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not-avampire.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2007-06-30 05:07 pm
not-avampire.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-06-30 05:07 pm
Log; Completed
When; Yesterday [6-29; Sweltering Heat Day]
Rating; G... PG, at most.
Characters; Kurotsuchi Nemu [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sciencedaughter] & Cal Thompson [not_avampire]
Summary; Nemu has to pick up an subject for her father to experiment on. Lucky for her, she won't get lost, she's been to his apartment before.
Log;
Nemu had gone over it in her head a thousand times.
There was no way around it. This was who Mayuri-sama wanted, whose file he had selected from her notes and flipped through, noted everything she’d written of their interactions, of his abilities and disease, and tossed the hard copy at her, watched her pick it up and blanch.
Mayuri-sama wanted Cal Thompson.
She’d gone over it, if she could possibly get away with failing and yet knew she couldn?t, because then Mayuri-sama would just come himself and it would be so much worse, and she would hurt and be punished for her failure. And she couldn’t defy him, anyway. He could tell her to attack Yamamoto-Soutaichou and she would do it because he ordered it.
There was no way out. And it was hot out, humid heat that made her braid cling to the back of her neck, made her uniform cling and stick as she knocked on the door of Cal?s residence, her stomach twisted into knots.
Her eyes were sad.
---
Cal wasn’t really expecting anyone, but Cal was never expecting anyone, so it was no surprise that he was actually quite surprised when someone knocked on his door. One of the few things he actually prided himself on, that had taken him a while to admit, was that, in the end, he was a good little recluse. Very few people bothered him. As Zahler would say, all according to plan,’.
He fiddled with the television remote, turned it off, and threw on a shirt (it was so hot!) before scrambling to the door.
“Nemu? Hi. What’s up?”
---
“I-” Nemu started, her hands, normally still and properly folded in her lap or behind her back twisted in front of her, wringing with small pops of her knuckles. What was she supposed to say? Do? Would it be better for him for her to just knock him out now or to tell him? Would he fight, scream, like the Arrancar had, or could she slip something in his drink like the Vaizard’s? But- this was... Cal.
“Mayuri-sama would like to study you.” She finally spoke, her voice small and soft, hesitant, her gaze averted, tense. She couldn?t meet his gaze, could only look at a spot on his shoulder where sweat had soaked into cotton.
---
Cal was a bit confused.
“Study me...?”
His first mental image was of what Dr Rat used to do, in order to
‘study’ people. She’d stick them in a room, give them meds and interview them behind a glass wall. Cal had watched, from time to time, it was creepy to look at, but no one got hurt.
Cal was pretty sure that wasn’t the case, this time.
“Uh... what, exactly, does that mean?”
But, judging from what he’d already been told of Nemu’s crazy-ass dad? He already knew.
---
Typical Cal.
“I... am not at liberty to explain.” She shifted, hands gripping tightly, knuckles white. Why wasn’t he upset? Shouldn’t he be angry? Scared? He should hit her, blame her? Please.
“I-” Words caught in her throat and her gaze dropped, though by instinct she still watched the muscles in his legs in case he thought to bolt.
“I’m sorry.” Something hitched in her mouth, a taste of bitter and sickening flavor that told her this was wrong, all wrong, and she was weak for doing it.
---
Cal sighed.
If he had any doubts before, they where gone, something was definitely wrong. Not sure what, but something was wrong.
“Come inside,” he motioned for her, “It’s hotter than Texas in July out there, and you’re wearing black.” Not to mention that skirt, and-... Cal flicked the rubber band on his wrist. No bad thoughts.
He looked in the direction of the kitchen, lazily, “You wanna soda?”
For some odd reason, he was reminded of what The Shrink had said to him, once, about how when he was sad or scared of something, or in trouble, he’d block it from his mind and pretend that all was normal. Which was odd, because that was totally not what he was doing right now.
Not at all.
