Disclaimer: Nothing is owned by me.
AN: This is kind of a sequel to Liquid Heat. Er--actually, I should say that that story is a prequel to this one. So I'd recommend reading that, but it's not necessary to understand this prologue. I'm pretty sure it becomes necessary in later chapters though, so if through some miracle you find this to your liking, read it.
Takes place shortly after the end of the current arc, so once future chapters get around to showing up, it'll probably be AU.
Killing was fun.
This was one of the great truths Tsukuyomi had come to accept during her time alive. Teachers and victims could say whatever they wanted about it being wrong and immoral, and maybe they were even right. But they would still leave that essential part out:
It was fun.
Not only was it fun, it was the most exhilarating hobby anyone could ever hope to take up. Nothing could possibly compare to slicing through someone's body and feeling the spray of their blood splashing over you as you watched the life leave your victims' eyes; the sensation of their final heartbeat pounding through your weapon.
At first, it was just about the blood and its heat. In the cold world Tsukuyomi inhabited, blood was the only thing that made her feel warm enough to be counted as alive. But then she found the Shinmei School, and learned how to fight properly—a way to enhance the pleasure of killing.
There was nothing like killing, but there was also nothing like dueling a strong opponent and snuffing the life out of him. Or her. She did tend to prefer what the flesh of women had to offer.
Before she knew how to properly wield her weapons, the killing had lacked the intimacy it so rightly deserved. In one parried blow, she could understand more about what drove her victim than a thousand stabs to the torso could have told her.
She still didn't really get what it was that she was understanding, or why it mattered, but the end result was that she now felt a connection to her victims that she was free to slice to pieces. She would say that the moment when that bond was severed was what she lived for, but that wasn't true, because not all deaths involved blood—and that was what she lived for.
What really made killing fun—well, one of the more curious aspects of it—was the way people's eyes darkened the instant before their last heartbeat.
It was so funny. Even the warriors who swore that they'd fight until their last breath had that happen to them. Even the people who were holding onto memories of loved ones so desperately in an attempt to make their last moments peaceful—
Okay, so that part wasn't really funny.
It was downright laughable that some people thought they could make their bodies shutting down feel more peaceful than it already was, but for some reason Tsukuyomi couldn't bring herself to laugh about thinking of loved ones anymore. It seemed… wrong.
A few years ago, it still would have been funny, but things had—changed since then.
No one ever held on to their supposedly indomitable will on that last heartbeat; that was what made their eyes darken. In that final moment, they understood that it was finally the end.
So they gave up.
It was a very special moment, and with the best victims, she was the only one who would ever see that weakness in them. In that one moment, they truly surrendered the fight to her. And it would only ever happen once.
For months now (longer if she wanted to be picky, but in the beginning, it wasn't personal), she'd only wanted to share that moment with one person.
The person who, if there hadn't been any outside interference, she would have died thinking of.
Romanticism had never really been Tsukuyomi's forte. To think of things like that and not have it be silly, didn't it have to be focused around something—someone—you cared about for longer than a couple of seconds?
…Of course, that explained things rather neatly.
Sakurazaki Setsuna wasn't just a passing interest—she'd managed to completely capture Tsukuyomi's attention.
So maybe her last thoughts—which ended up not being her last thoughts at all—being so sappy wasn't that strange. Setsuna always managed to make things special and different.
And confusing. Very, very confusing.
Now that Tsukuyomi wasn't dying or in a hospital bed brooding about how she should have died, she was starting to wonder why one of her many supposedly-final thoughts about Setsuna had contained so much relief.
At the very end of it, after they both fought a battle they could be proud of, Tsukuyomi had been overwhelmed with happiness because—
Setsuna was still alive.
That apparently counted for a lot.
Confusing. For as long as they'd been fighting, Tsukuyomi had wanted to have a part in Setsuna's death. Even during their final fight, she'd wanted to kill the half-demon. Badly. She'd wanted the thrill that came with killing to join with the delight she felt around Setsuna.
She didn't think there could be any doubt that that would have given her pleasure unlike anything she'd ever known. Her fantasies had only ever given her a small taste when it came to imagining killing Setsuna.
And then Setsuna lived, and she'd been about to die, and… Tsukuyomi had decided to be happy about that turn of events for no particular reason that she could figure out. The lovely view of the blood dripping down Setsuna's arm shouldn't have been enough to cause that level of euphoria, right? Killing was what was fun. She'd always been under the impression that dying was significantly less fun.
But Setsuna was alive. Maybe that had something to do with it. Life could be fun sometimes too, even if it was a little dull without death somewhere in the mix.
It wasn't like they didn't have time to figure things out. Tsukuyomi thought it might just be confusing Setsuna too. They could work it out together.
After all, weren't roommates supposed to help each other with strange things like feelings?