Challenge #13: Lending a Helping Hand
Title: The Longest Night
Author: jeva_chan
Size: 1,426 (damn...NEARLY got 1,412...) words
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: In the middle of a gun fight
In the center of a restaurant
They say, "Come out with your arms raised high."
Well, they're never gonna get me
Like a bullet through a flock of doves
To wage this war against your faith in me
Your life will never be the same
On your mother's eyes, say a prayer
Say a prayer...
-"Do You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison?" by My Chemical Romance
Note: Uh yeah...I'm actively writing fics...starting new ones when I have plenty of others to finish. I know. I should be shot. :D;;; Anyway, yeah...Have fun with the read!
P.S. - ...yeah...when I can't think of any summary to put, I end up putting the thing that inspired me...either some little thing I wrote myself or lyrics that wouldn't leave my head so I wrote 'em down. So yeah...there is a method!
He sweated as he pressed up against the wall, card gun held aloft in one hand while the other fingered the wall behind him. He panted, attempting to catch his breath after the strenuous act that had taken most of the energy he had.
A bullet to the gut could slow even the strongest man, so he'd heard. It was only too bad it applied for phantom thieves, too.
He grinned at the thought, teeth biting the insides of his cheek, before whispering to himself, "So much for being a phantom..." With all the blood that was pouring from his body, he would have been surprised if the 1412 Taskforce couldn't ID him.
Ah, well. Deal with that later, he told himself as he winced, shutting an eye as the pain spiked. For now, he had to survive.
Survive the man who killed his father and who was now hunting for him.
Movement from around the corner of the wall made him tense. Slowly, he readied his card gun, mentally groaning in anxiety as his vision blurred for a moment. Not good. Not good. But he pushed past the dizziness and the vertigo, swallowed back the vomit snaking its way up his throat, and focused on his target.
He'd never killed a person before, but to survive, he would probably have to.
He wasn't ready to.
His hand was shaking ever-so-slightly as he lowered it to aim at the person who would round the corner.
Any minute...
They walked into his view--his finger pressed against the trigger--his hand spasmed and dropped the gun when he saw who it was he was aiming at.
Nakamori Aoko stared at him like a wide-eyed doe caught in a pair of headlights.
He cursed himself for dropping the gun--even if it was more than surprise and shock that had caused it. He quickly tried to make up for his folly by darting for the weapon--
Pain lanced through his body--nerve endings screamed at him to stop--and stop he did, collapsing against the wall, clenching his teeth and hissing out air before swallowing up fresher air in a hiccup-like gulp. He was frozen. His left hand pressed against the wound, staining the white cloth red.
Not good.
He couldn't move.
Aoko seemed to recover somewhat when she realized what was going on and stammered out in disbelief, "K-Kaitou Kid?"
He looked to her with a strained smile, an eye sliding closed again so that his vision would stop trying to double on him. "E-evening, ojousan," he managed to get out before asking with some irony, "Lovely...night, wouldn't you say?"
"You're bleeding," was the stunned answer.
"O-oh this?" he asked with a small laugh, which was cut short as he inhaled sharply. Okay, no laughing--what a pity. "Tis but a...flesh wound and a-all that--"
"Idiot!" the girl shouted at him, eyes still wide but expression firm. "You're really injured!"
"Seems like," he said dryly, giving a faint shrug. "But there's--ah--little to be done." He then gestured vaguely at where his card gun lay. "If you'd just be...kind enough to hand me that--and be on your way...the man I'm waiting for--he doesn't care for innocents--"
"Are you nuts?" Aoko broke in, looking from the gun to the thief before pointing to the weapon. "That thing won't do any good against a real gun! And anyway, you'll just get yourself killed--!"
"Aa..." he responded quietly, struggling to push himself inch by inch up the wall. "So it--would be better...i-if you'd just--go on your way, ojousan--"
"Stupid thief! You're not allowed to die before my father catches you!"
Even though he knew it would hurt, he started laughing. This time he didn't allow the pain to cut him off. "You'll have to send my apologies then--Nakamori-chan," he said when he'd managed to catch his breath again. "Even if...the man who's after me--even if he's already left...there's no time."
There wasn't. Things were getting dim around the edges, and he couldn't move. All the effort he'd made to stay standing was for naught as he slowly started to drop to the ground. His gloved fingers were sticky with blood--same with his entire right side of his abdomen and pant leg. Even though he should have been worrying about Aoko discovering his identity before or after he died in front of her eyes--wouldn't that just make his day?--his muzzled thoughts idly wondered if this particular suit was beyond repair. He was running low on spares...
Then sudden feeling of his right arm being grabbed did more than enough to wake him up. Especially since it was being slung over Aoko's shoulders. "O-ojousan--" he started to object weakly but couldn't find the words he wanted to use.
"I said you're not allowed to die until my father catchs you, Kaitou Kid," the daughter of Nakamori Ginzo said firmly, pulling the thief into a standing position, ignoring the mute sounds he made in protest. "So get up and let's get moving."
