Author's note: Crumpled Leaves is from the point of view of one of the troopers.  Although it doesn't say right away who it is, you may be able to guess it before it does.  It has to do with the struggle of how to live on after their battle has finished.  I wrote it like it was after the series, and without the OAVs, so just disregard anything that you know about the OAVs while reading this fic, because it doesn' t have anything to do with it. 
 

The wind blows, but I don’t feel it
The light shines, but I don’t see it
The song plays, but I don’t hear it
I am numb to the world
Because the world is numb to me
We don’t feel each other,
We are not apart of each other
Who am I?
Who can tell me, when I myself don’t know?

My hand grasped the wooden railing of the small bridge that I stood on.  My hands were red and numb from the cold, but I myself didn’t feel its bite.  I look at my reflection staring back at me.  Hating the person who looked back.  I hated who I was.  I had wished for so long that I could go back and change it, but I couldn’t.  I no longer wanted to fight; it was just too much to bear.
True, I fought so that other people did not have to, have to bear this pain.  It is better if only a few people have to bear the pain, rather than many people, and so, devastating the world.  That is why we became the Samurai Troopers, so that we could protect our world, and fight so that others would not have to.  But now, the war is over.  And still, the nightmares haunt my dreams every night, and I can’t remember a night when I haven’t woken up in a cold sweat and shaken with fear that I may yet again have to fight.
The wind blows; its icy edge seeps through the fabric of my coat and touches my skin.  My body shudders, but my mind takes no notice.  I’m too busy contemplating my miserable and now worthless life.  I feel like spitting at my own reflection.  Yes, that is how much I care.
You’re worthless.  I think to myself.  Responsibility, obligations, anything I have to do, it holds no importance.  My friends, sometimes I wonder if they’re going through the same thing I am, or if they ever have.  If they do, they hide it behind a mask.  We all wear masks, and we all know that all the others do.  You would never guess that we were the ones that saved the world, the way we act sometimes; you’d think we were just your normal immature teenage guys.  I myself sometimes, even have taken a double take to make sure I am who I am and not someone else like I thought.
Instinctively I pull my coat tighter around me, trying to shut out the cold.  But it’s still there.  No matter how hard I may wish, it’s still there.  Good thing wishing isn’t a sin; otherwise I’d be 6 feet under hell.  I put my hands in my pockets and I continue on my path.  Where am I going?  I don’t know.  I just decided to take a walk on one of these trails, see where they lead.  I know it is foolish of me to take a walk out in cold weather of about 35 degrees Fahrenheit out with only a light jacket over a T-shirt, but with the state of mind that I am in, the cold doesn’t bother me.  I suppose I have hit the height of my indifference factor, which, considering myself, is quite a bit.
The sky is gray, like my heart and soul.  That is the only way to describe it.  The world’s colors are dull, the trees and their leaves, everything has seemingly lost its color and life.  As it is fall, some of the leaves are either reddish orange or yellow, or just withered altogether.  Winter comes soon, when the earth is covered with a blanket of pure white snow, and everything is barren, and seems lifeless.  Ironically, it’s my favorite season.  Although, most people who know me probably wouldn’t guess that it is, I guess it just goes to show you how little they really know me.
Or how much of myself I really do hide behind a mask.
But is that really so wrong?  Everyone’s got to have some sort of secret.  But how many people keep their whole lives a secret?  Let me ask you this: How many people have fought for their lives against an evil force?  How many people have had to almost sacrifice one of their friends just to save the world?  How many people have known what a living hell really is?
Five.  We, the Samurai Troopers do.  We know.  We know so that others don’t have to.  But our fight is over.  How does one go on living after experiencing something like that?  Pretend it never happened? Even though you have the nightmares, memories, and emotional scars to prove it, not to mention physical ones as well.
A rustling noise to my left causes me to turn my head ever so slightly.  A few feet away, a deer stands, almost invisible in its brown hide against the brown bark of the trees.  It freezes as my gaze falls upon it, which is its natural instinct as a prey animal, hoping that the predator will miss it because of its natural camouflage.  I look at the graceful creature in envy.
“I wish I could have your freedom,” I whisper, so soft, I wonder if even the wind heard me.  Reality really has a hard cold sting.  This deer, this creature of the forest, has more freedom than I do.  Freedom to do whatever it wants.  It doesn’t have to stop and consider the consequences.  It just does.  Why couldn’t I live my life that way?
