Hi, everyone. Hope you're enjoying the story, following along with an oblivious human and a yandere-ish faunus. I know I am. Anyway, thank you for reading, and please, please, generate some blacksun fanfiction for me to read…if you don't mind.
Aracion's POV
Grimm were everywhere, so I wasn't surprised when I rounded a corner, only to come upon a quartet of ursa. I mean, what was the point of cleaning the grimm out of a city if there weren't any?
I stopped so suddenly that Troy slammed into my back. "Watch it!"
"Sorry." He tried to peer over my shoulder as I aimed Fayodale for my throw. I had one chance to catch the ursai on their unawares. It would be best if we could get this over as safely as possible.
I stepped around the corner, and Fayodale spun from my hands, and my breath caught in my throat as the dark grey disk flew toward the ursai. Of course, it was quick enough that the grimm hardly registered my presence before Fayodale gutted one of them, and clipped another's side.
Clipped. I gritted my teeth. A graze wasn't enough to bring a grimm down. And, besides that, it caught sight of me. Predictably. Despite what I'd experienced, the six red eyes that fixed themselves on me sent chills down my spine. I reeled Fayodale in, and my fingers probed the metal until I found what I was looking for. A tiny dial. Quickly, I spun it, and in my hands, Fayodale morphed seamlessly into a broadsword. It never got old, switching my weapon's form.
The ursai snarled, stepping forward defensively. What I didn't understand about ursai was that they tended to be more tentative. Regardless, they were grimm, and grimm died. So, I did what I always did to grimm-I ran straight toward them. I'd dispatch them quickly. No need to get Troy involved. Sure, his Spanish Ticklers were badass and he was an excellent warrior, but…
Oh. I was too busy mentally monologuing to remember how I killed the ursai, and they tumbled to the ground, already dissipating. I-along with most of my comrades-was experienced enough to commit the terrible sin of loss of awareness. It was foolish, but it just…happened. It was like, 'ho-hum, I'm going to eat this hamburger,' and then, BOOM! 'Oh, crap, I just killed a couple bitches.'
Okay, maybe not quite like that, but along those lines.
"Nice." Troy acknowledged, nodding toward the partially-disintegrated corpses.
"Thanks." I flicked my hand toward the empty street. "Come on."
. . .
Even as we eradicated grimm, Troy and I still saw our fair share of people-people who weren't students. They flitted through the shadows like moths, silent and inconspicuous. Though Troy assured me they weren't going to harm us when I voiced my concerns, I still tracked them mentally until they were out of sight.
Now, I scrambled up the side of a building, the thick soles of my boots slipping on the cinderblocks as I pulled myself up onto the roof, digging my fingers into the faded green shingles as I did so. The sun-thank God for the sun-had warmed the textured layering, and I straddled the peak of the building, which looked like some sort of department store. Troy climbed up after me, heaving himself onto the roof, too.
"I'm so glad we decided to stop for a lunch break today." He confessed, pulling a slightly-smashed sandwich out of his pocket, along with a handful of Skittles.
"Yeah. I'm hungry, too." I agreed, digging in the huge pockets of my coat and withdrawing a peanut-butter sandwich and an apple. Just so this is clear, apple jokes at this moment are to be considered racist.
I gulped my sandwich down like a starving animal, and the fruit followed it. I had a tendency to inhale my food, and now, I leaned against the chimney and, in the creepiest way possible, watched Troy eat.
"Wha're yooing?" He mumbled through a mouthful of food, crumbs flying everywhere.
"Waiting for you to finish." I tossed out flippantly, examining the ends of my hair.
"Right." Within seconds, Troy had polished off the remainders of his food, and we both stood. "Come on." With that, he began to slide carefully down the roof while I-flaunting my faunus abilities-leaped down the slope of the roof and caught the gutter with one hand, sliding down until the bottoms of my boots thudded against the evenly-layered stones that made up the road. Once Troy reached me, we struck out at a quick walk down the streets. As we did so, my eyes scanned the grimy windows of the buildings around us, which were, unsurprisingly, still standing. After all, they were designed to withstand the elements. Though a fair amount of windows were smashed, a surprising amount were intact. I frowned. If we were, by chance, being stalked by a sniper, the glare of those windows could be used as an asset to them.
Now you're just being paranoid. I thought internally. Or not.
"Er, Aracion?" I followed the arc of Troy's finger to a vermilion splotch near the door of one of the apartment buildings that framed the main street.
