Categories > Anime/Manga > Weiss Kreuz > Run
So you've gone beyond your means,
Every wound is open,
Your best laid plans are out of reach,
And all your fears unspoken.
Nagi looked down into the face of his old friend. It hadn't taken much to convince him to get some sleep. The moment he had fallen into bed he was out. That was probably a good thing. Concern creased the younger man's brow as he took in the full measure of Schuldig's appearance.
What had to be deep tissue bruises were just starting to rise to the surface of his pale skin. Leaving mottled blue and purple marks all along his chest and side. His back was a thousand times worse. It was an almost solid sheet of black, especially across the shoulders. There were defense wounds all over his hands and arms. Four ribs were broken and another two cracked. One of the broken ribs had come dangerously close to puncturing a lung. There was evidence of a massive concussion but he seemed to be in control of his mental capabilities.
Shock filtered through Nagi's stunned mind. Schuldig had been on a plane with broken bones and internal bleeding. How had he survived that? He couldn't undo the bruises but he could heal the broken bones. Concentrating hard and seeing in his mind's eye the bones lace back together. He patched up the internal bleeding and sealed off the broken veins as best he could. Those would heal on their own given time. At least he would be able to sleep a bit more comfortably. What worried him most were the signs of repeated trauma to the bones and organs.
What the hell had happened? Nagi thought. Beyond the physical damage was the utterly exhausted and defeated feel of him, which was so unlike the Schuldig he knew that he barely recognized the sensation. He was broken. Not only his bones. It seemed there was very little left of the brilliant and flamboyant man he had once known. There were lines around his eyes and mouth that should not have been there for at least another fifteen years. Twenty seven was not an old man by any stretch of the imagination yet he felt so much older.
Nagi left the room and leaned against the door in the hallway. His hands tightened into fists. Someone was dead. Just as soon as he could lay hands or abilities on them. He'd make sure it was as slow and painful as he could possibly muster first. But without a doubt whoever had done this was a walking corpse.
Nagi?
Yes, Crawford.
Is he there with you?
Yes.
Keep him there.
I intend to.
I'll be on a plane in a few hours.
Did you see who did this?
He almost felt Crawford shake his head. No. For whatever reason, Schuldig is protecting their identity.
I know who it is, came a soft and deadly voice.
Farfarello, where are you?
A sibilant laughter reached into both of their minds.
Hunting.
Berserker, I want him brought to me alive.
If that is what you wish, Prodigy.
It's what I demand.
*****Author's Notes*****
The song at the beginning of the chapter is Broken Hearted by Eric Clapton.
Every wound is open,
Your best laid plans are out of reach,
And all your fears unspoken.
Nagi looked down into the face of his old friend. It hadn't taken much to convince him to get some sleep. The moment he had fallen into bed he was out. That was probably a good thing. Concern creased the younger man's brow as he took in the full measure of Schuldig's appearance.
What had to be deep tissue bruises were just starting to rise to the surface of his pale skin. Leaving mottled blue and purple marks all along his chest and side. His back was a thousand times worse. It was an almost solid sheet of black, especially across the shoulders. There were defense wounds all over his hands and arms. Four ribs were broken and another two cracked. One of the broken ribs had come dangerously close to puncturing a lung. There was evidence of a massive concussion but he seemed to be in control of his mental capabilities.
Shock filtered through Nagi's stunned mind. Schuldig had been on a plane with broken bones and internal bleeding. How had he survived that? He couldn't undo the bruises but he could heal the broken bones. Concentrating hard and seeing in his mind's eye the bones lace back together. He patched up the internal bleeding and sealed off the broken veins as best he could. Those would heal on their own given time. At least he would be able to sleep a bit more comfortably. What worried him most were the signs of repeated trauma to the bones and organs.
What the hell had happened? Nagi thought. Beyond the physical damage was the utterly exhausted and defeated feel of him, which was so unlike the Schuldig he knew that he barely recognized the sensation. He was broken. Not only his bones. It seemed there was very little left of the brilliant and flamboyant man he had once known. There were lines around his eyes and mouth that should not have been there for at least another fifteen years. Twenty seven was not an old man by any stretch of the imagination yet he felt so much older.
Nagi left the room and leaned against the door in the hallway. His hands tightened into fists. Someone was dead. Just as soon as he could lay hands or abilities on them. He'd make sure it was as slow and painful as he could possibly muster first. But without a doubt whoever had done this was a walking corpse.
Nagi?
Yes, Crawford.
Is he there with you?
Yes.
Keep him there.
I intend to.
I'll be on a plane in a few hours.
Did you see who did this?
He almost felt Crawford shake his head. No. For whatever reason, Schuldig is protecting their identity.
I know who it is, came a soft and deadly voice.
Farfarello, where are you?
A sibilant laughter reached into both of their minds.
Hunting.
Berserker, I want him brought to me alive.
If that is what you wish, Prodigy.
It's what I demand.
*****Author's Notes*****
The song at the beginning of the chapter is Broken Hearted by Eric Clapton.
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