[Kaneda's seen death plenty of times. Some of the more gruesome ones frequented Neo Tokyo's alleyways. Bike crashes, explosions, head injuries. The works. But nothing tensed his muscles like seeing Ken place that gun to his temple. A part of him tries to reassure himself--
It's fake. It's not a real gun.
--His eyes can't look away as he watches, arms ready to do something in case the gun decided to be real for a day. The word Nemesis rings in his ears as he winces, watching as the familiar figure appears.
Nemesis.
She couldn't emote, or even read his own face, but there's a little wary glance to her as she stands before him. The moment her hand raises, he holds his breath, a small part of him waiting just in case Nemesis decided to be less than friendly.
But that never comes. Instead, warm, yellow light envelopes him, running across his back like warm sunshine, fixing up the wounds and scars on his back like sutures. A wash of relief flows through his body, and his eyes close while the sensation takes effect. This...this made up for all that shrapnel.
no subject
It's fake. It's not a real gun.
--His eyes can't look away as he watches, arms ready to do something in case the gun decided to be real for a day. The word Nemesis rings in his ears as he winces, watching as the familiar figure appears.
Nemesis.
She couldn't emote, or even read his own face, but there's a little wary glance to her as she stands before him. The moment her hand raises, he holds his breath, a small part of him waiting just in case Nemesis decided to be less than friendly.
But that never comes. Instead, warm, yellow light envelopes him, running across his back like warm sunshine, fixing up the wounds and scars on his back like sutures. A wash of relief flows through his body, and his eyes close while the sensation takes effect. This...this made up for all that shrapnel.
You might even see a smile, Ken.]