[Takame wasted no time in lifting her up in his arms once more. If he had time to think, he would regret his lack of compassion, lament the fact that he was not Hina with her way with comforting words. But he did not. Thoughts were impediments. All he could hear were sirens and brandished weapons. All he could feel was impending death. All he could think about was Nothing. He couldn’t afford it. He would make his escape, he could see literal light leading outside so close and yet so far. He began moving when a weak voice began to speak. A third in the room.
“Takame… oen… Shijin.”
And he froze. On his face was tangible horror and wide eyes, in his limbs was tension, in his chest he felt that his heart would stop. Against everything telling him, begging him to not look at the voice that he recognized, he turned his attention to the injured man on the ground wearing a help with a shattered faceplate making his bitter smirk visible as well as the blood falling from his mouth.
“‘Ts Yuzuka, remember? You've come a long way from the lil' shite you were, eh?”]
You… [He remembered the man. Worked with him, took orders from him when he was younger. He couldn’t breathe. He tried, he felt his chest moving but why did it feel like no air was coming in or going out.
“‘ow’d it feel… ta run away. To work with the savages…”
Takame could still hear the footsteps, still hear the sirens… but the sound… it was as if someone was smothering him.
“They’re still lookin’ for you… you an’ that traitor Kesona.]
… Stop talking.
[Takame shook. Visibly shook. Rose could no doubt feel it.
“Why bother runnin’ with the eikon slayer. They’ll get her… you… and that little bitch of Keso--”]
SHUT THE FUCK UP.
[Through the corridors his voice echoed, his words punctuated with a nearly crazed single handed slice along his former comrade’s neck spilling more blood against the wall he fell down and leaving him with no more words. Only muffled gagging as his last moments were spent choking.] Never... threaten her.
[Takame was still shaking. Shaking, hyperventilating. He felt paralyzed, was for a few moments after that outburst.
Then he ran. Ran faster, still holding the Warrior of Light, not letting go of his weapon... but not looking at her. Not wanting to look anywhere but where the exit was. Leave. Move. Move. Leave.
When did it begin to rain, he wondered. That must have been the only reason his face felt so wet.]
no subject
“Takame… oen… Shijin.”
And he froze. On his face was tangible horror and wide eyes, in his limbs was tension, in his chest he felt that his heart would stop. Against everything telling him, begging him to not look at the voice that he recognized, he turned his attention to the injured man on the ground wearing a help with a shattered faceplate making his bitter smirk visible as well as the blood falling from his mouth.
“‘Ts Yuzuka, remember? You've come a long way from the lil' shite you were, eh?”]
You… [He remembered the man. Worked with him, took orders from him when he was younger. He couldn’t breathe. He tried, he felt his chest moving but why did it feel like no air was coming in or going out.
“‘ow’d it feel… ta run away. To work with the savages…”
Takame could still hear the footsteps, still hear the sirens… but the sound… it was as if someone was smothering him.
“They’re still lookin’ for you… you an’ that traitor Kesona.]
… Stop talking.
[Takame shook. Visibly shook. Rose could no doubt feel it.
“Why bother runnin’ with the eikon slayer. They’ll get her… you… and that little bitch of Keso--”]
SHUT THE FUCK UP.
[Through the corridors his voice echoed, his words punctuated with a nearly crazed single handed slice along his former comrade’s neck spilling more blood against the wall he fell down and leaving him with no more words. Only muffled gagging as his last moments were spent choking.] Never... threaten her.
[Takame was still shaking. Shaking, hyperventilating. He felt paralyzed, was for a few moments after that outburst.
Then he ran. Ran faster, still holding the Warrior of Light, not letting go of his weapon... but not looking at her. Not wanting to look anywhere but where the exit was. Leave. Move. Move. Leave.
When did it begin to rain, he wondered. That must have been the only reason his face felt so wet.]