ANOTHER ROUND OF RANTS FROM ME! ENJOY!
The lance protruded from the man's bare stomach, the stench of fresh blood diffused into the air, rubbing the senses of fatigue and unconsciousness into the man. His stomach growled in pain, howling and panted as if it had a life of its own—the lance dug deeper into his skin, pushed through his back by the strong metallic arm that grabbed hold of the other end of the spear.
That arm did not remain in tact for long, as the one injured slashed out with his great sword—which was groaning in crimson pleasure. The lance soon dissipated into dust, leaving the once kneeling man to tumble down onto the floor, a gigantic howl through his stomach. He was no claymore, and he could not regenerate like the others.
"C-clare." The holey man called out, to no avail, there was no reply.
"Clare…" He said once again, groaning in pain as the electrifying shock of any slight movement surged through his broken body. He had single handedly taken down two of the strongest Awakened Beings consecutively one after another.
Gritting his teeth past his pain, he rolled over that his was lying on the ground with his back facing upwards. He pulled himself forward with his hands, his eyes transfixed on a sole woman, panting heavily, without an arm.
"Clare!" he cried out, reaching out and grabbed her displaced arm, bringing it back to her. "Clare," He said once more, his voice gentle and soft. "Here, your arm. I can lend you some of my powers."
The woman lay panting, oblivious to her surroundings. After all, she had just lost an arm, over-exerted herself, and almost got impaled by the incoming lance after falling unconscious.
The man pushed himself upright, letting out a blood-gurgling cry of pain as the blood flowed freely from the hole through his stomach. His hand rested at the connecting point of her arm and her shoulder. A green light pulsed at his command, the little remaining of his skin flowed itself to his fingertips and into the woman's arm, connecting the arm.
He let out not a single cry of pain in the process, being so accustomed to the pain of have his own skin torn out from his fingertips. The woman was still unconscious, and her breathing slowly lightened and color returned to her face.
The opposite however, was occurring to the man. More and more of his energy was lost as it was transferred, her eyes fluttered open at the near expense of the closure of his own eyes.
"Raki…" She groaned and pushed herself upright. The man smiled at the sound of his own name, sweetly sounding from the mouth of the woman she loved.
"Are you alright, Clare?" Raki asked, full of concern in his tone. The woman however, shot her eyes somewhere else. Past the man, away from the enemy's corpse, finally her gaze centered. The first and only male claymore who managed to control his bloodlust.
"Is he alright?" She questioned, leaving a Raki totally speechless. She ignored my question, and the first person she thought about was…
His eyes flashed a look of distraught, hurt, "He's fine." He finally squeezed out. His frustration got the better of him for a moment, "I'll go make sure he's alright," She smiled a smile of relief at him.
"I'll do it just for you." He whispered, and forced his legs upright, the blood still pouring down from the hole. Taking rugged, pitiful steps towards the man, his eyes flashed, growling to shut itself down, his whole body wanted to die already, but he could not let that happen. Not when she still didn't love him.
She only cared about the man she felt something for—the man who looked like a friend from her past.
Her tears had not slid down past her cheek when the barely recognizable man a few meters away called out, "Clare, he—he'sfine." Her previous worries for him were thrown away and disposed as she noticed Raki fall to the ground just as the Claymore sat upright. They caught their glances and rushed towards each other.
"Clare!" He cried out, "You're safe…"
"I'm glad you're safe as well." She said passively, although her face showed her true emotions. Her usual straight smile curved up at the ends, a truly happy smile.
They enjoyed their time of joy, leaving Raki stranded alone in the world of hurt. He had finally found Clare after more than ten years of wandering. He rejected countless women, searched every end of the world just to find her. What did he get in return? The honor of witnessing his very own loved on embracing another? The opportunity to give up his life for her lover?
I don't deserve this… Raki thought, his tears overflowed, some even managed to flow into his nostrils. But I can never get angry at her.
He used to imagine her smiling face and his mouth curl up into a gentle smile just at the thought. This time, her smile was real, it was true. He felt obliged to smile once more, despite his hurt, despite his agony.
"Raki." He heard her call out to him just before he shut his eyes. "Raki, are you alright?"
His heart fluttered happily for a moment, knowing she still felt concerned for him. After a quick nod, she helped to lift him upright, "Could you heal the others please?"
So that was her intention. She didn't care about me at all. Am I so dispensable?
"If it's for you, Clare."
Raki trudged over towards the nearest Claymore, she had lost several fingers and a huge gnash through her hip. The green light pulsed once more, and he turned his head back, hoping—just hoping that she would be looking at him. But no, that was not to be. She had gone back to the other man, whispering words of love in each others' ears.
He was hurt, and the Claymore he healed knew it. Her eyes smiled comfortingly at him, as if calling out to him, as if she had hoped Clare would love him as much as he loved her. He replied her with a smile of his own, no matter how fake it seemed. She pushed herself upright and went over to the rest.
Raki healed all twelve of the other Claymores, a total of 14 people. He had almost no skin left, only his face had some skin left. The Claymores did not notice him. He was lying down; cold, frigid.
All of a sudden, the light that lit up the whole placed diminished, leaving a dimly lit battlefield. "That's right… None of us noticed him." A Claymore spoke up.
"Him?"
"He is the reason we're all alive." Miria said, a tone of elegance along with steel in her voice.
"We are despicable."
Murmurs spread throughout the group as they complained and regretted how bad they had treated him.
