupant that sat where Raiden kept his gear. The sight of her quickly made all the adrenaline leave his legs, forcing to collapse onto his knees, title dropping down in front of him. Reina hurriedly crossed the room, kneeling before Raiden with her hands immediately going to caress his face. Tears had already spilled past the corners of his eyes, throat only getting tighter as he tried to form words.
Raiden: “For…for them…”
Reina brought her forehead to his, eyes closing as she softly nodded in turn.
Reina: “I know…they would’ve been proud to see you.”
Bone Cold’s eyes shut in turn, water works being cranked up a level as the intensity practically became waterfalls of tears. Though he was Bone Cold, not even he was invincible to the mental burden he had to carry, but…he could at least make those not part of the present proud from the other side. It wasn’t the first time he had done it, and it wouldn’t be the last…this he silent swore to himself. For now…he could finally let himself fall apart to the deep cuts that had scarred him, and for the first time, deep down in his core, he felt, albeit in a cathartic way…liberated.
Raiden blankly stared up at the roof of the makeshift bedroom he had been living in for the past several months in Kitamoto, thoughts for the most part, completely blank. He was longer the AWF Prestige Champion nor was he an employee any longer with the leave that he took. In hindsight, he probably could’ve gone about it better but mixed in with all the other circumstances he had to deal with outside the ring and it made it seem rather pointless to him. With a forceful push of energy, he dragged himself up to a seated position on the edge of the bed. Elbows came to rest upon the tops of his knees, hands joining together in front of them as his gaze shifted over to the floor. There was the matter of his employment that he had to consider and what to do going forward now that his income had been voluntarily cut off. If worse came to worst, there was always the potential to go back to being a salaryman, and hell, even a medical personnel for sports if he still wanted to stick close to wrestling.
Amid his thought process, a soft knock came at the door, prompting him to stand from his spot and walk over to see who was looking for him. He didn’t even bother with straightening out his clothing to look presentable as he pulled the door open, revealing Kazuko on the other side. In turn, Raiden simply leaned a shoulder against the door as the two stared back at one another.
Kazuko: “You look like hell.”
Raiden: “Is my exhaustion that obvious?”
Kazuko: “With the way you’re leaning against the door, yeah. I’m guessing you haven’t gotten a lot of sleep since the tournament.”
Raiden: “Not really, no.”
He pushed off the door and retreated back into the room, the younger talent following after him and letting the door close on its own. The wooden floor creaked slightly beneath both of their weight, earning some reprieve as Raiden dropped back down onto the bed with a huff, going back to his aimless staring up at the ceiling.
Raiden: “I feel like part of my desire to keep on wrestling died that day at the tournament. Just…circumstances withstanding, part of me broke on the inside.”
A sigh falls from his lips.
Raiden: “...and I just don’t care at this point.”
Kazuko: “Hey, where’s this talk coming from? Bone Cold giving up on wrestling? Naaaah…you’re joking right?”
A grim chuckle hums from Raiden’s throat.
Raiden: “I don’t even know the answer to that myself, Kaz. Like I said, part of me just stopped wanting to turn its gears. It’s like…some kind of weird purgatory that my mindset is in.”
Kazuko: “Shit man…”
The young Shirai raises a hand to the back of his head, trying to think of something that could help lift the spirits in the room, but nothing came to mind. Even he was drawing a blank on what to do. He could sympathize with Raiden on the matter though not as much as the current situation Bone Cold was going through. In an attempt to change the subject, Kaz began looking around the room for something and though it felt redundant to ask…
Kazuko: “Where’s Reina at?”
Raiden: “She went ahead of me to our little spot in Hokkaido. Said she felt safer there than continuing to stick around here and I told her I’d be along as soon as I could. I wanted to at least see about signing elsewhere beforehand so I could still keep the income flowing but…yeah.”
Kazuko folded his arms across his chest, mulling some stuff over. There was J-ROK, but that would just be painting a large target on his back if he remained. There always were the other promotions in the States, hells even MCCW again but…to re-spark that fire was going to prove to be difficult to achieve given Bone Cold’s current state of mind.
Kazuko: “Why not at least go for a walk to get some air and help clear your head? It’s what Uncle and I always do whenever our minds feel clouded, and it would probably do you some justice so you’re not just laying here all cooped up in the attic."
Raiden (sitting up): “I suppose so.”
Seemingly reluctant, Raiden manages to pull himself back up from the bed, making his way back over to the door on autopilot, Kaz calling out to him as the door closes behind him.
Kazuko: “I’ll let Uncle know where you’ve gone.”
Raiden opted not to acknowledge it on his way downstairs, nonchalantly making his way out of the house and onto the quiet side street that housed the gaggle of wrestlers. Upon reaching the end of the street, however, his phone begins to vibrate in his pants pocket. Attention drawn, he produces the device from its spot, instinctively answering the phone without bothering to check who was calling him.
