Ah, the wonders of sunlight. The welcome beckoner for life to arise again from their slumber with smiles on their faces. The beacon from the lighthouse in the sky which guides people's lives in order. That which shimmers and brings cheer, he noted, as he watched the random yellow-white sparkle touch the water.

The bright substance was somewhat foreign to Remy. He couldn't sleep that day, so what the hell? Watch the day. Observe the brightness, the radiance! It bothered him somewhat. Why? Because the light was so different than he? Or was it because he was half... nah, nevermind. Now here he was, by the port, watching ducks. Ducks, simple ducks swam in unison, quacking or bobbing their heads under the water to look for food. Ducks who eat, swim, sleep, mate and die. If only life were that simple. Just like a warrior's outlook on life - terribly simple: Become strong, become the best. Beat up others to prove how strong you are. No matter what a warrior does, no matter what kind of training they do or what lives they lead, a warrior's life boils down to that simple formula.

'Why do people yearn to become strong?' Remy wondered. 'Living beings are attracted to strength. Even the lowest of living molecules live by the rules of the strong eating the weak. Survival? That's pathetic. You end up leaving others behind. Others get hurt.'

Sigh. What good is thinking about things that can't be solved, one asks. Nobody ever thinks about the lower man. They never care for the lowly weak. Oh sure, some strong people may think they care, even going as far as to becoming strong to protect the weak, but essentially, weak people are just burdens to carry on their shoulders. Even children, innocent little children, are burdens.

'Blah.'

"Quack quack!"

'Strong people don't care.'

"Quack quack!"

'Then why should I care? Pfft. I don't care for them.'

"Quack quack!"

'Was I ever ignorant like that?' Remy remembered his childhood times when his... ugh... father... no... this man named Moreaux taught him how to fight. Back then, Remy was just as ignorant as the other ignorant fools, although he liked to think he wasn't that stupid. Oh, watch Moreaux! Watch how he punches! Watch how he kicks! Watch how he summons this mysterious energy called chi to manipulate the sound barrier! Apparently it took years of training and meditation to accomplish such a feat.

Remy created the same energy wave on the first try.

On the very first day, on the very first try, when he was only a young sapling - hah, when was that? - he did what probably took years for humans to do. Remy had thought how pathetic it was because doing such a thing was mere child's play.

The Frenchman looked at the palm of his hand which he quickly clenched into a fist. He knew his abilities since day one. He knew what he was capable of. He hated how fighters paraded themselves. "Do you know what? I fight for great justice! Move Zig!"

Remy didn't have to try. He was naturally talented.

Talented?

"You have potential to be a good fighter, Remy." Moreaux spoke. "You have natural talent. Being able to do what takes people years of training only proves it.'

"One day, you're going to be a strong fighter. Just like me."

The ducks flew away in fear, quacking as one followed behind the other in a perfect millitary line. People stopped and stared at the strange blue-haired man, wondering what was the matter with him. After staring at his stillness for a few moments - Remy was too wrapped up in his anger to notice people were alive - they walked away to their own business.

"This can't be..." Remy muttered to himself, running a large hand across his face. "I'm not like them. I'm not a warrior. I don't want to associate myself with them, not after what's happened!"

He remembered the event like it happened yesterday, one after the other.

Remy used to live in a normal home with his father - wait, Moreaux - and younger sister, just like every other normal family. He didn't remember his mother at all. Moreaux told Remy and his sister to never think about the woman. Remy now knew why but before he had not a clue. Anyway, back then, Remy was just as assimilated as he could be... despite that he never got along with any people and that he was nocturnal.

That illusion shattered one fateful day. When Remy returned from home, his father wasn't there. Jeanne was crying. Remy comforted her, saying that Moreaux would return home one day. Those days turned into weeks. Those weeks turned into months. Months of his sister's daily cry of, "When is father coming home?"

Remy was beginning to lose faith.

And then, the following year, the siblings received a postcard. No specific place added. Only the words that ingrained in Remy's mind forever:

Dear Remy and Jeanne,

Are you well? I apologise for leaving so suddenly but I was being called to the warrior's circle once again. Once you become a warrior, you must answer to the call - the drive that keeps you forever in battle, forever yearning to perfect your skills to be the best. I am sorry I can't be with you any longer. Remy, please take care of your sister.

- Moreaux

You're strong. You're able to handle the pain. You expect us to do the same as well. You don't really remember what it's like to be weak, do you? You weren't the one who's illusionary world was shattered. You weren't the one who had to see Jeanne tear herself apart day by day.