---
He’d flicked the rubber band. Nemu normally tried to adjust her clothing when she saw him do that, to cover more or something, but now-
She stepped inside but that did not ease the heat much, though her skin prickled at the cool of the air conditioning. She was stalling, trying not to concentrate, but knowing that Mayuri was waiting, and not patiently, for his next subject...
“No, I’m- I’m fine.” The shinigami looked to her feet, couldn’t bring herself raise her gaze or take a seat.
“You should probably run.”
---
Cal chuckled, “Yeah. I can actually run pretty fast, but you’d still outrun me. And that’d be really embarrassing.”
He scratched the back of his head. Something was really wrong. Nemu’s dad (who, Cal had noticed, she never called ‘dad’ or the freaky-hard-to-pronounce Japanese translation of ‘dad’ Cal’d looked up once, that started with an ‘O’) was a bad guy, right? And he wanted to ‘study’ him?
Cal’s head was suddenly filled with flashes of the scenes with Gene Wilder in Young Frankenstein.
So not good.
---
“I could disable a muscle in my leg. It would make my failure more acceptable, and I would not be lying if you outran me that condition.” But she wouldn?t. She couldn’t. Mayuri would know if she did that, would punish her, would-
“I’m sorry, Cal-” She murmured, her voice hitched again one something she couldn’t describe, couldn’t name, knowing he would hate her soon enough and she didn’t want him to be hurt, didn’t want him to hate her, and-
---
“Please, no self-mutilation for my sake.” He wasn’t sure if she was serious. He hoped not. For her sake.
Cal forced his hands into his pockets.
“Anyway... it’s too hot outside to run...” Cal sighed, softly.
It was becoming harder for him to pretend nothing was wrong when she was getting so quiet, like this. Not to say that Nemu was generally boisterous, but this was an unprecedented level of quietude.
He coughed, “Should we... go, then?”
---
Her gaze snapped up, eyes widening slightly and every muscle tensing, clutching, her stomach knotting tighter and tighter until she thought she’d vomit.
“What?” She breathed, hands wringing almost frantically.
---
“...Unless your crazy dad lives in my house, of course. But I think I’d smell him if he did... not that I think anyone’s particularly smelly, I’ve just...?” He gently poked his nose, “Got a good nose, y’know?”
Cal threw the food he was eating on the couch in the garbage, tied up
the bags and put them by the door. He’d throw them out when they left.
Right now, in other words. Why put off the inevitable?
He opened the door a little, “Shall we...?”
---
“N- No.” Nemu didn’t move, couldn’t move towards the door yet, why didn’t he understand that-
Her mind couldn’t stop running through options, playing out how things could go, how things would be, and none of them ended in a way that left them both unscathed. She would not mind being hurt, she was used to it, and yet he still-
“He?ll hurt you, Cal.” She felt something begin to snap.
---
Cal shrugged. If he put it from his mind, it wouldn’t worry about him as much.
“Eh. Random chance seems to have operated not in my favor.”
He opened the door more, and slipped a pair of his keys into the gutter above his door. God only knew when he’d get back here, but he might as well have a key ready when he did.
If he did?
No, when he did.
---
“This isn?t random chance, Cal!” Nemu protested, voice rising, not moving, begging him silently to walk away from the door.
“He took my notes, and I kept notes on everyone I ever spoke with, it’s because of me he knows what you can do and about your condition, and-”
Hate me for it. Her eyes shimmered, there was something wrong
with them, she felt burning behind them, raised a pale hand to rub, to deny the sensation.
---
“In plain, non-Vulcan English, that means I’ve been unlucky...” Wait, was she crying? Was she about to cry?
Shit.
Cal sighed. He’d been doing a lot of that lately. He walked over to Nemu, and, slowly, with slight hesitation (because this was Nemu and public displays of emotion were Not Her), he put his hand on her shoulder.
“N-Nemu? It’s gonna be okay, alright? I promise?”
