(Originally posted to AO3 but in the interest of infinite self-promotion I feel I should post it here too, for the consideration of the illustrious denizens of the Beast's Lair.)
The Dying Girl
Rin walked down the corridor, looking to her right and to her left, brushing the dust off her shoulder as she went. The feeling was both new and familiar, and she felt it coming over her, washing her like a river washes stones free of their whorls. The smoothing cleansed her of her sins, which had weighed upon her soul.
It was the third night, three nights after the death of that girl. The one who had always hidden from the sides, crouching behind the walls, looking around the corner, afraid to come out. To take what was hers, bring it in. Instead she was scared, too scared.
Until now. Until the power within her had aroused itself, and taken her over. Rin had seen the transformation, and been powerless to stop it. Oh, how she wishes she could have just torn the beast free from her Sister - though she could never call her that, not where she might hear - and embraced her. But sadly, the girl was too far gone. Her eyes were like an animal, ravenous to consume.
Rin had felt the cold steel of the knife in her hand. The Azoth dagger was the only symbol of her father that she still had without her, besides for the magic crest implanted in her arm. But the magic crest was the culmination of her family's magical research for generations; the dagger, however, was her father's especial item, one that he had won and infused with charms himself. She hated Kirei, so she hated the knife as much as she loved it, for that accursed priest had been the one to deliver it to her.
Just as he had delivered Sakura to her, a helpless girl, after he had done what he could for her.
"Just kill her," he said. She could feel the smile creeping up in his voice, no matter how he tried to hide it. It disgusted her.
She almost didn't do it, just to spite the bastard.
Almost.
But, like always, she had to swallow the hesitancy, the feeling that her moral fibers were unravelling, and do what was required of her. She had long ago realized that her duties as Second Owner were not bound by ethical restrictions; rather, they were on an entirely different plane from normal, nonmagical activities.
So she needed to kill the thing inside of her, the little girl that didn't want to see anyone cry.
That never wanted to say goodbye to Sakura.
Her little sister.
But the thing was, Rin couldn't kill that girl. It lived on inside of her. The best Rin could do was try to ignore its cries. The cries of the little girl who had seen her father's corpse, her mother's premature senility, but never her sister. Never Sakura. She had to rely on Kirei to guide her.
So what would a little more be? Sakura had never been particularly close to her, even after they started seeing each other at school. There was no relationship anymore, and Rin had convinced herself that the little girl was dead.
So she didn't think she needed to prepare herself for the deed.
So she entered the room where Sakura slept, drew the knife, and plunged it down.
And saw that she had missed.
The knife was planted in the bed next to her sister's exposed, sweaty throat. Her chest heaved, and her lips fluttered as if whispering sweet nothings.
Rin was blank for a moment, wondering what had gone wrong.
She reminded herself that she always did make mistakes at the most crucial moments. Archer would make fun of her if he were here.
Besides, if she screwed this up, Sakura herself would suffer more than anyone else.
What a pathetic end that would be... I couldn't even kill her, the only bit of kindness I can do?
She steeled her nerves, and drew the knife from its cushioned victim.
"I love you, Sakura," she whispered, and this time, the knife found its mark.
XXX
So Rin walked through the halls, preparing her statement. The Lords and Ladies of the Clock Tower were demanding a sacrifice for the atrocities that had occurred during the defeat of Matou Zouken. At the end of the corridor, they would be waiting, arrayed around a semicircular table a dozen meters above the door, ready to tear her to pieces on the witness stand in their quest for a scapegoat to load their sins onto.
Rin reached the end of the corridor. She laughed, full and throaty.
For she knew she was free.
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Originally Posted by Hymn of Ragnarok
