Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kubo-sensei. I write this purely for entertainment purposes.
Spoilers: Manga 404, 405
Summary: There is no stopping her.
Word Count: 385
She was starting to sweat. She felt like she had run a marathon yet she was merely pacing herself—a quick hobble, a sharp pain emitting from her right side. She had heard Kira cry her name, cry for her to stop, but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. If she stopped the pain would increase and the emotional turmoil of the last couple months would remain, stagnant as ever. This was her last chance to confront him and she’d be damned if she allowed him to stop her, anyone to stop her.
A loud whooshing sound began in her left ear, in a rhythm similar to her heartbeat. She had dreamt—had nightmares—of meeting him again face to face. An unerring frown would replace his usual enigmatic smile, and there were no misconceptions left between them as she’d watch him squint at her, revealing a comforting smidge of blue. Oh, how she dreamt often of those eyes zeroing in on her. Did not matter if there was negativity, positivity, or neutrality shown within them, as long as she could see just a score of those icy blues her heart remained whole. But slowly her happiness would dissipate and the world turned dark. The dream would spiral and blood would splatter. She would be back right where she started, questioning where he was going as spilled blood coagulated. He would simply turn to her, catch her frightened eyes, and then walk away from her. What began in triumph ended in defeat, hope slashed like her skin. She’d wake with her face wet and the loud whooshing sound of her heart in her ears, much like it was now.
She held no delusions as to the likely outcome of this battle. She confronted the possibility of death each time she fell asleep, and as she urged herself to go faster memories flashed before her tearful eyes and her heart only ached further. Her legs burned, lactic acid increasing with each step, but she would not stop. She would either die by his hand or from the almost crippling wound she’d sustained earlier. Neither were a great option but she could hardly muster the strength to care. She needed to get to him, confront him, and end this never-ending, sadistic cycle they’d begun. Maybe then she’d be free.
Cross-posted to ginran.