While the sun bears down on the Takehaya, all he could truly feel was hatred. Densetsu, a sword he had longed for, was moments from claiming his life. Though, he didn't feel any shred of regret. Instead, there was a subtle hint of pride emerging from his darkened corpse. Tenma, Saika, and Iroh were all watching him. Even if he were to vanish in the next instant, he could die feeling some shred of dignity – as his brothers actually looked unto him with worry. However, now was not the time to focus on such. The man before him, calling forth his guards, was beginning to retreat. Perhaps, in handing out a demon sword, the elder realized that there would be some backlash. In truth, it was a smart idea. Then again, who wouldn't come prepared in such a situation.

"What is this, elder? If you're not man enough to handle your own problems, I'll cut down everyone you put before me." Iori would growl, his gaze lowering. The burly man was indeed a problem, but it wasn't anything the Takehaya couldn't handle. In fact, with Densetsu in his hand, he felt as if he could fight the very world. Of course, such was not true – he was gradually being possessed by the blade, and drawn into the very abyss of hell. At this point, he only had a mediocre grasp on the power. Would this miniscule outburst be enough, though? Naturally, he'd only find out by exercising his might. As such, he'd attempt to shake free of the burly man, pointing the demonic blade at himself.

What did he have to lose? He'd be dying in a few moments anyway. So, why not have some fun with this decaying body? "Get the hell off me!" He'd scream, thrusting the blade toward his own mid-section. Though, before making contact, he'd attempt to rotate the blade – dragging it across the side of his light armor. He knew not how sharp Densetsu was, and thus he was prepared to take damage from such a maneuver. Though, such was a price he'd willingly play in order to penetrate the open side of a guard.

"Why don't you guys help me, just one last time?!" He'd mutter under his breath, something in him refusing to utter such words aloud.
(Takehaya, Iori)
Well mannered samurai whispers faintly.
White-haired youngster whispers faintly.
Rinmomo whispers faintly.
White-haired youngster whispers faintly.
Yawata says: p no. there's two guards you fucking br [
The burly guard would struggle to hold on, while the smaller yet still rather muscular lifted the Daimyo over his shoulder, dashing towards the north.

The blade would seeming pierce the guard's side but, it wouldn't be on outright killing blow. Using the last of his strength, said guard would hold on to the boy until his soul passed from his body and onto the next world.

"Gah!" The Daimyo shouted in anger as he was carried off.
(The ambitious elder )
The ambitious elder  thinks: Tch! I paid good money for that sword!
The First Reaper doesn't completely understand the situation, but watching his brother right now was something else. His feet kick off the floor and in a near instant his sword slides across the back of the large male as toes dance around the ground, his graceful body moving around the obstacle with a haste not found in most.

His sword is readjusted as he moves forward, eyes stare down the guard and the daimyo and his right hand comes lurching forward for the throat of the elder man, attempting to crush or injury his wind pipe in a swift, nearly undetectable motion.

Directly after his unarmed strike his body spun and his feet keep guiding, allowing his sword to sweep and slash at the side of the daimyo. His sword moves again as his feet finally settle, body moving to cut off the path and sword already moving to cut at the guard's arm to stop him from holding the male.

"One last time then, huh." Heart beating, mind racing.
The First Reaper whispers: (atk speed A on
The sense of dread began to take over the older Takehaya. This was the last thing he wanted to witness, troops of the lightning daimyo beckoning to their master's call and to do anything it took to keep him safe from harm. There was no need to call the taller, manlier Takehaya to action - Almost as if it were coded in his genetic material, the sixth sense to protect his own flesh and blood drove to him action. Forging forth; raging forth, Iroh dashes towards the guard wielding a gargantuan mass of raw iron. This was reminiscent of his battle with Bastard. A man clad in armor, towing around a claymore as if it were nothing.

This was something he was used to.

