Jae and Fiyori were on the same page, at least. To a point. She acted like she was having the time of her life, like she was exhilarated at the thought of a knock-down, drag out fight with nothing but fists and teeth and fury.
But he'd had enough of that by now, and he was through playing by anyone else's rules.
Nobody ever got it when he tried to tell them that he wasn't fighting for the same thing they were. And even now, deep deep down inside, there was still the part of him that balked with terror at the prospect of dying and what waited for him after.
But god, living with all of this would be worse. Jae didn't really care what happened to whoever was left after he was gone; making sure that Fiyori wasn't that person was ideal, but in a pinch...
Well, he'd burn that bridge when he got to it. It was coming up soon, no matter what happened.
Braced on his good knee and forearms, one hand occupied with gripping the knife and the other hand useless, Jae wasn't sure he could stand properly. The shock and clarity brought on by Fiyori's initial attack was fading now and the static was trickling back in along with the exhaustion and pain.
The sloping edge of the roof was just behind Fiyori.
Maybe he wouldn't need to stand to meet her challenge.
Jae clawed into his last reserves of strength and rose, throwing himself towards Fiyori again, reaching out towards her for another embrace with the blade at the ready.
Rivers in the Desert
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Rude.
But maybe for the best. Fiyori was getting into a groove with the whole hating Min-Jae thing. Didn't want to lose that just 'cause for a moment he was being friendly or whatever.
"Never bring a knife to a fist fi-"
Her smart-ass comment got interrupted quick enough. Impressive. Didn't think he'd be so fast. Well, didn't think that she'd be so fast on her feet either. Same kind, after all.
Jae's hand came closer. Too close for Fiyori to evade cleanly. She managed a half-step to the side, but the arm of Jae extended past Fiyori's side. His blade grazed her upper arm.
Scorned, she drove her fist into his throat.
But maybe for the best. Fiyori was getting into a groove with the whole hating Min-Jae thing. Didn't want to lose that just 'cause for a moment he was being friendly or whatever.
"Never bring a knife to a fist fi-"
Her smart-ass comment got interrupted quick enough. Impressive. Didn't think he'd be so fast. Well, didn't think that she'd be so fast on her feet either. Same kind, after all.
Jae's hand came closer. Too close for Fiyori to evade cleanly. She managed a half-step to the side, but the arm of Jae extended past Fiyori's side. His blade grazed her upper arm.
Scorned, she drove her fist into his throat.
Gervais Frans Lambotte 
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Fiyori met him halfway, stopping his forward momentum with her own. Unstoppable force meets immovable object. The blade caught, but not enough, and then Fiyori rocketed back with the blow to his throat.
Jae choked and sputtered, and Fiyori closed the distance between them before he could breathe again.
He couldn't draw back for another strike with her arms locking around him again.
Instead, he turned his wrist and drove the knife in just behind her left shoulder blade.
Jae choked and sputtered, and Fiyori closed the distance between them before he could breathe again.
He couldn't draw back for another strike with her arms locking around him again.
Instead, he turned his wrist and drove the knife in just behind her left shoulder blade.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Fiyori felt the blade getting rammed into her shoulder. She'd have screamed out of pain, but she didn't feel any pain. No, all she could feel turned into focus. A desire to see the man in front of her thrown into the nether.
She drew even closer. She drew him closer. Her free arm took hold of his back.
The hand on his throat traveled upwards, grasped for his chin and forced Jae to open his jaws.
His smell. Her smell. This retching smell. The water, be it in the air or on their skins. The blood, whoever caused it to spill. The knife in her shoulder. The Pain. All of these sensations. All of these impressions. All that existed in Fiyori's world turned into Min-Jae. There was just him. And her, and none between them.
Fiyori pushed her tongue against his.
She drew even closer. She drew him closer. Her free arm took hold of his back.
The hand on his throat traveled upwards, grasped for his chin and forced Jae to open his jaws.
His smell. Her smell. This retching smell. The water, be it in the air or on their skins. The blood, whoever caused it to spill. The knife in her shoulder. The Pain. All of these sensations. All of these impressions. All that existed in Fiyori's world turned into Min-Jae. There was just him. And her, and none between them.
