I would never forget the sight of him in front of my plane.

I had been in the military for a long time, but never before had I seen such fury, neither in enemy nor in my own. In that moment, when Izuna gave himself over to me completely, he saw black, and there was so much venom within him that it spread and killed the entire world.

I didn't shoot him. Of course I didn't because I loved him.

When he turned and left, I didn't hesitate for a second, but left my dying plane behind for his sake. My plane had been badly attacked, causing an engine to start burning. Luckily, it was powerful enough with only one engine for me to have time to land it. And luckily, it was my plane and not someone else's; had it been anyone even slightly less skilled than I was, it would have been impossible to make the landing in the main street that was far too narrow to land easily.

It was still burning behind me, my trustworthy friend, as I followed him. Had I been able to think straight, I might not have since I was in military clothes and I did not want to reveal my secret to him like this. But in the situation, I lost my mind.

And as he saw me, his reaction was just as bad as my greatest fears.

"Why are you wearing enemy military clothes?"

Because I am the enemy.

And hell broke loose.

My subordinates ran up to me.

"Captain! Nice landing. You all right?"

Despite the frightful appearance of an entire group of military men and women, all of them bigger than him, Izuna's eyes were on me, and me only.

"Why do you know these men? Why do they know your name? Why are you wearing enemy military clothes?"

That was when I realised how brave Izuna truly was. Braver than any of us. Most people would crumble beneath the presence of my group, but not Izuna. Izuna must have seen things we could only dream of, to put me up against the wall like that in such a moment.

"Well, well, well", one of my subordinates said when he caught sight of Izuna. "Look who we have here. We told you we would come back for you."

No... Please no.

I saw my worst nightmare, and also my suspicion, unfurl right in front of me. Izuna's brother... He's the one they beat up. I had suspected it, but not it was confirmed.

"You know who he is, Captain?" another asked.

Izuna was still looking at me, gaping, his brows furrowed, unable to speak.

"Izuna..."

"Captain, what are you doing, speaking to him? It's the brother of that cripple bitch." Izuna didn't even flinch. I would make sure to have a stern talking to about how to speak to people with this particular subordinate. And you know who that cripple bitch is?"

I closed my eyes.

I knew. I knew who he was.

He's the man I tortured.

"He's the man you tortured."

I didn't remember opening my eyes to look at Izuna being a conscious decision. But some masochistic part of my brain forced me to. Izuna's face was unmoving at first. Then, it changed to the most horrifying facial expression I had ever seen in my entire life, far worse than the ones on people I had seen who knew they were going to die and were begging for mercy.

If nightmares had a face...

"You..." he whispered. "You were the one who tortured Madara?"

I absent-mindlessly fingered the scar on the ball of my thumb; the scar that was from that time I had shoved my index finger nail into it the deepest.

And I remembered... 

It had been early days. I had already reached the position of the best pilot in the Air Force, but I was not nearly as skilled as I was now. I had been used for other things than flying and bombing then.

Such as this...

We had been given no information about who the man was and why the man was ordered to be tortured. For our safety, we had been told; it would be better if we didn't know. But the instructions I had been given were clear.

"Use whatever means you can to get information out of him about how many bombs they have of the same magnitude as the one used in massive air strike." The massive air strike. Silly fucking name, I had thought, a way to hide the increasing feeling of uneasiness within me as I had learned what I was expected to do. "Then, get every detail you can out of him. About those bombs, their location and their plans with them. The most crucial part is getting him to open his mouth once. Once they have revealed the first piece of information, they usually continue. Once you've gotten everything, kill him."

And I knew that even if I hadn't been forced, I would have accepted the task for the same reason as always; if someone other than me did it, I was afraid the calamities would be far, far greater. This way, I could control the amount of damage.

But the man had remained silent during his torture. Or not entirely silent, but his screams of agony as my subordinates, who was part of the group torturing him, had broken each and every one of his fingers, or forced his eyes open and shone a light in them, or poured candle wax into his eye, was something I tried to forget.

In the beginning, I had performed most of the torture myself, not trusting my subordinates. But after a while, I hadn't been able to anymore. I just hadn't been able to. Even if I had known my subordinates were far less delicate than me, I had allowed them to take over while supervising them.

I had pinched my nail into the ball of my thumb like there was no tomorrow.

The torture had gone on for a long, long time. I hadn't been able to eat. I had hardly been able to sleep. When I had slept, I had been woken up by nightmares almost immediately. I had thrown up every evening, despite my stomach being mostly empty.

And when we had been given the information that enemy soldiers were planning on trying to break him free, I had seen my shot.

It had been the middle of the night. I had gone to the bare concrete room where we had him tied up in a chair. As I had turned the lights on, his eyes had widened in fear, his gaze begging me to at least let him rest from the torture during the hours of the night. We had no longer taped his mouth at that point; he had stopped screaming, going mute.

Seeing his pleading eyes and the blood that had dried on the concrete around him, belonging not to him but his comrades which we had killed in front of him to then force him to drink their blood, I had dropped to the ground and burst into tears.

I had cried and cried and cried, shaking with tears. The man had said nothing, and as I had looked up, he had looked at me with something I had only been able to interpret as curiosity. I had gone to him, and I had loosened the ropes around his wrists, and I had leaned forwards and whispered into his ear.

"Your friends are coming to get you out of here."

And for some reason, I hadn't moved away. I had stayed, leaning forwards, enjoying the close proximity of the man.

"I'm sorry", I had murmured. "I'm sorry I'm such a fucking coward. I'm sorry I didn't do it myself, making sure you were less damaged."

And slowly, very slowly, the man had moved so he leaned his cheek against mine.

And as that had made me cry again, he had kissed my cheek, over and over.

As I had left the room, I had not locked the door behind me, making it look as if though someone had broken in.

When we had come to the concrete room the next day, the man was gone.

Nobody ever suspected me.

That didn't matter now. That didn't matter now as Izuna stood in front of me because I had destroyed his brother's life. No matter how you put it, no matter how good my intentions had been, I had fucked his brother's life, and by extension Izuna's life, up.

How did I get myself into this situation? I wondered. How did I get myself into a position where I feel forced to kill people because I don't trust others to do it less brutally? Normal people who hate war don't join war to keep calamities to a minimum; normal people who hate war stay out of war.

"And you know what the best part is, Captain?" How could it be better than this? "We have some leaked information about who his brother was. Why he was captured and why we were ordered to torture him."

Something started ringing in my ears then. Some black stars started swimming in the periphery of my vision.

And my subordinate revealed the thing that would turn my feelings for Izuna upside down.

"He was the pilot responsible for the massive air strike." The black stars got company by more of their kind, and they clumped together in the periphery to a sticky, black oil that forced its way into my throat and suffocated me. "He's responsible for the death of your brother and his wife."

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. My brain was buzzing as if it was being bathed in acid.

How can life be this cruel?

I looked at Izuna but I saw straight through him.