After Iori struck, Iroh moved in to deliver a thunderous blow to their visage, using his other hand to restrain their wrist. Following that'd be a knee to their flank, if their prior actions were successful. "Get AWAY from Iori!" Iroh ferally shouts, slamming them against the wall behind them, endeavoring in subjugating one of the two guards.
(Iroh)
Well mannered samurai whispers faintly.
The First Reaper whispers: (my str is c-
The First Reaper whispers: (unarmed A+ agi, sword A
Rinmomo whispers faintly.
The First Reaper whispers: (str is c-
The drunkard thinks: Interesting
Well mannered samurai whispers faintly.
The First Reaper whispers: can flash if u want)
The drunkard takes another swig at his bottle, watching the entire ordeal unfold. He really didn't know how to take it.
A brown-haired lad calculates the situation briefly, eyes scanning the ones Iori was shouting toward. It takes him a moment or two, but a decision is finally made. A hand draws out five shuriken, all interlocked inbetween his fingers. With a charged chuck, the umber haired one launches said projectiles for the smaller guard of the famous man. They whirl with a swiftness, intent to strike the legs of the one escorting him.

Right after, the one hidden in the darkness proppels himself from the pillar, dashing alongside grass and cobblestone. Another hand comes to grip at his katana, heart beat increasing by the second.
It starts.

Moving up, he's targetting the closest of the guards, the bigger one seeking to grapple onto Iori. In a swift motion, he unsheathes Toriunga completely now -- leaping into the fray, literally in this sense.

Coming down from the air, after a quick leap forward- he comes down swiftly with a downward strike. Aiming for the shoulder, if not the neck or head ot eh giant soldier meant to prevent Iori from succeeding in his strike!
(Yawata)
The ambitious elder  hands Takehaya, Iori a Densetsu.
He tapped Yawata's shoulder and began to back his move. He didn't know what was wrong, but this is it. . . He listened to his brother's words and nodded his head. He began to run. Shifting passed Iori in a dead sprint, Tenma rushed towards the lower guard.

His heart raced, what sort of sword was this /Densetsu/. It intriguied him to no end. If Iori was going to get out of this, it'll be something to share over drinks. A wide grin appeared on his face, the Takehaya wouldn't let his prey escape. He poked a Tiger and its family. All the while, Tenma reeled his arms in if he was in range. Moving in tandem with the reaper, he shifted ducking under projectiles and aiming for his targets. One, the old man who was being pulled off. Two, the guard who was carrying the poor soul.

"I'll send you both to the after-life!"
(Takehaya Tenma)
Rinmomo kept her presence a secret, perhaps they won't have to do any real fighting, and just have to do clean up in the end, whatever the case she would keep moving towards the scene, however not going to be as trigger happy as she did last time (Turn 2/5)
The drunkard thinks: Welp.. poor daimyo
The drunkard whispers faintly.
A dark haired woman whispers faintly.
The drunkard whispers faintly.
A hyper-dull teen thinks: Let's see that Chi, baby.
Well mannered samurai would quickly still try to make it to the scene in time to stop any real bloodshed. The honorific samurai he was.. He did not wish to say any more people die within his home town, no matter if they were evil or not.. He no longer wished to be the one sent to shovel dirt over a massgrave.. Nor be the one haunted by the faces of the dead that he could not save..

The young Otori Samurai continued his charge off towards the left wall to flank the group, hoping his fellow samurai were doing the same.
Well mannered samurai whispers faintly.
Well mannered samurai 2/5))
Well mannered samurai whispers faintly.
The ambitious elder  would be stuck down by the multiple attacks of all those around him who had suddenetly turned on the man. Him and his guards being dispatched with relative ease surprisingly...