For the same reason everything else is the way it is.  Because that is just the way it is, and there’s no getting around it.  Because I walk on two legs, have two arms, and every other part of the human anatomy.  Because that’s what I am.  Human.  And we are not allowed to have total freedom.  But human nature is evil and vile, and the majority of our species gives into their nature.  So those of us who don’t are forced to live with the restrictions.
I glance to my right for a moment and the animal bounds off, seeing its chance to get away, the noise of its feet on the dried up leaves draws my attention back to where it stood, but it is gone, and there is no evidence that the deer was ever there.
I continue on my journey to wherever.  I’ll stop walking when I run out of trail to follow.  Unfortunately for me, all of them lead back to your beginning point anyway, so it is impossible to get lost.  But even if I didn’t return, the others would most likely come looking for me.  Most likely…more like most certainly, I don’t know what I was thinking.  Then I wonder if I am even worth their friendship, worth their time.  We are all so different, and yet we all seem to be the best of friends, a family.  Irony plays such a big role in all of our lives I guess it all fits.
The world takes on a slight hue of twilight, and I realize that it is getting late.  I debate whether or not to turn around and head back; it will be a dark night without the moon.  Then I wonder if it really matters, and decide that in this world, it unfortunately does.
I sigh and turn sideways on the path, so that one shoulder points down the way I am heading, and the other down the way that I have come.  I look down the way I have come, and the bleak world just looks back at me.  I turn my head to the other side and look down the way I may go.  The exact same bleak world stares back at me.  To me, this says, it doesn’t matter which path you take, you’ll eventually get back to where you started.  If you go forward to fast, you just end up back at the beginning, and you haven’t made any progress whatsoever.
I told you, irony is the story of my life.  Along with the words worthless and meaningless.  Yes, I am worthless.  There is nothing about me that has any worth.  I know people would disagree, and give me all these false reasons why I am important, the only thing is, none of those things would matter to me.  Maybe…maybe the others could find reasons that mean something to me, but then, I don’t have the courage to ask them.  I am afraid that they would laugh at me, and just pass it off without a second thought.  I just need to know why I am here.  If my only reason of existence was to be a Samurai Trooper, to save the world, then…then why am I still here? Why wasn’t I disposed of when it was over and done with, and the world was done with me?  I’m pretty sure the others have reasons for longer existence.  What they may be…I don’t know.  I have no reason to be here.  Unless our battle is not over, and this world is not safe.  Damn the yoroi, I don’t want to fight anymore.  It takes away too much of my soul, and I am afraid that it will eventually destroy me.  The battles that we fought so hard in, they haunt my dreams, and I fear every time that I have to sleep, because I don’t want to relive them.
I grasp the yoroi orb in my pocket.  Even though Arago is gone, I still keep it with me no matter where I go, just as, I am sure, the others do as well.  I don’t know whether I keep it with me as a reminder, or for comfort.  I much rather doubt that the thought of having to wear the heavy armor again is comforting, but then why do I need to remind myself?
Sanity is such an overrated thing.  Lately I’ve been wondering about my own.  I know that suicide is not the way out of this situation.  Somehow I’ll get through it.  Somehow, exactly how, only God knows, and I’m pretty sure that He’s not going to tell me any time soon.  But sometimes, death seems the easy way out.  But I have been faced with death before, and death is not the end.  Not even close.
The wind picks up again, and blows against my face, but I don’t flinch.  As I gaze down the path that I might have traveled on, I remind myself, that I would eventually have gotten back, so why not turn back now?  Turning my back on the path, I start walking back towards home.
 

I open the door as silently as I can, and slip inside.  It is noticeably warmer in the house, than it is outside, and I can’t help but instinctively shudder.  I take off my jacket and hang it in the closet next to all of the other coats.  Closing the door, I head toward the kitchen.  I don’t think anyone would be in there, it’s after dinner, and Shu has probably already had his post-dinner snack by now.  Coming into a warm environment makes me suddenly aware of how cold I really am, so I make some tea to warm my frozen membranes.
The vapors of the tea relax me, and calm my racing mind.  My hands start to thaw out from holding the warm cup.  I sit down at the small table in the kitchen, and stare into the depths of the brown steaming liquid, as if it were some fascinating marvel.
“Seiji?”
I blink at the sound of someone saying my name, but I don’t turn my head to see who it is, because I know his voice.
“Yes?”
“Is something wrong?” he asks.
I say nothing in reply, since it is pointless to anyway.  Of course there was something wrong; there is always something wrong, and we all know it, so there is no point in lying that everything is fine.  A few moments pass, and I take a sip of my tea.