Fiyori pushed her tongue against his.
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
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Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
For a moment there was nothing but static and shock, and then Jae was choking once more, this time on disgust and outrage.
He let go of the knife's handle, leaving it lodged in Fiyori's back as he instead tried to shove her off of him. He bit down hard and was minimally gratified to taste blood as they broke apart.
Fiyori looked viciously satisfied when he pulled back enough to see her, and then he saw nothing but stars and darkness as her fist slammed right between his eyes.
He let go of the knife's handle, leaving it lodged in Fiyori's back as he instead tried to shove her off of him. He bit down hard and was minimally gratified to taste blood as they broke apart.
Fiyori looked viciously satisfied when he pulled back enough to see her, and then he saw nothing but stars and darkness as her fist slammed right between his eyes.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
That was a hit. Fiyori mimicked a kissing face as Jae staggered back from her actual kiss. Blood trickled down from her lips. Jae didn't bite her tongue off or anything, but that was a good chomp. She couldn't deny that she liked it.
She used her right wrist to wipe the bit of blood from her chin, and in the next moment, rammed the elbow into his face.
She used her right wrist to wipe the bit of blood from her chin, and in the next moment, rammed the elbow into his face.
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
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Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
There was no time to recover from the first blow before the second drove home. Jae reeled back, almost recovered.
He pitched backwards and fell.
His back hit the roof tiles, knocking the wind out of him again.
Jae heard nothing but his ears ringing. He strained, tried to rise once more, and couldn't.
Barely a couple of minutes had passed, but the fight had been decided.
Jae was down.
He pitched backwards and fell.
His back hit the roof tiles, knocking the wind out of him again.
Jae heard nothing but his ears ringing. He strained, tried to rise once more, and couldn't.
Barely a couple of minutes had passed, but the fight had been decided.
Jae was down.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
...and Fiyori was still standing.
She reached for the handle of the knife. The sensation of the blade scratching around her flesh as she moved the muscles was an odd one. Odd enough to distract her from Jae for a moment, but either way she got it pulled out.
Fiyori briefly observed the blood-coated edge. Then, she threw it to the side.
Body against body, wasn't it? Just her and him. Quite romantic, though Jae didn't seem to like that. But he will wish she had just taken the knife and cut his throat. Fiyori was certain to make that true.
She already had a few inches on him. With Jae on the ground, Fiyori truly felt towering. More so than she ever did anywhere else in her life.
It was intuition, or instinct, or whatever, that told Fiyori to kick against his legs. And again. And again.
And again. Again. Again.
She kicked his legs, his arms, his torso. She aimed for his face even, but there she slipped and struck a puddle instead.
There was something that was supposed to make her feel good about this, but now that the fight was over, tormenting him felt strange again. Mechanical, even.
Now, there was more to her world than Min-Jae. A cold world. A brutal world. One she had not wanted. She took a look at Jae and turned her back to him.
"...'scuse me for a minute."
She reached for the handle of the knife. The sensation of the blade scratching around her flesh as she moved the muscles was an odd one. Odd enough to distract her from Jae for a moment, but either way she got it pulled out.
Fiyori briefly observed the blood-coated edge. Then, she threw it to the side.
Body against body, wasn't it? Just her and him. Quite romantic, though Jae didn't seem to like that. But he will wish she had just taken the knife and cut his throat. Fiyori was certain to make that true.
She already had a few inches on him. With Jae on the ground, Fiyori truly felt towering. More so than she ever did anywhere else in her life.
It was intuition, or instinct, or whatever, that told Fiyori to kick against his legs. And again. And again.
And again. Again. Again.
She kicked his legs, his arms, his torso. She aimed for his face even, but there she slipped and struck a puddle instead.
There was something that was supposed to make her feel good about this, but now that the fight was over, tormenting him felt strange again. Mechanical, even.
Now, there was more to her world than Min-Jae. A cold world. A brutal world. One she had not wanted. She took a look at Jae and turned her back to him.
"...'scuse me for a minute."
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
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Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
The rain was letting up; some rays of light were starting to break through the clouds which blanketed the island. It painted a different view to what Nate had seen before.
