Disclaimer: Weiss Kruez isn't mine. I don't have enough talent to come up with something like it.
Author: Kitai
Author's notes: I honestly don't know where this came from. All I know is I was sitting on the loo one afternoon and I wondered what goes through the minds of assassins after they kill someone and e voila.
Questions
Fujimiya Ran stared down at the bloodied corpse at his feet. The same crimson fluid was splattered on the grass. On his katana. His clothes. His hands. He had just killed…how many was it? His one hundredth target? More? Ran looked disdainfully down at himself. This man had bled more than most as the red-haired assassin had dragged him into a field of long grass where he would not be discovered for a while. He was covered in the sticky mess.
Aya was used to it. It had been hard, strange even, at first to take another's life. But now, all he felt was cold emptiness. It's all he ever felt most of the time. Especially when he was killing. And for the first time, the feeling…disturbed him. Why was he so cold? Why did he kill?
At first the answer had seemed simple: Takatori Reiji had run over his sister, Aya-chan. In order to pay her hospital bills, Ran had been forced into the life of an assassin. But was that true? Couldn't he have taken another job? Couldn't he have worked hard at that? Wouldn't that have gotten him the money for the bills?
Yes. He could have.
So then why? Why was he sitting, alone, in a field, covered with someone else's blood? Blood that was spilt by his own hands? Why was he a cold-hearted killer? Why?
If not for money, was it revenge? Takatori had almost killed his sister, leaving her in a deep coma. Chances were she wouldn't wake up. Doctors didn't hold out much hope. Is that why he killed? To hone the ability so he would be able to quick and easily kill Takatori when the time came?
But – again with the word – couldn't he practice on non-living things? Crash test dummies? Old furniture, maybe? Couldn't he hone his fighting abilities that way? Then he wouldn't have to kill others, would he?
/The truth is,/ Ran thought as he stood up and wiped his blade clean on the dead man's clothing, /is that I love it. I love to kill./
Fujimiya Ran walked away on that thought. Away from the body and into the shadows.
Author: Kitai
Author's notes: I honestly don't know where this came from. All I know is I was sitting on the loo one afternoon and I wondered what goes through the minds of assassins after they kill someone and e voila.
Questions
Fujimiya Ran stared down at the bloodied corpse at his feet. The same crimson fluid was splattered on the grass. On his katana. His clothes. His hands. He had just killed…how many was it? His one hundredth target? More? Ran looked disdainfully down at himself. This man had bled more than most as the red-haired assassin had dragged him into a field of long grass where he would not be discovered for a while. He was covered in the sticky mess.
Aya was used to it. It had been hard, strange even, at first to take another's life. But now, all he felt was cold emptiness. It's all he ever felt most of the time. Especially when he was killing. And for the first time, the feeling…disturbed him. Why was he so cold? Why did he kill?
At first the answer had seemed simple: Takatori Reiji had run over his sister, Aya-chan. In order to pay her hospital bills, Ran had been forced into the life of an assassin. But was that true? Couldn't he have taken another job? Couldn't he have worked hard at that? Wouldn't that have gotten him the money for the bills?
Yes. He could have.
So then why? Why was he sitting, alone, in a field, covered with someone else's blood? Blood that was spilt by his own hands? Why was he a cold-hearted killer? Why?
If not for money, was it revenge? Takatori had almost killed his sister, leaving her in a deep coma. Chances were she wouldn't wake up. Doctors didn't hold out much hope. Is that why he killed? To hone the ability so he would be able to quick and easily kill Takatori when the time came?
But – again with the word – couldn't he practice on non-living things? Crash test dummies? Old furniture, maybe? Couldn't he hone his fighting abilities that way? Then he wouldn't have to kill others, would he?
/The truth is,/ Ran thought as he stood up and wiped his blade clean on the dead man's clothing, /is that I love it. I love to kill./
Fujimiya Ran walked away on that thought. Away from the body and into the shadows.