“Seiji?”
“Nani?”
“How far did you walk?” he asks as he takes the seat across from me.  I vaguely catch the word ‘Milkball’ on his sweatshirt.  Inwardly I smile, knowing that the sweatshirt once belonged to Shu.
I shrug my response.  Ryo was used to my indirect answers.  I never knew how far I went, even though he always asked me how far I walked, my reply was always a shrug of my shoulder.
He reached over and put his hand on the top of mine, which were still cold and red, but not as numb as they had been before.  The warmth of his hand gave my cold one a tingling sensation.
“Seiji,” he said slowly and quietly, “your hands, they’re as cold as ice.”
“It is cold outside,” is my reply, simply because that was the truth.
“Didn’t you wear a coat?” he asks, knowing very well that even if I had, it hadn’t been one warm enough for the present temperature.
“Hai, I wore one,” I answer softly.  In all this time, I still hadn’t raised my gaze to look at him.  Lately, I’ve been having trouble looking my friends in the eye without questioning why they were still here, and still my friends.  I guess I’m afraid that they will just suddenly disappear when I look at them.
“Seiji, we’re all struggling with trying to figure out what to do now.”
I say nothing.  Even Shin and his understanding personality has seemingly turned into someone who is wandering around looking for something that isn’t there.
I know we’re all struggling, and I hate to see my friends like this.  I hate it that we all have nightmares.  Especially Ryo.  I don’t think that I can imagine what his would be like, except that they are probably ten times worse.  A few times, I could almost swear that one of his dreams startled me and awoke me from my own nightmares.
I curl my fingers underneath the palm of my hand.  I felt so low, so small, so insignificant.  The first time that we defeated Arago, or rather Ryo defeated Arago, he had refused to attack the evil emperor, even though he had captured the rest of us and taken our powers into him to make him stronger, and use those powers against Ryo.  Ryo would not attack when we had a hold on Arago, giving Ryo a chance to destroy him.  He would not attack, knowing that we were inside of the demon.  Even when Arago used our powers, our attacks on Ryo, he still would not.  I felt it.  I felt it when Arago used the Rai Ko Zan against my friend.  Every part of me screamed out in agony, as Arago drained me of my strength, unleashing Korin’s fury on the warrior of Rekka.  I almost begged Arago to stop, stop attacking my friend with my power.  Even though I was locked in a void, I know that there were tears my eyes, although I couldn’t see them, and if I had begged Arago, he would not have listened to my pleas.
I felt low, because the second time around, we attacked Arago, when there was an even greater risk that Ryo would not survive our assault.  I felt the tears falling away from my face as I ran and leapt up to strike the demon lord down, but I knew that there was no other way, otherwise Arago would take over our world.  But I swear, I swear from the depths of my soul, that I would rather have Arago destroy a thousand times over than have had Ryo die that day.
Glancing at the clock to my left, I realize that more time has gone by than I thought, and what was left of my tea is cold.  My hands are not though, and whether it is because of Ryo or the fact that I have been sitting here for nearly thirty minutes, I don’t know.  But I can feel his friendship, and I am again ashamed that it is so hard for me to look him in the eye.
Suddenly, I look up at him; my own spontaneous action surprises me.  Ryo now has his head bowed in contemplation, like I had.  His bangs hang over his face like they normally do, but from my angle I can’t see his eyes.
“Seiji.”
His voice startles me, and I jerk slightly.
“Please, don’t leave us,” he says, looking up, catching and holding my gaze.
Leave them?  Why would I leave them?  They’re my best friends, how could I leave them?
I give him a quizzical and confused look.  I could never just up and leave my friends.  Life would be an even worse hell than it already is, because there would be no one who could understand what I’ve been through.
Now I think I know how Touma must have felt only a few months ago.  He had been confused on how to act around us, as we are his first real friends.  He couldn’t quite understand what he was supposed to do, and how to be a good friend.  Now, he’s the best friend, along with Ryo, Shu, and Shin, and I wonder how I’m supposed to be a friend to them, even after the war is over.
I look away, confused.  I think Ryo knew it too.  It was there, plain as day, written on my face.  Which is a phenomenon in itself.  I rarely like to let what I am thinking show, but somehow, my friends always knew when something was bothering me.  Maybe it was in some way that I acted, vague to me yet a bright red alert sign to them.
Ryo squeezed my hand before he stood.  I glanced at him, a questioning look on my face, as if asking him to explain.  He smiles a sad sort of smile, and then turns and leaves.
