Somehow, Niaaki had known his excuse wouldn't work, and hadn't really expected these drow to just let them waltz on out just because they wanted to. Let's see here...one, they'd been lied to and sent into a trap. Two, they'd been backstabbed and poisoned and knocked out. Three, they'd been tossed into a cell. Four, they'd been asked to join their organization. Hmm...yes...if they had gone through that much trouble and drama just to bring them here just to "ask" them to join their organization, they certainly wouldn't be letting them prance on out unscathed! No, that choice they'd given them hadn't been much of a choice, not when they'd been threatened with death not moments before! And stabbed and stuff. Niaaki did wonder why on Earth they had gone through all that trouble in the first place to bring them here...they didn't know the drow, and they didn't know them. Why would they want them?
Eh, they probably did the same thing to every traveller that entered the village...that was probably why they had so many members...they seemed desperate enough...bah! Well, an army made up of people that didn't want to be there to begin with was not the most useful army, anyway! Nor the most loyal. So nyah.
Well, anyway, even though Niaaki doubted they'd be allowed to leave, he still jumped when the drow's sword whipped out to bar their path. And he still couldn't hep but be disappointed...he just couldn't help but have some vague hope that things would, for once in his life, be somewhat easy...
Too bad. Things only continued to complicate.
The drow challenged Yuuki to a duel, and...the stakes were...not cool...
But that wasn't what caused him to develop the sudden urge to bash his head against something very, very hard. Nooo, he had all the faith in the world in Yuuki. He was worried about Yuuki, yes, and knew Yuuki would accept the challenge and that there was nothing Niaaki could do to stop him--Yuuki had more testosterone than ten men stranded on a deserted island with only one woman--but he had faith in his companion. They'd been in fixes before, and Yuuki had always gotten them out. Hey, they'd managed to survive for the four years since they'd met each other, and Niaaki knew that for all Yuuki played the fool, he was a strategist. Of course, that didn't really make Niaaki worry any less...because battles were always uncertain...and he didn't trust that these backstabbing maniacs would fight fair. Nor did he know how strong or experienced they were, or what they were capable of...and the stakes were high.
He didn't want Yuuki to get hurt...or worse...
However, what caused him to want to bang his head against the nearest wall was Yuuki's refusal to take a weapon. WHAT?! Good Gods, was Yuuki INSANE?! ARGH! He knew Yuuki loved his old, long gone sword, but it wasn't like he'd be cheating on it if he used another sword or two for this duel! The other guy had swords! Two! Now, Niaaki knew he could do damage with his hands and feet, and knew just what he had up his sleeve, as well, but swords against fists? Not cool! It would be better if he just swallowed his pride and took a weapon! Their lives were at stake here.
"Yuuki!" he all but growled, shocked, but Yuuki wasn't listening to him. He was in "fight-mode" now. And Niaaki knew how he loved to fight. Sighing, giving up, he gave his friend's arm one last squeeze. "You better not die..." he grumbled before releasing him and backing off, getting well out of the way.
Argh! He and that old sword! Did he really think he'd be unfaithful or something if he used another one? Idiot! If he had taken a sword or two, Niaaki could have helped him! But nooo, he chose not to. He really better not get himself killed...if he did, Niaaki didn't know what he'd do. Probably run right into the frey to try and help, and if he got killed in the process, well...at least he wouldn't be alone. Yuuki was his best friend and family all wrapped up in one person. If he lost that, he didn't know what he'd do...
But, he did know he wouldn't let Yuuki die.
He'd be sure of that.
Niaaki had ended up back by the table, though he didn't sit down. He just stood there, well out of the way, close enough to have a good view, and as far as he could get from the overlord guy. His small body was tense as he stood there squeezing the life out of Butch without even realizing he was doing it. Or maybe he subconsciously thought he was strangling Yuuki. Poor doll, always getting the brunt of everything...no wonder it had so many patches and stitches: it wasn't just the vessel of his magic, but it was a sort of stress reliever, too! Yay for that!
Then the duel began, Yuuki, as usual, being Yuuki and initiating it with a little sarcasm. Niaaki's lips twitched into a smirk despite himself at the "lady" comment, but then the swords were flying, Yuuki was dodging, and--Niaaki tensed. That sword had gotten awfully close the--
And then he saw the blood on Yuuki's chest, soaking through and pooling along the thick leather, cleanly cut.
His body gave a little twitch, and he bit down hard on his lip to keep from making a sound, his fingers tightening on Butch. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. But then Yuuki stood and commented with more sarcasm, and he was smiling, a very dangerous smile...it was a fleshwound...just a scratch...okay...nothing big...he hadn't been impaled...
He released his breath and shifted nervously from foot to foot, meeting the worried look Yuuki cast his way. He swallowed. Okay, Yuuki was just playing...he knew Yuuki's body language well enough, and now he saw that Yuuki was okay, just having some fun. Alright. So far, so good. No need to worry. Yeah...
And then Yuuki went in to attack.
It was shortly after that that it happened.
Without any warning, Niaaki gave a sudden jerk and went thoroughly rigid, body stiff and tense. He didn't even have time to make a sound, no time to even know what was happening. His silver-blue eyes widened, his lips parted only slightly, but other than that, his face was completely blank, eyes unseeing.
But his body was in agony.
Pain such as he never knew was even possible blazed through every inch of his body, a white-hot razor slashing at every nerve center simultaneously. If he had been able to move, he would have been convulsing, thrashing and screaming in utmost agony, but all he could do was stand there blankly, unable to even blink, to even twitch.
And then his eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled like an unmanned puppet, landing in a twisted heap on his side. He never moved once. The only thing way one could even tell he was still alive was the slight movement of his silver bangs as he breathed, and the vague movement of his chest.