Taking Wing
folder
Gundam Wing/AC › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
498
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Gundam Wing/AC › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
498
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Cutting Nothing
The lights burned down on him. The warmth was heavy in the air, even as it was cut. Clean, that cut. Strong and sure. The blade flashed brightly in the show lights, sluicing through the air to land beside him. The solid impact reverberated in his ears, a soft flow of cut air caressing his cheek.
Once committed, one cannot move from the chosen path. One must finish the cut.
The target at his back had the odd ability to force the small blades to vibrate overly long. Reflected light flashed in his eyes.
A clean cut is a painless cut. Do not prolong the fight by being indecisive. Cut.
His sometimes sister flashed the remaining knives at the audience. He focused on the dazzling glare from the polish. She could capture and ensnare a full audience with minimal movement. He could make them afraid and anxious and a full slew of other high-strung emotions with no movement at all. Triple impacts forced him to resume the spectacle. Spread arms brushed over the sharp blades. Fingers fondly pulling them out and slipping them away in various sheaths. Arms snapping out again as he turned to bow. A dark shadow slipped from his hand.
The final cut. The ultimate end of the first. To begin one cut is to commit and to commit is to finish the last cut.
The darkened blade did not flash as gaudily as the show blades he tossed to his partner. Others were clearing the platform. Yet others were clearing the assassinated assassin. A wire pulled him up. Tightrope vibrating before him.
Balance can be key to the cut. The battle is determined on a single line of movement. The cut must be razor clean and precise. This is life. This is death. Now … Cut.
Once committed, one cannot move from the chosen path. One must finish the cut.
The target at his back had the odd ability to force the small blades to vibrate overly long. Reflected light flashed in his eyes.
A clean cut is a painless cut. Do not prolong the fight by being indecisive. Cut.
His sometimes sister flashed the remaining knives at the audience. He focused on the dazzling glare from the polish. She could capture and ensnare a full audience with minimal movement. He could make them afraid and anxious and a full slew of other high-strung emotions with no movement at all. Triple impacts forced him to resume the spectacle. Spread arms brushed over the sharp blades. Fingers fondly pulling them out and slipping them away in various sheaths. Arms snapping out again as he turned to bow. A dark shadow slipped from his hand.
The final cut. The ultimate end of the first. To begin one cut is to commit and to commit is to finish the last cut.
The darkened blade did not flash as gaudily as the show blades he tossed to his partner. Others were clearing the platform. Yet others were clearing the assassinated assassin. A wire pulled him up. Tightrope vibrating before him.
Balance can be key to the cut. The battle is determined on a single line of movement. The cut must be razor clean and precise. This is life. This is death. Now … Cut.