Yumi and Killrazor
Yumi hardly twitched as the blade cut through her skin. At first cold, then stinging heat followed the line down her back. Warm blood tickled from the wound. For a moment she lived only for the pain.
�Do you know the difference between a dragon and a rose?�
Her eyes jumped open. Blinking red and yellow away she slowly returned to the world. She lay on his bed, arms over her head, face pressed into a navy and black pillow.
�Is it that a dragon wounds with intent, KJ-sama?� She asked softly.
He never spoke when cutting, feverishly melding the contours of her body to the patterns in his mind. She couldn�t hear through the vinegar that came next, sour and searing as it brought the scars to life. But in this calm between, she felt she came closest to understanding him best.
�Aren�t a roses thorns intended only to wound?� He laughed.
Soft gauze patted her back, wiping the blood away. She couldn�t understand enough. A cramp ran through her neck, but she didn�t move to soften it. �I don�t understand.�
�Of course you do.�
Yumi heard the snap of a blade being unhinged. What seperated the two? One was passive, the other active. A hint of vinegar touched the air, bringing with it the promise of forgetting. She wanted to forget.
�A dragon chooses�� Yumi said.
White hot pain seared her back, falling out in waves until her words were lost inside it. A dragon chooses.
She closed her eyes.
A rose is chosen.
******
Killrazor:
She is a beautiful canvas. Still, well formed, her skin has the correct amount of give to bring out serious work. I can respect that in a woman. The blades move through her as an extention of my own will. In torn blood and flesh I see it. Precise, patterned. It�s so rare I get the chance to truly admire my work.
Roses. Dragons. They are born locked in battle between the blades of her shoulders, down her back. Sometimes I choose the work. Sometimes I lose myself in it and the work chooses me.
�Do you know the difference between a rose and a dragon?� I ask, reaching for a gauze pad to stop the bleeding.
�Is it that a dragon wounds with intent, KJ-sama?� I can�t help but laugh. Her answers amuse me, as much for their novelty as their ignorance. But an artist is not complete without someone to appreciate his work.
�Aren�t a roses thorns intended only to wound?� I respond. She is quiet for a moment, her thoughts running in circles as blank as her expression. I wipe the blood away.
�I don�t understand.� She says after a moment.
As if this question had an answer? As if it mattered.
�Of course you do.� I say absently as I take my blade from the handle and drop it into the disposal can. The vinegar will complete this, make the scars more clear. I remove the cap.
�A dragon chooses.� She says so softly I can hardly hear her. Enough of this. I drop the vinegar onto the wound. As she closes her eyes, I hear her mumble something about a rose.