He wanted to pushed her away, but his only free hand was soaked with blood, and in his more irrational moments, he refused to get blood on her--even though leaning against her was enough to soak her clothes with it. So, unable to articulate all the things wrong with the scenario they were both in, he merely whispered, "Card gun...he might be--"
"Stupid toy, got it," Aoko muttered, bending over a minute to retrieve the gun. She didn't spare it a glance before stuffing it into one of his more obvious pockets. "There. Happy?"
Not at all, he thought gloomily. He was dead, and his secret was going to be revealed. Not to mention the fact that he had only wanted the card gun as a measure of defense. Not a lot of defending would happen with it in his pocket...
But he couldn't tell Aoko this as he tried to stifle some coughs--painful ones.
He tasted blood.
A nervous look from Aoko made him swallow back the coughs long enough to smile back at her. "I'm okay," he reassured her with a very obvious lie.
She took the lie with a small amount of comfort.
"Young Master!"
He forced the teenaged girl to stop. It was faint but he knew he'd heard the old and worried voice. Against Aoko's wishes, he pulled himself away long enough to turn in the direction of the voice had come from. He then brought his right hand to his lips, making a long, loud, and sharp whistle.
"What're you--?" Aoko tried to ask as he leaned against the wall again.
"Three..." he started to countdown with a small grin. "Two...one--"
Konosuke Jii rounded the last corner, running toward him with a shout of worry. "Young master!"
"Jii-chan," he interrupted while he could still speak, "I think I've left too much evidence..."
The old man shook his head in exasperation as he kneeled next to the thief, cutting his suit with a pair of scissors--so much for it still being good to use, the thief thought sadly to himself--he'd produced to reveal the wound, nasty as it was. "That can be taken care of later, young master. Let me look at this first or--"
"The bullet's in there somewhere," was the dazed analysis from the injured party. He then idly waved his bloodied hand. "And Nakamori-chan here was just attempting to keep me alive for her father to catch--" He cut himself off to close his eyes and catch his breath. He was so tired...
"Is he going to die?" Aoko asked uncertainly.
"No, Nakamori-san," Jii answered with as calm a voice as he could managed, "But if you wish for this Kaitou Kid to live long enough to be caught by your father, I'm afraid I'll need your help."
The phantom thief mentally laughed to himself as he continued to focus on his breathing. As if things weren't bad enough...now Aoko would be considered an accomplice if someone were to discover them!
When would the night just end? he wondered faintly just before everything went dark.
-tbc...-
I'd make my usual end-of-story comment here but...yeah. I have to run! Laundry won't do itself, you know~! Hope you all enjoyed! ♥~!
Author: jeva_chan
Size: 1,426 (damn...NEARLY got 1,412...) words
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: In the middle of a gun fight
In the center of a restaurant
They say, "Come out with your arms raised high."
Well, they're never gonna get me
Like a bullet through a flock of doves
To wage this war against your faith in me
Your life will never be the same
On your mother's eyes, say a prayer
Say a prayer...
-"Do You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison?" by My Chemical Romance
Note: Uh yeah...I'm actively writing fics...starting new ones when I have plenty of others to finish. I know. I should be shot. :D;;; Anyway, yeah...Have fun with the read!
P.S. - ...yeah...when I can't think of any summary to put, I end up putting the thing that inspired me...either some little thing I wrote myself or lyrics that wouldn't leave my head so I wrote 'em down. So yeah...there is a method!
He sweated as he pressed up against the wall, card gun held aloft in one hand while the other fingered the wall behind him. He panted, attempting to catch his breath after the strenuous act that had taken most of the energy he had.
A bullet to the gut could slow even the strongest man, so he'd heard. It was only too bad it applied for phantom thieves, too.
He grinned at the thought, teeth biting the insides of his cheek, before whispering to himself, "So much for being a phantom..." With all the blood that was pouring from his body, he would have been surprised if the 1412 Taskforce couldn't ID him.
Ah, well. Deal with that later, he told himself as he winced, shutting an eye as the pain spiked. For now, he had to survive.
Survive the man who killed his father and who was now hunting for him.
Movement from around the corner of the wall made him tense. Slowly, he readied his card gun, mentally groaning in anxiety as his vision blurred for a moment. Not good. Not good. But he pushed past the dizziness and the vertigo, swallowed back the vomit snaking its way up his throat, and focused on his target.
He'd never killed a person before, but to survive, he would probably have to.
He wasn't ready to.
His hand was shaking ever-so-slightly as he lowered it to aim at the person who would round the corner.
Any minute...
They walked into his view--his finger pressed against the trigger--his hand spasmed and dropped the gun when he saw who it was he was aiming at.
Nakamori Aoko stared at him like a wide-eyed doe caught in a pair of headlights.
He cursed himself for dropping the gun--even if it was more than surprise and shock that had caused it. He quickly tried to make up for his folly by darting for the weapon--
Pain lanced through his body--nerve endings screamed at him to stop--and stop he did, collapsing against the wall, clenching his teeth and hissing out air before swallowing up fresher air in a hiccup-like gulp. He was frozen. His left hand pressed against the wound, staining the white cloth red.
