It is times like this when something great enters the world. Something unexpected that can reach souls. Something that cuts through blackness, something that dives into darkness.
On a rooftop drenched by rain, I saw this "hero", only for a moment. From a long way up he came, I could not believe it.
A scream that I had not heard before became clear, down in the alley, a woman in trouble. Two crooks stealing a purse. Would not have even noticed. The "hero" knew what to do. Within the moment of a glance, the crooks were stopped, the woman saved, and he was off again.
***
Wondered why he didn't stick around. Found out years later that he had a bigger threat to deal with. He didn't have time to stop. Dumb "hero" always looking out for those who don't matter.
That night the rain was coming down so hard, maybe that's why I remembered it so well. Something about the rain gives me a chance to experience moments again as if they were fresh, just as if I was still standing on that rainy rooftop watching that "hero" so many years ago.
I looked down at the drenched photo I was holding. It was the same. I found the same "hero" I was looking for.
"Too bad."
This "hero" really looked like he could of made a difference in this hopeless world. A brush of wind picked up. The photo caught and floated away. I watched it for a moment as it fell.
From one of the many hidden pockets on my back I drew what could be considered a knife. (I am not a big fan of the word; it sounds like something I am going to eat steak with. Instead I call it a Kunai, the japanese used this term for a deadly throwing knife. The japanese have my respect, such short little nothings with some deadly techniques.)
The Kunai left my hand in a swiftness that is too hard to describe. It shot through the photo splitting it as if it was nothing. I heard the distinct ring as it wedged into the stone building across the way. The torn photo slowly fell to street below. It made me grin, slightly.
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