Morality || Bonten Timeline x Reader || UNDER MAJOR EDITING

47

You watched in horror as the blood began to pool around Kakucho's body, freezing up.

You weren't supposed to freeze.

You were a doctor. You were used to this.

"Get in the truck." Chifuyu didn't turn to look at you.

"She's not going anywhere," Hanma licked his lips, eyes glinting with a golden hunger beneath the streetlights, "at least not with you."

"Get in the fucking truck," Chifuyu's voice was forceful and you dragged your eyes from Kakucho to the shaky arm that held up the gun.

Your brother called your name urgently.

Chifuyu still didn't turn to look as he shoved you further behind him. "I said get in the truck."

"And I said she's not going to." Hanma stepped forward, nudging Kakucho's corpse out of the way, "I'll shoot all of you."

"I'll shoot you first." Chifuyu fought to keep his voice strong.

"(Y/n) please." Kazutora called. You finally turned to look up, your big brother reaching out a hand.

"He's gonna shoot him." Your words came out in a quiet wail. "He killed Kakucho."

"I know, little tiger we gotta go now." Kazutora begged.

"I can't let you guys get hurt," you spoke softly, "you know I can't Tora."

"(Y/n), get in the truck," Chifuyu pleaded.

Hanma's gun went off once more, then Chifuyu's.

The smaller male dropped to the ground in front of you and you rushed to his side, "I'm so sorry."

His turquoise eyes welled with tears as his hand pushed the gun to me. "Go."

You stood up reluctantly, watching as his breathing grew shallow, red painting his shirt. The bullet hit right above where his kidney was.

You shakily held the gun out at Hanma and he barked out a laugh.

Shouted curses rang out from the entrance of the restaurant.

"Come on baby, you won't shoot me," Hanma grinned lazily.

"I'll fucking do it Hanma." You steadied your arm with your other hand.

"I'll shoot your brother." His eyes grew wide, "and you can already see I don't miss."

"(Y/n)." Your brother whispered.

Everything was too sudden for you and you knew you couldn't let anyone else be hurt.

You laid down the gun, Kazutora yelling, Hanma laughing as he walked towards you, grasping you by the arm.

"Let's go baby."

He rushed you to a car as the shouting grew louder, Kazutora's voice reigning over the rest.

But you could hear them; Rindou, Takeomi and Mochi, all yelling for you.

You were shoved into the passenger seat, Hanma quickly sliding into the drivers.

The engine started and the tires squealed.

From behind the dark tinted windows, you could see your brother aiming a gun. You ducked your head as shots went off, Hanma cackling loudly.

"Isn't this exciting baby?"

You looked back in horror. The body of your brother laying in the street was faint with the darkness of the night and the tears in your eyes but would be burned into your brain for as long as you lived.

You reached for the car handle, not caring about the speed of which you were being driven at.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Hanma snarled, cold barrel of his gun pressed against your temple.

The door was locked anyways.

"Shoot me." You turned to look him dead in the eye. He could only glance between you and the road, but you kept your glare fixed on his face, "shoot me pussy."

His smile faltered slightly before he cackled, "you always were a bit fucked in the head weren't-"

"Fucking shoot me Hanma. I'd rather you fucking blow my brains out right now so I don't have to spend another fucking second in a world with you."

Your words wiped the grin clean from his face, all traces of laughter vanishing.

"That's not what you say to someone who's saved you."

"You didn't fucking save shit, Hanma."

His brow furrowed and grip tightened on the gun, "what, were you whoring around with them? You enjoying their company, you fucking slut?" He spat out, "cause that's what you do, right? Crawl to the first man who gives you attention? All because your daddy made you feel like you could never be loved beyond your physical appearance?"

"And you're just a deranged psychopath who has never once had anyone care about you, because there's nothing to care about. Your mother killed herself because she didn't want to live with such a fucking abomination of a child." You fired back.

His foot slammed into the break, sending you right into the console of the car due to your lack of seatbelt.

He looked over you, gun to your head and hand to your throat. His grip was brutal, crushing your windpipe immediately, "you cared about me."

"I pitied you," your words were a gurgled mess.

His golden eyes searched yours for the girl who baked him cookies and patched him up. The girl who would shake her head in a laugh anytime he told her something stupid. Who would stay up late and watch terrible movies with him, criticising them over burnt popcorn and convenience store food.

He couldn't find her.

He removed his hand from your throat to keep driving, swerving around cars as you hacked out coughs, tears running through the tracks of your face.

"I stopped caring about you when you stopped caring about me Hanma," you forced out, every word feeling like nails down your throat.

"I never stopped caring about you. I am the only one who cares about you. Who will ever care about you." You watched as he lay his gun in his lap, attention back on the road. The muscle in his jaw ticked in a steady rhythm.

You couldn't help but laugh at this.

It was a painful, guttural wheezing as you shook your head.

"You care only about yourself and what you can gain from other's misery." You rasped, "you're a fucking parasite, Hanma. A miserable, pathetic leech."

His hand whipped out, and the last thing you saw was the butt of his gun.