Disclaimer: Witch Hunter Robin? No, I don’t own it.
Kitsune: *staring in horror*
Amon: *strangling Puff*
Puff: I’m happy!!! Bishonen-heaven! *sighs*
Kitsune: *looks confused* Did she just say what I think she said?
Amon: I don’t care, as long as I can kill her.
Puff: *gasping for air* Amon, if you kill me now, the story will never finish and you’ll forever be stuck where I leave you.
Amon: *stops strangling Puff* Stay there; I need to think for a minute. *walks off*
Warning: Ehem, Violence. You have been warned. Don’t say I let you wander in here without saying anything.
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Searing Defeat
“Robin?!” Ophelia screamed, sky blue eyes livid with fear as she scrambled to regain her composure, “How are you possibly doing that?” The craft user stared with frozen emerald orbs, the scorching light from the flames coiled around her arms reflecting madly in her eyes. She stepped slowly, deliberately, towards Ophelia’s slightly trembling form.
“Robin! Say something!” Ophelia pleaded, her feet tangling as she stepped away from Robin. She fell, her platinum hair splaying across the blood-sprayed sidewalk.
“Get up,” Robin ordered impersonally, standing over Ophelia. Her blood dripped warmly on the older woman’s forehead, tracing unknown paths in crimson. The searing heat from the white flames curled around the craft user’s arm dried the liquid, the fires flickering mere inches from Ophelia’s body.
Ophelia scurried to her feet, watchfully minding the flames poised above her as she moved from the pavement. Robin observed her opponent’s movements blankly, barely blinking her cold green eyes and seemingly not breathing. Her scarlet life-liquid splattering on the leaf-covered sidewalk was the only sign that she was truly alive.
A flash of blazing anger flared in Robin’s eyes as she jumped towards her still stunned opponent. Her blood soaked skirt caught on the icy wind, the black material spreading out like wings. Searing white flames lodged themselves in Ophelia’s lower abdomen, flames so hot they cauterized the wound before a drop of cherry colored liquid could escape. Robin pulled her arm away from Ophelia, who dropped to her knees in sheer pain, the craft user’s flames dropping to a low glow.
“Robin,” Ophelia cried pitifully, clutching vainly at her charred wound, “Tell me what’s going on. Please, just calm down and let’s talk.” She reached weakly for the young craft user, her hands covered in Robin’s own blood.
“I see no need to discuss things. Stand up and fight me,” Robin snapped lividly, her flames flaring momentarily before falling back to a dim illumination, “Let me put it this way; you explained yourself by choice. I don’t want to take the time to explain. Javan’s head is bleeding and I don’t want to put her life at risk, even more so than it already has been. I just want to get it over with and kill you.” She stared determinedly at Ophelia, seemingly not noticing her still freely bleeding wounds.
“Kill me?” Ophelia whispered, her fingers dropping from her abdomen and twining into the material of her flowing skirt. Tears started to stream down her cheeks, drawing pink lines in the dried blood that was in the shape of a smeared handprint. The sparkling salty pale pink liquid fell to the sidewalk in front of where she sat, glistening in the deep red pool.
“Yes,” Robin responded coldly, the loose tendrils of her blonde hair whipping around her blood-streaked face, “Stand up and fight. I’ll end it quickly. I have to end it quickly.” Her brilliant emerald orbs darted briefly over to Javan’s still form, grimacing slightly at the thin streak of blood winding through the ebony shaded locks and on to the pale skin.
“Robin,” Ophelia began softly, carefully standing up while keeping her sky blue eyes locked onto her opponent, “I never came into this to kill you.”
“But you came into this willing to put your life at stake,” Robin retorted, fingering her pendant, “Actually, what you want to do with Javan and I is worse than death. You were going to happily hand us over to your boss, sacrificing our freedom and our lives to his whims!”
“I never quite thought about it that way, but I’m doing this to save my children. Of course I’ll willingly put my life at stake for them,” Ophelia snapped, anger to match Robin’s flaring in her sapphire orbs as she pointedly continued, “I can’t kill you. But I can see that I’m going to have to take you as close to death as possible.”
“Just try,” Robin said straightforwardly, readjusting her glasses slightly on the bridge of her nose with her red tainted fingers, “I have no intention of going with you, willing or not.” Her energy began to re-focus into her hands, causing the flesh to glow brightly.
“Of course not. If you ever had any thoughts of coming back with me, none of this would have ever happened,” Ophelia growled, tossing her shimmering hair over her shoulder, “You would have never gotten injured so severely, I wouldn’t have a burned hole in my stomach, Javan wouldn’t have been hurt, and my oldest daughter wouldn’t be dead. But we can’t change things like that, Robin. I still have two other children to save, and I won’t lose to you.”
“I suppose this is where we cut the chit-chat and continue the fight,” Robin speculated, the fires wrapped around her hands glowing ever brighter with every word she spoke. Ophelia nodded, her energy flaring instantly into intensely lit life as she jumped at Robin.
Sparks flew as they desperately tried to block each others flames, pouring more and more energy into their own fire to hold the other away from them. They stabbed violently, barely dodging the strikes that were speeding constantly towards their already wounded bodies.
