Flawed Existence

By Naito Tenshi

Author's Notes:

It has been a rule of mine for some time that I do not write yaoi. Um… oh well. Guess that's gone. ^_^;;

I give credit to Hannah and Jess for bits of this… Hannah, too, thinks this is an excellent Legato song, and plans to be doing an AMV to it, which I shall worship and you all should, too. I also put a little bit in here that was based on a scene Jess wrote with Legato in a roleplay I'm in… that's all.

When does this occur, you ask? Well, I'm figuring it's probably towards the end of the series; Knives doesn't do much before then seeing as he's stuck in a tube and all…

So, I'm figuring this could be happening simultaneously with episode 23, right before Legato goes off to make Chapel… I can't even say it… I cry every time I watch that episode!! But, you know what he makes Chapel do… don't make me say it!

Andway, sit back and, um… enjoy? -_-;;

…I don't write yaoi. Well, I didn't write yaoi.

He was released. He was released from his healing tube. Legato awaited his Master as he knew he must; no order had been given, but no word needed to be spoken on the matter. Knives entered the darkened chamber, his hair fixed, his white and red attire donned. Legato fell to a knee as soon as the door opened and Knives stepped into the room.

You let me violate you

Knives approached the slave silently. His head was bowed, his eyes in their perpetual position locked onto the floor. With a sneer, Knives kicked the man in the stomach. He took the blow nicely; he always did. Sick satisfaction spread across Knives' face as the man slumped backward, his eyes still not rising to meet his Master's face.

You let me desecrate you

Slowly, Knives knelt down, his hand grabbing the man by the neck, fingers closing tightly about the windpipe. Legato gasped for air, and for a moment, as the fist clenched over his precious air supply, his eyes did lock with Knives', then immediately pulled back, locking firmly onto his boots.

You let me penetrate you

Arm still on Legato's neck, Knives dragged the man to his feet and then a few inches beyond. With a malicious smirk, he pulled Legato's face to his own and engaged him in a kiss, tongue viciously lashing out at the man's mouth. Legato went limp at the kiss, any struggle for air set aside as the distraction arose.

You let me complicate you

Suddenly, Knives withdrew from the kiss, roughly throwing the man to the floor, glowering down at him. He put a boot on the man's chest and knelt to reach his face, close enough to lash out with another malevolent kiss, but he did not. Instead, he sneered at the man and spoke coldly,

"Human. Why has your mission not yet met success?"

Help me… I broke apart my insides

Legato visibly fought the cringe that arose from the boot on his ribs, the soft crack that sounded as it shifted under his master's weight forcing the cringe into the open. Knives, of course, gave a satisfied grin. Legato slowly choked forth,

"Master... I have done all that I can… the Gung-Ho Guns… they have failed."

Help me… I've got no soul to sell

Knives scoffed at Legato, stepping away and turning his back on the minion.

"Your efforts are wasted. You have approached your task the entirely wrong way."

Legato forced himself up with his elbows, those empty golden eyes staring at his Master's back. He questioned,

"Master?"

Help me… the only thing that works for me

"Your mission?"

"To cause Vash the Stampede eternal suffering."

"And you have attacked him directly, physically. Fool. What rule does my brother embrace so fervently, spider?"

"…he will not kill."

Understanding rang in the man's voice as he spoke those words. Knives gave only a firm nod and was gone.

Help me get away from myself

Legato was left there in the dark, alone. He dragged his injured self to a wall where he leaned against it. As he so often did, he pulled back his sleeve from his left arm, those amber depths locking onto the veins that pulsed beneath it with such power. His eyes narrowed at the limb, other hand reaching for something in his pocket.


I want to fuck you like an animal

The blue-haired man pulled something from his pocket, glistening dully in the dim light. Though difficult to make out shapes in the poorly illuminated space, its metallic surface reflected what little luminance it could and the object was clear; a blade. He pressed it slowly onto the flesh of the left arm, the side of the blade pushing against the skin as a vein throbbed in protest beneath it, though to his eyes it seemed to do so invitingly, temptingly. Abruptly, he turned the blade, and dug the sharp end into the skin, dragging it across the arm slowly, smirking with grim satisfaction as the blood poured forth.

