Hi guys!
The first thing you should know is that, in spite of the title, this has nothing to do with 'Drowning'. This fic is a series of five 100-word drabbles focusing on Legato's one-sided relationship with Knives. Written for my lovely Nelja after she requested it on my drabble meme via LiveJournal. (There are some advantages to watching my LJ.) This was fun to write. I adore Legato. His relationship with Knives is pretty depressing.
THIS FIC HAS SPOILERS TO TRIGUN: MAXIMUM VOLUME 13!!! Legato actually gets backstory in the manga, which makes a lot of sense, all things considered. It's kind of horrible, so I understand why it might not have been put into the anime. In spite of the fact that this takes place before the anime/manga begin, Legato's backstory is important here. You have been warned.
Water
"Pest," Knives says to Legato, shoving the boy away from where he had settled between his legs. His long bony limbs hit hard and painfully against the cement floor. Knives doesn't mind, so Legato tries not to. "I don't need that."
The young boy curls where he was thrown and bows his head, hands folded between his knees. "I'm sorry," he says, not quite sure how to please this master.
"Disgusting," Knives remarks, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. He rests his head on his hand and looks away from Legato. He'll get used to that look.
~*~
Knives looks human, feels human, smells human, and yet is in millions of ways not. He hates them so sincerely. Legato nods his head and agrees with him, and yet remains doomed to fall under that category.
"Sloppy," he says once. Knives never bothers to actually say it to Legato. "They're all made of water, but all they get out of it is varieties of sticky mess that they require to survive. Ingesting and expelling, purging.
"You can kill them easily," he says to Legato when he returns one day, coated in blood. "At least you're some use to me."
~*~
Knives is so far from human he cannot be understood – not by Legato. Not – Legato believes – by anyone. Everything Legato knows is about the flesh, about the body. Legato would carve off his flesh if it would please Knives. He continues to offer himself, but Knives refuses with disdain.
"Filth," he hisses and hardly wants to touch Legato, so he kicks the boy away with his foot instead. "Get out of my sight."
He is so far from human he even transcends the needs of the flesh. He does not eat, he does not drink.
He does not need Legato.
~*~
Young Legato can't stop thinking about Knives. In Augusta one day, he finds a man who looks a bit like his master. Legato thinks – maybe – this man can help get Knives out of his system.
In the hotel room, Legato's heart is pounding far too fast. When the man who looks like Knives reaches down to Legato's pants, his hand keeps moving. He grabs his own crotch and squeezes as tight as he can. He's in too much pain to cry out. Legato lets him kill himself, and lays on the floor for the rest of the night, eyes open.
~*~
He realizes that he can't take that back. The abuse he'd suffered left him truly paralyzed toward the sexual experience. Shaken, Legato returns to Knives. The fact that Knives doesn't really want him makes him seem so much more desirable. He's safe there.
He comes back from Augusta and happens upon Knives at a table eating something that might be a steak, and drinking a tall glass of water. He stands in the shadows and watches – stares – for a long time as Knives drinks, a drop sliding down his chin.
"You're back," he notices Legato. He cuts his meat. "Good."