Finally, Robin managed to hit her opponent. Ophelia recoiled defensively, clutching at her new wound. A thin stream of blood ran down her arm, rapidly trickling from the slender gash that marred her flesh. Robin grimaced; the wound wasn’t very valuable to her fight at all, since she hadn’t even managed to drive her flames deep enough to singe the cloth that surrounded it.
Ophelia grinned dementedly, amused at Robin’s barely veiled anger. She, once again, took advantage of Robin’s momentary lapse of attention, spearing the young craft user in the thigh. Robin screamed, not really out of pain since the adrenaline pumping through her veins was more than enough to block it, but out of the shock of getting stabbed and then seeing acrid smoke rising from your newly opened wound.
“At least you don’t have to worry about anymore blood loss, Robin. You have to look on the bright side of having me seal that injury for you,” Ophelia pointed out, fanning a bit of smoke away from her face as she spoke, “I probably would have won right there, because there’s a lot of large arteries and veins running around there.”
“Thanks,” Robin spat, not even wanting to look down at her leg. She kept her shining green eyes focused on her solitary target as she thought of the best attack mode.
“No problem,” Ophelia brushed off lightly, running her fingers lightly over the edge of her own charred gash, “I can seal the others for you, too. You’re still losing a lot of blood. I want you to be at least semi-healthy when I deliver you to the boss. I think he’s counting on being able to keep you alive for at least a little while.”
In shock, Robin ran her hand over her first two wounds. She stared in horror at the very warm crimson paint on her fingers, almost immediately able to feel the liquid teasing her skin under the heavy cloth of her dress. The craft user began to cry before she realized that she didn’t have a moment to spare, and pushed the thoughts of her still heavily bleeding wounds to the back of her mind.
“I’ll be fine,” Robin responded blankly, her blood streaked face fixed into an Amon-like mask. They instantaneously jumped back into their battle, the jumps and twists like some sort of macabre dance. Numerous infinitesimal streaks of crimson appeared on each, tiny slashes from barely avoided serious wounds.
As they performed their pirouette of death, Robin suddenly collapsed. She was panting heavily, coughing blood onto her hands, as she struggled to breathe. Her green eyes were luminescent with fear, the light in them fading slightly with each painful breath. Robin slumped forward, clutching loosely at the hem of her long black dress.
“Robin?” Ophelia questioned tentatively, leaning over the near unconscious craft user, “Are you alright. Does this mean I’ve won the battle?” When Robin didn’t respond, she poked her thin shoulder. The craft user fell over onto the cold pavement, her green eyes glazed and blank.
“I killed her!” Ophelia cried, dropping to her knees next to her young opponent and clutching at her hand, “I killed Robin. I’m going to die. I’m going to die along with my children.” She frantically cried, wailing at the top of her vocal range.
“I’m sorry, I’m not dead,” Robin said coldly, as she stabbed a pure white flame clean through Ophelia’s throat. The platinum haired woman could do nothing but stare in shock at her suddenly revived opponent.
“But you…not breathing…not awake,” Ophelia gasped as she sped towards death, her hands limp at her sides.
“I’m close to dying, but not that close,” Robin explained softly, brushing a bit of hair off of Ophelia’s face, “It was the only way I could get you close enough, with your defenses down, to actually get a good hit in. There was no other way I could win. I’m sorry it had to end this way, Ophelia, I really am. Perhaps, in another life, we can try our friendship again. I know you just wanted to save your children. I hope you can forgive me for taking your chance away from you.”
Ophelia’s sky blue eyes clouded over as she nodded softly, her last breath rattling in her gaping throat. Robin gently closed the woman’s eyelids with her bloodied fingertips, arranging her rapidly cooling hands over her heart.
Robin struggled to her feet, standing up to slowly walk over to where Javan lay. The craft user managed two wavering steps before her legs gave out and she fell heavily to the pavement.
“I guess I’m worse off than I thought,” Robin said in an almost amused tone as she crawled over to the two-year-old, slowly dragging her increasingly painful body across the cold ground, “After all this, I’m really going to die. After all I went through, I’m going to die from blood loss. Well, at least Javan is safe for another day.” She lay down on grass next to the park bench, reaching up to hold Javan’s hand. Her emerald eyes closed peacefully as she expected the grim reaper to come and take her life.
“Robin,” a deep voice echoed loudly in her ears, calling worriedly to her drifting consciousness, “Can you hear me, Robin? Karasuma, call for an ambulance now. Sakaki, I want you to see if Javan is all right. Robin, can you hear me?” Robin cautiously re-opened her eyes, very fearful of what she would see. What she saw was Amon’s seemingly worried dark gray eyes staring at her blood-covered face.
“Amon?” Robin said questioningly, reaching up with her unwounded arm to try and touch his coat. She managed to get her fingers to brush lightly against his shoulder before she had to let her arm fall back down to the ground.
“Yes, Robin,” Amon responded softly, calmly taking her pulse with his gloveless fingers.
“How did you know where I was?” Robin inquired weakly, her voice just above inaudible.
“That’s not important right now but if you must know, Michael got snippets of the energy from the battle on the security field,” Amon explained gently, glancing around at the pooled blood on the sidewalk, “Is all of this yours?”
“No, just most of it,” Robin responded vaguely as she faded back into unconsciousness, her eyelids veiling her dimly lit orbs once again. As she drifted away, the last thing she heard was Amon yelling about how it didn’t look good and where was the ambulance.