Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Pain ❯ The Unworthy ( Chapter 1 )

Warnings: Yaoi (no actual sex, though...), Violence

Pairings: Legato/Knives (Controlling, violent) Legato/Midvalley

1. The Unworthy

Fill the void. That's all I was meant to do. Fill the gaping hole that His brother left behind. Attempt to take away, for at least a moment, the horrible loneliness. Attempt to make up for the betrayal. Attempt to be what I can never be. Attempt to be what I could never hope to be.

Legato choked back a scream as the blade cut deep into his flesh. The man with the almost-white hair leaned over him, running the blade over his skin. It traced lines under the lowermost ribs and traced lower, rivulets of blood spilling over his hips, and down his legs. There was no hate in the eyes that watched the blood, no pain evident in the face that took the treatment as though it were a wondrous gift bestowed upon him. And it was, in his mind. A gift from his Master.

Legato's eyes closed tightly, as he pushed down another scream. It didn't matter; his Master could hear his screams, even in his mind. Screams of pain, and of ecstasy. The Master opened his mind for an instant, pushing it into Legato's. Open your eyes, damnit. I never said you could close them. And stop that whining. Worthless human. Why do I even waste my time on you?

The golden eyes opened again, slowly. He focused on the throbbing ache of the deeper cuts, forcing his mind into silence. He mustn't displease the Master.

Millions Knives looked into the golden eyes of the blue-haired man who lay before him. You'll never replace him. You'll never be what I want. You'll never fill his place. You'll never be anything more than a filthy human.

Emphasizing each word, of the last sentence, he pushed down on the blade resting across Legato's chest. I understand. Legato thought to himself.

No one asked you to respond, Legato.

Legato smiled softly at the sound of his name coming off his Master's lips. Rarely did he get the honor of being called by name, and he savored the sound. The smile was the only response he gave, and his Master only pushed hard at his mind for the smile. The attack would have been much more, had there been anything else.

I tire of this. Get out of here.

Legato watched his Master turn away, and he sat up slowly. The pain was horrible, worse than the last time, but he didn't dare move any slower than he was. The punishment could be far worse than anything he could imagine. He pulled on a black jacket and pants, perfect counterpart to white he usually wore. He'd discovered early on that white was a bad color to wear when the Master called him; who knew what sort of mood he would be in. Bloodstains were troublesome to remove from the light colored cloth. When choosing the black, he had been hard-pressed to pick a color the crimson stains would take to better, but decided against it. Red was the color his Master's brother had chosen. The closest he would ever come to that honor was his filthy human blood. He knew he didn't deserve even that. He walked slowly from the chamber, and down the hallway. He stopped at the door, and pressed his palm to it. It slid open soundlessly, and he continued from there to his chambers.

He made it to the bed, and lay down, his eyes closing immediately. His mind focused, and he began to manipulate his own body into healing faster. Not too fast that he couldn't savor the ache that his Master had taken the time to inflict, but fast enough that he wouldn't bleed to death. Fast enough that the only person who had ever caught him coming out of that chamber bleeding wouldn't end up walking in and end up seeing anything.