Confrontation II
"Stop."
He opens his eyes. Five steps out of the shadows. She no longer resembles the bubbly, awkward girl that Six had come to know. Blood stains her clothes and bits of gore hang from her blue hair, creating an ocean of death and destruction. Her face, which had once smiled so brightly at him, was now forged from stone. Six felt a chill run down his spine. She moves towards them silently, like a ghost, and comes to a stop behind the warrior.
"He deserves to die." Four doesn't take his eyes off of him.
"I know." She says, softly. "And he will. But not like this, Four. Put the sword down."
"He betrayed us."
"Didn't you once tell me that it was pointless to get emotional over things you can't control?"
"I'm not emotional."
"There are sixteen dead guys on the floor who might disagree with you."
"I did what was necessary." He insists, his grip on the hilt tightening.
She continues to watch him. After a long, tense silence, he reluctantly turns to her. To the untrained eye, his expression doesn't change. Six was observing him carefully, though, and he could see the slightest bit of uncertainty begin to slip through the cracks of his armour. He couldn't blame him. He had been on the receiving end of that look before; the one where her huge eyes stare knowingly at you, as if she can see speck of dirt on your cold, blackened soul. It was unnerving as hell.
"He's going to be executed anyway." She reminds him. "Killing him now will only be giving him an easy way out."
That seems to do it. He lowers his weapon. Six feels his heart sink.
"I'll meet you at the escape pods right away." She says. "I just want a moment alone with him, okay?"
He hesitates, and then relents, sending a hateful look his way. "If she's not back in five minutes, I will return, and this time I won't be so merciful." Six nods, because he needs no more elaboration than that. The younger man leaves, and he is alone with Five. He would've thought that, with Four gone, the tension would ease somewhat. He was wrong.
Four had respected him, even liked him to an extent. But he never trusted him. No, Four never trusted anybody and therefore, he was never disappointed. Five, however, had loved him. She had once looked at him with all the trust and adoration of a child. Now that they were alone, he could feel the full force of her pain, and it stung worse than any sword.
"You son of a bitch."