The ground was damp. The field, a vacant lot on the outskirts of town, had turned into a mud puddle under the persistent rain. The drops pounded hard, blurring the outlines of the distant trees, but nothing could obscure the scene at its center: two persons struggling as if the world owed them something.

"Why do you keep coming back for me?!" Gun spat furiously, pressing his half-sibling's face into the soggy mud with his open palm. "I told you we're not related!"

His half-sibling struggled, grunting under his weight, as rain trickled from Gun's wet hair to his clenched jaw. Water trickled down his brows, but he didn't blink, didn't back down.

"No matter how many times you come!" Gun roared, his knees digging into each other's sides. "You're not going to earn a place that isn't yours!"

His voice wasn't that of a mature man in a fight to the death, but that of a furious child, trapped in the body of an adult with too much power. He shoved you back into the mud, making a dull, wet sound.

"You can hate me, fight me, cry if you want!" he spat angrily. "But don't come telling me we're siblings! We're not! We never were!"