Ryuko could feel the raw, bloody edge of her former existence taunting her, dangling by a sinew as she gazed down her nose at the man pinned beneath her boot. Something inside her was rebelling, screaming at her to stop this and turn her blade against people who actually deserved it. The air in her lungs felt sharper, colder than it had ever been when she had worn anything but Junketsu, and it sent her blood humming through her veins, quashing the rebel voice into silence.
"Oi, Kinagase," she purred, reaching down with her free hand to tangle her fingers in the red shock of hair atop his head, yanking him upwards. "Always wondered why y'threw in your lot with those naked bastards. Y'almost seem too smart for that shit." After a thoughtful pause, a devilish grin split across Ryuko's lips. "But I guess it's for your sister, eh? Revenge is such a common motive; I guess that's fittin' for somebody like you, though."
Ryuko almost hadn't noticed when the brand on her wrist dwindled down to zero. It'd been a day like any other: she'd made her coffee. Gone for a walk in the morning. Went grocery shopping. Called up Mako and played catch up. It wasn't until she'd gone for a stroll in the park that she'd noticed the numbers on her wrist beginning to accelerate in their decreasing, prompting her to look around in alarm.
Her steps quickened to match her breath as she turned every which way, trying to find the so-called "soulmate" that she was destined to meet. Twenty seconds. Fifteen. Ten. Five. And then...
"--Oof!" she grunted, her body colliding hard into someone else's. She had been so focused on her surroundings that she had neglected to keep an eye out on what was in front of her. She didn't need to look at her wrist to know that this was it. She had just had the wind knocked out of her by her supposed soulmate, who was easily three heads taller than her.
Ryuko looked up at the stranger, silent for a moment before saying the first thing that came to mind.
"Figures my soulmate'd look like a god damn rooster."
Lord hath mercy on a man who treats life as a game, and other beings as toys.
It was a kind thing he wasn't religious.
Sweet on his lips were the words he devoured; The 'How could you?'s and 'Don't do it's which fell on deaf ears. The blood on his hands from when he took that chance, a one in a million and stabbed deep into the chest his enemy were staining even on black gloves. The piercing ring in his ears drove his conscience to a depth too great in his mind to be heard. There was nothing that could stop him.
Her silver-blue eyes had a look of terror as she stood trembling, gazing back at him over her shoulder and through the black tresses which fell over her face messily. She whispered those three syllables with a voice of betrayal and for the first time, he heard her say it. Funny. He was never worthy of a name until then.
That was where his memories jumped to black and he was launched into the present, a hole in his memory preventing anymore reminiscing on the subject. Sensing movement, his eyes sifted through the room for a figure obscured by the darkness which emanated to every corner. Locating it, he ascertained the beings identity as a Tsumugu Kinagase and was momentarily confused.
Just then, his memories began to flood back to the surface. Unable to capture the Matoi girl, he had settled for his companion instead. His friend of many years, who had stood in stunned silence as he quite literally stabbed his greatest ally in the back, looking stupid to be frank.
He took them, but for nothing more than his own enjoyment. They were nothing but a pawn, one he had developed close bonds with in his years spent undercover. Who he had shared the same armor with, drank with, lived with. In short: useless to their grand plans, which had been so ruthlessly foiled that night. There was no need to capture them.. no need at all, other than to vent his emotions on them; his feelings of frustration and regret toward his failed mission.. and towards his Niece.
Their hands had been tied, body thrown unceremoniously into the corner by the inhuman strength of Nudist Beach gloves secretly reinforced with Life Fibers. Watching him lie there like that unmoving, as right of mind as he ever would be, the only thing that ran through his head was that, that friend of his was
