in this tune. Death that held him in his tracks. Death from within, and fear from outside. The girls hands were shaking, and where her skin touched the shell was deathly white skin. Her eyes were wide and expression strained, under the fire to fight. A mind so twisted, wrapped around conditions and emotions. Perhaps, perhaps it would be best for him to fight. To end the pain that they both felt.
The Demon showed little sign of feeling the pain that was coming from the stromb. His gaze remained empty, yet small beadlets of sweat on his brow betrayed his apathy. The girl continued to play, perspiration of her own forming as she tried to continue her breath. Both knew that, as soon as she took a breath, that would be the moment to attack. It was a waiting game.
"Kia..." The boy muttered, suddenly moving from his stunned position. He looked up, black eyes falling upon the motionless battle and paused. This was a fragile situation, one that could be easily broken with the lightest touch. Dare he move an inch more? Dare he risk to shatter this scene and pray, pray ever so much that the shards would pierce the correct foe? The future, many futures played out in his eyes. Doing nothing would kill her. Acting would kill her. If only he could give his own breath to the girl, but that would--
Let it be.
He stood, but he didn't. It was motion, but not the kind seen or felt, but recognized on an instinctual level. The demon would feel it, this silent and invisible call to action. But how would he react, with such a thing as himself in its presence? The beast would surely forget the girl, and she would be left in peace. That is why he stood now, prostrating the essence of what he was in a deadly beacon. Others would sense it, find him. But, it was this or death.