Loveless #9

[pinned_butterfly]

So. Another volume is in English. If you practiced Japanese more, you wouldn't need it. English manga is no good anyway; it destroys the flow of words.

Not that I would expect you to understand that.

It probably won't last in America. This sort of manga never sells. Practice some kanji and leave me alone.

Comments

:)

[bloody_spy]

[Bodies are only meat, when you get right down to it. They all feel about the same from the skin in - squishy, yielding, wet. Open a live one anywhere, and blood wells up to meet you. In this case, not very much, because the spines are almost exactly as big as the holes. But it's no contest. Even the weakest thorns can tear the toughest flesh. As long as they don't break anything vital ... Nisei clenches his teeth slightly as he pulls a few strands out of your upper leg and threads them back in, keeping them well away from the major, bifucating artery. If he could, he'd run you right through. Feel your heart struggle to function for the few, agonizing seconds it would take to fail, with literal holes punched through its thin walls. He's certain that 'if' is really a 'when.' Someday. If he hasn't come up with a more sadistic end for you by then. And, of course, if Seimei doesn't decide to kill you himself. That would be beautiful.

Nisei looks down at you for a long moment and lets you laugh; lets you earn the full measure of what he might do with your arrogant scorn. You have a way of playing right into your tormenter's hands, don't you, Soubi? Of putting yourself in a position where you'll be hurt, and blamed for what you suffer. It's absurd, watching you pretend to be unafraid and in control. One little slip of anger in Nisei's spells right now, and you'd never see your precious, pathetic Ritsuka again. But Nisei isn't angry. He's enjoying this; having you at his mercy, under his hands. He touches his fingers to the edge of the scars on your neck and the intact flesh between them, lightly dragging skin against skin in a caress. It's gentle, deliberate, cruelly knowing - I can touch you, and there isn't anything you can do about it. Disgusting traitor that you are ... maybe I'm the only one who will. He forgoes the sing-song, and the illusion that he's playing. Soulless eyes regard you as he says,]

"You're more vulnerable than you know."

[You can feel the pressure build relentlessly for a milisecond before your skin breaks. Nisei turns his head to one side just as two strands rip themselves simultaneously out of your forehead, leaving long, mocking cuts like a second set of eyebrows. Blood hits his face and jacket and glistens there. Nisei leaves it exactly where it fell. As the cuts start oozing into your eyes, they're joined by others - a deep one in your left shoulder, many shallowly cris-crossing your ribs, a long one on your right inner thigh that leaves blood running down your leg and pooling at the knee, where it touches ground, where your pant leg is soaking through. The attack is faster than thought, almost, as if you split open at invisible seams. The sharp thorns Nisei tore free are not a fraction of what's still embedded in your body, but as the light gutters and goes out, your pain receptors start to really protest in unison. He can feel them sounding the alarm, even as soft, useless scabs develop around the first spines that went in.]

Re: :)

[pinned_butterfly]

[Pain is no more than another signal, Soubi thinks. No more than the body telling the mind in long, silent shouts that something is going wrong. Pain in and of itself cannot hurt him, cannot kill him, and cannot separate him from his master. But it has its uses. He thinks back to Ritsu-sensei's lessons, which have echoed in his mind endlessly and hatefully for years: Pain is a signal to caution. It is a shield, if you know how to use it. You must grit your teeth and bear it.

Yes, the lesson still holds true, though he has turned from the man who said it. Pain is his shield, and it must be felt to be used. He exhales in a sigh. He opens his mind to the attack, opens his body so that his muscles relax even further, his chest unfolding and his stomach going flat. He embraces and welcomes the pain. It lances through him everywhere, hot and wet and urging him to be afraid. But he will not be afraid.

His eyes gaze calmly back up at Nisei, the arrogant, ignorant, false Fighter. Watch him reach a hand out and touch him, stinging and utterly gentle, even as the thorns he created ravish his body. His skin is so sensitive that he can feel where every molecule of Nisei's fingers lie, on the tough scar tissue and on the soft, unmarred skin between the scars. It makes a pattern of Nisei's skin, like his own brand is burning itself into Nisei's fingers. Hurting him for daring to touch the sacred mark that is not his. He blinks as blood spatters from his head onto Nisei's face, drips hot onto his eyelids and makes his eyes water slightly.