I sit for another minute, and then I stand and put my cup in the sink.  Had I really been acting that distant?  To make him think that I would leave?
Slowly I walk out of the kitchen and towards the family room.  I look around.  I don’t see Ryo anymore, but Touma is there, reading a book.  He doesn’t look up when I enter the room.  I sit in a chair across from the couch that he is sitting on.  My usual chair I guess you could call it, I always sit here for some reason.  I watch him read his book.  Which isn’t all that exciting, except for the turn of a page every so often.  Maybe I’m just waiting for him to acknowledge me.  Since he knows I’m here, he’ll eventually stop.  Knowing his habits, he doesn’t like to be interrupted right in the middle of something, so I wait for him to find a decent place for him to pause his reading.
After what seems like another hour, he finally marks his place, and sets down the book.
“What’s wrong Seiji?”
The question totally stuns me.  Just like that, ‘What’s wrong Seiji?’ is it really that obvious that something is really bothering me?
“Life.” I answer, plain and simple.
“Life bothers everyone Seiji, if it didn’t, there would be no reason to live.”
I furrow my brows at this riddle.  Sometimes I wish Touma wouldn’t do that.
“But what do we do now Touma?” I ask, still uncertain of the question myself.
He shrugs.  Typical.
“If I have no purpose, why don’t I just die Touma?  Why am I still living if my purpose is fulfilled?”
He is quiet for a second, looking at me, his blue eyes looking through his blue hair over at me.  Worthless me.
“Because you still have a reason to live Seiji.” He answers softly.
Again, I am confused.  I hate being confused.  I do? What IS it then?
“But…what am I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know.  You are not a worthless person Seiji.  If you were, you wouldn’t be my friend, you wouldn’t be our friend, and I don’t think I would be nearly as happy if I didn’t have you or the others as my friends.”’
How did he know that I thought I was worthless?  I swear, sometimes I think Touma is a mind reader.
“Touma…” I don’t know what else to say.  I really don’t.  And I hate it.  I hate being clueless and in the dark to something.  I’m the warrior of light, makes sense doesn’t it?
“I wonder the same thing myself.  What am I supposed to do now?  What’s the point of living after all of that?”
I know what he means by ‘all of that’ and I thank God that he didn’t say what it really meant.
“So what do you answer yourself?  Do you know the answer Touma?” I ask bitterly.
He looks to the side, as if the answer is written on the wall, and sighs.
“No Seiji, I don’t.  I am still looking for the answer.”
Apparently no one knows the answer, and we are all wandering around aimlessly in our pathetic existence.  We are done; we did our job, and now just let us die.  Who can have a normal life after that?
I felt like just melting into the chair right then, or at least being glued to it.  I didn’t really feel like moving from this spot for the rest of my life.
I close my eyes and try to just think of nothing.  Just clear my cluttered brain of all the angst and annoying riddles and problems and questions reeling through my head.  When I open my eyes again, Touma has started reading his book again.
I shiver.  It’s colder inside the house now, and so I go upstairs to get a cardigan so that I won’t be so cold.  I was outside in the cold for quite a while today, but I don’t feel like being cold now.  I pull on the sweater and glance out the window.  The moon is fully up now, bright white against the midnight sky.  If I turned off the lights in my room I’d be able to see the moonlight.  But I don’t.
I reach inside my pocket and bring out the yoroi orb.  So what now Korin?  What do I do with you now?  You just sit there in my pocket and do nothing.  What am I supposed to do with you?  Leave you in some drawer or on a shelf to collect dust?
That would be a fitting fate for something that brought me so much pain.
Suddenly, it starts to glow a pale green.  I am startled slightly.  This day is full of too many surprises, I do not enjoy too many in one day.  I don’t like it when my mind is messed with.
My heart jumps, and my stomach suddenly feels sick.  Is this a sign that I must fight again?  Isn’t this war over?! It has to be!!!
I stare at the yoroi ball in my hand, which is shaking slightly.  What? What now?  I feel tears stinging my eyes.  No. I don’t want to fight anymore.  Please, don’t make me fight…
“SEIJI!”
I swear if I didn’t scream I jumped 10 feet in the air and hit the ceiling, which would explain the bruise and headache I suddenly got.  Shu’s sudden voice scared me half to hell I think.  Like I said before, just too many surprises tonight.  Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll die of fright.
Shu suddenly bursts into the room and I almost drop the yoroi ball.
“Seiji!  Are you all right?” he asks.