---
“It’s not going to be okay.” She stiffened even more, couldn’t take any form of comfort from the reassuring gesture, because it wasn?t going to be alright, it wasn?t, and he just didn?t get it, did he?
She felt something like moisture in her eyes, attributed it to sweat or some such from the heat, hands clutched tighter and seizing up.
“You’ll be... damaged, and it’s my fault.” The shinigami wanted him to blame her, because, selfish, she was so selfish, she could do it if he hated her for it, if he fought her, if he protested, please, but he wasn?t.
---
She stiffened at his touch. Did she expect him to hit her?
That was not going to happen.
“Damaged... No, where I live is damaged.” Cal smiled, a faraway kind of glimmer, “A whole city is kinda a smoldering hole of concrete and corpses. And it’s never gonna be the same.” He paused, “That hotdog stand on fifth? I’m never gonna get that thing back.
He tried to pat her on the head, again, maybe loose some of the stress
of the situation. He could do without the stress.
“So... I don?t think one human... thing. Whatever he is. Could do that to another person.”
---
Since Mayuri had come to the City, the only touch she had known was the kick to her ribs, the back of her skull slamming into the concrete, and the snap of limbs tossed carelessly to the ground. When he patted her, she flinched.
“He’ll take you apart.” Nemu spoke from experience, felt something hot and foreign on her eyelids, stuck in her eyelashes, something that she wasn’t supposed to do, but had learned to do. To cry, a tear, just one, two, for one of the few people she considered a friend.
“He’ll experiment on you until you break.” His subjects had never minded before. They were just subjects; she had not seen them as anything but that, and now, thanks to her stay, away from him, they had all become so much more real, so much more empathetic, and... so much more personal.
---
“He should seriously meet up with Prolix and Rat. They would beat the shit outta him.” Okay, maybe that wasn’t the most caring thing to say in the world, but he felt like saying it. Seeing as he was, apparently, about to get mutilated, he could take liberties.
Wait.
Hold up.
Mutilated. That means blood, right?
“Nemu,” Cal shrunk back from her her. It looked like she was freaking out... more, “Can I ask you a favor?” It was selfish to ask her for something when she was upset like this, he knew, but it was important.
---
She tried to speak, but nothing came out, only nodded, let her gaze slip and fall and nod again.
Favor? He wanted a favor? He could have a hundred favors, ten favors, three, she didn’t care. It was Cal and she was going to take him to Mayuri-sama.
Because Mayuri-sama had ordered it. And orders were obeyed.
---
Cal nodded. Okay.
“Thanks.” He paused. How could he phrase this? “Can you... try, and make sure no one else gets hit with my... condition?”
He couldn’t stand that. Marla, and Sarah and Lace, and no one else. Especially not in The City, where they could drag it back home and infect their world.
But he trusted Nemu. It was... going to be okay.
“Hey. I don’t blame you, alright?”
---
“I can’t- Mayuri-sama knows-” Her protests died weakly, stifled under what little will she had concerning Mayuri, and she exhaled.
“I can try- to prevent such...” She murmured, unsure of whether she wanted to wipe the moisture from her eyes and draw attention to it inadvertently, or let it stay.
?? Please,? That he wouldn?t blame her? ?? Please blame me.?
---
“Just... do your best.” He tried smiling again. It hadn’t worked last time, but hey, who knew? “I have faith,”
Cal idly wondered if he had any tissues. But the girl was strung out enough, if he tried to get some for her, she’d probably flinch again. And seeing how tense Nemu was, if she did that, she’d probably have seizure.
Wait, what did she just ask? “Um... nah. I’ll blame the other guy. I don’t like him so much.”
---
“I could defy him.” She pointed out, almost desperate in her belly for the blame to be placed on her, so she could be hated for what she was about to do, betray a friendship she had created, something she’d nurtured and cared for, all by herself, without Mayuri-sama interfering.
“I don’t- I don’t have to listen to him.” Saying it was one thing. Doing another.
---
“What? Um...” What was she going on about now? She’d lost Cal.
