kaito sends this to maki saihara and kaede
Watching her precise movements, as she showed him the very same knife… hiding beneath her shirt—proving herself to never be unarmed—as it could be foolish for an assassin. It didn’t surprise him, not now.
“… I see.” He gripped it tighter in his hands, avoiding watching the brunette holding the very same knife he held—how did she manage? How did she know how to use this? They really were different in many regards… but that difference only made him more curious. Made him want to learn more. Learn more about this assassin who stood so confidently, knife in hand. Knife that killed. “But you don’t have to use it anymore. It’s in the past. If you leave them in here, they won’t try to find you, Harumaki. Only you can come to get them.”
The self-assured astronaut (trainee) stopped averting his gaze, instead directing it into her eyes. The eyes glancing toward the knife… eyes that could stop, look away, never to see that knife… ever again. It could be possible. It could.
“You could leave it.”
her face was impossible to read. no movement, no sound, no change in expression. —– only that constant sardonic gaze, caked in blood, watching and waiting. his words weren’t foreign to her ears, in fact she’d thought about it. leaving. —– but her shoulders lay heavy with burden and her face is wrinkled with experiences no high - school girl should know. but, it was all she knew.
‘ and do what ? ‘ she looked him dead in the face, knife still in hand. these grooves were familiar to her, this weapon —- it felt right. she had no family, no friends, only her knife. and maybe that was good enough for her.
‘ this is all i’m good at —- and it is what i’ve been told to do. i shouldn’t want anything else. i’m alive, and that’s all that matters. ‘
chapter 5
❤️ e ye emoji
lovefool / accepting !
o’ oleander —– beautiful in appearance, but soon, they will choke at the presence of you. you will close their lungs and fill them with such a noxious gas. you are not the insignia of the funeral, but, instead, the origin. you will soon break his heart and crush it beneath your fingers, blood stained hands befitting of such a devil girl. she felt as if a tool for others to toy with, as if her feelings were something easily manipulated. were these lips meant to be kissed like these eyes were made to kill ? her mouth pulsed and burned, allergic to this illegal touch —- she should heed it, she should listen. these instincts she relied on in battle, they let her mind die and corrode inside this cursed skull. but, this —- fingers that had sent knives into now lifeless bodies now grip his collar, a hold that was locked in place. yet, her fingers, why do they still shake ? she didn’t let him see her eyes. red irises filled with tentative emotion. uncertainty. she didn’t trust him with this information. she just wanted it out, she wanted it gone. her lips crashed upon his, like waves tousled by astral forces. violent. mad. passionate. wipe her memories clean and let her be reborn anew. let her wake up a better person. she kissed him until she was out of breath, and then a few more moments after that. voraciously, she let him free. claws sated and fresh were the marks on his neck. palms pushed him off of her, and she rose to her feet. towering above him like death itself. ‘ and i’m not the forgiving type. ‘ kaito thinks he can kiss whoever he wants. she hoped he’d rot.
“Why?”
A simple response to her answer. It was clear she didn’t intend to look him in the eyes, as she continued to avert his gaze—staring at the weapons present in the room… it made him wonder what was going through her mind as she spoke those words. What Maki thought about on a daily basis. If they could swap thoughts, what would happen?
Continuing to hold the weapon—a knife he had no idea how to wield—he moved it closer towards his chest. Analyzing it, contemplating on how dangerous it was… and these were items Maki found herself to be familiar with. A knife like this, if used correctly, could kill someone nearly instantaneously. What a frighteningly skillful thing. Maki was that—she was terrifyingly artful in her craft… work of assassination. But she didn’t need to be, did she? That wasn’t her—didn’t need to be. She could leave it behind… Kaito thought childcare suited someone like her more. A fake talent—fake innocence.
“Harumaki, have you… used this knife before?” A tight grip, as to make sure not to drop it… he continued staring at her—refusing to turn. Even if she wouldn’t look him in the eyes, he had no reason not to be looking at her. At the girl in front of him, the girl he knew as only Maki Harukawa. Not an assassin, not a killer.
her gaze shifted. not to him, but towards the knife. a slow nod moved her chin as she produced that same model, that same weapon, from underneath her shirt. maybe the ridges made it uncomfortable, but —– nothing felt more restraining than an unarmed woman.
fingers didn’t quite fit in the slots, as this was made for a much stronger, much more hardened criminal. not a little girl pretending to act like she knows the good of this world. ( newsflash ! she doesn’t. and she never will. ) oh, but these calloused knuckles and adolescent hands make for a strong grip. later, there’d be a shadow of this handle etched into her flesh with red markings.
