Disclaimer: Hmm… Just in case, I'm stating that I do not own the Trooper/ Ronin Universe®, though any characters/ villainous beings that don't exist in the show or OVA's are MINE!!! Use only with permission, SVP.
"Nooooooooo!"
He stood in shock, staring wide-eyed in horror as the figure before him sliced through the stomach of the last standing Warlord. He felt his tears burning down his cheeks and the thickly billowing smoke stung his eyes and filled his lungs, making him cough violently.
The dark figure laughed.
"What the matter, Wildfire? Scared?"
"H-how could you?" Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet hers. "What happened to make you this way?"
The figure shrugged and laughed again.
"Stop laughing! This isn't like you at all! Why are you doing this? You're not evil!"
Instantly, the mirth was gone from her face, replaced with a cold, hard expression. The long, bloodied blade of her katana whipped forward, pointed at his throat.
"You willing to bet your life on that?"
He tilted his chin up defiantly. The smoke was getting worse and he had to fight to keep from choking, but he couldn't falter now.
"I doubt I have much of a choice, now that I've spoken."
"What makes you think you're right? Why can't I be evil?"
"You're not a murderer."
"Of course not, you fool. I've killed them all in fair battle."
"And you're proud of that?!" he yelled. "You're not – "
"Shh," she mocked, pressing the point of her blade against his throat. "We don't want your friends to come break up this little party, do we?"
He swallowed, wincing as the point dug into his skin, piercing it. He felt the warm blood start trickling down his neck and down into his armor. His eyes stayed locked on her, though he could barely see now through all the smoke and tears.
"Frightened, little Wildfire? Afraid to die?"
"If it means I won't be able to save my friends, then yes."
"Don't worry. I have no intention of killing them right now. So unless they foolishly decide to interfere…"
"And will you kill me now?"
"Hmm…" She smirked, taking a step closer. She pulled her sword back just enough to remove it from his skin, and ran the flat side of the blade along his neck. It left a smear of cold, sticky blood; blood that wasn't his. "I'm not sure. Perhaps I'll just knock you unconscious and leave you to lie in the pool of your friends' blood." She motioned toward the limp bodies of the Warlords on the ground behind her.
"If you were evil, you wouldn't let me live."
"What, do you want me to kill you?" She glared at him.
"Would you?" He continued to meet her gaze calmly.
There was no answer. Without a word, she reached down and picked up his sword from where it lay on the ground.
"I'm very tired of this conversation." She threw his sword at him and he caught it, then looked at her confusedly. She brandished her katana.
"I don't want to fight you," he said quietly, lowering his katana. "I won't."
"That's your problem," she shrugged. "I've given you a chance to defend yourself." She charged and slashed; he barely dodged and fell onto his back. The tip of her katana found his shoulder and pinned him to the ground. He screamed. Laughing, she picked up his sword from the ground beside him and raised the blade above his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut.
"Ryo!" He heard his friends' yelling coming closer. There was the whine of an arrow and a cry of pain. His eyes flew open in time to see his assailant receive an arrow just below the neck. She fell to her knees and then flopped sideways across him.
"Nooooooooo!" Without thinking, he got up, not even noticing as the katana dug deeper. He scooped her up and pulled her close. "No…" He choked down a sob. "Please…Wake up…"
"Ryo!"
He didn't even hear his friends anymore. All he heard was the sound of her weakening heartbeat. All he smelled was heated steel and blood. All he tasted was the bitter, desperate grief of his salty tears. All he felt was the sting of his tears mingling with his blood on his neck and the frightening stillness of the armored form he clutched to himself. All he saw was her blood coating him. It ran over his hands and arms and smeared itself across his armor. He closed his eyes.
"Please," he whispered, "you can't go. You haven't killed me yet. See? If you're really evil, you have to get the good guys."
She was silent.
"Please? Don't leave…"
"You… are…really…stupid, you…know…that?"
His eyes flew open in surprise. Her hand was just inches from his chest plate, and in that hand she held a dagger.
"You must really…want…to die."
"I don't care," he choked. "I just don't want you to. You can't." He held her gaze. "I won't let you die here. Go ahead and stab me, if that's what it takes to keep you alive."
"You would die for an enemy?"
"I would for you."
His gaze still did not waver as he watched the look of shock spread across her face, or as it changed to anger and she plunged the blade through the armor, into his chest nearly to the hilt. He knew she was watching his reaction and did his best not to show any pain, despite the fact that he could feel the tip digging into his heart with every single beat.
"Ryo!"
He was vaguely aware that his friends were beside him now, yelling his name. They wrenched the knife from his chest, relieving the sharp pain. He watched distantly as ever more of his blood spilled out, falling on her armor. He felt their hands pulling him away from her and he reached out, trying to fight back. He knew he was yelling; he was pretty sure it was her name. But his mind was so unfocused, he couldn't be sure. He watched as her hand closed around the hilt of his sword, which was still lying on the ground where she dropped it. He smirked to himself, wishing she'd just hurry up and finish him off and let him escape all the pain…
"Look out!" Someone yelled. "She's got the sword!"
