#035 Loaded Gun - Finger on the Trigger
Story: Kamen Rider Decade
Characters: 14!Daiki Kaito
Prompt: #035 Loaded Gun
Word Count:
"Say it~" Fourteen kept his finger in place. One of the most basic things that someone could know about a gun was to not put their finger on the trigger until they were ready to fire and prepared to face the consequences. Since the conversation hadn't gone the way he'd expected, he was ready to end it as quickly and painlessly as possible. But before he did, he wanted to make sure all hope was lost of saving this poor soul and that he wouldn't regret his decision later that night.
He couldn't just leave the Rider there. He couldn't risk letting Daishocker get their hands on something that should have been his.
"Just five little words. 'I want to be yours.' It's not that hard." This was tiring. It was stupid. How much time was he wasting when there were plenty of alternate versions he could have tried to persuade by this point? At the long pause and the sound of the other's shaking voice, Fourteen sighed deeply and strode forward, lifting his gun higher to level it.
Sometimes things didn't go as planned.
He was getting better at washing the blood from his clothes. After the first few times, Fourteen had learned it was easier to make offers in cheap and casual clothes because blood didn't like to come out of white. It at least blended in with the black.
Another night filled with the same routines. Large and quiet lonely rooms filled with silence and sprinkled with items he'd collected during his times in other worlds. They seemed out of place as an awkward decor, clashing horribly with the pristine and high class interior of the mansion.
Sometimes Fourteen wondered if he had more in common with his treasure than anything else.
Different company came to his room every night. Fourteen wanted to spend time with his human treasures, feigning a sense of closeness and having to force the smile and kind tone that insisted he would keep all of his promises. He'd already convinced himself that he meant everything he'd said to them, but if things would change, he wouldn't worry much.
In most cases, the room was filled with awkward silence. His jaw would be set and he'd lie through his teeth, smiling warmly the entire time as he was asked questions he didn't feel like answering. It was too much work. He didn't care, but he needed them. These things, his treasures, were the key to something he couldn't yet understand.
Even on the rare occasions that his bed was warmed by the heat of another body, it never felt any different. Fourteen refused to accept things as they were. Maybe he still needed more. More treasures, more Riders, more bodies. What he had wasn't good enough. What he had wasn't making a difference. It felt like things were never going to change.
In the morning, he would get dressed again and eat breakfast before going on his way. The search would continue until something inside him changed.
Characters: 14!Daiki Kaito
Prompt: #035 Loaded Gun
Word Count:
"Say it~" Fourteen kept his finger in place. One of the most basic things that someone could know about a gun was to not put their finger on the trigger until they were ready to fire and prepared to face the consequences. Since the conversation hadn't gone the way he'd expected, he was ready to end it as quickly and painlessly as possible. But before he did, he wanted to make sure all hope was lost of saving this poor soul and that he wouldn't regret his decision later that night.
He couldn't just leave the Rider there. He couldn't risk letting Daishocker get their hands on something that should have been his.
"Just five little words. 'I want to be yours.' It's not that hard." This was tiring. It was stupid. How much time was he wasting when there were plenty of alternate versions he could have tried to persuade by this point? At the long pause and the sound of the other's shaking voice, Fourteen sighed deeply and strode forward, lifting his gun higher to level it.
Sometimes things didn't go as planned.
He was getting better at washing the blood from his clothes. After the first few times, Fourteen had learned it was easier to make offers in cheap and casual clothes because blood didn't like to come out of white. It at least blended in with the black.
Another night filled with the same routines. Large and quiet lonely rooms filled with silence and sprinkled with items he'd collected during his times in other worlds. They seemed out of place as an awkward decor, clashing horribly with the pristine and high class interior of the mansion.
Sometimes Fourteen wondered if he had more in common with his treasure than anything else.
Different company came to his room every night. Fourteen wanted to spend time with his human treasures, feigning a sense of closeness and having to force the smile and kind tone that insisted he would keep all of his promises. He'd already convinced himself that he meant everything he'd said to them, but if things would change, he wouldn't worry much.
In most cases, the room was filled with awkward silence. His jaw would be set and he'd lie through his teeth, smiling warmly the entire time as he was asked questions he didn't feel like answering. It was too much work. He didn't care, but he needed them. These things, his treasures, were the key to something he couldn't yet understand.
Even on the rare occasions that his bed was warmed by the heat of another body, it never felt any different. Fourteen refused to accept things as they were. Maybe he still needed more. More treasures, more Riders, more bodies. What he had wasn't good enough. What he had wasn't making a difference. It felt like things were never going to change.
In the morning, he would get dressed again and eat breakfast before going on his way. The search would continue until something inside him changed.