Clare however, rushed over to his side immediately, her eyes opened and struck wide as she saw his cold body lying on the uneven, rugged floor. The ground around him—and around her as well—seemed more filled with life than the other parts of the ground.
"Raki!" She howled in despair, cursing the gods above.
Miria had left the group as well, everyone who had known the war-hero had left the others alone. "You caused his death, Clare." Miria said mockingly.
"I-I didn't mean to!" Clare denied, "I was unconscious, I couldn't do any—"
"Don't give excuses for yourself." Helen interrupted. "I lost an eye, and he gave back my sight. I saw everything. You and your pathetic excuse for a lover, you shouldn't even be able to live without guilt."
Smirks and taunts slowly rose and dispersed at the sound of his groan, "D-don't mock C—" He choked out blood.
"Don't speak, Raki, I beg you!" Clare cried out, her hands cupped around his bloodied face.
"Plea-Please don't touch me, Clare." Raki smiled up at her, oblivious to the pairs of eyes looking at the two of them, "I took quite some time to make sure I cleaned you up when I healed your arm."
"I thought you could heal yourself, Raki!" Clare cried out, her tears dripping onto his wounds, causing him to wince in slight pain, "I really thought you could…"
Raki reached out and patted her back, "I'm fine, don't worry. As long as you're safe, Clare, everything's fine. I can only heal others. It's actually a transferring technique."
Clare's eyes widened for the uncountable-th time that cold evening, "You mean…"
"He means every time he healed a patch of our skin, he must give up his own, every bit of energy we have gained all came from him." Miria enlightened her.
She burst into tears once more, clutching his skinless arm. "Don't cry, please…" He groaned, begging with a frown.
"You should've just let her die, Raki!" Helen said.
"Shut up!" Raki howled in fury, only to be silenced by Miria's responsible hand.
Clare finally figured it out. "That lance…" She choked back her tears, "You…"
"I didn't do anything," Raki lied, "Isley, he was strong. It was his last attempt to destroy me." She seemed unconvinced, "I really didn't do anything." Still no signs of acceptance, "You didn't play a role in this hole, I promise." He choked on his laugh at the word 'promise'.
Clare's eyes softened as she slowly believed him, he wouldn't break a promise anyway, and she believed him, to Miria's great amusement. "That's... Take back my energy!"
Raki's eyes turned angry, as a frown appeared on his face, "Can't you just accept it!" He cried out, furious at Clare for the first time. "You always ask me to help him—I mean, the other, and you don't even accept my help!"
Clare retreated slightly, before Miria spoke up, "Raki, how did you… Clare had the heaviest wounds, and her side was eaten up by Isley as well."
Raki shot her a pleading glare not to say more, but clare understood. She ripped the remaining of his tunic off. Gasps were heard among them, Raki's back had lost at least half of it's flesh, it was like a half-body. He didn't even look human now.
Clare's heart panged in pain as she saw his state, Raki immediately snatched the cloth back and covered the wound.
"You…" Clare stuttered. I didn't notice any of this…
"Clare, I know I've never been able to say this out right before. I know it may have been obvious considering what I've always been saying… But I want you to hear this, clearly."
Raki gulped down his saliva and tried to conceal his blush. Blushing at a time like this, this man… Miria thought.
"I-I love you." He turned away, leaving a surprised Clare staring into empty space. She didn't know who she loved. She couldn't understand love, she didn't understand love.
"Raki, you know I cannot give you an answ—"
"Its fine, Clare. Don't even think about it. It's just some emotion-letting-out-session of a young boy who likes to fantasize and dream." Raki beamed up at her, but his eyes showed his true hints of sorrow.
"Raki, I just can't tell you how I feel now. I'll tell you later, I'll sort it out, and I'll tell you!" Clare said, followed by many insults being hurled at her.
"Stop scolding her!" Raki defended fiercely once more, leaving the more mature Claymore to dwell on the temporary glee. "Take your time, Clare."
Clare nodded and closed her eyes, squeezing the tears out of her eyes, "I wi—"
Raki's eyes were shut. The land was filled with despair and sadness. The ground showered by tears of all 14 of them.
The Claymores left Clare alone for a moment, with the exception of Miria. "So you don't love him?"
"I-I don't know…" Clare sobbed.
"At least you know he loved you, to the point of dying for your sake." She smirked, and stood up to leave.
"Stop blaming everything on me like he didn't give up his life to heal all of you!" Clare shook her head intensely.
"Heh, the lance that was supposed to impale you—did you see it?" Miria said, advancing back towards Clare as she backed-off.
"I…"
The memories flooded her mind.
"Clare!!!" Raki screamed his eyes wide as Isley had to use her as an under-handed move. He was, after all, going to die already. Clare's eyes shut itself in anticipation of the pain, but none was received. Instead, upon opening her eyes, she saw Raki, a huge lance sticking out of his gut.
"You're a brave one, boy." Raki smirked at Isley's comment.
"Everyone is brave when protecting someone they love!" Raki retorted, but his determination was replaced with shock when he coughed up blood when Isley twirled the lance around in his gut, and drove it in deeper.
"Ahhh!" Raki howled in pain, before destroying that half-dead Awakened Being.
"RAKI!!!" Clare howled. She didn't deserve to live. She had let him down. She broke their promise, she forgot about him so many times, but she was always in his mind.
Maybe that is love, always thinking about that someone, always helping that someone. Always trying to find ways to comfort, to save someone, this may be love.
A huge voice echoed in the air, "I love you, Clare, forever, and ever."
A/N: Review please, hoped you all liked it!