He had nowhere else to go, so he'd moved to a part of the roof as far from those two as he could find. There wasn't anything else to do, so he'd just sat down again, knees against chest, and started looking out.
For the first time in a long while, there wasn't much on his mind.
The island still looked as bad as ever, and he could still hear them in the distance, but he wasn't going to think about it anymore. Now that he was finished, all there really was to do was to run out the clock, whatever that meant.
He thought about his family again. He thought about the friends who hadn't come, the ones who were still alive. He hoped that they would be able to move on from this; it would be pretty terrible if they spent years and years mourning him.
He sighed. Gripped at the sleeves of Matt's jacket, found himself thinking about him again.
It was kind of weird, in a way. They hadn't known each other before this, and it was all over now. It was weird just how much Matt had meant to him, how much of a comfort his jacket still was. It didn't exactly smell like roses, after all, not after everything it'd been through.
He sighed again. It hadn't even been a few minutes, but he was getting impatient. Just because he was finished, didn't mean they were done.
Then again, the sounds of footsteps came up behind him, so maybe they were.
He opened his mouth to speak, not turning to look, not caring who stood behind him. He had to pause for a moment, because he wasn't sure what to say. In the end, curtness won out.
"Done already?"
He had nowhere else to go, so he'd moved to a part of the roof as far from those two as he could find. There wasn't anything else to do, so he'd just sat down again, knees against chest, and started looking out.
For the first time in a long while, there wasn't much on his mind.
The island still looked as bad as ever, and he could still hear them in the distance, but he wasn't going to think about it anymore. Now that he was finished, all there really was to do was to run out the clock, whatever that meant.
He thought about his family again. He thought about the friends who hadn't come, the ones who were still alive. He hoped that they would be able to move on from this; it would be pretty terrible if they spent years and years mourning him.
He sighed. Gripped at the sleeves of Matt's jacket, found himself thinking about him again.
It was kind of weird, in a way. They hadn't known each other before this, and it was all over now. It was weird just how much Matt had meant to him, how much of a comfort his jacket still was. It didn't exactly smell like roses, after all, not after everything it'd been through.
He sighed again. It hadn't even been a few minutes, but he was getting impatient. Just because he was finished, didn't mean they were done.
Then again, the sounds of footsteps came up behind him, so maybe they were.
He opened his mouth to speak, not turning to look, not caring who stood behind him. He had to pause for a moment, because he wasn't sure what to say. In the end, curtness won out.
"Done already?"
"Yes. I mean. No, I- not yet."
Not yet, she repeated under her breath. The sky had begun to clear. The rain had stopped. Was it lessening during her fight with Min-jae? Was it all of a sudden when she left for Nate? She didn't remember. Didn't know why it mattered anyway.
"Nate, I've..."
Fiyori collected her words, then lost them again. She took a few more steps towards Nate.
With the rain gone, Fiyori noticed how her wet clothes stuck to her skin. She wanted to rip them off. Yeah, she also noticed how her skin stuck to her person just as much. She wanted to rip it off. It wasn't to her liking, but Fiyori was starting to feel a bit fatigued.
She stumbled. Caught herself. Her vision went black for a second and returned, more clouded than before. Her breath became heavy. Yet, she managed to speak a few clear words.
"What is it then, that you want?"
Not yet, she repeated under her breath. The sky had begun to clear. The rain had stopped. Was it lessening during her fight with Min-jae? Was it all of a sudden when she left for Nate? She didn't remember. Didn't know why it mattered anyway.
"Nate, I've..."
Fiyori collected her words, then lost them again. She took a few more steps towards Nate.
With the rain gone, Fiyori noticed how her wet clothes stuck to her skin. She wanted to rip them off. Yeah, she also noticed how her skin stuck to her person just as much. She wanted to rip it off. It wasn't to her liking, but Fiyori was starting to feel a bit fatigued.
She stumbled. Caught herself. Her vision went black for a second and returned, more clouded than before. Her breath became heavy. Yet, she managed to speak a few clear words.
"What is it then, that you want?"
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
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Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Huh, so Fiyori had won. There you had it.
He leaned further into his knees. He still preferred to look forward than backwards.
What did he want? The words were insulting, and annoying.
"I told you, I'm done. No more questions."
