Work Text:
Jihwa held the knife tightly in his hands, feeling the handmade ridges of the handle cut into his soft, unworked palms. The fresh, warm blood on the blade slides down to stain his sleeves and the choked cries of his victim fills his mind. He failed to kill them. His first blow with the knife didn’t go deep enough, didn’t go into a sensitive area of the neck. Death will come slowly for the victim as he chokes on his own blood.
Jihwa feels puke rise in his throat and tears flow freely as he looks into his victim’s brown, familiar eyes, eyes that plead for mercy. A mercy that begs for their familiarity with one another to step in and provide kindness. Yes, Jihwa knew his victim. He had met him before and provided treats. Yet, now he’s taking his life. The mercy the victim asks for is too much of a task for Jihwa, who is too scared to repeat the action of plunging the knife deep into the other’s throat to finally, finally, hit that vital area and grant them a quick, painless death.
Even now, after trying to care for the other, after trying to become a better person, Jihwa found himself thinking about his own selfish needs. It didn’t matter that he tried. It didn’t matter that he gave gifts, a home, or food. Not when the blood was still hot.
Mumyeong approaches from behind and sighs in irritation. This was not the first time he had found Jihwa in such a state, and it would not be the last.
“Perhaps, you aren’t cut out for this work,” Mumyeong states, “Though, I thought all noblemen knew how to hunt.”
Mumyeong walks pass Jihwa and takes out his own dagger, who’s handle is damaged by age but the blade is sharp with experience. He kneels next to Jihwa’s victim, who’s chest raises rapidly as he struggles to draw air into wet lungs. Mumyeong closes his eyes briefly, as if praying, before plunging his knife into the right area of the neck, ending the rabbit's suffering.
