Suffer

Mar. 5th, 2012 11:02 pm[personal profile] azi posting in [community profile] themutedscarp
azi: Keep Calm and Appeal to a Supervisor. (Alliance/Union - Cyteen - Azi II)
Title: Suffer
Writing Date: 2008
Rating: PG, perhaps a little bit higher.
Warnings: A little bit of blood, really mild profanity.
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing/Characters: One-sided Neliel/Nnoitra if you read between the lines.
Summary: At every opportunity, he’d fight her and lose miserably. He’d aimed every swing at her with vicious seriousness and had fought as though his wretched life depended on it. Each guttural cry of exertion that tore from his throat had been meant and every spark that danced between their clashing blades had been a blocked blow intended for her skin to take.

She’d beaten him again. Each and every time he’d challenged her, that bitch, he’d come away from it broken, bleeding and angry.

He growled from between clenched teeth at the retreating back of the victor.

“Where the hell do ya think you’re going!?” He spat the words out. Blood and saliva dripped from his lips and stained his teeth red.

“You cannot win, I have told you before.” Neliel’s words were succinct and honest. “Give up.”

She didn’t lie to him. She never lied to him. She told him the truth after each one of their battles and every single time she’d told him that he could not possibly beat her, that it was a completely unattainable goal, she’d been sure that the next inevitable battle would have the same outcome.

At every opportunity, he’d fight her and lose miserably. He’d aimed every swing at her with vicious seriousness and had fought as though his wretched life depended on it. Each guttural cry of exertion that tore from his throat had been meant and every spark that danced between their clashing blades had been a blocked blow intended for her skin to take.

She didn’t even so much as humour him. She fought back against the bad tempered acts of violence with a gentle grace and only ever retaliated to put an end to yet another pointless, one sided brawl. She didn’t glean any joy from cutting into him or sending him sprawling into the sand while a bloody mist went up; it was just par for the course.

Her punishment to him for having to make the small effort of striking back came in the form of a refusal to end his life. It was a fate worse than death for a man like Nnoitra, which was why she did it over and over again. It was humiliating and it chipped away at his spirit little by little.

She hoped that eventually he would just stop trying.

The tell-tale jangling of bangles and chains made her stop in her tracks. A glance over her shoulder told her that he had pulled himself up and to his feet and she could see that he had a hand covering the newest wound she’d inflicted. The latest in a long line of them.

Nnoitra didn’t even as much as glance down at the red stain that was blossoming across his uniform; he didn’t need to. He’d seen it enough times before.

“Why don’t you ever fucking finish it!?” His high, grating voice rose in a rasping, desperate growl.

Neliel turned to him properly, kicking up a cloud of pale sand as she did. She didn’t even have a cautionary hand on the hilt of her sword any more. “Why would I bother?”

Nnoitra’s single eye widened and then quickly narrowed to a dangerous slit as he bared his teeth.

“To prove that you won.” It was a low snarl of a reply.

“You are proof enough of that.” Her words were measured and gentle despite the obvious scorn she’d woven into them.

Nnoitra leant heavily on the pole of Santa Teresa and directed a burning glare at the Third Espada. His irritation and frustration was evident in everything from his rapid breathing and the furious look on his face to the tense way in which he held himself.

“Draw your weapon!” It was a shouted command.

“I will not.” Was the terse reply.

“Draw it, damn you!”

He ran at her, hefting the huge, crescent shaped sword with a little bit more effort than it usually took. He swung for her pale throat, truly looking to win this time, but Neliel stepped back easily. It wasn’t an arc of shining silver that streaked across the sky and met his blade. Instead she had caught his wrist in an iron grip altogether too strong to suit her slight, feminine form.

“I have told you to give up,” There was a trace of boredness there when she spoke.

Nnoitra’s only response was a wordless growl. He tried to pull away from her as he held contact with those impassive brown eyes. He could tell that she was almost daring him to try again. He wanted to try again.

“I have had quite enough of your rubbish for today. I’m going home.” She pushed him back using his own arm as a brace.

A brief moment of silence hung between them before she turned and started to walk away.

“Wait!” Desperation tainted the single, barked word.

Neliel stopped again and closed her eyes. She allowed a soft, stiff sigh to escape her lips as she waited for him to speak again. He was being unusually persistant.

“Draw! Draw now!” It was a bratty, childish demand.

“No.” Her answer didn’t change. It never changed.

“Pull your sword, woman! Lets fini-”

He was knocked into silence when a blunt object caught him on the left side of the face. Nel had slapped him. The fact that her fingers were tingling because they had caught the hard side of his covered mask fragment didn’t show in her expression. Nnoitra reeled, but managed to stay on his feet.

“I do not need to sully my blade with your blood again today.” There was a sharp edge to her words that Nnoitra hadn’t heard before. "Once is enough."

“Don’t you dare think you can get away with fighting me una-”

Her fist collided with his mouth. He bit back a yelp of pain and surprise as he felt the skin of his thin lips split under the force of the blow. She didn’t give him time to recover from the stinging in his face before she landed a hard, flat-footed kick to his gut. He sank heavily to his knees as a result, winded.

“I won’t tell you again.” Her eyes had lost their usual softness. She was serious this time.

Nnoitra’s brow furrowed when he felt her gloved fingers in his hair and he released a soft noise of pain when she yanked him upwards and to eye level with it.

“You will never win.”

“Watch me. One day I’ll beat you, you bitch. You’ll regret ever tau-”

“We’ll see.” She cut him off mid tirade.

She would never be freed from fighting him for as long as they both remained Espada, she knew that. She would still refuse to kill him after every battle and she would always say no to ending it once and for all. She didn't need to kill him to prove that she'd won, to prove to him that she was stronger. His breaking psyche and lingering anger was more than enough evidence of her victory over his pathetic loss. All he wanted was to die a warrior’s death; all he needed was to have the thrill of battle and that incomparable high brought to a swift, unexpected end by the blade of a powerful opponent.

Neliel knew it, but would never be the one to deliver it.

She wanted him to have to endure each hard loss and the misery of it over and over, like she bore the burden of having to cut him down time after time. She wanted him to suffer the pain and anguish of having to accept an end he hated, like she did.

She wanted him to suffer, so that she didn't have to do it alone.
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Several days after the Archadian invasion, a terrible explosion reduced the once proud city of Nabudis to naught but rubble. Though the city fell in the space of a night, the Mist that now swirls where it once stood has transformed the land into a barren waste for eternity. Even now, the cause of this cataclysm is not fully understood.

-Sage Knowledge 03

March 2012

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