He gripped his knees tighter, clenching his eyes shut. It had been almost nice, those few moments of being rid of them. He wasn't feeling good, but he was finally getting away from it. He wasn't going to give up on that, not now.
"I don't have anything to say to you. Get lost." He said it, but it felt, not wrong, but unnatural. Even when his biggest concern had been people making fun of him, billions of billions of years ago, he'd never been that blunt.
It took him a moment longer, but he spoke again. He almost said sorry.
"Can you just get it over with, already?"
Even if he had, he wouldn't have meant it.
He leaned further into his knees. He still preferred to look forward than backwards.
What did he want? The words were insulting, and annoying.
"I told you, I'm done. No more questions."
He gripped his knees tighter, clenching his eyes shut. It had been almost nice, those few moments of being rid of them. He wasn't feeling good, but he was finally getting away from it. He wasn't going to give up on that, not now.
"I don't have anything to say to you. Get lost." He said it, but it felt, not wrong, but unnatural. Even when his biggest concern had been people making fun of him, billions of billions of years ago, he'd never been that blunt.
It took him a moment longer, but he spoke again. He almost said sorry.
"Can you just get it over with, already?"
Even if he had, he wouldn't have meant it.
.
.
.
.
You brought this on yourself, you know.
...
It could have been over before it even began. All of it.
...
But no, you just had to say something. Had to make some kind of point.
Don't you know by now that the world is pointless?
...
Slowly but surely losing control of your body. Slowly but surely losing your mind.
That's all that you've got to show for trying to make a point that nobody cared to hear.
...
Coward.
Everything you've done, everything you promised yourself, and still...
...
Let her go.
Let them all go.
Just get it over with already.
The rain was stopping.
Fiyori had left him breathing once again. Just like in the kitchen.
That bitch.
Maybe she wasn't coming back. He could probably lay here for hours, waiting for his body to finally fail. Everything hurting until pain finally stopped meaning anything. Every person he met had chipped away some small part of him, piece by piece, but none of them were direct enough to just kill him in one fell swoop. Like they were taunting him for not doing it himself when the thought had first occurred to him.
Or maybe she would come back, and she would decide to take her time with finally ending it. That was what he most expected.
Every movement a slow agony, Jae shifted and turned over onto his stomach. His cheek rested against the cold, wet tile for a minute. Small ripples flitted across the water that had pooled near him as he breathed.
He couldn't get up. He had been right to think that the next time he went down would be the last.
He couldn't get up, but he could drag himself towards the edge of the rooftop, one grueling inch at a time.
Would she come back before he made it?
Maybe. Maybe.
Something red and wet nestled among the tiles. The knife again, still fresh with Fiyori's blood.
Almost within reach.
One edge or another, then.
If you can act in time.
.
.
.
You brought this on yourself, you know.
...
It could have been over before it even began. All of it.
...
But no, you just had to say something. Had to make some kind of point.
Don't you know by now that the world is pointless?
...
Slowly but surely losing control of your body. Slowly but surely losing your mind.
That's all that you've got to show for trying to make a point that nobody cared to hear.
...
Coward.
Everything you've done, everything you promised yourself, and still...
...
Let her go.
Let them all go.
Just get it over with already.
The rain was stopping.
Fiyori had left him breathing once again. Just like in the kitchen.
That bitch.
Maybe she wasn't coming back. He could probably lay here for hours, waiting for his body to finally fail. Everything hurting until pain finally stopped meaning anything. Every person he met had chipped away some small part of him, piece by piece, but none of them were direct enough to just kill him in one fell swoop. Like they were taunting him for not doing it himself when the thought had first occurred to him.
Or maybe she would come back, and she would decide to take her time with finally ending it. That was what he most expected.
Every movement a slow agony, Jae shifted and turned over onto his stomach. His cheek rested against the cold, wet tile for a minute. Small ripples flitted across the water that had pooled near him as he breathed.
He couldn't get up. He had been right to think that the next time he went down would be the last.
He couldn't get up, but he could drag himself towards the edge of the rooftop, one grueling inch at a time.
Would she come back before he made it?
Maybe. Maybe.
Something red and wet nestled among the tiles. The knife again, still fresh with Fiyori's blood.
