[2-5] Exodus from the Nose Crash

[Kenpachi Zaraki]

Nanaki’s feet sank sloppily into the freshly moistened sand as the tide began to roll in, waves now crashing onto the beach with increasing frequency. He hobbled across the doughy sand, rushing to the side of his fallen comrades whilst ignoring the sharp, painful spasms from his right forelimb. So long as he could maneuver the limb, he cared little that it ached so. While he was well-accustomed to pain, the same could not be said for death, and he intended to keep it that way. Though Cyborg had been severely injured, he cries meant that for at least for now, he could hold his own. Instead, he made Christa his concern. 

The fiery feline pawed feverishly through the mound of rubble that had once been their adversary, its previously menacing form having crumbled to inert stone in the absence of whatever macabre magicks had been holding it together. Though Christa had been the one to finally put the construct down for good, it looked like she had paid a steep price to claim their victory. Red’s amber optics could barely make out small chinks between the larger rocks, strands of blonde hair smeared with dirt and blood visible beneath. He quickly cast a look at the other half of the group, nothing that Chara had taken to inspecting Cyborg’s condition. Though Red wasn’t completely sold on her sanity, the girl seemed to be expressing at least a basic amount of concern for the mechanized man. She looked to have been quite rattled by the behemoth’s blow, though she continued to hold on.

“Could you give us a hand?” the burgundy beast inquired, looking pleadingly to their well-dressed guide standing at the sidelines.

“Pass,” Karl responded flatly, taking a seat on a nearby rock. Someway or another, both the hems of his slacks and his pristine oxfords had dried themselves. “You’re a scrappy little kitten, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Pass?” Red parroted, eyes narrowing. “She could be dead!” he snarled, gesturing at his buried companion. ”He’s nearly already there himself!” 

“Could be,” the executive replied, shrugging. He produced a small brightly-wrapped candy from his breast pocket, unwrapping it as he spoke. “Time will tell, won’t it? If I were you, I’d use some of that spunk of yours to clear those rocks rather than argue with me.” He winked, tossing the sweet into his mouth and allowing the wrapper to fall to the ground.

The burgundy beast stood for a moment, unable to immediately process the man’s words. Two lives literally lay at his feet, and he was instead relaxing, staring back at him with that smarmy grin. Red felt his muscles tense as he briefly considered pleading with him once more or perhaps even leaping forward and dragging the shyster forcibly to their aid. Snarling, he shelved both ideas entirely and returning to clearing the rubble solo. With great effort he raised himself onto his haunches, bracing his forelimbs against the rocks as if he meant to climb. With renewed vigor, he twisted his back, shoving the rocks aside as his shoulder screamed in agony. The woman hadn’t been the more cordial to him since their meeting, though she had done everything in her power to ensure the safety of the group, at her own expense. To Nanaki, her brusque heroics meant infinitely more than Karl Jak’s saccharine words, void of actual compassion.

Slowly yet surely, the fiery feline chipped away at the pile, managing to clear the woman’s head from the debris after a few moments. He paused to inspect her injuries, panting heavily as he looked for telltale signs of lasting damage. Though crimson blood dribbled from her lips, he could not see signs of obvious trauma to her skull. A quick sniff of her face also told the feline that she was still breathing, if somewhat shallow and uneven, due to the weight of her rocky enclosure. Somewhat relieved at this, Nanaki doubled down and finished clearing still more rubble before taking her shoulder gingerly between his jaws and pulling her free from the debris. As she lay upon the muddy beach, he looked down at her battered body for a longer moment before taking hold of her shoulder once more, dragging her farther up the beach. The tide would not stall its assault for the benefit of any. 

As the fiery feline finally let the woman’s body rest, her chest now rising and falling at a normal cadence, he stole a glance back at the other two. Cyborg remained at the feet of the fallen titan, kneeling with his head hung as if in worship. At his side was Chara, her eyes glazed over as if barely able to comprehend what was happening around her. The feline limped back over two his teammates, leaving Christa to rest. 

“Come on, we can't stay here,” he said, standing eye-level with the crumpled automaton. Though he was not oblivious to the agony that the man bore, it would matter little if the surf devoured them. “If you can stand and walk you'll need to, or else you'll be swallowed by the ocean.”

If he could stand. Nanaki had watched as the cyborg had been forcibly separated from his limb, and yet he had the gaul to command the man to his feet. Perhaps it was the beast in him, survival instinct speaking through the feline and demanding that the disarmed automaton keep moving or die. Was it something as simple as fight-or-flight, or was Nanaki less ‘human’ than he liked to believe? Cyborg deserved compassion, deserved to live just as much as any of them. As the burgundy beast looked upon his comrades, each more broken than the last, he grew angry. They had thrown themselves in the literal line of fire, but for whom?

“Jak,” Red barked, his voice loud, yet calm. “What aren’t you telling us?” He kept his attention on the agonizing machine, hoping his presence could provide some measure of comfort. 

“Why, what ever do you mean?” The showrunner’s velvety smooth voice carried effortlessly over the air. Red didn’t need to look to know he was plastered with that idiotic grin.

“That trick you played with Christa’s gun. How two of us managed to just about die fighting something that seemed to have no interest in you.” He kept his attention on Cyborg, gritting his teeth as he refused to meet Karl’s mocking smile. “And lastly, how you just happened to have the exact thing needed to kill it.” 

Silence rang for a few seconds, the air burdened with neither witty retort nor scathing remark. Though he didn’t give Jak the pleasure of seeing his face twist into a snarl, he could not stifle a low growl as it curled up his throat. Upon his makeshift throne of granite, the show runner’s ever-present smirk seemed to fade.