Even if Kiryu weren't speaking Japnaese, Cavil wouldn't have understood the words. With the sword in his shoulder, he could only hear the blood rushing in his ears, his own mind shrieking. When Kiryu twisted the blade, he screamed and then choked off the sound, jaws clenched, his breath coming out in wheezes. He tried to ball his hand into a fist, but he realized he couldn't feel it anymore, only pinpricks and the vague feeling of warm liquid. Blood. His blood.

His vision dulled and then cleared. He took a deep, unsteady breath, and then choked on it.

The others would take this opportunity to project, separate their mind from their body, green forests and church doors and everything beautiful, but Cavil thought it was stupid to live your life somewhere else, and why don't you just face reality and deal with it, but he really didn't want to deal with this, he just wanted to be--

--Angry. Be angry. Take that pain, turn it into rage, turn it into an emotion you can do something with. This was what he told himself, though he knew the only thing he could do now was make Kiryu kill him faster.

"Frakking coward," he snarled. His voice was trembling, not with fear, but pain. Maybe because his whole body was as well.