The sensation of falling, the feeling of helplessly tearing through the atmosphere.
He hated the feeling of falling in his dreams, looking into the empty black expanse.
The sudden awareness that hits you upon jerking awake.
...but he wasn't waking up. No matter how he willed himself to jolt back into reality, he just kept falling.
Down
and,
down
and,
down.
He was certain that he could feel his stomach where his heart should be.
The whirling of engines stalling, like a ship spiraling to ground, rang in his ears. The sound traveled through him, shaking his heart which already seemed to beat unsteadily.
He hated the feeling of falling in his dreams...
Kyuzo opened his eyes slowly, though quickly shut them as pain pulsed through his retinas at the sudden invasion of light. After a moment, he tried again- prying open a lid to peak out at the world.
Water.
Kyuzo blinked at the liquid which was stained a light tea color by pollutants. Upon further examination, he discovered there was a deep redness to the fluid as well. He watched delicate lines as they swam through the muck like smoke. A few minutes passed like that, just watching the puddle become consumed by that rich red, before he decided that perhaps there were other things to look at.
He attempted to shift his gaze, though found his head far too heavy to lift. That was irritating.
He let out a small huff which picked up a few dust particles near his face, sweeping them into the air. His eyes followed the little cloud upward until his eyes met the sharp and angular metal structure above him. If it could even be called a structure at that point. It was a sheet of thick metal, held up by another sheet on his left and a beam on his right. It looked almost like a tent, though this tent could easily kill him should that beam give way.
Having identified the risk, Kyuzo decided it would be best to move out from under the death trap. However, that idea sparked a thought that hadn't occurred to him before. How had he ended up here? He looked back to the puddle as though it had some magical ability to grant him the answer. At this point, the water went from being opaque to nearly solid crimson. Kyuzo followed the little red trails from the water, across the patch of dirt separating him from pool all the way to… himself?
His brow furrowed as another question formed.
'Am I bleeding?'
Kyuzo again tried to shift, pulling his head back so that he was no longer laying on his stomach, but rather on his side. It required quite a bit of effort for such a simple change in position, not to mention that it nearly caused him to throw up. Through shallow but fast breaths, he managed to look down at his body. He almost laughed, but pain in combination with confusion prevented such an action.
'How curious… I'm full of holes.'
It began to slowly come back the longer he stared at those holes in his chest.
The war.
The fight.
Katsushiro's gun.
Sudden pain.
Kambei's arms.
Insurmountable fatigue.
Falling.
Kyuzo's gaze darkened at the memories. Not necessarily out of hate, but out of the realization that no one was likely to find him out here… that he was likely to bleed out and die a second time. There was no way he was moving, but the only way he was going to live was if he moved.
A little huff again escaped him. There was no use trying to will himself to move when he physically could not do so. So he laid there… and he let his mind drift.
He wondered how the war had ended. Surely the Farmers had won, judging by the sheer amount of wreckage that he could only assume was once the capital. But who made it? Had Kambei, Katsushiro, Heihachi, Kikuchiyo, and Shichiroji survived? If so, where were they now? In Kanna? Seemed most obvious. Well, aside from Shichiroji given Yuikino was still likely waiting for him in the Village of Respite. He wondered if the two of them would get married. Speaking of marriage, what of Katsushiro's crush on the water priestess? Could a mikumari even marry? He was pretty sure that was against the rules, but what the hell did he know about rock toting water whisperers?
He felt chill before he realized that the sun was going down. He frowned, this was an entirely new problem that he hadn't even thought of. Here he was laying in a pool of his semi liquid blood in a sticky, bullet ridden coat under a metal heap with the sun – the one source of heat he had- settling in for the night.
He desperately wish he had a fire like the one they had the night before attacking the capital. That was a pleasant night…
Clear view of the stars, a warm cup of tea, a kind of uncertainty yet an intense feeling of determination. He recalled the feeling of the warm flames at his back while Shichiroji and Kambei discussed loose battle strategy. But then there was the lacking of Kambei's spirit. He spoke with a tone of a dead man, so different from their first battle. It truly seemed that the man had given up the idea of living.
Again, Kyuzo felt cold.
He was shaking now, body lightly tensing and slacking as tremors ran through him. He felt his fingers go numb shortly after pulsing with pain. Then his feet fell victim as well. Cold creeping in from both ends of his body. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something else, anything to keep his mind off the pain and discomfort of his predicament.
There had been discomfort in being shot too. Maybe not as bad as he felt now, given that he was still suffering gunshot wounds no longer dulled by adrenaline and soon to be worsened by hypothermia, but it was discomfort all the same. Most of the whole taking an entire clip of bullets to the torso thing had been a blur to him, yet he did remember Kambei catching him before he hit the ground. That was nice. The masked urgency in Kambei's voice was also somewhat heartening in his mind. The idea that Kambei actually wanted him to live despite the fact that Kyuzo constantly reminded the other that one day he would kill him.
He wondered if Kambei really did want to die and was simply too afraid to do it himself. Perhaps it was for that reason he wanted Kyuzo to fight him but only after fighting a presumably unwinnable war. Perhaps that was the reason he wanted the fight the Benigumo alone and became upset when Kyuzo had tried to aid him. Perhaps that was the reason why he went to the capital alone to free the women. Because he wanted death but would not claim it for himself.
Something about that idea pissed Kyuzo off to no end. If he made it back alive after all of this, he would be sure to let Kambei have a piece of his mind on the matter.
He felt a warmth across his cheek. Kyuzo blinked and too his surprise, he felt another tear roll away from his eyes.
'am I…crying?'
This was almost more shocking than discovering that he had been bleeding out into a puddle for most of the day. He never cried. Well, he did cry, but not at something like this and certainly not within the last decade or so. Kyuzo furrowed his brow, all of that was beside the point. He was angry. Angry at Kambei for being reckless with his own life. Here he was, steeping in his own blood – fighting to stay alive! And Kambei has the nerve to willingly put his head on the emperor's chopping block?! He felt more tears falling over the bridge of his nose and drop into the dirt. He was angry… and cold… and in pain… scared… and alone.
Hell… He may never get the chance to tell Kambei how irritating he is.
He may never see Kambei again.
With that thought, he let the steady flow of tears put him to sleep… Not knowing if he would ever wake up.