He’d said he didn’t blame her, so she says she’s not gonna do it? Is that some magic word or something? Jesus. If Lace were this complicated, he’d of sworn off women long ago.
Then... don’t?” Altruism aside, if he could jump the knife without casualties, he would.
---
“I don’t want to make Mayuri-sama angry.” She had said it, but she couldn’t do it. “I can’t stand him being angry with me.” It was so stupid, she knew it was illogical. To be beaten and still come back, to be treated like dirt and still come back.
She always came back.
“I- I’m sorry, Cal.” And she knew she should have knocked him out minutes ago, but- he wasn’t... resisting. Or running. Or attacking. Or protesting... Nothing.
---
“Oh, okay, then.” Cal shrugged. So it was one of those things were you said it under duress, but it didn’t mean anything? Oh, okay.
He could deal with that.
“Alright, then.” Cal sighed, “How long do you think...” But he stopped that line of questioning. It didn’t matter.
“Uh. I guess we should go?”
---
No, no, this was all wrong, all wrong. But it was going to happen.
“I’ll need to render you unconscious.” She murmured brokenly, finally raised her hands to her face and let long fingers, one hand stiffer and uncooperative, brush at her eyes.
---
Cal was going to make a joke about how that was really not the best pickup line, but-
He didn’t.
“Um. Alright.” He scratched his head, “How- oh, wait.” He thought about bringing the sword, but realized he’d very likely not get it back if he chose that path of option, “Never mind. How’re you gonna knock me out?”
---
It was a moment of silence, when she debated internally. But the outcome was what it always was, what it would always be, it seemed. Her hand shot out and fingers pressed hard into the pressure point on his neck, caught him before he hit the ground, closed her eyes when he slumped against her, head on her chest. She stood there, another moment, before she opened her eyes. One hand traveled down and snapped the rubber band on his wrist.
A forlorn noise.
It took another moment to shift his body, her delicate seeming build belying the strength she was built with, before he was draped over her shoulder and she was walking out the door.
Three moments. Three moments for her heart to cry.
Rating; G... PG, at most.
Characters; Kurotsuchi Nemu [
sciencedaughter] & Cal Thompson [not_avampire]Summary; Nemu has to pick up an subject for her father to experiment on. Lucky for her, she won't get lost, she's been to his apartment before.
Log;
Nemu had gone over it in her head a thousand times.
There was no way around it. This was who Mayuri-sama wanted, whose file he had selected from her notes and flipped through, noted everything she’d written of their interactions, of his abilities and disease, and tossed the hard copy at her, watched her pick it up and blanch.
Mayuri-sama wanted Cal Thompson.
She’d gone over it, if she could possibly get away with failing and yet knew she couldn?t, because then Mayuri-sama would just come himself and it would be so much worse, and she would hurt and be punished for her failure. And she couldn’t defy him, anyway. He could tell her to attack Yamamoto-Soutaichou and she would do it because he ordered it.
There was no way out. And it was hot out, humid heat that made her braid cling to the back of her neck, made her uniform cling and stick as she knocked on the door of Cal?s residence, her stomach twisted into knots.
Her eyes were sad.
---
Cal wasn’t really expecting anyone, but Cal was never expecting anyone, so it was no surprise that he was actually quite surprised when someone knocked on his door. One of the few things he actually prided himself on, that had taken him a while to admit, was that, in the end, he was a good little recluse. Very few people bothered him. As Zahler would say, all according to plan,’.
He fiddled with the television remote, turned it off, and threw on a shirt (it was so hot!) before scrambling to the door.
“Nemu? Hi. What’s up?”
---
“I-” Nemu started, her hands, normally still and properly folded in her lap or behind her back twisted in front of her, wringing with small pops of her knuckles. What was she supposed to say? Do? Would it be better for him for her to just knock him out now or to tell him? Would he fight, scream, like the Arrancar had, or could she slip something in his drink like the Vaizard’s? But- this was... Cal.
