word count: 670
summary: This new arm feels like the skin's been ripped away, exposing all the nerves there. It's too damn much."I've just realized... we can die any day." post-Millefiore
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She laughs and throws another sealed box at him. He catches it, his aim better this time.
"What to throw next?.." Nagi says looking at him, like a challenge.
"Whatever you won't miss later on", he replies.
They're in her room, running tests on Squalo's newly installed prosthetic arm. So far his movements are precise enough – for everyday use, at least. As for battle…
She lunges at him, going for solar plexus. Trying to knock the breath out of him. Try me, brat, even with all your combat training you're still weaker in hand-to-hand. Attack, block, kick, counter, he captures her hand. The feeling of her skin too vivid on those unfamiliar sensors, squeezing too hard; that's unintentional. She grimaces, massaging her wrist.
"Fuck."
"It's nothing", Nagi waves quickly, not lifting her eyes at him. "You're working on your control for that."
"Is it broken?" he holds out his hand to her. She scoffs at him.
"Of course not. I am Varia officer, not some doll. Or did you confuse me with some woman of yours?" she adds, smirking. That Rokudou bastard's sense of humor must be contagious – she didn't pull jabs like that when she appeared in Varia. Or, Squalo thinks with a bit of morbid pride, it is Varia rubbing off her.
"If you're feeling guilty, just be silent, commander." Nagi says, taking his artificial hand and pulling the glove off. The sensation, feeling anything with the limb he's lost almost two decades ago, in some other life… It's blazing sharp, too damn much. He wants to jerk back but stops at the last moment—
Nagi slides her fingers over the surface, probes the joints of composite metal. Squalo growls, when she touches the scar, junction fusing his own fair skin with fake material. False skin covering his artificial arm, filled with fucking sensory devices instead of nerve endings.
Almost solemn, both of them. So suddenly.
"I didn't really believe they could lose", she says with a hint of anger in her voice.
"Those were just kids", he scoffs. "Not real Vongola."
"This won't happen again", she kisses the knuckles of his hand. Left arm, fake arm. "I swear."
Squalo laughs. Loud, harsh, bitter like a broken record.
"I don't need that shit", he tells Nagi, yanking her closer so that they stand half a breath away from each other. "I don't want your damn promises."
Time to end this farce. It feels like he's never really known her. Shit. Holy fucking shit.
"My life is my own", she murmurs almost to herself. "You have my loyalty. What is it that you want?"
Like hell Squalo will ever say that.
"Bastard", Nagi exhales, sending a jab to his ribs.
And starts laughing.
She lies with nose buried in pillow, arms spread over the sheets. He's known that before, they've always take turns to rest during missions. There's no need for that now, they're home, but Squalo lies awake, watching.
He's here.
They are still in her room.
What now? What he wanted is in his hands. Woman he's been watching for four years of the six they've known each other. Brat nearly a decade his junior. Prodigious killer and pretty girl in one person. He never thought he could…
"What is it?" Nagi wakes up abruptly but doesn't open her eyes, doesn't see his expression.
"What – 'it'?" Squalo responds irritably. "I'm fine."
Silence. Nagi sits up in bed slowly; eyes shimmering, not really seeing – her gaze is fixed somewhere through him, inside, like she hopes to get her answers there.
"You know," she says slowly, thoughtfully, "I was prepared to bury you. I didn't really believe you could get yourself killed there, but I was ready. We won this time, but we can die any day; I've just realized that."
"You get that only now?" Squalo snickers. "I've been telling you since God knows when – we're assassins. There's no time to waste for us."
"Yeah", she says settling down, closer, face to his shoulder. "No time at all."
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I think, that's finale. The conclusion, what's after is not really interesting. Circling around each other is come to an end, what else to write?..