The Daimyo would die with his thoughts being on nothing more then how he wouldn't get to use his money any more... Hopefully wealth transfered to the afterlife!
White-haired youngster Sprints onto the scene stopping behind the Samurai he then placed a firm grip upon the hilt of his Katana as he approached behind Azram. Whispering as he does so.
A brown-haired lad removes Katana from Gito's Body.
Well mannered samurai whispers faintly.
White-haired youngster whispers faintly.
Unkempt brown haired teen whispers faintly.
Well mannered samurai whispers faintly.
White-haired youngster whispers faintly.
Destruction. The very thought of it was beginning to make Iori's mouth water. Densetsu was an enigmatic blade, but he could understand its thirst for blood. Was this because he was gradually ascending to a higher plane, shredding his mortal coil? If so, then nobody was worthy of this blade – it would only bring chaos, and more misconception. However, at this specific point in time, such was all Iori needed. Power was power, and he now had the power to make a difference. Densetsu wanted to cut loose, and he wanted to cut people down. A match made in heaven, right? Well, that would only pertain to the next few moments (as said before), as he was gradually decaying both mentally and physically. Hell, even the burly guard was becoming difficult for him to handle – Densetsu or not.

Woosh! Pop Pop!

As he struggled, digging into the giant's side, Iori felt a weight rise from his shoulders. Iroh, as well as 'not-rick', had come to his aid. Ah. Family sure was a good thing, huh? It's a shame Iori hadn't made it clear how much he loved them all. Saying nothing but good things now, would be far too cliché – he'd never be able to look them in the eye again. As such, he would simply do all that he could. As a Takehaya, he'd fight to the very end. So, as the man was practically drilled into, forced off Iori's person, the adolescent would turn. Swinging his blade wide, he'd make use of a single technique. This technique, utilized by Seishin as he once wielded the blade, would dig into the 'retreating' guard.

"I don't have time for you, bitch." He'd snicker, putting an exaggerated rotation to his swing.
(Takehaya, Iori)
Grizzly Bear whispers you: wo got the money
Your message has been broadcasted to the staff.
ALERT: The First Reaper (Gogeto25): me, he dropped 50k and i picked it up with the quickness
You must wait before using this.
A brown-haired lad strikes his target and only manages a light slash across their back before both the Daimyo and his guard collapse by the cloaked duo. With a sway of his sword, he stains the floors of red, cleaning his blade in the process. Then, he turns, eyeing the Takehaya filled with bloodlust.
"This is unusual..." he murmurs, body shifting to face furhter combat that might as well be considered inevitable.
Iroh had sought nothing more than to simply subdue the gargantuan guard, Iori's strike taking Iroh by surprise. He wasn't exactly angry or anything - So long as it was from his kin, he could forgive anything they had done. But the act was deplorable to the elder's philosophy. Even if he wasn't exactly angry with his sibling, it was his responsiblity as the eldest Takehaya in the family to scold and protect his little brother.
"Iori, I knew we were in the middle of fighting.. But this is a bit too much, don't you think?" Iroh went off. His other brothers had the daimyo handled - Though, he also wasn't expecting them to slay the rich man with a bounty. Unfortunate. "But that was a bit excessive.. What did this man do to you? No. That doesn't matter, now. Now that we're fine.." A dramatic pause is made, Iroh wrapping his hand around the hilt of the huge mass of blade, slamming it down on the gravel. He extends an arm out with an open palm. "Let's just.. Go home. And then we can talk, okay?"
Iroh removes Claymore from Icho's Body.
From his aerial aggression, and Iori's final push into the guard at his flank, and Iroh's pressure added on as well - it's over. The Densetu blade cleaves through it's target, and the boy jumps free from nothing more then a lump of flesh at this point.

Landing next to Iori, he looks at Iroh; sporting a bit of new wear as the man pilfers the body of the the now felled guard.
(Yawata)
Iroh says: It's been far too long since we've sat down and had a proper talk. Maybe.. Over sake, we'll talk about our experiences.
Yawata thinks: Anti-climatic.
Rinmomo wasnt sure if there would be combat anymore with the sound of metal on flesh being quite the disinct sound... But maybe just maybe she can take some leftover jays, whatever the case she would keep moving (Round 3/5? Less people arnt really fighting anymore)
The First Reaper reels his sword back, blood dripping from it, eyes staring down at the lifeless bodies that were caused by his hand - why?

