dedication: to Les & Olivia.
notes: there is only so much angst I can pump out in a night before I start to get ridiculous. I am getting very close to that point. If this turns into gibberish somewhere along the line, you know what happened.
title: gunmetal ringing
summary: The world still moves on. — Yukio/Shura.
It was a clash of wills and knives and Yukio's glasses hit the floor and shattered into a thousand million pieces and they both jumped back. Shura grinned like pain and Yukio ground his teeth, a sound audible even over laboured breathing and their combined rage.
"C'mon, Scaredy! I remember ya were better'n this, th' last time we fought! Wha'happened?"
Yukio made an incoherent sound at the back of his throat that might have been mistaken for a growl or maybe a sob, but Shura couldn't tell—and she didn't really want to know. There weren't many things that could rile Yukio to this level. Incoherence was her thing; she was the drunk and the mess and the one who stumbled out of bars in the middle of the night, giggling like there was no tomorrow.
And Scaredy… well, Scaredy was Scaredy.
There wasn't really all that much to say beyond that.
Metal sparked against metal, and Yukio was almost crying. Shura would have knocked him off his feet, but the wind went out of her lungs, and he kicked her feet out from under her and trapped her against the floor.
He breathed against her throat.
She could hear the pound of his heart.
Shura was almost concerned.
"Oi," she said softly. "You okay in there?"
"No. Yes. No. Otou-san is dead."
Shura had been expecting something like this if only because Yukio was shit at controlling himself; even when everyone else thought he knew what he was doing, the truth was, he really didn't. Shura probably knew that better than anyone else.
"C'mon, Scaredy. Breathe. S'ok, y'know? S'ok. M'right here."
"Don't go anywhere. Don't die."
Shura sighed, soft and long. "Ya should know by now, Scaredy. Nothin's gonna kill me."
He nodded into her shoulder, lips pressing there in an almost kiss. Harsh was more to her taste, but—it was hard. And he was still just a kid. She pushed him off long enough to breathe, and then dove back in.
She'd kissed him before, but never like this.
It was drowning and burning, the air chocking at the top of her windpipe—asphyxiation and aneurysms and the world exploding behind her eyes. Shura felt like carnage and blood lust, even, couldn't quite match to this.
He was clumsy and depressed, and the sob that escaped his throat was half desperation, half want.
And he was so very, very sad.
Shura held him until he'd cried himself out.
"Sorry," he muttered.
Shura looked very far away. "Don' worry about it, Scaredy," she whispered softly. And then "C'mon. Again."
Shura almost smiled, hiking Kusanagi up to guard.
That was her Scaredy-Cat Four-Eyes.