I want to feel you from the inside

'Do you feel this, Vash the Stampede?'

He brought the blade back up and thrust it into the opening he had produced, letting out a cry of agony as he did so.

'Are you sitting, somewhere, your vermin at your side, feeling an elusive phantom twinge of pain in that arm of yours, forged of cold steel and infidelity?'

Deeper he digs the blade, ripping through muscle and tendon, the vicious wound pouring forth scarlet tears.

'Yes… this is my pain. This is your pain. Our pain, Vash the Stampede, and you are the cause of both our suffering.'

I want to fuck you like an animal

The blade was drawn back from the wound, the collecting pool of blood on the ground spreading slowly, the once flawless white coat stained, the red slowly fading to deep brown, near black. The thoughts of Vash faded slightly; Knives… his Master… concerned only with his brother.

'You fool… you cannot see how much He cares… He wishes to protect you both, yet you push Him away…

'And here I lay, your broken and beaten shadow, a crude replacement, a vague mockery of what a sentient being should be.

'And all of it is thanks to you, Vash the Stampede.'

My whole existence is flawed

'I offer myself so freely to the Master… my mind, my soul, my being… I will give myself for His cause, yet I am still not good enough. I am still only human, still inferior. I cannot redeem myself in His eyes, and rightly so. Even the highest tier of humanity is a far cry from being equal to Him… to you.'

You get me closer to god

'Master… not only my Master, but Master of all humanity. We should all bow before Him as I do; His greatness is beyond our grasp, beyond our comprehension… He is infallible, as perfect as a being can be, a deity walking among mortals.'


You can have my isolation

Legato's thoughts became less articulated words, and more vague ideas. He did not fit with the rest of humanity anymore; he had been enlightened. Knives had taught him well. He was not ignorant, as they were. He no longer desired a place among them, for they knew not of their own impending destruction, of those who would bring it to them. They were disgusting… arrogant, self-important, deluded beings. They wrongly thought themselves superior, and by doing so, ensured that they were the lowest of all life.

'I know my place…'

You can have the hate that it brings

'I know my place as others do not; as the humans do not, as the loathsome brother does not. He seeks to be one amongst them; he would be the butterfly who would clip his own wings. Indeed, one of those precious wings, those magnificent spreads who would take one on a flight of purging destruction was already severed.'

And here it lay, before him, bleeding and pulsing erratically with pain.

You can have my absence of faith

His stare returned to the limb. Silently, he brought forth a cloth from his coat pocket and wrapped the wound. The blood must be saved to be spilt, the pain stored up for release at the hand of that naïve fool.

A grin found its way onto his face.

Release…

You can have my everything

 

Freedom, both for and from the Master's purpose… its glorious blessing was something Legato had thought of for some time now. And with his mortal soul in tow, so eagerly tainted with blood spilt in the master's name, the fibers of his being as frayed as if slashed by knives, he would speed forth to the blackened gates of hell and find it a release from this existence, no doubt. He slowly rose to his feet, his sleeve back down over the bandaged wound, and took his leave of the room.

Help me… you tear down my reason

As soon as he walked into the corridor, he felt those eyes, that presence pulling at his dark heart. He fell to a knee, his eyes on the ground once more, and sure enough, footsteps sounded slowly behind him, and coming around from his back, a pair of red boots came into his field of vision.

Help me… it's your sex I can smell

He felt a hand on the crown of his head; firm, possessive, somehow violent in its grasp though it caused no harm at the moment. Legato trembled under the touch, those gloved fingers pressed so roughly against the bone of his skull. He felt uncomfortably vulnerable at the same time he yearned for that hand to remain on his person, to move… to seek…

Help me… you make me perfect

And it did. The hand slowly dragged its way down his head, latching onto the back of his neck, pulling him up slowly, until his eyes, with a will not his own, locked with those ice blue orbs. He shuddered against his long-shattered will as the eyes narrowed, the hands finding their way down his form, digging into his lower back like claws. The grasp caused him to gasp with pain even through the layers of his coat and his shirt. He was pulled close to Knives, who pressed stinging lips against his own, the tongue attacking him once more, snaking into his being with its sharp whips.

