#( ᴍᴇʀᴄɪʟᴇss ) ᴍɪʜᴀᴡᴋ

[destrezam]

DRABBLE | ⚘

𝕾𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘 𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖍.

Sparks fly with every GREETING of these legendary blades, a swift ‘ soon ’ ringing out with each collision. Soon. Almost there. Too long have they been at this, days on days with no end in sight. The final battle. The last fight. Just their blood, and sweat, and one other. 

This is what it was all for. He has waited years for this day, TOILED in wretched boredom and miserable disappointment. So long ago was it that he won this throne, that he sat upon it. Untouchable. ‘ The Strongest Swordsman ’ they called him. They challenged him. They lost. 

It was boring. Always so repetitive in their challenges. Declarations always the same, ideals faulty. Until him. RORONOA ZORO.  A boy who had stood before him, arms wide as he accepted his defeat and death. 

                                                ‘ A scar on the back is a swordsman’s shame. ’ 

                 ‘  ---- However long it may take, I shall await you at the top. ’

At the top. That is where they are now, facing down for the final time. It’s almost over now. The once lively area has become a wasteland. Flattened with power, a plain of DEATH.

When all is said and done, there would be only one.

Again and again and AGAIN they met each other, just pure swordsmanship. With each strike of a blade to a blade the heavens would part above them and the ocean would brew a storm.

This island would not survive.

Sweat tinged red with blood, bodies so far beyond exhausted that PAIN no longer registered and yet they kept pushing. Pushing and PUSHING. One would give in the end, but he would not relinquish his throne so easily. Even to HIM. 

It’s been so long now though. Weakened from the loss of blood, from the lack of nutrition, of dehydration - who would fall first? 

Hard. It was hard now to keep going. His body is too far gone. His vision obscured by blood, blackening around the edges with every moment that passes. He is barely recognizable beneath the injuries that dress him.

‘ Not yet - not yet - NOT YET.. Have to keep going. Just a little more. Allow me to -- to face this boy. This man. Allow me to have the battle of a life time.’ PRIDE and JOY comes bursting through every cut made on his body.

Just a little more.

Hold on. Hold on. Hold ---

Until he can no longer.

One final blow and Yoru is GONE. One final blow and a sword is BURIED. Piercing him through. He does not feel it, but he can no longer move. Stuck here on this blade, his feet will not guide him any longer.

He would not survive this.

Focus. Focus now, and he finds himself staring into his opponents face, the steel and metal clearing from their gazes as the battle draws to an END. 

Defeated.

It took everything, but he is defeated. There are NO REGRETS here. Liquid iron bursts on his tongue, his life spilling past split lips. A grin.

I knew you would do it.

 There was no doubt.

I am proud of you.

I am sorry.

No words are spoken. No words can be spoken, the exhaustion is too much. Instead a broken hand comes to rest on the younger’s, wrapping around the hilt of the sword that held him SKEWERED. He steps forward as best he can, bringing the other up to the back of Zoro’s head, pushing and then they meet. Foreheads pressed against each other, the only sound now is the labored breathing between them. 

Thank you.

Finally a burst of pain as the adrenaline wears away. The blade is gone. His body drops.

Goodbye.

@goldenscar

[destrezam]

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