"Oh, for God's sake." I snarled. This was getting way too disgustingly cliche. I stomped over to said stain, and hoping Troy wouldn't see, I leaned forward and gave it a deep sniff, wrinkling my nose when the telltale metallic scent of blood graced my senses.
"What is it, do you think?" Troy came to stand beside me, and I gave him a look.
"It's blood."
"How do you know?"
"Trust me." He complied nearly immediately, and I smiled. "I wonder where it comes-oh." A quick scan of the area revealed smaller stains spotting the wall ahead of us.
"Come on, somebody might need our help." Troy began following the prints, but I balked.
"Wait." I grabbed his sleeve.
"What?" His eyes were bewildered.
"What if it's a trap?" I lowered my voice.
"But…somebody could be hurt. It's our duty to help them."
"It could be a ruse."
"It might not be. Regardless, I'm going. You don't have to come." Troy pulled his arm from my grasp.
"Stubborn idiot." I muttered, but followed him. After all, I was adept in combat, and I could think on my feet. If I was right, numbers would help our odds.
My name is Aracion Argentum, and I'm invincible.
. . .
Aracion's POV
What made me especially nervous was when Troy and I were bottle-necked into an apartment. The heavy wooden door swung open on its hinges, the panels streaked with bloody handprints. My footsteps were silent, and I swung my horse ears like satellites, searching for any sound that wasn't attributed to Troy or myself. When we stepped through the threshold, I was taken aback by the dimness in this specific apartment-which was tidy and nearly immaculate, with chocolate-toned furniture and white walls and carpet-despite the lamps that sat in every corner.
"If somebody were hurt…why would they try to make their way up here?" I wondered aloud to Troy. He paused from where he was, peering over the marble counter, his elbow in the kitchen sink.
"Maybe they live here." He spoke to me as if I were a child. It was true, I was younger, for he was seventeen-almost eighteen-and I had turned sixteen four months ago. But I was indignant at his condescending tone.
"I don't think so." I contradicted him, taking a deep whiff of the air around me. Other than the metallic tang of blood and the stench of rotting cheese and meat-which must have come from the refrigerator-I smelled only dust and a lingering scent of laundry detergent. "It hasn't been lived in for a week or more, I'd wager."
"How do you know?" He was getting impatient and frustrated with me, and I flattened my ears, arching my eyebrows.
"I can sense things you can't. Do you think I've been wrong yet?" At his pause, a half-smile walked up half my face. "I didn't think so."
"Okay, all-telling one, how do you think they got here?" Okay, that stung. He didn't trust me enough to believe me? At least I had an answer for him.
"I would think one of three ways." I gestured to the location of the bloodstains, which were about hip-height. "Either the producer of those was in pursuit of something-or being pursued-or they were dragged here. If they were bleeding this much, they were injured in a vital area, and they should have been crawling or staggering if they were free. If they were dragged, they may have struggled, leaving these results. There were also stains on the floor and on the ground outside that supported the latter idea." I reasoned.
"That's…ridiculous. How you can use logic to hypothesize about that, it's fucking amazing." Troy ran a hand through his red-tipped hair, and I ducked my head, blushing slightly. I wasn't used to such compliments, much less from my partner, despite his acknowledgements of my accomplishments.
"We should get back on task." I regained my grasp on my composure, my eyes tracing the streaks of brown on the floor. I shut my eyes, draining my own aura until behind me, my shadow exploded into reality, standing onto her own two feet at my heels.
"You never told me you could do that!" Troy squeaked. It was true, we hadn't thought to share our semblances with each other.
"Shush." Together, my shadow and I slunk forward, and I skulked to the bathroom door, which was partially open, revealing a heavily-shadowed interior. The faint light filtering through the narrow windows glinted off the mirror, and I carefully pushed my way through the door, pausing when the toe of my boot hit something solid. Surprised, my concentration waned, and my shadow-previously three-dimensional-sank back to the floor, again useless. My brain wasn't processing what I saw.
A blue-haired girl sprawled on her side, a deep stab wound leaking blood from her side. Her cream-colored jacket displayed a dove in mid flight, and her blue eyes were open and glassy.
"Marie." The word slipped from my lips. Marie had been one of my classmates. And now she was dead. I sighed. It was such a pity, seeing noble lives like hers destroyed.
"What is it?" Troy approached me, and I turned around, squaring my shoulders.
"Marie Azure." I answered.
"What?" Troy's face crumpled, and a pang went through my chest. That was how despicably selfish I was. "Is she…?"
