#ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ † arc 04

[stcnebled-blog]

‘ you shouldn’t be here. ’ voice is soft, lulling. on the contrary, gaze is stern and so is your posture. hand rests on hilt of sword, its natural resting place. you certainly mean no threat-- you’re sure madre wouldn’t approve of harming children. you’re not keen on doing so regardless. children are lovely little things, undeserving of such harm.

which is exactly why you wonder why she is here. this area is hardly fit for such a pretty little child like this girl. what could she possibly see in this place that would bring her here?

‘ are you perhaps lost? or looking for someone? ’ offer a tad of a smile-- no reason to appear threatening, after all. ‘ i don’t suppose you have business with madre. ’

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☠

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you do not want this, cries your heart.

you do not have a choice, answers your mind as you draw your obsidian blade from its sheath. that sound as the blade scrapes out of its protective covering is one that has always grated on your ears, but this time it seems somehow sharper. the sword itself feels oddly heavy ( more than normal ) as you point its tip in his direction.

‘ do not make this harder than it already is, piccolo, ’ you mutter softly. of course, you do not expect him to comply. that’s the thing with these heroes– they’re too stubborn for their own good, too self-destructive. it breaks your stone heart to see him ready his own blades, quickly mended as you turn your body to that of diamond. he’ll have no luck cutting through you in this form– perhaps then you can wear him out, push him to his limits and then gain the upper hand. it may not be the quick end you wish to deal him ( he doesn’t deserve such a dragged-out finish to his life ) but you’re left with little choice. 

you’ll just have to keep an eye out for any openings in which to strike him down sooner. 

unfortunately for both parties, wearing him down seems to be the only option. you quickly realize that, despite his age, he is quite adept at swordplay, at covering the spots that are usually left open and vulnerable. is he truly a quirkless hero? you have a hard time believing this now– it almost seems as if he’s got an analysis quirk of sorts. or perhaps precognition. 

oh, how you wish it didn’t have to be this way. some foolish remnant of your past self, a naive wishful thinker, is already wondering about wanting to teach him, to refine his swordplay until he has mastered it just as you have– or, well, as much as a self-taught individual can master the trade, that is.

cease such mindless dreaming! you have a job to do! 

with a frustrated growl ( both at yourself and, honestly, this entire situation ) you parry his wrath blow and lunge, using your weight to force him to stagger back before you make your own jump backwards, putting several feet between the two of you once more. diamond gives way to flesh and bone, and you open your mouth to address the fact that you don’t want this, please just leave so i don’t have to kill you and–

and he closes the distance before you can even speak. you try to bring your sword to meet his, but you’re not quick enough and then all you can see is white. all you can feel is pain– something so new and foreign because never have you been caught off guard in this form. you’ve always deflected damage with your quirk, but this time he’s too fast. blade pierces through your abdomen of true flesh, not any kind of gem or rock, and all you can do is sputter and gasp. your voice has left you– you cannot even scream despite the pain. even as you shove a foot into his chest and kick him backwards, forcing his sword out of your body in an equally painful and abrupt manner, you say nothing. expression only offers shock while you press your gloved hands to the wound, now bleeding more profusely with the blade no longer plugging the wound.

collapse on your knees and wheeze now, gaze falling to ground. don’t look at the wound, the blood, the stains left on your clothes and skin– you don’t fear the sight of blood, per se, but it will bring up unwanted memories and this is hardly the time or place for traumatic flashbacks.

force your gaze back up to the young hero instead. offer a strained grin, even as you cough and hack up blood. just ignore it and focus on him. 

‘ m… meglio delle attese… ’ chuckle through your labored breathing and ignore how your vision blurs. ‘ you have speed on your side, piccolo. i suggest you use it well. use it to avoid the other members of the family. ’

‘ madre has never been kind to those that harm her children. it is not a wrath i wish you to experience– so run, child. prioritize your own safety for a change. ’

[stcnebled-blog]

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‘ i do not wish to hurt you, piccolo, ’ comes the gentle warning coupled with the sharp sound of the unsheathing of a blade. ‘ but i will not allow anyone to come between madre and her goals. if i must eliminate you in order to ensure such, then god save my soul, for you have forced my hand. ’ 

with practically the speed of a bullet, you surge forward, obsidian blade poised for a lethal strike. it quite literally pains you to have to do this– this child does not deserve this cruel fate. it isn’t his fault that he is doing what he believes is right. it is the same for you, after all. you both are following orders, and perhaps that is what makes you so angry in this battle. not because you must follow orders ( no, you would never dare protest against madre’s commands ) but because he must.

where is the freedom that children deserve? is he truly choosing this for himself? is this truly what he wants?

ah– you find that your blade has stopped short of it’s mark for the second time in his presence ( never mind that this time he is the mark ). the hilt trembles and clatters in your gloved jadeite jade hands with a soft but constant clattering sound and you then find that your breathing is labored and uneven.

you don’t want to do this. you don’t want to take away a child’s life. you don’t want to become the monster that had taken yours.

you have to. if you don’t, madre will be in danger. you will have lost your family again and it will be your fault. your curse. spare them that fate.

the war inside your head continues for several moments before you finally decide you’ve had enough. it won’t be your fault this time. you will not lose a second family just because you were too weak, too scared to get the job done. this ends now! 

and so with a nearly feral screech, you raise your sword above your head once more and then bury the obsidian blade in his flesh. in his shoulder.

you missed.

how could you miss?

fall to your knees after removing your blade from the child’s shoulder. obsidian clatters to the ground, bloodied and abhorrent to you now. tears fall as you turn from jadeite jade to your true flesh and bone, hand coming to cover your face in shame.