‘ yeah. ‘ her eyes caught onto the blade of her own now, edge serrated and glistening as she twisted it in the light above. ‘ it’s —– one of my favorites. ‘
That was true. Kaito didn’t have to find himself recurrently walking inside her lab—seeing the brunette, serious-minded—as if she had a duty to stand inside no matter what. As if it were her problem, as no one else’s. As if she couldn’t stand to make it someone else’s problem. But if she didn’t bring it up, never said anything… how could anyone know? How could anyone be expected to tell what she was feeling? See, this is where Kaito would have to use his most prized ‘something’… a something he trusted more than anything—anything in the world. His intuition. That intuition inside him told him that Maki was feeling tired, tired of not just this killing game… but…
A heavy exhalation leaving his lips, he stretched theatrically and walked around inside the Assassin’s lab. “… Are you…” His sentence was stopped, as he picked up a weapon. It was… a knife, perhaps? A multi-purpose knife? He didn’t really know, he just saw it and decided he was curious enough to hold it in his hands. Perhaps the curiosity settled inside humans is what concerned Maki. “… you’re guarding this room.”
The words he spoke were assured, like he had a zero probability of being wrong. Truthfully, he wasn’t. Which was… the worst part. The assassin had a nearly unhealthy amount of obligation to make sure these weapons wouldn’t turn up in the wrong hands—yes, but… was that it? Perhaps there was more to the story. This room… had to also have been familiar. Kaito didn’t like to consider it. After all, when he stared into her eyes, it wasn’t like he was looking into the eye’s of someone cold-blooded. What he saw in those eyes—was someone in need of support.
“It’ll be fine if you leave it for a bit. Come on, you need to get out of here, seriously. It’s… not a good idea to stay in a place like this for so long.” A place filled with weapons—a place meant for an assassin to carry out her responsibility. “It’ll be fine.”
The darkness under her eyes… in her eyes. It worried him—she needed fresh air. Away from the atmosphere of killing.
she wanted to agree to his terms —- how badly did she want to escape with him to a place where she didn’t have to remember. a place where she wouldn’t be left with the harrowing memories that dared to haunt her forever. BUT THIS WAS NO FAIRY TALE. he may be a prince, but she was no princess.
the type of knife he held — bc - 41. a close quarters combat knife. one of her favorites. it was easy to wield, and the knuckles on it made for a strong punch. she almost wanted to take it from him —- he shouldn’t ever have to handle such a weapon, even if only out of ( such wretched ) curiosity. these were meant for the damned, but, he. —- he had a bright future.
‘ if you want to talk, we can talk in here. ‘ she isn’t looking at him. she’s scared of those violet eyes. those eyes that made her feel as clear as glass. as if he could see through everything she was hiding. he wasn’t going to win this time.
“You don’t have to come in here, y’know.”
Walking inside the Super High School Level Assassin’s lab, he knew he would find Maki inside. She had been frequenting the room as of lately, and Kaito had been (much to her chagrin) finding himself doing the same merely because she was present. If she wasn’t there… then he’d have no reason to visit. But it had to make him wonder why she persisted. He had an idea.
Was she… guarding it? Making sure no one came in? So that no one would be able to take these surplus of weapons—use them for the inevitable…
But it didn’t have to be all up to her. It wasn’t her responsibility, was it? She made it so.
“… Harumaki, you look tired.”
A comment she surely wouldn’t appreciate but, nonetheless, held truth.
she didn’t have to. he was right. she didn’t have to spend her days cooped up in her lab. but —- she chose to. ever since her true talent was discovered, she found herself frequenting this room. ( this cursed room ) the room that kept her prisoner, that jailed her memories, that caused her to remember instead of forget.
there wasn’t a single reason why she kept herself chained to this place, but a handful of importances that she thought she should have. part of it was protection, but, not in the most noble sense of the word. inside these four walls contained deeper secrets, hidden clues toward her old self —- more of which she would carry to her grave. part of it was familiarity. a strange sense of nostalgia she felt when she traced her finger around the serrated blades, the comfort she felt when alone with prospects of her former self. she didn’t like them —- but they were something. they were something that made her feel, something that made such a stoic girl feel emotions she was told not to harbor. emotions that made her weak. but, alone in this prison, she was vulnerable.
yes, she was tired. she hadn’t been sleeping — when her eyes closed her mind whirred, and flipped through memories like an old photo book. one that was silenced and locked away, since her’s was a wicked existence and there were no things of such significance that could distance her from her work. but, here —- these worries were obsolete, there was nothing to be done. and years of distractions have caught up to her. she was chained to these walls, trapped in this room. and, this, she would carry with her until her heart would stop.
‘ you don’t have to come here, either. ‘ crimson eyes focused on him, like a killer would stalk her prey. tired eyes. aged eyes. eyes that never learned to cry. and her words echoed with such conviction, she’d hoped he wouldn’t notice the missing hairs, the grey underneath those stagnant hues. oh how she dreamt —- this would hurt a lot less.
“so… did you miss me?”
five word prompts / accepting !
‘ n - no ! ‘ words spilt from her lips as color rushed to her face. albeit defensively, taken off guard from his bizarre line of questioning. she told herself she wouldn’t let him affect her —– that he’d be ignored. but her cheeks burned of a fiery red, similar to those oh so scarlet hues that plagued her eyes.
her eyelids closed, as if to avoid his mocking gaze. he didn’t care. he didn’t care. he didn’t care. he didn’t care. he didn’t care. he didn’t care. he didn’t care. ( so why did she ? )