The thought always plagued his mind when it came to this, death and things like that and for what? This was for his village and for his brother - he drew the sword and now what?

"Iori, what's going on!?" He questions while moving over to his kin, blood dripping onto the ground as he makes his way over.

"You have it, so we can go then." He states, confusion ensues, for sure. They just attacked the Daimyo - kill the lord of a land because his brother expected it of them. It was something he wasn't used to, but regardless he keeps moving - for his village, for his family.
"Like old times, right?"
His hands tdo take the ryo off the body though, he even starts to drag it away as proof
You grab Stranger.
Well mannered samurai would just continue on his path towards the ruckus.. He could not exactly see what was going on.. But he could smell the blood.
He felt raw flesh and blood coat his weapon. The satisfaction of acquiring some lackluster vengeance was bittersweet. However, his brother was still suffering. Alas, he didn't know. Tenma looked over to his brother and stepped forward. "Iori. . . What's going on. . ?" Tenma spoke, flicking his weapon towards the ground. The crimson essence drifting and coating the lithosphere. Tenma had mixed feelings, however. . . He had to dull them. This was for the future of the Takehaya family.

He didn't want to believe it, nor did he want to do anything wrong. It was strange, it reminded him of Seishin. What was this. .  One last time?! What did that even mean.
(Takehaya Tenma)
Well mannered samurai 3/5*))
Well mannered samurai whispers faintly.
Death.

No matter how Iori wanted to look at it, he was bound to kill anyone who crossed his path. At least, that was what it felt like. He loved his family, and wanted nothing more than to be with them. That very yearning, which caused him to act like an 'actual' big brother, made him tear up. Though, he wasn't going to show such emotions – not on the battlefield. As such, he'd puff his chest out in a dramatic fashion. Those around him, who had witnessed his outburst, knew such was gradually coming to an end. He's practically hinted toward it enough, right? Well, now was the time to draw this to a close.

"Tenma!" He'd yell, his voice bursting forth like thunder. "I love you, with all my heart. Though, you and I both know. . . we both can't share the title of number one. As such, I'm going to have to end this here. Are you prepared for that? You want this sword, but. . . I'm not too keen on handing it over. You'll have to take it for me." He'd continue, staring toward the rugged adolescent. Upon looking at his face, anyone could see that he was serious. In fact, his gaze seemed muddy. . . almost distant.

"Let's go, brother. I want to end this, the right way!" Swinging the sword to the side, taking on a stance, he'd prepare to strike. Though, before he could complete such an action. . . his body was already bolting forward. Densetsu had taken its tole on him, and now he could only satisfy his thirst for battle. How would it go? Would it end here? Naturally, only time would tell.

As he swung the blade, he'd bring it down in a major arc – attempt to cut his brother across the chest. "Come, Tenma!"
(Takehaya, Iori)
A hyper-dull teen sniffs. This was definitely interesting.
A hyper-dull teen thinks: It's just like one of my japanese animes.
A dark haired woman thinks: Tenma?
The drunkard yawns, taking another sip of his drink. He grew tired of the situation, though he did want to see how it ended.
A dark haired woman whispers faintly.
The drunkard whispers faintly.
A brown-haired lad slowly moves away to the side, eyes focused on the unexpected fight.
A dark haired woman whispers faintly.
The drunkard whispers faintly.
A dark haired woman whispers faintly.
The drunkard whispers faintly.
The First Reaper stops to turn around and peer at the two.
"Now isn't the time I don't think-" he comments, eyes going from on elder brother to the next. Really, things weren't adding up until it finally hit him, the subtle droppings, the random accusation to fight - to see who is stronger.

"We'll be fine, we can fight for it later, decide who is stronger later..." Even the words coming out of his mouth didn't seem believable to himself - Iori was serious, despite their issues and constant arguing, in the end of the day, they shared blood. They were brothers for years and to hear what he had said and experience this was enough to cause him to stand and stare.