Not good.
He couldn't move.
Aoko seemed to recover somewhat when she realized what was going on and stammered out in disbelief, "K-Kaitou Kid?"
He looked to her with a strained smile, an eye sliding closed again so that his vision would stop trying to double on him. "E-evening, ojousan," he managed to get out before asking with some irony, "Lovely...night, wouldn't you say?"
"You're bleeding," was the stunned answer.
"O-oh this?" he asked with a small laugh, which was cut short as he inhaled sharply. Okay, no laughing--what a pity. "Tis but a...flesh wound and a-all that--"
"Idiot!" the girl shouted at him, eyes still wide but expression firm. "You're really injured!"
"Seems like," he said dryly, giving a faint shrug. "But there's--ah--little to be done." He then gestured vaguely at where his card gun lay. "If you'd just be...kind enough to hand me that--and be on your way...the man I'm waiting for--he doesn't care for innocents--"
"Are you nuts?" Aoko broke in, looking from the gun to the thief before pointing to the weapon. "That thing won't do any good against a real gun! And anyway, you'll just get yourself killed--!"
"Aa..." he responded quietly, struggling to push himself inch by inch up the wall. "So it--would be better...i-if you'd just--go on your way, ojousan--"
"Stupid thief! You're not allowed to die before my father catches you!"
Even though he knew it would hurt, he started laughing. This time he didn't allow the pain to cut him off. "You'll have to send my apologies then--Nakamori-chan," he said when he'd managed to catch his breath again. "Even if...the man who's after me--even if he's already left...there's no time."
There wasn't. Things were getting dim around the edges, and he couldn't move. All the effort he'd made to stay standing was for naught as he slowly started to drop to the ground. His gloved fingers were sticky with blood--same with his entire right side of his abdomen and pant leg. Even though he should have been worrying about Aoko discovering his identity before or after he died in front of her eyes--wouldn't that just make his day?--his muzzled thoughts idly wondered if this particular suit was beyond repair. He was running low on spares...
Then sudden feeling of his right arm being grabbed did more than enough to wake him up. Especially since it was being slung over Aoko's shoulders. "O-ojousan--" he started to object weakly but couldn't find the words he wanted to use.
"I said you're not allowed to die until my father catchs you, Kaitou Kid," the daughter of Nakamori Ginzo said firmly, pulling the thief into a standing position, ignoring the mute sounds he made in protest. "So get up and let's get moving."
He wanted to pushed her away, but his only free hand was soaked with blood, and in his more irrational moments, he refused to get blood on her--even though leaning against her was enough to soak her clothes with it. So, unable to articulate all the things wrong with the scenario they were both in, he merely whispered, "Card gun...he might be--"
"Stupid toy, got it," Aoko muttered, bending over a minute to retrieve the gun. She didn't spare it a glance before stuffing it into one of his more obvious pockets. "There. Happy?"
Not at all, he thought gloomily. He was dead, and his secret was going to be revealed. Not to mention the fact that he had only wanted the card gun as a measure of defense. Not a lot of defending would happen with it in his pocket...
But he couldn't tell Aoko this as he tried to stifle some coughs--painful ones.
He tasted blood.
A nervous look from Aoko made him swallow back the coughs long enough to smile back at her. "I'm okay," he reassured her with a very obvious lie.
She took the lie with a small amount of comfort.
"Young Master!"
He forced the teenaged girl to stop. It was faint but he knew he'd heard the old and worried voice. Against Aoko's wishes, he pulled himself away long enough to turn in the direction of the voice had come from. He then brought his right hand to his lips, making a long, loud, and sharp whistle.
"What're you--?" Aoko tried to ask as he leaned against the wall again.
"Three..." he started to countdown with a small grin. "Two...one--"
Konosuke Jii rounded the last corner, running toward him with a shout of worry. "Young master!"
"Jii-chan," he interrupted while he could still speak, "I think I've left too much evidence..."
The old man shook his head in exasperation as he kneeled next to the thief, cutting his suit with a pair of scissors--so much for it still being good to use, the thief thought sadly to himself--he'd produced to reveal the wound, nasty as it was. "That can be taken care of later, young master. Let me look at this first or--"
"The bullet's in there somewhere," was the dazed analysis from the injured party. He then idly waved his bloodied hand. "And Nakamori-chan here was just attempting to keep me alive for her father to catch--" He cut himself off to close his eyes and catch his breath. He was so tired...
"Is he going to die?" Aoko asked uncertainly.
"No, Nakamori-san," Jii answered with as calm a voice as he could managed, "But if you wish for this Kaitou Kid to live long enough to be caught by your father, I'm afraid I'll need your help."
The phantom thief mentally laughed to himself as he continued to focus on his breathing. As if things weren't bad enough...now Aoko would be considered an accomplice if someone were to discover them!
When would the night just end? he wondered faintly just before everything went dark.
-tbc...-
I'd make my usual end-of-story comment here but...yeah. I have to run! Laundry won't do itself, you know~! Hope you all enjoyed! ♥~!