“Mayuri-sama would like to study you.” She finally spoke, her voice small and soft, hesitant, her gaze averted, tense. She couldn?t meet his gaze, could only look at a spot on his shoulder where sweat had soaked into cotton.
---
Cal was a bit confused.
“Study me...?”
His first mental image was of what Dr Rat used to do, in order to
‘study’ people. She’d stick them in a room, give them meds and interview them behind a glass wall. Cal had watched, from time to time, it was creepy to look at, but no one got hurt.
Cal was pretty sure that wasn’t the case, this time.
“Uh... what, exactly, does that mean?”
But, judging from what he’d already been told of Nemu’s crazy-ass dad? He already knew.
---
Typical Cal.
“I... am not at liberty to explain.” She shifted, hands gripping tightly, knuckles white. Why wasn’t he upset? Shouldn’t he be angry? Scared? He should hit her, blame her? Please.
“I-” Words caught in her throat and her gaze dropped, though by instinct she still watched the muscles in his legs in case he thought to bolt.
“I’m sorry.” Something hitched in her mouth, a taste of bitter and sickening flavor that told her this was wrong, all wrong, and she was weak for doing it.
---
Cal sighed.
If he had any doubts before, they where gone, something was definitely wrong. Not sure what, but something was wrong.
“Come inside,” he motioned for her, “It’s hotter than Texas in July out there, and you’re wearing black.” Not to mention that skirt, and-... Cal flicked the rubber band on his wrist. No bad thoughts.
He looked in the direction of the kitchen, lazily, “You wanna soda?”
For some odd reason, he was reminded of what The Shrink had said to him, once, about how when he was sad or scared of something, or in trouble, he’d block it from his mind and pretend that all was normal. Which was odd, because that was totally not what he was doing right now.
Not at all.
---
He’d flicked the rubber band. Nemu normally tried to adjust her clothing when she saw him do that, to cover more or something, but now-
She stepped inside but that did not ease the heat much, though her skin prickled at the cool of the air conditioning. She was stalling, trying not to concentrate, but knowing that Mayuri was waiting, and not patiently, for his next subject...
“No, I’m- I’m fine.” The shinigami looked to her feet, couldn’t bring herself raise her gaze or take a seat.
“You should probably run.”
---
Cal chuckled, “Yeah. I can actually run pretty fast, but you’d still outrun me. And that’d be really embarrassing.”
He scratched the back of his head. Something was really wrong. Nemu’s dad (who, Cal had noticed, she never called ‘dad’ or the freaky-hard-to-pronounce Japanese translation of ‘dad’ Cal’d looked up once, that started with an ‘O’) was a bad guy, right? And he wanted to ‘study’ him?
Cal’s head was suddenly filled with flashes of the scenes with Gene Wilder in Young Frankenstein.
So not good.
---
“I could disable a muscle in my leg. It would make my failure more acceptable, and I would not be lying if you outran me that condition.” But she wouldn?t. She couldn’t. Mayuri would know if she did that, would punish her, would-
“I’m sorry, Cal-” She murmured, her voice hitched again one something she couldn’t describe, couldn’t name, knowing he would hate her soon enough and she didn’t want him to be hurt, didn’t want him to hate her, and-
---
“Please, no self-mutilation for my sake.” He wasn’t sure if she was serious. He hoped not. For her sake.
Cal forced his hands into his pockets.
“Anyway... it’s too hot outside to run...” Cal sighed, softly.
It was becoming harder for him to pretend nothing was wrong when she was getting so quiet, like this. Not to say that Nemu was generally boisterous, but this was an unprecedented level of quietude.
He coughed, “Should we... go, then?”
---
Her gaze snapped up, eyes widening slightly and every muscle tensing, clutching, her stomach knotting tighter and tighter until she thought she’d vomit.
“What?” She breathed, hands wringing almost frantically.