‘ turn back and leave, piccolo. this is not your end. ’ voice is shaky and wracked with sobs, yet still assertive. ‘ please… go home, child. i do not want this for you. ’ 

god save your soul, you can only imagine how madre and the others might react to the fact that you’ve spared an enemy.

[stcnebled-blog]

“Friendship bracelet” for Megumi

Send “Friendship bracelet” for our muse’s to be handcuffed together.

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‘ ah... now this is quite the predicament. ’ stated bluntly and coupled with a tug on the handcuffs. at the very least, both of you have one hand free. you know from experience, though, that working with just one hand is incredibly difficult to manage. not impossible, though. especially since you’ve both still got some movement capabilities to your cuffed hands. certainly limited and in need of lots of coordination, but it’s still there.

first and foremost, though, you must find a way out of these. coordination and movement may be possible, but no one wants to be handcuffed forever. especially not with another person. at least it’s someone you trust, though. there are definitely far worse people you could have been cuffed to.

‘ let’s see about finding a key. i can easily use my quirk and snap my hand off to be free, but that won’t help you very much, if at all. unless your own quirk can unlock the cuffs? ’ you don’t think so, but there’s plenty of room for doubt. you don’t know the full extent of her quirk’s capabilities and applications, after all. science had never quite been your forte, after all.

[stcnebled-blog]

a swing of a blade stops short of your mark, though he’s not your focus anymore. while he scrambles away from death, fearing your chilling lack of mercy from the edge of the blade, your gaze is focused on another.

a boy. a child. a child in a costume. a hero? most likely. that only makes things complicated-- if he’s here to stop you, that is. and you have no doubt that he is now if he wasn’t already going to. you weren’t exactly trying to give that bastard a haircut with the sword in your hand, after all. but what are you to do now? you have no quarrel with this child. not unless he opposes madre or has been arranging those rotten quirk marriages. you sincerely doubt the latter. 

‘ you should leave. ’ stand straight now. dust yourself off with gloved hands and sheath your sword. ‘ i will not raise my sword against you, piccolo. turn now and leave. ’ 

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‘ are you... feeling alright? ’ question comes with a worried glance, brows knitted together. you’re fairly certain the answer is no, but perhaps this state of being is normal for this girl. either way, though, it does raise your concerns. she may be a perfect stranger, yes, but it’s no secret that you’re particularly soft-hearted when it comes to those younger than you. 

which is why you’ve approached the younger girl in the first place. you don’t reach for her, no, because you at least know better than that. nonetheless, your concern and worry is palpable, tentative steps taken toward the girl. 

‘ you don’t look well-- do you need help? ’ 

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fractures run all along your body, and each movement you make causes chips to flake off your body of zircon. you left hand of the same crystal, snapped off from the wrist due to an arrow striking true at a cleavage plane in the wrist, balances carefully in your lap as you groom your surroundings for the flecks that might have fallen off. such a troublesome task, especially with only one hand available for use-- it’ll be even more difficult trying to put yourself back together in such a state. not to mention your zircon reserves are almost depleted. you’ll have to find as many of the fallen pieces of yourself as possible so you won’t have to use as much of your extra stash. then you’ll have to demand your next payment in the form of zircon, and not use your zircon form.

you suppose that’s something to worry about later, though, because for right now you’re having trouble finding the bits of yellow-orange crystals falling off your body in the first place. 

‘ son of a-- where the hell are they all falling to? ’ 

[stcnebled-blog]

fine fracture runs along a diamond arm, causing a wince. small pieces begin to fall away and she curses under her breath-- of course, she had known diamond to be second-rate in terms of impact durability, but the intention had been to use the weight of 134+ pounds of pure diamond to add more force to the swing of her sword. unfortunately, the shock of the sword’s impact seemed to have traveled along the cleave plane of the gem-- minimally so, but still annoying.

‘ should have used jade... or perhaps ruby. no cleavage in ruby, and a 9.0 hardness... ’ pietrina muses quietly as she bends down and begins to search the ground for retrievable pieces of diamond. she isn’t completely worried about find every little piece, especially since they were all pretty tiny and she has a stash of diamonds at home to replace them with, but would rather not have to tap into said stash for as long as possible. it’d be preferable to use those in emergencies-- such as the time in which she lost her head and didn’t recover enough of the fractured pieces of her neck.

she’s in no real hurry this time, though. her opponent is unconscious and already bound, blindfolded, gagged and hidden away. no chance of disturbing her calm search. 

‘ let’s see... they might be too small to find... might have to tap into the stash anyway... how annoying. ’ 

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