I look at him, eyebrow raised.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I answer, slightly annoyed and more curious.
“I felt a reaction from Korin, what’s going on?”
“I…I…” I stutter, still looking at the yoroi orb.
Shu tilts his head in a very Shu-like way.  Well considering he’s Shu, how else would he do it?  He looks at me concerned.  More concern for someone you shouldn’t be concerned with.
“Seiji, what’s going on?” he repeats.
I say nothing.  What can I say?  I’d just be repeating myself what I said to Touma and Ryo.
“Well?” he demands, impatiently.
“I…I don’t know…” I manage to say somehow.
“Seiji, Korin doesn’t send out a warning for no reason,” he tells me insistently.
If only.
“I…I know, but I don’t understand…what…” I stop.  I don’t know what else I’m gonna say.  My hand is shaking, and I’m scared half to death.  What is the korin no yoroi trying to tell me?
I sit down heavily on my bed.  Shaken up – badly.  The headache pounds in my forehead, a sensation not welcomed or wanted.  I put my head in my hand, and I have a sudden urge to throw the yoroi orb across the room, out of my site, away from me.
“Are you okay?” Shu asks, noticing my shaken-up state.
“I...I have a headache…” I manage to get the words through my mouth somehow.
He leaves, only to come back a minute or so later with a glass of water and a couple of pain relievers.
I accept them gratefully; the pounding in my head is almost like a migraine.  I swallow the pills with a giant gulp of water.  I never did like taking pills, whoever designed them, must have been trying to choke the entire human race to death.
“Seiji, what was Korin warning you about?” Shu keeps prodding.
“I’m not sure…”
“What was the feeling that it sent to you?”
I searched the meaning of the link that the Korin yoroi had sent to me.  Blinded…I was blinded? By what?
“I think it said…that I was blinded…”
Shu is silent for a moment.  For someone who is naturally a loud person, this is a rare moment; although I think he may know more and understand more about the yoroi’s than I do.
After a moment, he shrugs, and the up-beat happy personality is back.
“I’m sure you’ll find the answer Seiji, you’ll figure it out,” He says confidently, “don’t worry, we’re here if you need help.” He smiles, and then leaves me to myself.
The orb has stopped glowing, and the faint symbol of courtesy shines beneath its surface.  I put it back in my pocket, and put my head in my hands.  This has been one irritating and confusing day.
Sighing, I stand, and go back downstairs.  Glancing towards the living room where I had been talking with Touma earlier, I see that Ryo has joined him and is sitting across the room in a different chair than the one that I had previously occupied.  I don’t see Shu, so I assumed he’s back in his room doing whatever he had been doing prior to Korin sending out a warning signal.
Suddenly, I hear a noise in the kitchen, and a cry of alarm.  Knowing that Ryo and Touma are in the other room, and that Shu is in his room, I quickly deduct that Shin is the one in the kitchen.  I open the door to the kitchen.  I see Shin holding his hand, blood trickling through his fingers, and a knife on the floor.
“Shin…”
He looks up at me.  “Seiji?”  I think he tries to smile, but the pain from the cut is making it difficult.
I walk forward and pick up the knife and put it on the counter.  I don’t understand, Shin is usually very careful with things like this.
“Shin, what happened?” I ask.  Finally it’s my turn to ask questions.
“I guess I got a little careless,” he says, wincing from the pain.  Some blood drips to the floor.
I look around for what he had been cutting.  Finding nothing, I look at him confused.  Then a wave of reality hits me like a brick wall.  Had it been intentional?  I shook the thought from my head and refused to think that of my friend.  Shin was not the kind of person to do something like that.  It just wasn’t in his nature.  But was he finally losing it too?  Just like I am?
I pull him over to the sink to run some cold water over his hand.  At first he flinches, because the cold water stings the wound.  The cut is on the fleshy part of the palm just below the thumb.  It looked like it was about an inch long.  It wasn’t very deep, but it was close enough to a slightly large vein to bleed a good amount.
So it was finally happening.  We were finally starting to fall apart.  What little sanity we had, we were losing it.  I knew it would happen one day, and that was the day I started going on my walks in the coldest weather possible, and slowly seeing the leaves go from a healthy green, to crumpled things lining the paths.
I turn off the water after it stops running with red blood, and grab a small clean dishtowel to wrap his hand in temporarily.  I tell him to wait here while I go get the first aid.  I quickly go up the stairs to the closet where we keep the towels and other such things.  On the top shelf is the first aid, something that has been well used.