Ugh, I hated it when people would trail off like that, as if finishing the sentence was a sin. "Dead. Yes, she's dead. Stabbed in the side. She bled out." I gritted my teeth and kept my voice emotionless.
"Well, what was she stabbed with?" Troy demanded, falling into step behind me as I walked away from the body, out of the bathroom, and toward the door.
"I don't know! A knife, a sword, I don't know!" I snapped. "Simple logic can't solve every mystery."
"How can you be so insensitive?" Troy retaliated, and I recoiled, stricken.
"B-because we have to be! Both of us! We can't afford to be hindered by emotions, not when we're constantly in danger." I blundered through the words carelessly.
"One of our schoolmates just died."
"People die all of the time!"
"And you don't care?"
"It's not something I can dictate! My-our-career doesn't care about life. It's based on killing!" I was spiralling out of control, my voice was rocketing in pitch. But he has a point. Marie's death affected me for mere seconds.
"We're supposed to save lives." Troy growled, his blue eyes flashing as he turned toward me.
A pain exploded in my back as Troy slammed me against a hallway wall, his hands digging into my shoulders. "We aren't supposed to be murderers."
"Ouch! You're hurting me." I whimpered, struggling against him, my ears flat against my head with ire and a touch of fear.
"You've killed." He didn't soften, and I wriggled futilely.
"This is a cruel world, Troy!" My insides seemed to harden, and my emotions froze, as if they had been blocked by metal. "The laws are kill or be killed!"
"No." Troy's hot breath washed over my face, and I scowled, writhing against the hands that pinned me to the wall. "No, they're not."
"Oh, if you're so smart, why don't you tell me?" I leaned forward so Troy and I were nearly nose-to-nose, despite the significant height difference.
"There's more to life than survival, Aracion." His hands softened against my shoulders, although he didn't release me. I smiled wryly.
"Of course there is. There's death." I let out a short, bitter laugh.
A flash of red caught my eye as I looked over Troy's shoulder. Of course. Grimm. The very dreariness that Reyna's death brought and my own personal issues tended to attract the beasts. If Troy's hurt, it's your fault.
"Move." I ordered, reaching for Fayodale. "Move!" I fumbled with the cord that was looped around my waist. I elbowed Troy out of the way, Fayodale lengthening into a broadsword as I did so, pushing between him and a boarbatusk. It wasn't common grimm appeared in buildings, but the piggy grimm apparently didn't care. Despite the close quarters, it balled itself up seamlessly. "Go, damn it, go!" I shoved Troy-my partner, my friend-down the hall. "I'll be along in a moment."
The boarbatusk's hard carapace scraped the wooden floor as it began to spin before it spurted toward me like a cork off a bottle. I stood my ground, my heart still in my chest. I was selfish; terribly, despicably so. That was why I couldn't stand it if my only friend died, that was why I put my life on the line to protect the only person I cared about.
As the boarbatusk spun past me, I made a jab with my sword, catching the middle of it's twist. A lucky hit.
The creature unrolled, infuriated. Its cloven front hoof dug grooves in the floor as it dragged its appendage through the aged wood. It was angry enough to abandon any defensive strategies, and it would try anything if the result was having gored me on its tusks. This made it even more dangerous.
The worst part? I had virtually nowhere to run. You've screwed yourself.
I'd take its tusks off. That would take away its greatest weapon. Focusing my aura upon the darkness in the corners, anywhere shadows were heavy, I pulled the wisps of darkness across the floor. If I exhausted my aura using my semblance to rip off the boarbatusk's tusks, fine. I could use what little power I had left to eradicate the damn monster.
I bent the shadows into thick ropes, and they wrapped around the tusks of the charging grimm, pulling at the white spears. A loud crack echoed, and the grimm's head jerked to one side as the shadows snaked away, dropping the heavy tusk to the ground. However, my aura was draining away with a swiftness that was concerning. As for my shadows? I had invested in the other ones removing the other tusk, and these had merely existed, not applying any force. There wasn't time for me to dredge up a miracle.
"Aracion!" My head turned against my will when he called. Oh, Lord, what if he was being attacked? I couldn't be two places at once, no matter how hard I tried.
The sound of tearing flesh made my eyes widen, and the pain that exploded in my torso nearly knocked me off my feet. A loud ringing filled my ears, and my back arched with sheer agony. I could feel my ribs shattering, I could feel the skin that covered the bottom of my ribcage distorting and ripping. My distraction had caused me to be gored by a freaking pig. For some reason, this made me want to laugh.
I'm not as invincible as I thought.