[Fic: 100 prompts ] 018
Theme: 018 - Black
Words: 592
Character: Nachi
Disclaimers: Saint Seiya © Masami Kurumada, Toei and Shueisha.
018 - Black
Everything he had been taught in the Graude foundation was meaningless in the place he was sent to. Among the orphans, he had been one of the most agile ones and, compared to others, he usually came out of the trainings well. He had even defeated Geki once, who was much bigger and stronger. But against the man that was his master, he had no chance.
“You can’t block, you can’t fight back, and you say you want to carry the Cloth I’ve sworn to protect until the day someone worthy comes?”
“I can’t go back with my hands empty!” Nachi shouted back. The changes in his master’s expressions were subtle, but strong enough for him to see them before the man vanished altogether. The sound of fast, short steps followed and Nachi protected his face with his hands, prepared for what was to come, but it wasn’t enough. The attack that followed made his vision go black in less than a second.
“Forget that dream of yours,” his master said. The voice seemed to come from a place far away, distorted by the distance. “You will never become a Saint.”
The boy groaned in response, his hands going to his head in an attempt to ease the pain. It was the first time the man hit him with such an amount of strength.
“I have to go back home…” he whispered. He obliged his eyes to open but the world that spun around, unstoppable, was enough for him to shut them again. His master didn’t say anything as he watched the boy struggle with his unresponsive body.
The minutes it took Nachi to be able to sit on the ground were eternal for the boy. Even after he’d managed to do what he wanted, his body still ached. If he moved one more centimeter, he’d bend over in pain. He pushed those thoughts deep into his mind, the same way he did it to get through the training in the foundation, and bit by bit picked himself up until he stood on his trembling legs.
“To become a Saint, you first have to become a warrior,” his master said. The sudden expression of contentment that appeared on his face caught the child by surprise. “And the first step is to stand up, no matter how much it hurts.”
Nachi nodded, though his mind hadn’t entirely processed the words. His master’s heavy hand fell on his head and, with rough affection, messed his hair.
“You know what you want. All that stands between you and the Cloth you desire is this body,” he explained, his fingers pointing at his own chest. “This body that is no different from yours can feel the same pain you feel right now. Do you understand? I’m not invincible. Even you, with that small body, with those weak fists, can defeat me.”
Nachi nodded again, unable to say anything. He watched the man walk back to their cabin and, only when the figure disappeared into the building, allowed himself to crumble down. On his back on the ground he fell asleep, exhaustion catching up with him.
Some minutes later, the cabin’s door opened. The man walked up to him and picked the small body without effort, an action he had grown used to. It was not the first time the training session ended this way.
“I’ll be waiting to hear you howl,” he said, a small smile on his face as the boy accommodated himself on his back. Oblivious to his master’s words, Nachi continued to sleep.
Words: 592
Character: Nachi
Disclaimers: Saint Seiya © Masami Kurumada, Toei and Shueisha.
018 - Black
Everything he had been taught in the Graude foundation was meaningless in the place he was sent to. Among the orphans, he had been one of the most agile ones and, compared to others, he usually came out of the trainings well. He had even defeated Geki once, who was much bigger and stronger. But against the man that was his master, he had no chance.
“You can’t block, you can’t fight back, and you say you want to carry the Cloth I’ve sworn to protect until the day someone worthy comes?”
“I can’t go back with my hands empty!” Nachi shouted back. The changes in his master’s expressions were subtle, but strong enough for him to see them before the man vanished altogether. The sound of fast, short steps followed and Nachi protected his face with his hands, prepared for what was to come, but it wasn’t enough. The attack that followed made his vision go black in less than a second.
“Forget that dream of yours,” his master said. The voice seemed to come from a place far away, distorted by the distance. “You will never become a Saint.”
The boy groaned in response, his hands going to his head in an attempt to ease the pain. It was the first time the man hit him with such an amount of strength.
“I have to go back home…” he whispered. He obliged his eyes to open but the world that spun around, unstoppable, was enough for him to shut them again. His master didn’t say anything as he watched the boy struggle with his unresponsive body.
The minutes it took Nachi to be able to sit on the ground were eternal for the boy. Even after he’d managed to do what he wanted, his body still ached. If he moved one more centimeter, he’d bend over in pain. He pushed those thoughts deep into his mind, the same way he did it to get through the training in the foundation, and bit by bit picked himself up until he stood on his trembling legs.
“To become a Saint, you first have to become a warrior,” his master said. The sudden expression of contentment that appeared on his face caught the child by surprise. “And the first step is to stand up, no matter how much it hurts.”
Nachi nodded, though his mind hadn’t entirely processed the words. His master’s heavy hand fell on his head and, with rough affection, messed his hair.
“You know what you want. All that stands between you and the Cloth you desire is this body,” he explained, his fingers pointing at his own chest. “This body that is no different from yours can feel the same pain you feel right now. Do you understand? I’m not invincible. Even you, with that small body, with those weak fists, can defeat me.”
Nachi nodded again, unable to say anything. He watched the man walk back to their cabin and, only when the figure disappeared into the building, allowed himself to crumble down. On his back on the ground he fell asleep, exhaustion catching up with him.
Some minutes later, the cabin’s door opened. The man walked up to him and picked the small body without effort, an action he had grown used to. It was not the first time the training session ended this way.
“I’ll be waiting to hear you howl,” he said, a small smile on his face as the boy accommodated himself on his back. Oblivious to his master’s words, Nachi continued to sleep.