"Remy..." Jeanne gazed upon her elder brother with watery, pleading eyes. "Please... take my life."

"I can't..."

"Don't you understand? Our father has abandoned us! He doesn't love us! What will happen next? Will you abandon me too? Will you tear away what's left of my heart like father has?"

"Sister..." Remy enfolded his arms around Jeanne.

"Please do it, Remy... kill me. Why were you the one with powers awakened and not I? I am so helpless to take care of myself. And... even if I did have such powers, I would not know what to do with them. My heart burns my judgement. It's consuming me, Remy. Remy! Kill me!" She gripped his black jacket. "Please!"

Remy's eyes softened. He saw the desperation in his sister's eyes... the lack of will to live. But what will happen to Remy should she die? Jeanne is all he had left as well. Asking her to live for him would be selfish, but she was being selfish for wanting to abandon the world, abandon him...

We're weak, father. We're not strong like you.

"Do you think I know what to do, sister? Do you think that I, with these such... powers... knows what to do? Jeanne, it's not your fault. Neither you or I have any fault in what has happened. Please don't take the burden upon yourself. It's father's fault. Father abandoned us."

"Just kill me, Remy, before I kill myself..." Jeanne breathed.

It was then Remy knew he had no choice. His sister was now nothing more than a hollow shell of a human being or whatever who had no will to survive. Enfolding his arms around his sister one last time, he summoned that same awaited energy into his hands. Jeanne smiled her gratitude as Remy stepped away and she slowly became encased in a prism of cold crystal. Only a few water droplets melted when the deed was done. Remy stepped back, trying his best to numb his pain. There, in the center of his sister's bedroom was his sister, fully encased in ice.

It was then Remy let out an earth-shattering cry.

Jeanne was 'buried' in a grotto well hidden beneath the sea - the place where Remy and she used to play.

When Remy returned home, he had changed. He, too, was gone.

"Father abandoned us because he's a warrior."

He didn't care anymore.

"Warriors are strong."

His thumb sported a wide gash which painted red words along his bedroom wall.

Warriors care for nothing but themselves and their stupid ego!

'A warrior tore our heart and souls away!'

They're strong! Strong people are stupid!

'They don't realize we can't handle the pain! Are all warriors like that? They have to be! And I'll be the one to punish them for the pain they've caused upon us weak!'

I hate them! I hate them all!

'Justice isn't always white...' Remy thought as his finger slid limply along the wall. He fell, exhausted, on his bed.

He quickly found himself yawning. 'About time. Guess I should head home.'

The day people didn't care less for a non-member of their society roaming the streets. He didn't belong, why should it matter at all? Is that what humans seek? A place to belong? Remy had decided for himself he had no place to belong. But isn't that a paradox in itself? He found the place that he belongs in is not to belong in a place at all. Strange. Amusing, the blue haired man smirked to himself.

But there are people who mistake him for one of them, of which Remy encountered on the way home.

Another fighter.

"I've come to challenge you!"

Remy glared. He was too tired to care what this one looked like, not that he'd care in the first place. 'I'm tired. I'm bored. I'm annoyed. I'm not like you. Get lost.'

"Aren't you listening to me?! I said I want to challenge you! I heard what you did to Marcus le Rouge. Now I'm gonna beat you and prove I'm the strongest! I'm gonna be the best there is."

Idiots accept the challenge.

Oblivious people smile and nod.

Remy walks away.

"Hey, you! Wait up! Listen to me!"

Remy gave him the finger.

When you are outcasted from the world of light, they either snub you like the snobs they are or try to assimilate you into their light ways. What do policemen do to prisoners? They either snub the convicts by means of prison or assimilate them into the happy world of innocent bystanders. What does the world of darkness do? They use you. You may have those you can call comrades or a sect you can belong to. But when you think about it, you're essentially alone. When the folks of the night have no more use for you, you're either thrown out or shot. Simple enough.

Two different philosophies. Darkness and light don't attempt to coexist. However, they've never stopped to think that when you boil it down, they both snub total outsiders. People who don't belong anywhere.

That's why Remy preferred the night. He hated the sunny rays of joy and cheer. He hated having to either be part of the crowd - the happy little snobs, or be snotted away. It was better at night when you're alone anyway. They do say it's better to be lonely when you're alone than lonely when in a crowd. When Remy awakes, it will be night.