numb to the pain . Yuki/Amelia day 5
Nov 21, 2020 17:24:45 GMT -5
Post by max jones d6 ☠️ kiah on Nov 21, 2020 17:24:45 GMT -5
Yuki had thought that he would feel more envious of Amelia as her blade lands the final blow. A cannon booms through the arena, Yuki watches as the girl falls into the crimson puddle that had accumulated beneath her body. But as he looks at the body, at the blood and broken flesh and bone he finds that he feels nothing.
A couple years ago, the sight of the blood, of the lifeless body, would have sent him to the ground, tears and vomit expelled from his body. So much had changed in the last couple years, so much so that seeing his parents bodies had caused his heart to hurt, but the pain had faded. Too quickly. It was not normal for barely a tear to slip down his cheek as he buried his loved ones in his yard. Yuno had pounded on his front door, demanding that he let her in, he had thrown in some ear buds and ignored the girl who had saved him at the cost of their lives.
As he turns away from the body, only one thought runs through his mind: that should had been him the night Seven put a bullet in his mothers brain. Dead. His game of survival should have ended that terrible night. That night, was the first night, he had started to loose touch with who he was, and morph into this new child. One who was heartless and cold and so very broken.
Yuki had not said a word as he grabbed Amelia by the wrist, one look tossed over his shoulder at Pin girl and Nine, as he took them away from the bloody mess that they had created. "Let's go," he demands as he drags her away from the messy aftermath of the battle.
Silence fills the space between them as they walk, leaving a trail of their own blood. Fingers tighten on her wrist as he breathes through another wave of pain, panting at the fire in his chest as his broken rib cage protest with each expansion of his lungs. He doesn't look at her at first, his words slipping past his lips before he can stop them, "I feel nothing too, you know." Eyes to examine her face, and he realises that he still had a firm grip on her wrist. Hastily he lets go, "when those canons fire, or at the sight of the bodies, I don't feel anything. I should feel something, right?" After all he had killed the girl too, his blade covered in her blood.
Quickly he shuffles through his pack, pulling out some fire wood and matches. It might have been a mistake to light a fire tonight, but his stomach growled like an angry beast, and his body was desperate to feel the lick of fire against his skin. His hands move quickly, placing the pieces of wood before striking the match against the box. He watches as the flame begins to burn brighter and warmer, growing as it ate away at the fuel he offered it.
"Oh man, now that feels good." Turning his gaze back to Amelia he notices the deep gashes that lace her flesh, the drops of blood that splatter on the snow. "Sit," he points to a spot near the fire, pulling out his needle and thread. "I'll try and sew up the worst- hand me some bandages, will you?"
