ODE TO THE MURDERED, bonten

53

PART FIFTY-THREE !
my little dark age.

ALL YOU SEE IS PURPLE AND RED, purple with red, purple drenched in red—dark velvet bleeding all over, always bleeding in your vision that it makes you dizzy, it makes you want to throw up.

    Rindou's shot in the chest, twice. twice.

can you survive with two gunshots to the chest?

    somehow, the scene before you doesn't sink in deep and your mind's rampant with the constant thought of no, no no, no way. no—not him, anyone but Rindou. just not Rindou please.

    Rindou's shot and he's bleeding too much.

you're suddenly scared to move a single inch, scared to even breathe.

"that..." the atmosphere breaks. Kojiro's raspy voice is dripping with malice, his tone finds some sort of this light humorous lilt, then grips the gun harder between his palms and he's smiling.

"that was for killing my best friend, you sick Bonten freak." he's talking about Ryusei, suddenly exclaiming statements with anger. "how does it feel to bleed out like how you had my fucking friend burn alive in a building, huh?!"

you try to move your arm.

"don't." the gun's been dragged over to you. "move and i'll blow your brains out."

"what's stopping you from just finishing me off?" you whisper, breathless, shaking and teary-eyed.

"what's stopping me?" Kojiro repeats your question, mocking. "i just thought i'd let you see Haitani die in front of you first before—"

    "son of a bitch." you were furious, furious at his confession that all you see is red, feeling hot beneath your skin that Kojiro didn't see you reach for your gun and throw it hard, maybe too hard that you feel your elbow sting from the throw.

the metal weapon hits him in the face, surprising him, then you'd reach out to get a tight grip on his hair, yanking him down on the ground. when you stood tall in front of him, you had olive strands in between your gripped fist, with the other shaky hand you had gotten ahold of his own gun and shot him precisely in the kneecaps, his wretched screams fill the corridor but you didn't give a single damn about him,

your attention became solely focused on Rindou, you had ushered to him then, removing your suit impatiently and kneeling beside him where you tried to slowly press the cloth onto his gun wounds, applying as much pressure as you can.

what can you do? you ask yourself. perform cpr? no. call an ambulance? you'd risk the police coming. you don't know what to do, you don't—

Rindou hisses in response, your eyes snap towards him. god, you want to cry in relief, he's still conscious.

he wheezes out your name—a very strenuous effort—however you hush him, "don't talk." the cloth is heavy in your palm. "i'll push harder to stop the bleeding, so it'll hurt a lot, i'm sorry."

"no, i should be sorry i didn't see him—"

"don't blame yourself." you cut him off, you swiftly fish out your phone from your pocket, dialing. "it's not. stay awake for me, i'll stop the bleeding and i'll call Taiju okay? you're gonna be fine. come on, Rin. stay awake."