"Don't say it's so, Iori, give up the act man, this isn't some kind of joke, don't mess around."
Words flush out of his mind as teeth grit together, the hand on his katana even gets tighter. He could feel it now, this was it, a fight, a blade and somebody here wasn't about to leave alive. This was happening too fast.

"Tenma..."
The drunkard leaves the area, still drinking of course.
A dark haired woman follows him
The fact that his brother was falling to the dark side of the force unsettled him. His golden hues traced over his diminishing kin and drew his large glaive. He didn't know why he had to kill, but if anyone was going to kill Iori, it was gonna be one of the Takehaya family-- Most definitely-- Tenma. Pain took hold and sharpened his senses, all at once he took to rushing forward. Rough foot steps dug into the foundation below him. His glaive: Orochi kindled under the sun's rays. The scarlet blade cried out to avenge family. However, Tenma's aim would be for his very brother. . . At least giving him a moment to take along with him to the afterlife.

<I'll take the sword. . . And your will. . . I will see it through.> He'd think to himself. A loud vrooming came out from the twirling action of Orochi. Grinding his teeth together, the second-eldest took to approach. Raising his right arm with weapon in tandem, the large weapon becoming akin to a red streak as it cut through the air. Rage, sadness. . . The two emotions plagued him like no other. A yell bursted out, it carried what remained of his emotions. It felt like yesterday when they were starving together. Molding to shape each other so that they could continue together. It was breaking him on the inside. Tenma didn't know how he was going to recover from this. . . The warrior was meant to kill, and held his family above everything else. Even at a chance to acquire love. Now, he was breaking a bond.

"I'm sorry. . ." He'd merely mutter. Nothing was more important than his brothers, and now look at him. Each moment felt like it moved in slow motion. Each memory was recycled vividly. The sight of laughing and joy. The pain they felt together. Tears seemed to trail down his cheeks as he rushed forward. Orochi was raised high into the air, aiming to collapse down onto his brother's frame just as his did. . .

Steel.

Hot steel.

It graced down the rampant predator's flesh and in turn he'd aim to cleave into his brother. A reddened blade that would've never graced a Takehaya's flesh. Tenma disregarded the pain he'd feel, it wouldn't even be considered close to the amount of torment killing his brother would bring. A broken man's glare peered into his brother's visage.

A blackened abyss would surround Tenma's view. A single cut rended his 'existence.' What made Tenma-- /Him/ was his family. Everything was wrong, everything wasn't supposed to go like this! This shouldn't have been his act!! Even if he had prepared for such an occasion, it wouldn't have been enough. Tenma's body would've welcome a final act like this. . . And now, if he decided to trade like how he envisoned. The warrior would fall to his knees, tossing his weapon to the side. Aiming to bring his fallen brother into his arms. A thousand-yard stare tracing into a defeated warrior.

"Be sure to tell our parents. . . All of your adventures. . . Iori Takehaya. . ."




(Takehaya Tenma)
Iroh shook his head. Iroh was an absolute mess, his discord shown through his temporary moment of simply remaining mute, blanking out. He didn't understand, feeling a blend of emotions he hadn't felt in quite some time. Even through his four years of training, nothing prepared him for this. And worse of all?

Iroh had no idea what was even going on.

"Iori, we can -- What're you saying? Let's just.." He gives a firm pat on Iori's shoulder. It didn't have his usual strength, though. It didn't have the firm, heavy grip of his that brimmed with confidence.

"Go home."
The messy-haired teen says: Hey, hey.
Rinmomo thinks: Boro...
A cowled man says: Just who I was looking for.
Kagami followed behind Buro.
The messy-haired teen arrives upon the scene, though he does see the skwad in the distance.

It'll take him a while to get there.
Sentiments were strange.

Iori's words- his last words infact- weren't registered at first. This was a new situation to him, so the uptake was trickling in. The anguish, and pain that was there- what would soon come to trump even in that. The dismal affair that was the Densetu's blade, and it's curse.

