Categories > Anime/Manga > Saiyuki > four things
knife's edge
This is a knife. Only an ordinary blade, you see, forged by a man of no exceptional talent, and sold to another ordinary man who kept it on display in his house. A useless thing. But it is sharp, very sharp. Here is the edge.
Sharp enough to cut through skin, don't you think? Then the subcutaneous fat beneath it, and the veins and muscles running along white bones. Perhaps not sharp enough to cut bone, but once the blade has passed through flesh, who needs to break bones then? It is a simple matter to slip it between the ribs, through an eye, or thrust up into the soft belly filled with slick organs. If you are fast, your hand sure and steady, you could pull it across the throat where the windpipe and pulsing arteries are. That too will be effective.
Sharp enough to sever the individual filaments in fate as well, so quick and precise the other threads will never notice until it is their turn to fall free, and flutter aimlessly while the tapestry itself remains, and the image will be unutterably altered by this. Sharp enough to sever reality, is it not? Look, here is a man. He is human. And then he is not.
This is a knife. Only an ordinary blade, you see, forged by a man of no exceptional talent, and sold to another ordinary man who kept it on display in his house. A useless thing. But it is sharp, very sharp. Here is the edge.
Sharp enough to cut through skin, don't you think? Then the subcutaneous fat beneath it, and the veins and muscles running along white bones. Perhaps not sharp enough to cut bone, but once the blade has passed through flesh, who needs to break bones then? It is a simple matter to slip it between the ribs, through an eye, or thrust up into the soft belly filled with slick organs. If you are fast, your hand sure and steady, you could pull it across the throat where the windpipe and pulsing arteries are. That too will be effective.
Sharp enough to sever the individual filaments in fate as well, so quick and precise the other threads will never notice until it is their turn to fall free, and flutter aimlessly while the tapestry itself remains, and the image will be unutterably altered by this. Sharp enough to sever reality, is it not? Look, here is a man. He is human. And then he is not.
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