Prompt from Candy-of-Doom: Zoro/Kitetsu swordporn. Zoro suddenly stops sensing Kitetsu's spirit. He runs to his sword and pulls it out of the ground only to see that it is what it appears to be – dead. Just a cold soulless sword.
Kitetsu's emotions were tearing him apart. He could feel unrestrained anger and rage warping his o
utside while sadness and an overwhelming sense of loneliness sliced away at his innards.
It was painful to have such aching emotions tearing at him; he wanted to scream, cry, and kill. There was no amount of blood that could satisfy the emptiness that was left with in him, but the feel of ending a life could at least allow him to redirect just a small portion of his pain, if only for a moment.
He needed to escape. The madness and the pain of his warring emotions were more than enough to kill him, to shred him into nothingness. He needed to get away from himself; to fold away his consciousness in order to preserve his life. His emotions, his feelings for Zoro, they were quickly drawing and end to him.
But he couldn't die, he couldn't, he couldn't…he couldn't…he….couldn't….
It was suddenly peaceful and too quiet in the woods, and Zoro bolted upright, eyes scanning his surroundings in an attempt to pick out his enemy. Things remained quiet though, save for the distant bird song and the occasional brush of leaves as a gentle breeze danced through them.
Nothing seemed out of place, and the feeling of pursuit with the intent to kill was blissfully missing from the area. With a relieved sigh, Zoro relaxed once more, easing away the tension left by the adrenaline in his system.
Still, even though he'd determined there was no danger in the immediate area something felt off. It was almost too peaceful…
Zoro's eyes shot to Kitetsu. Still lodged into the ground, nothing about the sword had changed. On the surface anyway. Zoro was used to the ever present aura of the sword; a violent sort of blood lust with a hint of mischief that was ever present, even on a peaceful and quiet day.
That aura was currently missing.
It had been strong enough to hurt before, and now it was missing entirely. Zoro tried to concentrate, fighting off the rising concern that was quickly giving way to panic. He focused, trying to feel out Kitetsu's aura from the blade…
Nothing.
Zoro was in motion before he could think, yanking the sword from the ground in one jerk. It came easily, almost too easily, only the weight of the sword giving any resistance at all.
Zoro held Kitetsu before him in a steady grip, both hands bracing the hilt firmly. He closed his eyes, centering his focus on the blade in his hand, trying to feel the spirit inside of it.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
The thing in his hand was no more alive than a shinai, or a dulled practice blade. The being within it, the life within it, was gone. In his panic, Zoro swung the blade, slicing easily through the trunk of a small tree. The blade cut clean, but the usual thrill of attack Zoro could feel when he moved with Kitetsu was conspicuously absent.
Kitetsu was gone.
Zoro stared at the blade, admiring it's edge and the pattern of the hamon, as the overwhelming feeling of loss welled up and spilled over inside of him. It sank into his gut with a crushing weight and caused a powerful ache in his chest.
Zoro dragged his fingers down the smooth side of the blade, feeling the cool metal but missing the sense of desire he could always feel from the sword. A desire for Zoro's blood; even if it was only the smallest quantity, Kitetsu wanted it from Zoro.
And now nothing.
There was another sharp pang of pain in Zoro's chest as he slid Kitetsu's blade back into it's saya. What happened to Kitetsu's soul, Zoro had no idea. There was only one question that ran through Zoro's mind at the moment.
What have I done?
