Pain and death only begets more pain and death. In order to atone you must move beyond yourself and find what is in you that is good and worth living for. Worth fighting for. Otherwise there will be nothing for you…
(There is nothing for me) Megumi replied in her mind, too weary and resigned to spare the energy for an argument. She did as he bid her, wrapping her stick thin arms around him, and then rested her bloody head against the crook of his neck as he lifted her.
“I’m sorry, Ken-san,” she whispered, strands of his crimson hair getting caught in her mouth. She wasn’t sure if she’d been the catalyst for whatever had befallen them in the storage room, and frankly didn’t care. Not now.
“Hold on,” he warned her. She nodded and tightened her grip. Then he was off, the muscles in his arms and legs tensing like steel springs, as he leapt. She closed her eyes as they went into free fall, feeling gravity pulling. He landed, ran and then leaped again. And again. And again.
The city was waking up, the weak winter sun illuminating the world beneath it. Kenshin was in mid-leap, soaring like one never earthbound between tar papered rooftops and tin ledges. His heart was racing, beating out a brilliant, brutal staccato that would have killed a normal human being. She adjusted her grip on him, her arms sliding over slick, exposed, sweat covered skin.
Unbidden, she looked up at him, at his eyes fixed on an unknown horizon then moved past him to look up at the sky. It was clear, blue and infinitely high. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. Megumi sighed and closed her eyes again as they landed.
He was panting now, each inhalation and exhalation sounding torturous. “Kenshin. Stop,” she bid him quietly as they landed on a rather nondescript roof. Megumi looked around and saw nothing, save for a rather sad looking little shack tucked away behind a faded, peeling billboard. She knew he’d argue, but she was a doctor and could tell that he was nearing terminal exhaustion.
“Please, you need to stop and rest,” Megumi started to remove her arms from around his neck, determined to force the issue if needed.
no subject
(There is nothing for me) Megumi replied in her mind, too weary and resigned to spare the energy for an argument. She did as he bid her, wrapping her stick thin arms around him, and then rested her bloody head against the crook of his neck as he lifted her.
“I’m sorry, Ken-san,” she whispered, strands of his crimson hair getting caught in her mouth. She wasn’t sure if she’d been the catalyst for whatever had befallen them in the storage room, and frankly didn’t care. Not now.
“Hold on,” he warned her. She nodded and tightened her grip. Then he was off, the muscles in his arms and legs tensing like steel springs, as he leapt. She closed her eyes as they went into free fall, feeling gravity pulling. He landed, ran and then leaped again. And again. And again.
The city was waking up, the weak winter sun illuminating the world beneath it. Kenshin was in mid-leap, soaring like one never earthbound between tar papered rooftops and tin ledges. His heart was racing, beating out a brilliant, brutal staccato that would have killed a normal human being. She adjusted her grip on him, her arms sliding over slick, exposed, sweat covered skin.
Unbidden, she looked up at him, at his eyes fixed on an unknown horizon then moved past him to look up at the sky. It was clear, blue and infinitely high. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. Megumi sighed and closed her eyes again as they landed.
He was panting now, each inhalation and exhalation sounding torturous.
“Kenshin. Stop,” she bid him quietly as they landed on a rather nondescript roof. Megumi looked around and saw nothing, save for a rather sad looking little shack tucked away behind a faded, peeling billboard. She knew he’d argue, but she was a doctor and could tell that he was nearing terminal exhaustion.
“Please, you need to stop and rest,” Megumi started to remove her arms from around his neck, determined to force the issue if needed.