There was shouting around him, but with each second things were growing more distant and dim. He could no longer concentrate enough to hear. All he knew now was that he saw her climb to her feet and brandish his sword. Almost as if in slow motion, he watched in numb horror as his friends readied their weapons. Rowen's arrow was first to fly, burying itself halfway into her shoulder. When she didn't stop, Sai hurled his dagger at her, landing in her side. Both he and Sage rushed her and slashed, but both missed. She managed to leap into the air above them, slamming her fist into Sai's helmet and his sword into Sage's ribs. Not stopping, she stumbled toward him, dragging the katana now coated from hilt to tip with the still warm blood of his friends. She was now standing beside him, making too dangerous a target for Rowen, who was still fairly distant.
Ryo stared up at her through blurred vision. She was bracing herself on the sword, blood spilling down her armor and dripping off the blade.
His mind was starting to swim even more now, and he lay, dazed and confused, in the blood-stained mud. Talpa had lost to the armors, but this one girl had succeeded in slaughtering nearly all of them. No, that wasn't right; not slaughter. Or was it? How had one person defeated the power of the armors, when an entire Dynasty had failed? What had been different? Maybe because the armors had come from Talpa, there was some sort of connection… No. He knew what it was. He knew, and he hated himself. But he didn't really.
But it was his fault. Not entirely, though. They hadn't used the Inferno. He hadn't summoned it, and the others hadn't sent it, and it had not created itself. Because he had betrayed them. He had turned his back on them to help the one who had now killed them, and in choosing her, his connection with them had been lost. Just as when Talpa had consumed them, they had died as a result of his weakness. And it would now be burned into their souls: their anger, their pain, and their disappointment in him. And it now would be burned into his consciousness for the last few moments of life.
The field was now silent, save the crackle of distant flames and the scattering of dislodged pebbles by the wind. He could hear Sage gasping for air as he bled to death. Sai was silent, his limp form curled beside Sage's on the ground. Kento, too, was silent, still clutching his naginata tightly as the mud dripped off his armor. And Rowen, off in the distance, finally succumbed to the blade in his back, sinking first to his knees, and then slumping to the ground with a clink of his armor. Ryo didn't know how he could see and hear all this as he lay on his back, surrounded by smoke with blood running into his eyes, mouth, and ears.
I must be dying already…
He saw again the Warlords, brutally attacked and utterly defeated. Sekhmet, lying face down in the mud, left arm at an unnatural angle and a dagger in his side. Dais, ironically crushed beneath a rockfall of Kento's accidental doing; a cruel joke on her part. Kayura slept almost peacefully, her long hair almost hiding the gaping wound in her stomach. Kale, lying like a slumbering wolf; jaw broken, and chest plate crushed two sizes too small for his ribcage to sustain. And finally Anubis, looking like a baby in a crib, face calm and marred only by the rivers of blood running from his nose, ears, and mouth.
He realized he was missing two people. He couldn't see them anywhere. Then, he saw them, not here, locked up… They had locked them up at home, so they would be safe. And so that they would not have to face their friend and be tempted to betray… Instead, Ryo realized, they now suffered worse. They sat, still pounding on the walls, now sobbing hysterically as they felt their friends' life forces fade painfully to nothing. And they now had no way out. The door was locked.
Maybe Whiteblaze will let them out…
But no, the big cat would not be there either. He dragged himself, bloody and limping, to his master's side and lay down beside him. Loyal to the end. I'm sorry, Whiteblaze…
So, now everyone would die, and it was all for nothing. The rest of the world would move on, not noticing, and there would be no one to bury anyone who had died today. The others were all dead or dying, and the girls, if they didn't die from the grief and pain alone, would slowly starve to death. He felt bad for whoever died last…
It started to get even darker and foggier. Looking where he thought was up, though it seemed an awful lot like down, he saw her, still standing, weakening every second as the blood poured from her wounds. She staggered, trying to gather the strength to lift the sword and kill him. She raised it enough to place the point on his throat and was about to push it in when her knees finally buckled and she slumped down, hand running down the blade. The katana clattered to the ground. She lay across him, still possessing that gleam in her eye that told him she wanted him dead.
Soon enough…
Without knowing where the strength came from, he reached down and pulled her up against him. He thought it odd she didn't try to fight, but by now she was probably as weak as him.
As the world continued to darken, he could no longer even see well enough to see her face, but he didn't need to. He'd memorized it. Finally, he was able to just hold on and rest.
So nice… Comfortable…
Everything else faded, and he thought only of holding on. Not of the lives it had cost, the price he'd paid for these few precious seconds. Just holding on forever…
Ranting:
…So, confused yet? Well, hopefully it'll make a little more sense after a chapter or two,
depending on how soon they get up, and how slow I am with the plot. (See last few
chapters) But we shall see...
Also, I must toss out a giant domo arigato to a certain pal o' mine who typed this all up
for me a while back. All I had to do was tweak my lines a little and type the rant! Yeah!
Anywho… That's about all… Review! Review! Review! Please!
