A/N: I haven't written anything for too long. Unfortunately, not much was coming to mind for this series, but I'm hoping that this chapter will bump up my motivation again. So here's chapter 32. Sorry for the wait.

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32. Isolated Caraway and Chinkapin

Fragment of Time

He is completely motionless, curled into a ball of safety and comfort with thin, frail legs pulled close to his chest. He breathes quietly, the kind that fools one into thinking you're asleep, a slow inhale and exhale that's just enough to get a proper amount of oxygen.

With unnerving ease, Asura lazily drags an eye open, peering into the darkness he's hidden within. Black is all he sees, and as satisfying as the picture is, something nags at his soul. Something is wrong with this sanctuary he's made for himself, and there's a crack in the darkness that peels away the safety and peace of it. It takes him a few moments to realize it's like his time beneath the Academy, wrapped in the prison of his skin. He's recreated the same environment, like a homesick child crying for the familiarity of his own bed.

The powerful being grinds his teeth together, ignoring the darkness. He doesn't want to be reminded of his time in captivity. This time it's different. He can leave whenever he wants. He hides away calmly knowing there's a world outside he can access. It's not the same as when he was a prisoner. He won't let himself believe it's even similar.

Something twists within his chest, a deep burning beside his soul that is anything but comforting. It's a scorching pain, a collection of regret and guilty longing, two feelings that visit more frequently than he cares to admit.

Look at this. The voice says, tone free of emotion, but something within Asura wants to hear pity, so he does.

Look at this being, cowering away from the world yet having the nerve to claim he can step outside. The voice hums quietly, a short note of consideration. How long do you plan to rot away this time? How much time will you waste away in this cage?

Asura exhales slowly, rubbing a hand over the aching throb in his chest and replying tiredly, "I'm not wasting time. I'm using it to get my strength."

It takes the Great Old One a few moments to realize the choppy, musical vibrations he's hearing are laughter. He glowers as the voice tries to smother its outburst and mutters glumly, "How long has it been?"

He senses a gentle smile forming on the voice's peaceful face.

Assuming you speak of my laughter, much too long, my dear friend.

Asura swallows, keeping himself from surrendering to the horrid chill threatening to crawl down his spine. He doesn't want to speak anymore, not with such reminisce sifting through his mind like a curious needle. However, his wishes aren't granted as he senses movement from the sharp burn in his chest.

Do you remember the time we got you to laugh? Okay, that's untrue. We got you to smile, though, didn't we?

Asura draws his knees closer and rests his forehead against the bones jutting out against cold skin, willing the voice to leave, taking the dead memories with it.

We even had Death smiling, didn't we? Eibon too, probably, had we been able to see his face. I saw Black Mass laugh, though I know he'd never admit it.

"Please, stop talking," Asura whispers hoarsely. He would be a pitiful sight to his enemies if they could see him, pale and shaking and pleading for the voice in his mind to stop bringing up the past.

I can't stop. The voice almost sounds apologetic. I have nothing but time, dear friend, and there's only so much I can do with it. I can't keep it all to myself, for I fear in this state, I'll decompose. Help me to shoulder the burden, for you were the one who took away my ability to carry it myself.

Asura twists his fingers together, bending bones and pulling nervously at the skin as he begins to remember. He sees a black void, one much darker than this, and hears new voices. He can taste a copper tang from both metal and blood as he devours his weapon partner. He remembers the gasp from one of those who'd witnessed his barbaric act, remembers lunging towards them and tearing into their chest, wrenching their soul through their ribcage and showing it to his victim.

Asura bites down on his fingers, shaking his head in an attempt to dispel the memory, but it's as fresh as the blood beginning to trickle down his hands.

He remembers the shriek of the second individual, the Great Old One who he'd never seen fearful. In that moment, he'd savored the wide eyes and horrified wail that accompanied his old friend, sneering when they'd turned to run. It had only been a matter of ripping them apart after that and plucking the soul from his lifeless comrade.

Asura curls his fingers, pressing his face into his bloody palms and chasing away every memory. With every mental scream, he casts them away, one nightmare after another until his mind is shrouded in nothingness. Nothingness and an old friend.

My dear friend. The voice murmurs, almost with the tenderness of a concerned mother. You see the pain that accumulates with time? Do you see the chaos that begins to stack up from sitting too long in the dark? Do you see this is what befalls you when alone?

Asura spreads his fingers, peering through tattered skin and crimson. "I'm not alone, Vajra."

He can feel the faint throb in his chest slow like that of an old drum knowing it's at the end of its rope.

You're alone, dear friend. Since the day you killed me and the others, you've been alone. Any memories and agony have been of your own doing. I only exist as a fragment of time within your soul.

Asura opens his eyes to stare into the darkness, hoping for a glimpse of something he can hold onto for comfort, but there is nothing. He's chased away every memory and let the pain of his old friend fade back into the dark corner of his heart where it will wait until he calls upon it again.

He's alone.

He's a trembling existence surrounded by a cold nothingness that does little to calm him while he speaks to himself in the dark.

He's alone.

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A/N: I wanted to do a serious one this time. I wrote about Asura and The Great Old Ones quite awhile ago, and I may put it in a separate story at some point, but we'll see. Since each Great Old One kind of represents something (Death - Order, Asura - Fear, ect.), I wrote Vajra as Time. Hope you enjoyed it. If there are any pairings that sound weird or ridiculous, let me know and I'll be happy to see what I can do.