2026.06.09

[mekachu04]

Against all odds, Killer didn't die that first night.

The old man had them all tucked into his new little hideout, and was growing visibly more incensed that Killer hadn't gone on and succumbed to his pain already. Kidd in turn was growing increasingly more worried over what the man's endgame was, especially considering Kidd found himself in the spot where the only thing keeping Killer alive was Kidd playing nice.

Weirdly, Kidd resented the old man, not Killer, for that.

Somehow, he couldn't quite find it in himself to be upset with the other boy... The boy clearly in agony on the floor of the dingy hideout but not making a sound. Not even when the man had stripped him bare, violently pulling melted shirt off his arm along with the fried protective leathers and face mask. It had ripped the burns back open, blood & pus & plasma freely running down the ruin of his arm. Unsure what else to do, but not trusty the man either, Kidd had spent his time combing through the brittle fried locks of blonde hair, some of it crumbling to dust under his fingers. Watched like a hawk to be sure the man at least looked like he was helping.

Killer's left arm might be a lost cause. It festered and wept through the bandages as soon as it was wrapped. He didn't seem to be able to even feel his fingers - at least two of them broken. The old bastard didn't think it import and left Kidd to try to splint them himself.

The burns went up the entire length of his arm all the way to where the strap of the work apron had absorbed the heat. Killer must of tried to duck- his ear was scorched, the path from the most damaged brun then to his neck- when the skin was saved some by his hair, but still badly burnt.

Killer must be in agony... The old man wrapped his arm but otherwise told Kidd if he wanted Killer to live, he'd have to be the one playing nursemaid.

Kidd might have been asked to slay a dragon for all he knew how to care for anybody. He kept having to remind the bastard for food & water already. When he asked for medicne, the man had scoffed. He threatened to break Kidd's other arm when Kidd had tried to sneak out for supplies. And the he'd drung poor Killer around by what was left of his hair and promised to slit his throat a save them all the trouble of keeping him alive if he ever came back to find Kidd gone.

Things only got worse after that. Whatever plan the man had to getting off this island was clearly not working out for him. He was getting more and more unhinged and Kidd knew the longer this went on, the less either his or Killer's chances of staying alive.

He was pretty sure he was the man's ticket off island at this point. The rest of the plans have fallen to the wayside.

His devil fruit was the only reason he was alive right now. And keeping him in line was the only reason Killer hadn't been tossed out in the garbage. Killer's fever had been getting worse- like he'd never stopped burning from the explosion. He used to try and help, to give Kidd soft apologetic smiles when he hurt tpo much to move. Now his blue eyes just stared blankly and unfocused.

---

Then came the day when the old man can back empty handed. No water skins. No meager scraps to eat. Stormed in, grabbed Kidd's good arm and turned to the door. Killer- bless his almost departed soul- had seemed to come around finally. Stirring even before the old man stormed in and had a death grip on Kidd's hand- It was the only thing keeping Kidd from being swept off his feet and out the door.

It was agony- his broken arm secured by Killer's hold; it was worth the pain to keep him with feet on the ground.

"Let go, you fool!" the man snarled. A few short weeks ago, if you'd have asked Killer if he had family- he would have shrugged. Not really, he would have told you, just the old junkyard guy, I guess. He took me in, been teaching me how to make stuff. So him maybe? Him and the kid.

The man jerked on Kidd again, and kicked Killer's bad arm. The scream caught in his chest. He didn't have the strength to yell even if he wanted to. "Dam't let go, or we all die!"

He kicked Killer's arm again; Kidd could feel Killer's fingers spasm where they gripped tight. But he didn't let go.

The old man kicked him again, aiming for his face, trying to jerk Kidd free. When it was cleak it wasn't working, he dropped Kidd's fist and began to try and pry Killer's hand open.

With maybe his last bit of strength, Killer latched on the arm of the man. His voice was horse, dry, crackly. But clear. "Kidd- Run !"

"I'll kill you myself!" the man snarled, free hand going for Killer's throat.

Kidd got as far as the door before he looked back. The men had his knee on Killer's chest, a hand on his throat. All his focus was on ending the sad pathetic life of his once apprentice.

Worse part is Kidd sees Killer isn't fighting to get true. He's fighting to keep their captor's attention on him. He's gonna get himself killed to give Kidd a chance to get away.

Fuck that.