Long ago, there was a little boy. The little boy loved and respected his parents. They taught him that when he was to return from play, he was to wash his shoes of dirt and mud so as to not track it through the house. Every day he would go outside to play with his friends, his shoes getting dirty, and then come home to wash them off when he was done. Every day, he would play, and every day he would clean his shoes.

One morning, the little boy had to get ready to attend classes. Every morning he would wake up, dress himself, and would go to the education building where he was to learn. His teacher reminded him to wash his shoes every day when he entered. Every day the boy would go to education and wash his shoes, then return home and wash his shoes again. Every day the boy did this.

One lunch period, the boy had made a friend. His friend was dirty, all of the time he was dirty. He did not wash his shoes. He did not wash his hair. He did not wash his clothes. He was dirty all of the time. But they were friends. The boy and his dirty friend would play every day.

One afternoon, the boy was called to war. He did not want to go to war. But his friend was tasked before him, and so the two went and learned to fight with a weapon. The boy learned to clean his weapon every day. And so every day the boy would go to his tent, clean his shoes, and then clean his weapon. Every day the boy did this. His dirty friend did not. The dirty boy's weapon rusted and cracked.

One night, the boy went to battle with his dirty friend. The boy carried his shining weapon and his clean boots. The dirty boy's sword was rusted and cracked, and his boots were worn and tattered. They fought and fought, dust and smoke billowing into the air. The boy killed all of the enemies and was victorious. But when he stopped to look for his friend, he saw his friend had been slain. The dirty boy's weapon had broken, his boots had fallen apart. The boy's boots were covered in the dirty boy's blood.

The boy carried his friend home and buried him. And when the boy returned home, he washed his boots and cleaned his weapon. The dirt came off. The blood came off. But he could not clean the death of his friend from his mind.