Whisper From The Ghosts Of Hope

|1| Hazy Dreams And Memories |

Juzo's hand feels extremely heavy, as though it was made of a ton of bricks, as he forces himself to reach up. He's tearing himself open further, to keep pulling down the levers. The levers. Cut the power. Cut the power and Munakata lives. So simple yet so painful. His body protests but he forces himself to keep going, he doesn't matter anymore. His own well-being has never crossed his mind here, even if it did, it was never a priority. Always Munakata. Munakata was always the priority, even when Juzo was suffering.

Still, Juzo can't help but smile as he gives himself to this cause. Juzo doesn't care about the blood spilling out over his knees, trying to avoid thinking about how weak they feel as his body keeps warning him that he'll soon succumb and fall into the grim reaper's arms, he only focuses on the one thing that matters.

Munakata Kyosuke is the only thing that matters here.

The blood, the pain, the agony, none of it matters. None of it matters if Munakata lives, smiles, is happy. Even if Juzo doesn't get to be there, doesn't get to see it. The betrayal hurts, the blade and the abandonment it represents both burn, but Juzo accepts it as punishment for his sins. For both falling in love with the man, and for his own dishonesty.

Juzo only wishes he could slip back in time to be honest with Munakata, maybe then he could spare the silver haired man of his suffering and the loss of his eye. Juzo feels like should've known that he'd be abandoned either way. Fitting punishment for his crime, he thinks. As painful as it is. As much as it hurts. He's sure it's deserved. It's just karma coming back to haunt him and deliver him justice.

"If only... wasn't...su...ch...coward..." Juzo mutters to himself, the words struggling to escape, unlike the blood seeping out of his abdomen. He reaches up again, feeling the weight of the world on his chest, on his shoulders, as he struggles and pulls down another lever. Death isn't what scares him, it's Munakata's hate, anger, pain, and suffering that scares him. But Munakata had already left him to die, so what did his hate matter anyway, now?

The blood spills over everything, his shirt, his pants, his boots. His world twists, distorts, spins, and fades as the blood leaks out of his body. Juzo is very aware of his own mortality, his looming death. The grim reaper looming so closely, looking over from behind his aching shoulder. Juzo isn't free from the shackles of his bitter regret, but he can accept death with the satisifaction that Munakata is released from this suffering. Even if Munakata never forgives him.

The life slips away from him before he can realize that Munakata is there, had run there to come back for him and to try to save him because Munakata's world is nothing without him.

Juzo doesn't hear Munakata's cries of anguish when he realizes that Juzo had just slipped out of grasp, that he was too late. Without Juzo, Kyosuke feels hollow and Juzo doesn't know. It makes it that much more painful, hurts that much worse.

Juzo just knows that no matter what, he must save Kyosuke. It's all for Kyosuke. Always about Kyosuke. Never him, just Kyosuke. Even still, Juzo knows his efforts aren't good enough.

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Juzo is overly aware of his breathing as life returns to him. He's disoriented, unsure of where he is or where he ended up. He remembers the blood, the smell, the way it clung to his body, the way it crusted up the once fluffy hood of his prized furcoat. He remembers the aching, the pain that had filled his body. He remembers reaching up to pull down the levers, so he can save Kyosuke.

"Sakakura," A concerned, familiar voice, says, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Yuki...where are...?" Juzo is still so out of it that he's unable to fully form a proper thought. Yukizome doesn't need him to, she understands what he's trying to say.