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It’s been three minutes and he still hasn’t stopped staring at the sword.
Not his sword, that’s for sure. No, his usual HF-Blade is safely sheathed at his side, retrieved once the battle was over. This strange wooden one that materialized out of nowhere, humming faintly in his clawed hands, stares back. He’s scanned it over and over again and it seems to have no heat signature, no secret mechanisms, no covert bomb, nothing but a wooden sword with a carving in the hilt.
He traces it delicately. His translators said that it was named something along the lines of Hebidamashii. Snake Spirit. Surely it can’t be a coincidence. Nothing ever is in his life. He’s seen a lot of impossible things, but something about this feels forbidden. If Liquid could possess Ocelot, even if it was briefly, then surely..?
Even acknowledging it causes a strange feeling to stir in his stomach. Of course he wants to see Snake again, he’s spent so much time wondering what it would be like if he was here, but who’s to say Snake wouldn’t be disgusted with him now? Snake had told him to carve out his own identity, that he didn’t have to be defined by his bloody past, that there was a life for him outside all of the violence. Raiden had not only entered a job that severed him from civilian life, but he had also embraced that part of him that craved the battlefield. Practically the exact opposite of what he said.
He shakes his head firmly, trying to stop him from getting his hopes up. If Snake really had come back as some sort of ghost then why would he decide to haunt Raiden out of all people? Best to stop standing around in the middle of nowhere right after a fight. There could be more enemies nearby.
As he slips away to a more remote spot, the events of the fight keep replaying in his mind. He had been sent to go clean up some remnants of Desperado, a small pack of idiots who though that they could fill the power vacuum left behind just because they had cybernetic enhancements and a lot of guns. He had proven them wrong, and maybe he took a bit too much time playing with his food because near the end of the fight his sword had gotten knocked out of his hand. It wouldn’t have been a mistake that cost him his life, but it still would have been painful. Instinctually, he raised his hand as if he was still using his HF-Blade…
Raiden looked back down at the Hebidamashii. Almost as if summoned, it appeared in his hand. He wasn’t going to look a gift sword in the mouth, dispatching whoever remained before trying to puzzle out where it came from. He feels a bit like the man standing in Big Shell, Pliskin staring expectantly at him, patiently waiting for him to put the pieces together. Is this a test? Does he have to figure something out? Is he just delusional and trying to come up with a good reason for his sword to be haunted by the ghost of the man he most admired?
There doesn’t seem to be anyone else around, so he takes the gamble and tentatively whispers, “Snake?”
The humming intensifies. “Kept you waiting, huh?”
Raiden drops the Hebidamashii onto the floor in shock. It clatters on the concrete unceremoniously, Snake’s dry voice following shortly. “You really know how to treat a guy.”
He feels like he’s on the verge of babbling out an apology, but his nerves constrict tight around his throat. “Raiden? You alright?”
“…This isn’t a dream, right? You’re really here?” Raiden retrieves the Hebidamashii from the floor gently, as if he’s cradling Snake himself in his arms. God, he feels like he’s in Arsenal all over again, clinging to Snake for reassurance that what’s happening right now is real. The urge to clench desperately to it comes to mind, but he forces it down until he can confirm it’s actually him. He can’t rule out a trap from some new, shadowy organization just because it looks like- how does he even describe his relationship with Snake? Someone he idolizes? Someone he looks up to? Someone he loves?- him.
“Real as can be. It took me some time to figure out how to reach you, though. You seemed like you needed some help.” As if on cue, a silver figure materializes in front of him. It’s hazy and flickering and he doesn’t dare breathe until he feels a cold, cold hand rest gently on his head, ruffling his hair. It fades shortly after that, Snake frowning. “I’m afraid physical contact is still hard to get a hang of.”
The world itself feels frozen in time, dreamlike in the way it’s just them. How many times had he wished for something like this? He reaches one hand desperately out, passing through the cool mist futility. All of his accomplishments seem to pale in Snake’s face. “There’s so much I need to tell you. Snake, I failed. You told me to find something to live for and pass it down, but all I’ve done is bring more violence into the world. I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve been watching you, Raiden.” His stomach plummets. He anticipated this, of course he did, but hearing it out loud seems to- “I don’t think that’s true.”
“Huh?” How can he say that after seeing what he really was? It doesn’t matter. None of it matters when Snake is here in front of him.
“I can’t say it’s exactly what I had in mind, but I told you that you were the only person in charge of your fate. That means you’re the one who decides what parts of you are actually you. Even then, you still protected people. You still fought to save the world.”
“I cut up so many people and I didn’t even regret it. I liked it.” Maybe if he’s adamant enough he’ll be able to… what? Convince Snake he’s an unloveable monster? Why? He has everything he wants right here, why can’t he just reach out and take it for once?
Snake laughs, puffs of cold air hanging in their tiny corner of the world. “You think you’re the first person to ever struggle with bloodlust? You’re still the same Raiden I’ve been following.”
“So the sword?”
“You needed something to protect yourself with.”
Raiden looked down at the Hebidamashii one last time. Despite everything, Snake had still chose to stick by his side. To wait until he had enough strength back to protect him. “You’re really going to stay?”
“Not gonna leave you alone again, and I’m not quite ready for eternal rest. If you don’t want me here, however…”
“No! No, it’s just, nice to have you back.” Snake had really come back from the grave to keep him safe. Out of everyone, he picked Raiden. He didn’t hate him. He hadn’t tarnished his memory. He was here, phantom warmth starting to seep through the air around them, like an embrace.
“Nice to be back, Raiden.”