Almost within reach.
One edge or another, then.
If you can act in time.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
His eyes went wide. Suddenly, panic. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe. What was happening?
He felt himself pulled up, lifted off the ground until it was just his feet kicking at the tiles. His hands shot for Fiyori's arm in desperation. They scratched at it, trying to get a hold, trying to stop her.
He couldn't swallow. He couldn't gasp. He could only feel her arm, pressing below the collar still round his neck, crushing his throat. It hurt. It really hurt.
He couldn't see her, was still just looking at the island he hated so much. It could be the last thing he ever saw, he realised, in the panic that was swallowing everything.
No, he wasn't ready for this. He wasn't. He couldn't be.
His fingers finally found a grip. He started to pull. He was in better shape than Fiyori. He was stronger.
He felt some give.
He felt himself pulled up, lifted off the ground until it was just his feet kicking at the tiles. His hands shot for Fiyori's arm in desperation. They scratched at it, trying to get a hold, trying to stop her.
He couldn't swallow. He couldn't gasp. He could only feel her arm, pressing below the collar still round his neck, crushing his throat. It hurt. It really hurt.
He couldn't see her, was still just looking at the island he hated so much. It could be the last thing he ever saw, he realised, in the panic that was swallowing everything.
No, he wasn't ready for this. He wasn't. He couldn't be.
His fingers finally found a grip. He started to pull. He was in better shape than Fiyori. He was stronger.
He felt some give.
To her surprise, she felt a pull from below. It seemed as if there was some sort of miscommunication between Fiyori and Nate. When he had been so gracious to listen to her rambling earlier, Fiyori had began to feel a sort of duty. Granted, a duty clouded by the fact that she was trying to destroy Min-jae, but a sense of gratitude nonetheless. Nate had listened. She wanted to listen too. And when he asked her to finish it, she basically listened, or?
Fiyori reaffirmed her hold around Nate's neck.
She was getting tired of it. Fuck the gratitude.
"What's the matter? I'm doing you the favor."
Fiyori reaffirmed her hold around Nate's neck.
She was getting tired of it. Fuck the gratitude.
"What's the matter? I'm doing you the favor."
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
A favour?
That's what this was?
There wasn't anything that would've made Nate madder than that.
He pulled her arm again. Got it to give way again. It was enough to breathe, but he wasn't thinking about that anymore. He wasn't thinking about anything.
He pulled his lips back, stretched his jaw, and sunk his teeth deep into Fiyori's arm. He bit down with all the strength he could muster, fuelled by her words and every last bit of anger he'd been carrying. His teeth tore their way through her flesh, with no shred of kindness, mercy, or sympathy.
He pressed downwards, inwards, tasting the blood and feeling his teeth hit the bone. He kept on biting, refusing to budge even an inch, as the blood filled his mouth, running down his chin.
It tasted disgusting, and he could still feel Fiyori pressing behind him, but damn it she wasn't doing him any favours, she wasn't going to get away with thinking that she was doing anything like that, she wasn't going to end it like this. He wasn't going to let her just get away with thinking that what she wanted to do was anything other than what it was.
There was nothing else that mattered, other than making sure she regretted it.
That's what this was?
There wasn't anything that would've made Nate madder than that.
He pulled her arm again. Got it to give way again. It was enough to breathe, but he wasn't thinking about that anymore. He wasn't thinking about anything.
He pulled his lips back, stretched his jaw, and sunk his teeth deep into Fiyori's arm. He bit down with all the strength he could muster, fuelled by her words and every last bit of anger he'd been carrying. His teeth tore their way through her flesh, with no shred of kindness, mercy, or sympathy.
He pressed downwards, inwards, tasting the blood and feeling his teeth hit the bone. He kept on biting, refusing to budge even an inch, as the blood filled his mouth, running down his chin.
It tasted disgusting, and he could still feel Fiyori pressing behind him, but damn it she wasn't doing him any favours, she wasn't going to get away with thinking that she was doing anything like that, she wasn't going to end it like this. He wasn't going to let her just get away with thinking that what she wanted to do was anything other than what it was.
There was nothing else that mattered, other than making sure she regretted it.