---
“...Unless your crazy dad lives in my house, of course. But I think I’d smell him if he did... not that I think anyone’s particularly smelly, I’ve just...?” He gently poked his nose, “Got a good nose, y’know?”
Cal threw the food he was eating on the couch in the garbage, tied up
the bags and put them by the door. He’d throw them out when they left.
Right now, in other words. Why put off the inevitable?
He opened the door a little, “Shall we...?”
---
“N- No.” Nemu didn’t move, couldn’t move towards the door yet, why didn’t he understand that-
Her mind couldn’t stop running through options, playing out how things could go, how things would be, and none of them ended in a way that left them both unscathed. She would not mind being hurt, she was used to it, and yet he still-
“He?ll hurt you, Cal.” She felt something begin to snap.
---
Cal shrugged. If he put it from his mind, it wouldn’t worry about him as much.
“Eh. Random chance seems to have operated not in my favor.”
He opened the door more, and slipped a pair of his keys into the gutter above his door. God only knew when he’d get back here, but he might as well have a key ready when he did.
If he did?
No, when he did.
---
“This isn?t random chance, Cal!” Nemu protested, voice rising, not moving, begging him silently to walk away from the door.
“He took my notes, and I kept notes on everyone I ever spoke with, it’s because of me he knows what you can do and about your condition, and-”
Hate me for it. Her eyes shimmered, there was something wrong
with them, she felt burning behind them, raised a pale hand to rub, to deny the sensation.
---
“In plain, non-Vulcan English, that means I’ve been unlucky...” Wait, was she crying? Was she about to cry?
Shit.
Cal sighed. He’d been doing a lot of that lately. He walked over to Nemu, and, slowly, with slight hesitation (because this was Nemu and public displays of emotion were Not Her), he put his hand on her shoulder.
“N-Nemu? It’s gonna be okay, alright? I promise?”
---
“It’s not going to be okay.” She stiffened even more, couldn’t take any form of comfort from the reassuring gesture, because it wasn?t going to be alright, it wasn?t, and he just didn?t get it, did he?
She felt something like moisture in her eyes, attributed it to sweat or some such from the heat, hands clutched tighter and seizing up.
“You’ll be... damaged, and it’s my fault.” The shinigami wanted him to blame her, because, selfish, she was so selfish, she could do it if he hated her for it, if he fought her, if he protested, please, but he wasn?t.
---
She stiffened at his touch. Did she expect him to hit her?
That was not going to happen.
“Damaged... No, where I live is damaged.” Cal smiled, a faraway kind of glimmer, “A whole city is kinda a smoldering hole of concrete and corpses. And it’s never gonna be the same.” He paused, “That hotdog stand on fifth? I’m never gonna get that thing back.
He tried to pat her on the head, again, maybe loose some of the stress
of the situation. He could do without the stress.
“So... I don?t think one human... thing. Whatever he is. Could do that to another person.”
---
Since Mayuri had come to the City, the only touch she had known was the kick to her ribs, the back of her skull slamming into the concrete, and the snap of limbs tossed carelessly to the ground. When he patted her, she flinched.
“He’ll take you apart.” Nemu spoke from experience, felt something hot and foreign on her eyelids, stuck in her eyelashes, something that she wasn’t supposed to do, but had learned to do. To cry, a tear, just one, two, for one of the few people she considered a friend.
“He’ll experiment on you until you break.” His subjects had never minded before. They were just subjects; she had not seen them as anything but that, and now, thanks to her stay, away from him, they had all become so much more real, so much more empathetic, and... so much more personal.
---
“He should seriously meet up with Prolix and Rat. They would beat the shit outta him.” Okay, maybe that wasn’t the most caring thing to say in the world, but he felt like saying it. Seeing as he was, apparently, about to get mutilated, he could take liberties.
Wait.
Hold up.
Mutilated. That means blood, right?
“Nemu,” Cal shrunk back from her her. It looked like she was freaking out... more, “Can I ask you a favor?” It was selfish to ask her for something when she was upset like this, he knew, but it was important.