Iori's plight was one that he could not hope to fathom. As he stands there, safely amongst the living while the Takehaya teeters on the edges of this realm, and the plane of death. Yet still he tenses; body reflexively understanding.

This was a grim undertaking. This understanding- he could not hope to over come it so easily. "Perhaps we should consider a means of escape- surely, this is worth some commotion." `

And as he spoke, it was as if his suspicions were unfortunately answered. Close at hand were a group- the mighty samurai of Tanzaku. Close at hand, near to the scene but not quite here yet; sight better than most -- it was a squadron ready to combat, and quell whatever they deemed an opposition to their ruling, and decrees.

Oh boy.
(Yawata)
A brown-haired lad changes his position and like a perched eagle he spectates from atop of a pillar.
Kinshi yells: IM HERE!
A brown-haired lad picks up Torch.
Kinshi runs down on those people and charges up a super goukakyuu. He was about to put his uchiha spin on it. "TAKE THIS UGLIES!!!!" He screamed and spit out a large fire ball to char these fools!
The messy-haired teen ain't here yet hehe.
Rinmomo Seeing they would arrive, Rin would approach in at least what she perseeves to be stealth (Sight 2 buckaroo) Whatever the case she would take a poistion on the wall to make her observation and try not to think of the people behind her as she would take a prepatory justu action, the light flow of chakra guised less they are able to spot her stealth ontop of her hidden action.
Unkempt brown haired teen watched as Rin jumped up onto the wall as he continued to make his way forward. Looking at the scene unfolding he'd place a hand upon the hilt of his katana. In truth he was looking to see just what the hell was going on, his intent was not to just show up and start cutting people up. Even still he'd be prepaied to do whatever he needed too. Not wanting to give Rin's position away he'd pretend like he didnt see her and once close enough he'd speak up

"What's going on here?" Azram would ask his voice stern as he kept his gaze upon the scene. He'd wait for a reply before taking further action.
A hyper-dull teen sniffs, moving away from the brown haired chick. "I ain't with them." He says.
"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

Many times has this saying been phrased wrong. Many times have people assumed that it speaks of 'family', and that the blood of a brother exists above all else. Iori, whom did nothing but despise those around him, cared only for his family. He stood at the top of his own little stool, and acted on merely his own whims. However, for the entirety of his life, the Takehaya did everything for his brothers. Why? They were the only ones to accept him. Nobody else would so much as bat an eye at his death, and he had come to terms with this. Though, such was only a fleeting thought. Everyone at Iwagakure was his family, but he couldn't bring himself to treat them the same – they ignored him far too much. Then again, such was the life he was destined to live. Those who fought for themselves would never know the true satisfaction of crossing blades with family.

Crimson, darker than the very word itself, began to drip to the floor. Everyone lived a fleeting life, but very few considered when theirs would come to an end. As a man, Iori had come to terms with such. Even now, as his brother's glaive cut through his person, he couldn't help but smile – this was his end. Tenma had done his job, and the young Takehaya couldn't be any more happier. Though, would he be able to speak such words? Yes, the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. Those who shed blood on the battlefield hold bonds stronger than that of family. True brothers live together, fight together, and die together. This one time, was the time that Iori didn't want to be a 'true' brother. Tenma had to live, at all costs.

As such, upon being struck, the Takehaya would deter his blade – drifting it off to the side. What more could he do? His life was over. Even as he dropped to the ground, descending into Tenma's arms, his expression was serious. Though, that seriousness was soon broken by the flowing of tears. A coward's end, brought about by his own weakness. Then again, such was to be expected. Chasing after a cursed blade was bound to have its consequences.

