[Fic: 100 prompts ] 034
Theme: 034 - Not Enough
Words: 431
Character: Shura
Disclaimers: Saint Seiya © Masami Kurumada, Toei and Shueisha.
034 - Not Enough
Instead of the rock, as he had wanted, it was his hand the one that broke with a displeasing sound. It wasn’t pain what took over his senses, but anger. The natural formation in front of him exploded into pieces as he smashed it with his unharmed fist. The result was dozens of peddles and smaller rocks flying into the air, before they fell back to the ground, scattering without any kind of order. At the sight of what he had done, Shura ran his hand through his hair. Such a messy destruction was exactly what he was trying to avoid.
Shura rummaged through his bag, searching for bandages. He wrapped them around his left hand, the white cloth soaking in blood almost right after. The doctor in the city nearby, who had been taking care of his wounds for the past weeks, wouldn’t heal him without scolding him first. At least the old man never asked what was he doing to hurt himself like that so often. He would treat him and then send him off, with the warning that the next time he did something reckless, he wouldn’t take care of it. Luckily that was one word the man didn’t bother to keep.
From the bag Shura took out a notebook and began to jot down notations on another failed attempt. Not enough accuracy, not enough strength, not enough speed, reached the nucleus but didn’t go as planned… Just the same as previous times.
Shura looked at the pieces scattered around and picked one of the pebbles. He observed it, paying special attention to the way it had broken. It was the example of the kind of destruction he didn’t want to create. The cut had to be simple, direct, until the atoms divided into exact two halves. The crack left on the object had to be straight, with no deviations. Anything less was inconceivable.
He changed the bandages and stood up, facing another group of rocks. He raised his left hand above his head, his cosmo focused on the tip of his fingers, and lowered it in a fraction of a second, the golden light that resulted from his action flying forward in an unstoppable slash. Once it came into contact with the rocks, they broke into several big pieces, leaving not a speck of dust in the air.
Shura acknowledged another failed attempt with an exhausted sigh, but refused to stop. Only once he mastered the Excalibur he would allow himself to go back to the Sanctuary. As long as he wasn’t strong enough, he wouldn’t rest.
Words: 431
Character: Shura
Disclaimers: Saint Seiya © Masami Kurumada, Toei and Shueisha.
034 - Not Enough
Instead of the rock, as he had wanted, it was his hand the one that broke with a displeasing sound. It wasn’t pain what took over his senses, but anger. The natural formation in front of him exploded into pieces as he smashed it with his unharmed fist. The result was dozens of peddles and smaller rocks flying into the air, before they fell back to the ground, scattering without any kind of order. At the sight of what he had done, Shura ran his hand through his hair. Such a messy destruction was exactly what he was trying to avoid.
Shura rummaged through his bag, searching for bandages. He wrapped them around his left hand, the white cloth soaking in blood almost right after. The doctor in the city nearby, who had been taking care of his wounds for the past weeks, wouldn’t heal him without scolding him first. At least the old man never asked what was he doing to hurt himself like that so often. He would treat him and then send him off, with the warning that the next time he did something reckless, he wouldn’t take care of it. Luckily that was one word the man didn’t bother to keep.
From the bag Shura took out a notebook and began to jot down notations on another failed attempt. Not enough accuracy, not enough strength, not enough speed, reached the nucleus but didn’t go as planned… Just the same as previous times.
Shura looked at the pieces scattered around and picked one of the pebbles. He observed it, paying special attention to the way it had broken. It was the example of the kind of destruction he didn’t want to create. The cut had to be simple, direct, until the atoms divided into exact two halves. The crack left on the object had to be straight, with no deviations. Anything less was inconceivable.
He changed the bandages and stood up, facing another group of rocks. He raised his left hand above his head, his cosmo focused on the tip of his fingers, and lowered it in a fraction of a second, the golden light that resulted from his action flying forward in an unstoppable slash. Once it came into contact with the rocks, they broke into several big pieces, leaving not a speck of dust in the air.
Shura acknowledged another failed attempt with an exhausted sigh, but refused to stop. Only once he mastered the Excalibur he would allow himself to go back to the Sanctuary. As long as he wasn’t strong enough, he wouldn’t rest.