Samurai Deeper Kyo Fan Fiction ❯ 7 sins ❯ 7 sins ( One-Shot )

 

 

7 Sins

 

 

 

Pride

 

It is strange, perhaps, that Sanada Yukimura holds his head so high, strides like he owns the world, when he is who he is.

 

That he snarls at the Tokugawa, when his brother bows his head in obedience.

 

That he says the Sanada could rule the world, when they are truly nothing.

 

That he abhors the heartless usage of people, when his Ten live for him alone.

 

That he charms any pretty face, when his first love died in his arms.

 

That while others scream, he laughs.

 

But his pride is all he has.

 

And Sanada Saemon-no-suke Yukimura stands tall.

 

 

A/n: The impoverished hero. Seriously, who can resist?

 

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Anger

 

Akira rages. His swords flash over armour, cleanly carving and slicing through flesh, blood, bone. His anger explodes in ice, red-hot rage into icy clear fury. It is an exercise in indulgence.

 

Akira will save his anger, shoring it up behind a wall of ice and waiting, for he does so hate wastage of any kind at all.

 

He would find Kyo, reaffirmed Akira. He would find the demon who ripped his life to pieces. Then… Kyo would pay… and pay hard.

 

The two-headed dragon does not anger easily, and it must be sated completely, before it can sleep again…

 

A/n: Alright, I'll admit it, I was stumped.

 

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Lust

 

Hotaru knows he shouldn't feel this. He's done many surreal things, which would make ordinary people faint.

 

Hotaru thinks this would make normal people commit seppuku.

 

He feels dizziness when Akira moves in front of him, because no thirteen-year-old's ass should look that good. It also shouldn't prance around in tight shorts.

 

Hotaru knows the rest don't know, because Hotaru has not been castrated yet. Akari and Bon would never allow it.

 

But Hotaru can't help himself, and suddenly Akira is pinned to the futon under him.

 

Then Akira kisses back, and Hotaru knows Akira doesn't care its wrong either.

 

A/n: Thanks to my friend Joan for lending me her SDK character book (which I couldn't understand, even though I'm Chinese… which, now that I think about it, would explain my last grade, but it had pretty pictures), with the picture that inspired this.

 

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Envy

 

Saisei is told she should be grateful. She is told she must serve the Mibu with her life.

 

Saisei wants life, true life, not this mockery of flesh and bone and blood with no soul. She wishes.

 

Saisei wants friends, actual friends, not Saishi or Mibu who drop `construct into every sentence she hears. She dreams.

 

Saisei wants love, and she watches Shinrei fight in the courtyards with Keikoku, play with Mibu young ones. She hopes.

 

Saisei wants to be and hates the blond girl with life, friends and love.

 

Saisei wants, but she'll never have anything.

 

Constructs don't cry.

 

A/n: Under-appreciated character. `Nuff said.

 

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Gluttony

 

Sasuke tensed, bringing up his hands to better display his … implements.

 

Benitora narrowed his eyes, shifting into a more advantageous position, continuing his mantra of: “Brat… cannot… win… Brat… cannot… win” He seemed to find it soothing.

 

Yuya cleared her throat. She was the only referee they could both agree on.

 

They both knew they could not lose this. Their dignity -and dinner- rested upon this.

 

The separate bowl was set aside from the main one, which was being tucked into.

 

Yuya gave the signal and they dived in.

 

And the first round of the great eating contest began.

 

A/n: well… they fight in every thing else…

 

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Sloth

 

Mahiro lazes.

 

She rolls sleepily about her futon, and buries her head in her pillow. She wasn't really tired, not tired-sleepy but tired just because her beautifully warm futon was also soft and comfy.

 

Soon, she will have to get up and get ready. Muramasa was tired after making the sword, and she just knew Mayumi would take the sword out to the red-eyed man and leave Mahiro to make breakfast.

 

A shadow passed over the paper walls, momentarily blocking light, and that would be Mayumi going out speak to him.

 

She, Mahiro decided, could laze just a bit more…

 

 

A/n: An idea worth expanding on. Any takers?

 

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Greed

 

More. More. I must always have more.

 

More strength, that I can rule the world over.

 

More blood, which oh so thick and rich, overflowing with fear and life and lesser power. I bleed nothing, only dead fluid, and this tainted blood gives me life.

 

More fear, because when you fear something -someone- you make your fear your god. The forest- the Twelve- they fear me, Oda Nobunaga, and they've made me their god.

 

More, I say. More.

 

My servants nod and scurry.

 

More, I think. More. More blood and fear and power, until the world is mine at last.

 

A/n: strangely, I think this is the best of the lot.