"I loved you guys. . . with all my heart." He'd begin, the very darkness he'd sought, gradually eating away at him at a faster pace. "I . . I wanted to be strong, just for you. I was tired of being useless, and did all that I could. I started to think like you, and wish I had died. Though. . . I regret nothing. Thank you all, for loving me." He'd continue, quickly pulling removing the scabbards at his side. Extending them to Tenma, he'd pass on both his 'Takehaya' and the 'Densetsu' – if the male so chose to take them. "I'm sorry.~"

With that, using the last of his strength, the one known as Takehaya, Iori would shed his mortal coil – descending into the abyss, escaping any further responsibility.
(Takehaya, Iori)
Yawata says: p bye ]
Takehaya, Iori has been knocked out.
Well-mannered samurai whispers faintly.
Takehaya, Iori was just killed by Takehaya Tenma!
A brown-haired lad says: ...
A hyper-dull teen thinks: Huh...
A hyper-dull teen thinks: Wonder if it's that sword or not. Can't quite make them out from up here.
A brown-haired lad lets out a heavy huff from his nostrils, slowly sheathing his sword with a clank.
Touching moments over bloodied encounters.

It's a sad day- the day that Iori,Takehaya is taken from them. A final exchange with his brother -- the very blade that brought about such a thing, transferred into his care upon demise.

Such a ruinous memory to have, but that was how things were to be.

"I'm sorry.." He accomplishes saying it with some feeling, albeit- it seems to solely be directed a Tenma. No other he feels he can synergize with in this moment- as strange a thing as that was to admit.
(Yawata)
Iroh remains a spectator to his sibling's duel to the death, although it seemed more like a one-sided slaughter than anything else. A sacrifice had been made, that much he was sure of. The dominant emotion was pure confusion, but now, an indomitable presence had made itself apparent -- Sadness. The Takehaya removes his hand from the hilt of the blade, leaving it stuck inside the makeshift crevice he had made by slamming it down, getting on his knees. The Takehaya was too much of a man to shed any tears in the public, but --

He had to mourn for the death of his brother. The elder Takehaya had lost someone to a senseless cause, a reason that he wouldn't understand for a long while. Even if they shared the same blood, there was a clear difference in ideology that separated Iroh from the rest of his family members; the one that Iroh was most distant from was Iori, clearly. His recent actions held no rhyme or reason, no purpose. In the end, Iroh was only left with his philosophies he had learned from those four years of rigorous training. Right.. What exactly was he thinking, simply going off on his own to train? He should have been there for his family. All of that lost time, and for what?

Even if he was taught that pain simply serves as a reminder to both his existence and his impact in the world, but pain was the last thing he wanted to feel, although it'd probably be the only thing he'd know for quite a long while. He drops to his knees, hugging onto his deceased kin. Silently mourning for them.
To say it was like a nightmare was likely the last thing he could think of at the time as his body laid motionless, watching the act being committed. Even with a bloody body of a lord in his grasps, being dragged away from the scene he can't do much, but stare at his brothers fighting - his pleas, his words and the tears that soon to flood his eyes behind is mask. All of it meant nothing as hot metal cuts in the flesh of his older brother.

There is a jut, a sudden movement to try and stop the act, but he falls short with his steps slowing down afterwards. It was over already, his brother was dead and it was because of his own greed. "Tenma... You didn't have to." Anger soon boils as he revisits the words told to him, if it was all for them - to be strong and to defend them.

Then why did he go?
"Come back, Iori, come back, you're not done here." He states with his hands tightening into balls, eyes search for Tenma and then for Iroh - were they just accepting it? That their brother was dead now? He couldn't shake this feeling he's never felt, it was deeper than Lucy and Kotetsu dying and he had nobody to blame or kill for it.

"I love you too." He utters, even with it being too late, he states the words and looks down to the body of his brother, teeth gritting and tears flowing down his facial features. "You were strong, you were a good brother." And all he did was shit on him, over and over, push him away and treat him badly for no real reason.

"Come on, let's go, bring the body..."
And with the command set he starts to move away, eyes swaying over to the approaching samurai... He pays them no mind in the end and continues on his way.
(The First Reaper)