Childhood is such a fleeting thing. Years spent in ignorant bliss pass easily by until reality hits and innocence is whisked away on the breeze of their wake. Reality stood before you now – twenty-two and a half feet of it.
"What happened to you, Kuma?" you said, voice snagging on the tears threatening to well up against your will.
He did not reply. Of course he wouldn't. This wasn't the Bartholomew Kuma you had known all those years ago. He had let himself become something he promised he never would – something worse than a monster. He had let himself become a puppet for the government at the expense of everything about him you held so dear.
You did not know the man before you.
Nor would you ever know him again.
* * * * *
"Who are they?" You stared up into the face of your mother who watched the shore with wary eyes.
"They're revolutionaries, [Name]. They'll be operating out of our little town for a while. You're to stay away from them, you hear?"
"Yes, Mother," you droned, turning away so she could not catch you rolling your eyes.
Just how dangerous could those men be anyway? They did not look threatening, although the same could not be said of the man who appeared to be their leader. Wicked eyes gleamed from beneath a low brow, his face marked by a strange tribal tattoo and his mouth seemed permanently fixed in a cruel smirk. You caught whispers of his name around town. 'Dragon' they said, and you could not help but see him as the fearsome fire-breathing beast for which he was named.
Another name was whispered, less frequently that Dragon's, but with equal amount of fear and apprehension. 'Tyrant' was the name. At first you thought it had also belonged to Dragon, but soon you became aware of the presence of another man, just as intimidating and thrice the height.
* * * * *
"Target sighted," came the cold metallic voice, so alien yet so familiar.
You took a tentative step forward, watching his head shift the tiniest amount so he could closely follow your movements. You froze at the warning whir of his optics as they zeroed in on your location.
"Don't you remember me, Kuma?" You began to sob, but you kept your tears at bay. Showing weakness would not help you now.
The man – if he could even still be called a man at this stage – said nothing.
"You don't know who I am anymore," you whispered, the tears once again threatening to overflow.
"Do you even remember who you are?"
* * * * *
"Bartholomew Kuma," he said. Even when bowed in greeting, he still towered high above your head. You stared up at him with childlike indifference.
"Are you the one they call the tyrant?" you asked, not a hint of fear in that high, sweet voice.
"Some do," he said.
"You don't look like a tyrant."
"Looks can be deceiving."
"You look like a bear."
He could not help it – he let out a laugh that echoed out over the valley where you played. You giggled along with him, and somehow you knew you would never have to fear any harm from this man.
* * * * *
"Target locked."
His mouth yawned wide, a whirring sound and the beginnings of light stirring in the depths of his throat. It grew louder and brighter until you could barely hear the sound of your own sobbing nor the rapid pace of your heart thundering beneath your skin.
This was not how it was supposed to be.
Not at all.
* * * * *
"I'm gonna make this easy for you to understand, little girl. You tell us where we can find Dragon and we won't kill you." He smiled widely, mouth full of crooked, rotting teeth. "How does that sound?"
"You don't scare me," you growled, defiant. "I'd rather die than betray them."
"Is that so? Well I'm sure we can arrange that..."
He took a knife from his belt, the dim light glinting off the polished steel. You struggled against your bonds, feeling the blood run down your wrists as the scabs tore open. It was futile. The man strode forward and you stopped your struggle as you felt the cool blade against your throat. You swallowed hard, your skin tasting the sharp edge.
"I'll give you one last chance, girly. Where have those bastards been hiding all these years?" he growled in your ear. You could almost taste the hot stickiness of his breath. You gagged, flinching as you felt the blade press tighter.
"Not a chance," you panted, daring to look him the eye.
"That's too bad," he cooed, applying enough pressure to send blood trickling down your neck, staining your white shirt.
There was a high pitched whirring and a flash of blinding light, and the wall to your right lay in rubble, the figure of a colossal man silhouetted against a burning sky. He had come to save you, to put right what he had done.
The men were dead in a matter of seconds, your wrists freed in even less, and then you were in his arms, listening to his apologies run through the air again and again. You could not care less – all that mattered was he had come.
You closed your eyes and let your protector carry you away.
* * * * *
You closed your eyes and waited for the end.
"You promised you'd always protect me from those who wanted to hurt me. But in the end, you could not protect me from yourself, could you Kuma?"
The whirring intensified, so loud you were sure he could not hear the words spoken at a whisper. You sank to your knees.
"I love you."
The whirring stopped, fading away into silence. You opened one eye, then the other as you gaped at the giant before you. He stared back at you, his eyes not really seeing.
"Target eliminated," he said, and you were sure you could hear a hint of the Kuma you used to know amongst the metallic noise.
He turned and strode away, leaving you to weep and tear despairingly at the grass beneath your knees. Kuma was gone, but he had continued to protect you long after he could even recognise the sight of your face or the scent of your hair.
But in all honesty, you would have preferred to die.
A/N: Reminder that I do not take requests and I do not continue oneshots. Rude, immature or spam comments, or comments asking for updates, will be deleted and you will be muted. No exceptions.
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