[fic] the enemy of my enemy
[ao3 mirror] ~420 words bekuyuu notes: character death. inspired by the shingetsu line in the preview for next week. (hover here for it if you don't know which one i mean!)
Because he’s soft, foolish. Because he was never meant to survive – Vector has learned about survival of the fittest and it strikes him as so perfectly right. Vector plunges a shard of crystal into Yuuma’s back and isn’t it natural, that he should do so? Isn’t it the way life is supposed to go in this world?
“But— I thought you were—”
“You thought I was what?” Vector is hissing then, twisting the crystal in further, and he leans his head over Yuuma’s shoulder until their cheeks are practically touching. “Redeemed? Your friend?”
“Shingetsu—”
“It’s Vector.” And that’s worth it to see some of the life go out of Yuuma’s eyes in a way that has nothing to do with the shard in his back or the blood soaking Vector’s hands. “I was never Shingetsu.” And it’s true, isn’t it? Once upon a time, maybe, in a life far from his, but the realisation that he was manipulated doesn’t simply erase every string that’s been pulled throughout his lives, does it?
Maybe once upon a time, there was someone like that mask. But that someone wasn’t him.
“But you— but—”
Vector snorts, then. Wrenches the shard free and catches Yuuma when he falls, tossing the crystal blade away to free his hands.
(when all is said and done he’ll go back and find that crystal and he will doubt, suddenly, but by then it will be much, much too late)
“But I told you a pretty little story?” he asks, turning Yuuma in his arms and tilting the boy’s head up toward him. “Cried for you? It’s not my fault you believed me again.”
There is blood beginning to drip from Yuuma’s mouth, now, or perhaps it’s only the stains that Vector’s fingers smear across his chin. And he is so very small, so very light in Vector’s arms, and Vector fears it rejoices in it.
“You helped,” Yuuma says, soft and hurt and so deliciously betrayed-sounding.
And so Vector hums, lips splitting into a smile as he brushes bloodied fingers over Yuuma’s chin, and when he speaks his voice is high and lilting; is Shingetsu rather than Vector.
“Did you think that made us friends, Yuuma-kun? ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend’, and all?” He smiles wider and laughs, leans in close like he’s telling a secret. “Silly, Yuuma-kun. The enemy of my enemy is just an enemy of mine who’s too stupid to kill me first.”
