Chapter Text
You cough, blood splattering out and staining your teeth with red. Your vision was blurry as you braced yourself against the wall of the damp alleyway, now occupied with the sound of metal hitting flesh ringing through. You felt nauseous, making sure to close your eyes to scene in front of you.
“Now…”
Thwack .
“Are you...”
Thwack.
“ regretting this ?”
Hearing no answer yourself, you figured the man was no longer conscious. You cough again weakly, your hands now finding the rough gravel of the ground as you slid down against the bricks of the building.
You wanted to tell Ichimatsu it was enough, it's done now, but you were a little afraid to at this point. You struggled slightly with finding the strength to want to open your mouth, eventually letting out a weak plea.
“...huh? You want me to stop? ...After what he's done to you?” You heard the growing anger in his voice, not entirely sure if was directed at the man lying motionless on the ground or now, at you. You could tell he's taken to glaring at you instead of his self designated task at hand, no longer hearing the sickly sound of his weapon.
A few moments of silence pass between the two of you until you hear the thud of the bat falling to the ground.
You hear the shuffling of his sandals against the dirt, presumably making his way towards you. You open your eyes to find yourself staring right into his own, expression unreadable.
“...Can you walk?”
You shrug. You couldn't find the strength to reply. You soon felt Ichimatsu’s rough hands on you, finding yourself being gently lifted up into his arms and making his way out of the dingy side street.
He spoke up after a few moments, anger seemingly subsided.
“I wasn't there… for you.” You move your hands to grasp lightly at his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him.
“...’m trash.”
You aren't.
“Useless.”
No.
“Can't even keep you safe.”
It's not your fault.
“...why am I like this?”
Ichimatsu's voice had been reduced to a whisper now, barely audible even in the empty streets of the town.
Before you could tell him anything, you found yourself drifting off to sleep, the rapid thoughts in your head slowly coming to a standstill. The last thing you remembered before passing out was the familiar feeling of soft, pilled material against your fingers.