Take Your Hands Off My Neck and Hold On To the Ghost Of My Body

Are You An Angel?

Notes:

!!TW: SA themes, Implied/referenced SA.!!

(See the end of the chapter for .)

Chapter Text

Muichiro shuddered as he felt a hand on his back.

He wanted to run, to fight back, but guns were still trained on him.

All he could do was scream and pray.

His voice echoed as he yelled out, as loud as he could.

There was no reply.

"You can scream as loud as you want." Fuck Face smiled. "No one will hear you."

Muichiro grit his teeth. A hand close to his belt was the final straw, and he kicked out his leg, striking Fuck Face's leg and making him stagger back slightly.

He was immediately thrown back down onto the floor by some men behind him, and he grunted as the contents of the backpack he was still wearing dug into his back.

Muichiro thrashed around in their grip, looking for even the slightest opening so he could tear them apart.

Fuck Face regained his composure, furiously marching over to Muichiro, stomping his boot down into his chest.

"You little shit." He growled.

Muichiro gasped for air as Fuck Face moved his boot, allowing the young boy to actually breathe again.

The people behind him backed off, and Muichiro found himself able to move his arms slightly.

"I am the one in control here, got that? You have no power." Fuck Face snarled.

"I beg to differ." Muichiro smirked, kicking him again. Right in the balls this time.

Fuck Face swore, jumping backwards.

One Bullet.

Muichiro reminded himself, reaching a hand into the bag in his back.

One chance to give this prick what he deserved.

He curled his finger around the trigger, aiming as quickly as he could and pulling it immediately.

The force pushed him back slightly. He hadn't used a gun before.

There was a spray of red as Fuck Face screamed, hands clutching the side of his face.

Muichiro hadn't meant to shoot his face. He was aiming for his shoulder, maybe his arm, just to teach him a lesson.

At that moment, he didn't have time to think, he just ran. Ran before the rest could catch him. If they hadn't planned to kill him before, they definitely would now.

He rushed past Fuck Face, who was now keeled over on the floor, howling in agony.

Muichiro didn't feel bad for him.

The sound of gunfire behind him was terrifying, but he kept running, convinced he could make it out alive.

He was almost out of sight, almost free. That was until he felt the searing pain of a bullet tearing through the skin of his shoulder. He tumbled to the ground, yelling out in pain. It hurt unlike anything he'd felt before.

Hearing the sound of people behind him, he grit his teeth and pulled himself off the ground, holding his shoulder as he found the will to keep going, dragging his feet in a slow walk.

He managed to trek into an open area, taking deep shallow, gasping breaths.

His shoulder was coated in a deep crimson red, and his hand was sticky with blood.

Blood was pooling beneath him as he sunk down to the floor. The stench of his new wound was likely to attract any Zombies in the area. He could only guess what would get him first. A hoard or the blood loss.

The pain was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, and he fought the urge to close his eyes and drift off to sleep. If he did, he might never wake up.

The pain reminded him of familiar memories, ones he didn't feel like remembering.

............................................................

Muichiro trekked back up to the house, covered in blood. It took him several hours, but he pulled himself forward. He just wanted to see Yuichiro. His Brother lay on the floor, bloodied and bruised, but still alive. He was muttering to himself, eyes glassy.

"Dear God's, please..."

He murmured .

"Please spare my brother. Unlike me, he's a really nice kid. He wants to be useful...and I got in his way.."

Muichiro's eyes teared up.

"I'm the only bad one... If you're giving punishment...just give it to me.."

Muichiro reached out, holding onto his dying twin's hand as tightly as he body would allow. He could only watch as the life in his brothers eyes died, and a part of Muichiro died along with him that day.

...................................................

He'd buried that memory deep in his brain, never remembering.

It brought tears to his eyes.

Now he laid there bleeding out, just as Yuichiro had. His eyes grew even more tired. He wanted nothing more than to close them. He didn't want to die like this. It was pathetic. A Hashira, laying out in the middle of nowhere bleeding out from a gunshot wound. It hadn't even hit any vital organs. Pathetic.

He let out another raggedy breath, trying to swallow the growing terror.

He didn't even know why he was acting tough now, trying to keep the tears at bay. No one would see him anyway. People would just find his body, decayed and probably pulled apart by zombies. Just like all the other bodies he'd come across.

Genya's Yukata was slipping out of the backpack on his shoulder, and he pulled it close to him, burying his face in it. Would they rob his body of everything? Just as he had to those bodies he had found?

Maybe if he held onto the Yukata tight enough they wouldn't take it away. Maybe that's why he'd held onto Yuichiro so hard when he'd died.

He leaned back further, his eyes drooping dangerously low. The sunlight was harsh and bright, stinging his eyes.

As his eyes slowly fell closed, the light became more of a comforting glow. Was this what people meant about going towards the light?

Then he heard his name. A soft call, from a voice he knew was familiar, but couldn't place.

"Tokitou, Tokitou!"

A figure drew close, leaning over him.

The voice was comforting, calming.

"Muichiro."

They whispered, fondness in their tone.

As his eyes slipped fully shut, he felt arms wrap around him, lifting him up.

With his last bit of strength, he had to ask.

"Are you an angel?"

Notes:

WOOOOOOOOO WE HIT 10000 Words!!!!
In case anyone s wondering, no this isn't the end of the fic.