Title: Nothing Has Changed
Author: vendettadays
Fandom: Black Rock Shooter [OVA]
Pairing: Black Rock Shooter/Dead Master
Characters: Black Rock Shooter, Dead Master
Rating: T
Length: 1068
Spoilers: None
Summary: Black Rock Shooter will keep trying. She can't stop. She can't ever stop. She will keep trying even if nothing ever changes.
Black Rock Shooter knows what is going to come next. She knows it like the back of her hand. She reaches out, her blue eyes staring hard, but gentle into those unfeeling green eyes, asking a silent 'take my hand'.
That is all she asks. All she wants.
She knows what is coming next. It is the back of her hand, it is the scars etched on her pale body, and it is her determined, battle-weary eyes.
It is that familiar.
Instead of taking her outstretched hand, Dead Master swings her scythe, sending her skulls and the battle begins.
Always.
Never-ending.
Without fail.
Black Rock Shooter dodges out of habit. The action is old, but it still feels new. Today's fight was yesterday's fight. Every move they perform is the same. The checkerboard setting is the same. The colours are the same.
Wash.
Rinse.
Repeat.
The only thing that breaks this endless cycle is the person she saves in the end. But one thing never changes.
Black Rock Shooter can never save Dead Master.
In the beginning she tried desperately. Running faster, chasing quicker, dodging better. She even spoke a few times to her. But when her efforts to speak bore no fruition, she abandoned that altogether. She never kept count of how many times they have fought (or even will fight), but one thing Black Rock Shooter will never abandon is the hope that she can save Dead Master.
Impossible.
The word rings in her head as she fires her rock cannon. The tiles of the checked floor crater with each impact, but Dead Master jumps away before any of the shots can hit her. With a single swing of Dead Master's scythe and the floor beneath Black Rock Shooter's feet crack and give way.
Impossible. Impossible. Impossible.
The words whisper their way into Black Rock Shooter's ears as she freefalls through the air. She takes no notice of them. It happens every time and the whisperings get louder the closer they near to the end. She never listens to them. She never did and she never will, because if she does, then that will be the end.
If she starts to believe the malicious voice inside her head telling her to give in.
You can't save her.
It's pointless.
Just stop.
Then she will fail.
If she can save all those other girls, those faces that seem to blur together into one, then she can save Dead Master.
Black Rock Shooter dodges the chains that hurtle their way towards her, firing blast after blast as she somersaults away. Their fight gets higher and higher as they jump from one piece of ruin to the next, until they finally reach the top floor.
She knows it's coming. She can feel it, but she cannot prevent it.
Impossible.
The whisper is loud, harsh, and she is distracted by it enough that one of Dead Master's chain lashes itself to her right ankle and drags her against a wall. Her wrists are bound and she can do nothing, but watch the smirk on Dead Master's face grow and her green eyes narrow.
Dead Master walks slowly towards her, her heels clicking against the worn stone with each step she makes. The sound bounces around, reverberating off the walls of the cathedral's dome, just like the thoughts that are forcing their way to the front of Black Rock Shooter's mind.
She wonders why they do this. Why they continue to fight, when she can't even remember why they started in the first place. It can't always have been like this. Black Rock Shooter struggles against the chains that tie her to the wall and wonders if what they do hurts Dead Master as much as it hurts her?
Dead Master stops in front of her and kneels down, so that they are eye-level. Green. Blue. They are colours that are never meant to complement each other. But it doesn't stop Black Rock Shooter from trying.
She stares into those green eyes and she sees it! Behind the coldness and indifference, small and hidden, silent and desperate, is the tiny glimmer of fear that they will have to repeat this again.
That is all it takes.
Black Rock Shooter grits her teeth as the rusty bite of the chains grate against the skin of her wrists. She gathers her remaining strength, tugs hard until the chains creak and break. She stands up and walks to Dead Master, who is wide-eyed in disbelief.
Dead Master backs away from her, her feet travelling backwards and she is almost at the ledge. One more step, just one more step.
Black Rock Shooter holds out her hand again.
It's nearing the end. Black Rock Shooter knows it. Dead Master knows it.
Dead Master sneers and steps back. Just as she feels she is about to fall, Black Rock Shooter wraps her arms around her and she is suspended from her death.
Black Rock Shooter's grip tightens their hold on Dead Master. She can bear all the cut and bruises that can be inflicted on her, but it is this moment that is always the most painful to her. Dead Master's eyes are cold, but her body is warm. It only adds to the pain that Black Rock Shooter feels.
She hugs Dead Master closer to brace against the moment where she will be ripped from her. This moment was always intended to be short-lived.
It's the end.
She knows it.
It is the back of her hand.
The scars on her body.
The warmth that radiates from Dead Master.
Something is different as the edges of Black Rock Shooter's vision start to blur. Dead Master doesn't push her away. Instead, she feels a claw-tipped hand fist itself into the back of her coat as the world begins to whiten.
For the first time Black Rock Shooter allows herself to think, maybe, just maybe this time…
Black Rock Shooter opens her eyes and she takes in her surroundings.
She is standing on a cliff over-looking the cathedral, which she knows Dead Master is waiting for her.
The desolate wasteland is still as unwelcoming, the full moon in the sky is still watching her every move, and the wind is still muttering for her to go away.
Black Rock Shooter pulls her hood over her head and starts her descent from the cliff.
Nothing has changed.