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Matsuya stormed onto the prarie, anger seeping from his pores. He dropped the black cloak he carried, letting it find its own way to the ground. Matsuya undid the strap holding Hocho on his back, and the sash holding Shinsou to his waist. All that was left was the tight black t-shirt and his cargo pants. He was panting, not out of fatigue but of anger. He had let Hocho stab into the ground, but layed the sash on it, letting Shinsou drap over Hocho. Matsuya let out a howl of anger and flickered out of existence. He reapered long enough to kick his foot into a boulder, smashing it to pieces. He reapered on top of another boulder, which he plunged his fist into. As the pieces of rock tumbled down to earth he let out a laugh that sounded as if he had gone mad. The muscles in his forearms were flexing on their own, growing as his anger did the same. He could feel the anger in his stomach burning like a fire fueled by hatred. "You idiots!! Are you blind to that which runs the world!?" Matsuya's hair was extending itself, as if growing with his anger. He flickered out again, another three boulders shattered. "I hate this!" Matsuya flashed back into existence, standing on the hilt of Hocho. His hair had grown longer, now hanging down his back. He was panting in fatigue this time. He could feel the after effects of his anger coming now. But he didnt care. He would push himself to the brink of death if he had to. Matsuta hated his life right now, he hated being yelled at by somebody who thought they knew the facts of the world. But Luo was the little rich boy living in the mansion, while Matsuya was the urchin. Matsuya had lived everyday of his childhood thinking he would die a begger. His stomach was always empty, he was always cold at night, he had no home. He never had, not until he met Haku. Then Matsuya had a purpose. He knew he would defend the kid when he had to. He would kill anyone who tried to take his friend, no his brother, from him. Tears streamed from Matsuya's eyes as he thought about it. His eyes looked at the sky, the sun catching on the tears. "What do you know of pain!? You've never lost the person you cared the most about! You live with the finest of all things! What did we have?! Nothing! All we had was the broken remnints of bread people threw out! We were always hungry! We were always cold! We had nothing but eachother! And even that ended! Because of that man I try to make myself like!" Matsuya ripped the bandages from his face and arms, throwing them to the ground. He took a kunai from its holster and stabbed himself in the hand, to prove to himself he was alive and not some kind of creature created by anger and hate. The blood dripped down onto Hocho's blade, eventually finding its way to the ground. Matsuya continued to cry, watching his own blood fall.

Matsuya's eyes never moved from the blood now dripping down his blade. His hair fell down into his eyes, blocking part of his vision. "That word, 'pain'. People think they know the true meaning of it, but they dont. Very few actually do understand it. I suppose I am one of those unfortunate enough to. I regret it everyday. I could have stepped in that day, saved him. But no, I was a coward and stayed back. I regret that every night as I try to sleep. That's why I look tired all the time. I can't sleep at all. If I do, all I can see is that moment when he died. That moment when the boy who was like a brother to me vanished from this world. He killed himself for a traitor and a coward. And I try to model myself after him. And for that, I can never forgive myself." Tears streamed down form behind Matsuya's hair, splashing into the pool of blood. "I hate myself for not doing anything, not stopping him the ngiht he left. I am a coward. I hoped becoming a shinobi would help stop that, but I was wrong. I may look like a warrior on the outside, but I could never find it in myself to kill just because someone told me to. The only reason I would ever kill someone is if they did something to one of the people I care about."

Matsuya looked at his own blurry reflection in the small pool of blood. "I could of done something. If it meant dying, then at least I was with him. I have memories, but that's the extent of it. And all I can see is the regged little kid that I grew up with. I cant see that thing behind the mask. I honestly started to hate the thing he had become. That's why I wanted the old Haku back. But he was beyond turning back." Another tear fell into the pool of blood. Weak laughter emerged from Matsuya's mouth. "There's a problem with that. Blade has already taught me the sixth stage. That's the only reason I can move as fast as I do. My bloodline cant do anything like that until I reach stage three. And even then, it hurts to do it. I was asking for the seventh stage when I was talking earlier. I have no need for anything other than that." Matsuya's dirty blond hair blew slightly, revealing his sunken, red eyes. "I need to be the best I can. I need to find a way to prove the world wrong."

Another drop of blood fell from Matsuya's hand. It fell with a slighty splash into the small pool of blood that had already fallen. His eyes were still red from tears, his dirty blond hair now longer than it had been, down to his back. It blew in the wind, blocking his vision slightly. "Nothing..." He hadnt wanted Ayame to come for a reason. He didnt want her to see him like this. He knew she would want to help, and he didnt want her to. He wanted to let the wounds heal naturally, he to become stronger from the pain. Matsuya stayed where he was, standing on top of the narrow hilt of Hocho. He was perfectly balanced, ignoring the tettering feeling in his stomach.

Matsuya scoffed behind his wall of hair. "At the time, yeah. I was mad. But I suppose he's explained himself well enough. Sometimes people you hate turn into people you respect. I think that is what's happened to me today." Matsuya sighed. "I know I have a temper. Its part of who I am. You were around way back when we were just genin and I got mad because someone had a sword that looked like Hocho. I got all mad and started fighting Blade to let me kill the guy. There are a few people who can stop my tempers. One of them is Blade, one is Zane, and one is right here." He looked at her through the hair covering his face. He would have to cut it back to normal later.

Matsuya laughed softly. "You realize who you sound like dont you? The worried mother act, it sounds like Emiko." Matsuya sighed as he took in the second part. "They wouldn't care. With the state he was in, he wouldn't of cared about me. But I could have brought him back, I know it. I could have brought him back here, and introduced him to the life I lead. The life of the washed up swordsman with to many regrets." Matsuya laughed. He somehow always found that title funny. But then again, he found Jima funny. And Jima was a drunk. Matsuya took a small roll of bandages from his bag. He started to wrap it around his bleeding hand. "Its fine, see. I'll be fine Ayame. Just need a haircut, and I'll be back to normal."

Matsuya bit the roll of bandages, cutting it. He tied the end of it on the back of his hand. "And why, dear Ayame, should I do that? A foreigner is a foreigner, no matter how you toss the dice." Matsuya flexed the fingers on his injured hand. They moved fine, but hurt a little. "A couple days of rest should work fine. And then I can hold a sword again."