Oh my fucking god, I actually wrote something.
Is it a sign of the apocalypse? It just might be.
Anyway, it's only one tiny little drabble, but all my longer stuff has hit dead ends. At least it's something.
Title: Teacher
Series: Yami no Matsuei
Hisoka goes sprawling as the bokken slams into his side. He tries to rise, but the breath has been knocked out of him. His small hands brush against the angry welt already starting to form.
"Get up," his father orders. "It hurts, yes, I know." Nagare's eyes narrow. "I don't care. Pain is weakness. You will not use it as an excuse."
Hisoka was young, but he understood. And now, as he rises from Surgatanus' attack, his eyes glint with bitter amusement, and for moment all he can think is, "you taught me better than you know, Father."
Anyway, it's only one tiny little drabble, but all my longer stuff has hit dead ends. At least it's something.
Title: Teacher
Series: Yami no Matsuei
Hisoka goes sprawling as the bokken slams into his side. He tries to rise, but the breath has been knocked out of him. His small hands brush against the angry welt already starting to form.
"Get up," his father orders. "It hurts, yes, I know." Nagare's eyes narrow. "I don't care. Pain is weakness. You will not use it as an excuse."
Hisoka was young, but he understood. And now, as he rises from Surgatanus' attack, his eyes glint with bitter amusement, and for moment all he can think is, "you taught me better than you know, Father."