Raiden: “Hello?”
Voice: “Is this Mr. Ishimori I’m speaking to?”
Bone Cold slightly pulled the device away from his ear, eyeing it warily for a brief moment before returning it to its post.
Raiden: “Depends on who’s asking.”
Voice (chuckling): “Relax, I’m not the person who you despise. Rather, I’m a business man with an offer in mind for someone like you might have some interest in. A wrestling proposal if you will.”
Raiden: “And why would I trust some guy who’s calling me out of the blue?
Voice: “Well…protection for one thing. If the records and recordings are anything to go by. If I’m being completely honest, you’ve been on my radar for some time, Raiden. Though your stoicism hides it for the most part, eyes never lie. I’ve seen the panic and anxiety that continues to keep itself in its shell.”
A slight growl came from Ishimori’s throat, keeping it low in an attempt to avoid unwanted attention.
Raiden: “You trying to read me like a book isn’t exactly scoring brownie points, buddy.”
Voice: “Not trying to touch a nerve or anything. Just…at least consider my proposal: I can offer protection from the Yakuza that are still hunting for your life, and in exchange, you’ll be guaranteed employment within the Network. You do need the money after all don’t you?”
Raiden (heavily sighing): “...Fine. Just set a meeting point and we’ll discuss this…proposal further.”
Voice (chuckling): “That’s a good man. I’ll be in touch shortly with more details but for now, I have an establishment to run. Ta-ta for now my friend.”
The disconnect noise goes through, leaving Raiden to stare at the cellular device for a long minute before tucking it away in his pants’ pocket. Normally, he would’ve exercised more caution when it came to mysterious folk like that, but given his current circumstances, if it meant staying in the business then so be it. He needed to rediscover that fire in him one way or another…even if it meant accepting outside help.
2 years ago…
The sounds of backstage personnel echoed in the nearby corridor outside the locker room Raiden sat in, gaze aimed at the floor as he sat in a steel folding chair. Beneath his gaze, in his hands, was a black mask with a multitude of snake designs lining it. This was what things had come down to, and that meeting with Kingsley only months prior before the pandemic really took off…this was really the only chance he had at staying the business while protecting those around him. The man in mind, a side door opened up and striding into the private locker room was Hunter Storms, his own mask in hand and Kingsley Solomon, Guy Fawkes mask resting atop his head. Behind them, in walked the white masked Fenrir, color scheme the complete opposite where he had black designs on white attire while Raiden’s was vice versa.
Kingsley: “Figured you were in here.”
Raiden (nonchalant): “Yeah…”
Kingsley: “Hanging in there alright?”
Raiden: “For the most part.”
His focus remained on the mask in hand, grip tightening slightly.
Hunter: “Still anxious I see.”
Kingsley: “Oh let him be. It’s been some time since he last stepped into a ring and there is a fine line between training and actually competing for glory.”
Storms shrugged in turn, leaning up against the door to ensure it stayed closed in case anyone tried to barge in. Kingsley advanced towards Raiden, crouching down in front of him.
Kingsley: “Have you at least tried it on yet?”
Raiden (shaking his head): “No.”
Kingsley: “First time wearing one?”
Raiden: “Second time actually. First time was back in the States for a brief period of time. It was a stupid attempt really at being something I’m not and yet…”
He held up the mask to Kingsley.
Raiden: “Funny how it came back to me in the end. A masked alias, I should say.”
Kingsley (chuckling): “Fair enough. Though, don’t be so dour about the whole situation. This is a fresh start you need, and for Reina. Before you ask, she also fell under the protection plan I promised you so she’s got her back covered by some associates of mine. Don’t read too much into it otherwise you’re gonna hurt yourself before we can get off the ground.”
A light chuckle escapes the man, clapping a hand on Raiden’s shoulder.
Kingsley: “I got a lot of faith that this is what will reignite that spark you lost after what happened last year. This is your time to turn things around and be what you always were destined to be: a person worth remembering with a legacy to carry him throughout the ages. Sometimes, that does require a change of wardrobe…and a change of face.”
Solomon gestures to the mask in the Japanese talent’s hands.
Kingsley: “The Harbingers are awaiting their fourth man, Raiden.”
With a firm pat on the shoulder, Kingsley pulls his mask down and stands back up to his full height before leaving Raiden to himself. Rather quietly, Fenrir makes his way over to Raiden, standing before him as Bone Cold gradually turns his gaze up to him. The white-masked Harbinger slowly nods in turn, giving a sign of approval to the man as he turns the mask around in his grip, soon pulling it over his head and ties it off. Turning the chair, he faces the locker spot that holds a mirror in front of him, along with a couple paint brushes sitting in white paint. With a few rather dexterous strokes, Raiden sets about painting the open portion around his mouth to cover up most of the more notable facial features before setting it aside and staring at his newly masked self in the mirror. He was no longer Raiden Ishimori. Instead…
Kingsley: “And at last, Jormungandr has joined the table.”