Another exhale, from the diaphragm. His skin screams in pain and runs with blood; even drawing the breath drives the thorns further and it is an agony. His heart beats slowly like that of an athlete before a marathon. Pain is a shield. Pain is a shield. His eyes are locked on Nisei's.]

I am as vulnerable as I wish to be.

[The words come out slightly choked, and his throat convulses against Nisei's fingers. But he speaks calmly. This impotent Fighter can do no harm to him unless he allows it, no matter how hard he may try.]

[bloody_spy]

[You poor fool. Nisei can see you have yourself convinced, but that's not enough to sway him. Not when your lies are resting on belief and desperation and air. Being a blank suits you in so many ways, doesn't it? You don't belong. You shouldn't exist. You've overwritten yourself so many times it's amazing you still have open space to write on.

Nisei drags his hand single-mindedly over your scars, eyes narrowed to slits, feeling the echoes of Seimei's knife through his fingers, and his own name charged, aching, and thrumming with magic. This is what you're controlled with. This is what you're obedient to. He'd hate you no matter who you were, for bearing these marks, but he hates you, specifically, for who you are. And yet ... he can afford to touch this. Though your reproach lances out at him, that can't hurt him. The pain he feels is temporary, and better still, utterly under his control. He could stop at any point and he doesn't, because he was born with the name that Seimei impressed on you; born with more of a right to identify himself as BELOVED than you will ever have.

You had no business daring to pretend that you were anything more than a replacement - a nameless fighter with enough power behind your spells to be worth claiming. That's all you have going for you, in practical terms. But he won't punish you for your impersonation, because you wouldn't be alive when he finished. There's too much anger there. Pulling out any of it would pull out all of it, and no. For all your brave talk about only being as vulnerable as you want to be, you like it when other people make choices for you. And continuing to exist isn't a burden he's going to relieve you of today. He'd rather watch you pine, and hurt, and avoid looking at your own face every time you pass a mirror. Such deep self-loathing under your defensive pride, but every time he's said as much, the fact that he can see it shocks you. It shouldn't. You're not hiding as well as you used to.]

I can't tell you how funny it is to watch you insist that you're fine while you bleed out on the floor. [Deadpan.] Everything you think you can keep to yourself, everything you're biting back for the sake of your nonexistent dignity ... I don't need it.

[Nisei takes his hand off your neck to mop the blood out of your eyes, and then pulls his hand back and hits you hard against the side of your head, an openhanded slap that rings out painfully inside your ear and makes the room sway dizzily. He leans down to your level, putting his head close enough to your other ear that his hair brushes against your shoulder, and says in a perfectly audible undertone,]

You're the lowest of the low, Soubi. You couldn't be there for Ritsuka, and your real master is disgusted with you. You know what you're good for? Sating my hunger for pain. You provoked this, and I know why. It's because you deserve this. Pretending you're better than me gives you a comfort you don't get to reach for. It wasn't ever okay, but now you've really run out of excuses. You're not the perfect anything. Not anymore. So don't.

[pinned_butterfly]

[You couldn't be there for Ritsuka. The words echo in his ears, high-pitched and sparking in the aftermath of the slap Nisei planted against his face. He feels his body growing hot with the pain and tries to swallow the fear that is welling inside of his stomach. Not fear for himself - fear for Ritsuka. If he doesn't protect Ritsuka, Ritsuka is in danger from forces he doesn't yet understand. Seimei will protect his body, but his mind? Seimei... can no longer protect Ritsuka's feelings. Not now that he's revealed his true nature.

He feels himself gagging, his stomach bucking inside of him, the thorns strangling him from all sides. His eyes slide shut: he must stay calm, he must fight it. He must protect Ritsuka.

You couldn't be there for Ritsuka.

Soubi's Fighter Field expands suddenly outward, cradled deep within his body so that it explodes from him in a blast. The thorns seer and shake; there is static in Soubi's ears and ozone on his tongue. He cannot fight, not physically. He has not been ordered to fight. But he can use his own magic to defend himself. He can rebuff Nisei, just a bit. He must protect himself. To protect Ritsuka.]