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His expression was blank, the man’s words echoed in his ear, his charge had been successful; so why was this man still taunting him? His mind couldn’t fathom it, or why his hand moved in the way it did; it was a matter of instinct, movements he had driven into his own body, to fire the gun.
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But there was that drive, just an echo of the person he was trying to be, as he let the clip fall from the gun, and replaced it with a fresher one…Why had he taken this out with him? Why had he loaded it? Had he expected to fall down this path again? Like a cursed mark that one couldn’t remove, a stain on his skin, a stain on his soul.
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He wasn’t any better a person than before, he hadn’t made up for any sins.
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He was simply pretending, and that pretend was why the first bullet had missed, forcing the sights away from Hitoshi, but he trained it on the man again. ”You really want to die huh? Well, I’ll…”
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”Grant your Wish.”
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As for Crawdaunt and Kingambit, the battle was reaching the fever pitch, he had no choice in that moment, the pokemon felt the darkness gather around his own claw; a knock-off, like a vagrant swinging up at the king, and he charged before his jump, a downwards swing to meet the night slash.
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It was a decisive blow, just as much for him as it was for the other, but a blunt strike against such a sharp sword; especially against his softened shell…It was decisive, as the world went black for Crawdaunt, his head flew; a spray of blood painted the insides of the cavern.
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For his opponent, even a fist fight was a deadly sword fight, a rule that Crawdaunt should have known.

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