Help me become somebody else

One of Knives' hands found its way to the limb that had once been at his brother's command, his grip now far gentler than it ever was when latched onto the human's original components. Unwittingly, he brushed the wound and Legato winced at the sensation of returning pain, though it was nothing compared to the way he felt his stomach turn at the realization he suffered once more, as he had over and over in his existence. He was ever the substitute, never good enough, never on his level.

The fool… he had shunned his brother so completely that it had made the Master mad with the obsession to regain his approval, to earn his trust once more, to have him at his side as he once was… even to go so far as to mold one of the humans into a crude mockery of him. But filth remained filth, regardless of the form it could be sculpted into, and Knives released Legato, who fell to the floor in a heap.


I want to fuck you like an animal

Legato allowed himself to slump on the floor, his breaths ragged and rapid, yearning to be held by those hands once more. But the hands had lost interest in him, the eyes now the only thing providing him contact, the disgust they purveyed to his form apparent without needing to look at them. His body shuddered once more, this time with the frustration building up inside him, unresolved desires wreaking their devastation on his all-too-human psyche.

I want to feel you from the inside

He closed his eyes as Knives turned away from him. No word was spoken; no word needed to be spoken. He had made his point clear, as he did so often. Legato belonged to him, his toy. Mind, soul, and body alike... and when he felt desire, he satisfied himself with his toy. But now he felt no desire, only the need to make ownership clear, and that he had done. The desires of the slave were of no concern to him.

I want to fuck you like an animal

Legato knew this all too well. So many times had he felt the basest of his instincts burning at his mind… yet, he sought no release from the humans he loathed so.

My whole existence is flawed

And seeking no release from humans left him with no other place to look… but of course the Master did not care for his frustrations. He was a lower form of life, and as such, his Master's lack of concern was justified. He did not deserve to have those needs released… yet, soon he would feel them no more. He would feel nothing any more, and that was a thought he embraced with his anticipation.

You get me closer to god

He opened his eyes once more, his glance locked onto the backs of his Master's boots. He let a soft groan escape his lips. His Master… he had made him what he was; brought him out of the ignorant mass of humanity and taught him well.


Through every forest, above the trees

The Master had helped him rise above that which he was born from, taught him where he belonged in the grand spectrum of life. He owed everything to his Master, and that was what he willingly gave.

Within my stomach, scraped off my knees

And he gave, of course, to receive nothing but suffering. It was what he deserved; he was human. He deserved the pain, the torment, the devaluing treatment he was given. It was his Master's wish, and as an inferior being, it was Legato's position to grant his Master's wishes.

I drink the honey inside your hive

He truly did owe -everything- to his master... who he was, his power, his strength; it was all given to him by the Master, to form him into this tool he was. A tool of destruction, of death, to descend upon the humans and teach them what he had been taught, and ultimately to return the butterfly that had gone astray, taking to the ways of the spider.

You are the reason I stay alive

And now that ultimate mission was upon him. The Master walked away, leaving him both physically and figuratively. His purpose was about to become fulfilled, his usefulness to his Master spent, and he would be disposed of in order to bring the fool into his rightful place. The Master was through with him, so his reason for living had become void.

He would die… to bring about the fruition of his Master's plans. To bring back to his Master the one he called his brother. To please his Master as much it was possible for any human to do so.

'If the concept of reincarnation is anything more than the vague dream it seems humans have come up with to soothe their foolish grieving at the inevitable moment of the death of a loved one… I would like to come back as a being like my Master, so that He might care for me as I do Him…'

And, ever Vash's shadow, he rose and silently walked off, leaving in solitude, striding silently towards the end of his flawed existence.

Closer - NIN