---
She tried to speak, but nothing came out, only nodded, let her gaze slip and fall and nod again.
Favor? He wanted a favor? He could have a hundred favors, ten favors, three, she didn’t care. It was Cal and she was going to take him to Mayuri-sama.
Because Mayuri-sama had ordered it. And orders were obeyed.
---
Cal nodded. Okay.
“Thanks.” He paused. How could he phrase this? “Can you... try, and make sure no one else gets hit with my... condition?”
He couldn’t stand that. Marla, and Sarah and Lace, and no one else. Especially not in The City, where they could drag it back home and infect their world.
But he trusted Nemu. It was... going to be okay.
“Hey. I don’t blame you, alright?”
---
“I can’t- Mayuri-sama knows-” Her protests died weakly, stifled under what little will she had concerning Mayuri, and she exhaled.
“I can try- to prevent such...” She murmured, unsure of whether she wanted to wipe the moisture from her eyes and draw attention to it inadvertently, or let it stay.
?? Please,? That he wouldn?t blame her? ?? Please blame me.?
---
“Just... do your best.” He tried smiling again. It hadn’t worked last time, but hey, who knew? “I have faith,”
Cal idly wondered if he had any tissues. But the girl was strung out enough, if he tried to get some for her, she’d probably flinch again. And seeing how tense Nemu was, if she did that, she’d probably have seizure.
Wait, what did she just ask? “Um... nah. I’ll blame the other guy. I don’t like him so much.”
---
“I could defy him.” She pointed out, almost desperate in her belly for the blame to be placed on her, so she could be hated for what she was about to do, betray a friendship she had created, something she’d nurtured and cared for, all by herself, without Mayuri-sama interfering.
“I don’t- I don’t have to listen to him.” Saying it was one thing. Doing another.
---
“What? Um...” What was she going on about now? She’d lost Cal.
He’d said he didn’t blame her, so she says she’s not gonna do it? Is that some magic word or something? Jesus. If Lace were this complicated, he’d of sworn off women long ago.
Then... don’t?” Altruism aside, if he could jump the knife without casualties, he would.
---
“I don’t want to make Mayuri-sama angry.” She had said it, but she couldn’t do it. “I can’t stand him being angry with me.” It was so stupid, she knew it was illogical. To be beaten and still come back, to be treated like dirt and still come back.
She always came back.
“I- I’m sorry, Cal.” And she knew she should have knocked him out minutes ago, but- he wasn’t... resisting. Or running. Or attacking. Or protesting... Nothing.
---
“Oh, okay, then.” Cal shrugged. So it was one of those things were you said it under duress, but it didn’t mean anything? Oh, okay.
He could deal with that.
“Alright, then.” Cal sighed, “How long do you think...” But he stopped that line of questioning. It didn’t matter.
“Uh. I guess we should go?”
---
No, no, this was all wrong, all wrong. But it was going to happen.
“I’ll need to render you unconscious.” She murmured brokenly, finally raised her hands to her face and let long fingers, one hand stiffer and uncooperative, brush at her eyes.
---
Cal was going to make a joke about how that was really not the best pickup line, but-
He didn’t.
“Um. Alright.” He scratched his head, “How- oh, wait.” He thought about bringing the sword, but realized he’d very likely not get it back if he chose that path of option, “Never mind. How’re you gonna knock me out?”
---
It was a moment of silence, when she debated internally. But the outcome was what it always was, what it would always be, it seemed. Her hand shot out and fingers pressed hard into the pressure point on his neck, caught him before he hit the ground, closed her eyes when he slumped against her, head on her chest. She stood there, another moment, before she opened her eyes. One hand traveled down and snapped the rubber band on his wrist.
A forlorn noise.
It took another moment to shift his body, her delicate seeming build belying the strength she was built with, before he was draped over her shoulder and she was walking out the door.
Three moments. Three moments for her heart to cry.