Standing from his spot in the chair, he turns around to face the other three, all now adorned with their respective masks. Kingsley nods approvingly behind his mask, as does Fenrir. Storms grunts in his own display of approval, pushing off the door to join the others near the center of the room.
Kingsley: “And with that, we now have all four Harbingers gathered. Kingsley Solomon, The Harbinger of Despair. Joel Hawkfield, The Harbinger of Destruction. Fenrir, The Harbinger of Chaos. And lastly, but certainly not least…Jormungandr…The Harbinger of Pain.”
Raiden nods in acknowledgement as his latest alias. This was to be the start of something…and he had not the faintest idea as to where this road would take him, but…it was for her…and for those who were longer with him. It was to keep his promise…
2 months ago…
Raiden could only blankly stare at the stunned reporters, the Jormungandr mask in his hand stained slightly with blood from his and Storms’ endeavor against The Case Brothers, evidently victorious as shown by his half of the Double Down Championship hanging on his shoulder. His gaze flicks between all those in attendance, no one quite sure on what to pose to him in terms of questions or if he had anything to say…only for the silence to persist as he turned on his heel and walked away from the interview area. His mind had begun to swim about in its own pool of reflection, thinking over what had happened over the course of the last couple of years and the progress he had made since his lowest point: A recent tag specialist, runner-up to the Sakura Tag League, participant in the inaugural Saints & Sinners Cup…and once again he was now a champion. Gold was something he wasn’t entirely sure of as to whether or not he would see in the near future and at minimum he was expecting another couple years before that would’ve happened, but his determination won out in the end and he clinched victory for himself and his stablemates.
Approaching from the opposite end of the corridor, faint applause could be heard, forcing him to perk up as he was met by the sight of Kingsley coming to greet him, Storms not too far behind him with his half of the titles on his shoulder.
Kingsley: “Well done out there, Raiden.”
Bone Cold only nodded in turn, not offering a verbal response.
Kingsley: “A match that certainly deserves praise for the work put on by you, Storms, and The Case Brothers for such a fine display of wrestling. Perhaps one of the best tag matches this company has seen in the years it has been active since its inception.”
Raiden: “Well…a tag division wasn’t exactly around then for the most part…”
Kingsley: “Ah, case in point, you put on a hell of a classic and now look at you. One half, or third really, of the inaugural champions. God, if Brewer were here to see you with another tag belt to your name, Hunter, he’d be mighty proud.”
Hunter (shrugging): “Learned from one of the very best and passed my experiences along. That’s all I did.”
Kingsley: “But it was enough to win you some gold!”
The banter between the two continues to transpire, leaving Raiden a bit out of picture as he blankly stares ahead. A pulsing thought races through his mind, moreso a realization with a lump beginning to form in his throat.
Raiden: “...Where’s Reina?”
Kingsley: “Eh? Oh, right…she’s in the locker ro-”
The Japanese talent quickly pushes past the two, focus pulling away from whatever words were shouted out to him as he power walked his way down the corridor with a destination in mind. His free hand clutched at the gold on his shoulder, keeping it held close throughout the entirety of his trip. His legs ached from the war in the ring but the adrenaline kept him standing for the most part, wanting to just see the one who still remained the closest to him. The one who he had so rarely seen throughout his time as Jormungandr. Not tonight…not tonight was he meeting her as that facade. Eventually, he came to the door that lead to the private locker room for The Harbingers and he quickly burst through the door, startling the lone occupant that sat where Raiden kept his gear. The sight of her quickly made all the adrenaline leave his legs, forcing to collapse onto his knees, title dropping down in front of him. Reina hurriedly crossed the room, kneeling before Raiden with her hands immediately going to caress his face. Tears had already spilled past the corners of his eyes, throat only getting tighter as he tried to form words.
Raiden: “For…for them…”
Reina brought her forehead to his, eyes closing as she softly nodded in turn.
Reina: “I know…they would’ve been proud to see you.”
Bone Cold’s eyes shut in turn, water works being cranked up a level as the intensity practically became waterfalls of tears. Though he was Bone Cold, not even he was invincible to the mental burden he had to carry, but…he could at least make those not part of the present proud from the other side. It wasn’t the first time he had done it, and it wouldn’t be the last…this he silent swore to himself. For now…he could finally let himself fall apart to the deep cuts that had scarred him, and for the first time, deep down in his core, he felt, albeit in a cathartic way…liberated.