Was it for Honor?

Was it for honor? Was it for justice? Was it for himself, or was it for her? Why? Why was he out here? He couldn’t figure it out himself, but he knew for some reason he had to be out here. He was on the side of justice, the side of good. He was going to vanquish evil. Or was it the other way around. He figured it depended on your viewpoint. He was both good and evil. The just and the unjust. But so was the other guy. They had been rivals before they were born, fighting for what those before them had bee fighting for. It was a rivalry so old that most no longer knew why it had started. They were the oldest sons of the two families and the future leaders. He had killed more than he could keep track of, but he no longer cared to keep track. When he was old enough to shoot a gun, he was given his what he thought was his calling. To kill those who had been fighting and killing his kin. Now he stood in the middle of the street staring down the leader of those killers ready to end this here and now. The other guy said something to him, but what was it. Something about it being his moving. He now had to do something. What to do? Even before the other guy could figure out what was going on, he drew his gun and fired a single shoot, ripping his rivals gun for its holster. He had won, but he had to finish it. But there was no room for more blood shed, no room in the cemetery for casualties of this war. He tipped his hat to his opponent and turned away and walked off the street.