Purple - Yata Misaki Love Story

Part 24

"I ran here as fast as I could." I coughed lightly, swallowing hard through my harsh breaths, "What happened?"
Izumo frowned, "It's Tatara-"
"I know it's about Tatara but what about him?" I interrupted, hearing the beat of my heart in my ears.
"He was shot." Izumo frowned, not looking away from me. He was sitting slumped on a bar stool and his sun glasses were placed lazily on the counter behind him.
It was dead quiet in the room, everyone sat around staring into nothing. It was two in the morning, and I had ran here in my P.J shorts and my XL sweater after getting the call about the emergency from Kusanagi, his voice was a mumble and I could remember asking him to repeat himself like five times.
This is why.
"He didn't make it." Kusangi continued, "Yata and I found him, we did what we could."
For some reason I felt like the world should be spinning, or I should be feeling a certain way, but nothing happened. Everything stayed exactly as it was, and I swallowed hard, glancing around the room at everyone who sat still like old statues - slowly cracking from the inside.
For some reason, it didn't hit me like I felt it should have, and as I looked at every ones faces, some silently crying and same huddled up in a booth with their eyes closed, I still didn't feel anything.
"Where is he?" I began, "Where's Yata?"
"He's been in the washroom for five minutes now." Shohei began, "You should check on him."
"He went to wash the blood off his hands..." Dewa trailed off, not looking away from the ground.
Slowly I moved over to the bathroom and knocked twice on the door before opening it. Yata was gripping the edge of the counter, crouching like he couldn't hold himself up anymore, head hanging low with a clenched jaw as he held back sobs.
His hands were covered in blood. Tatara's blood.
I took a cloth, and silently ran it under warm water, squeezing it out I sat Yata down, kneeling beside him I took his wrist and began to clean the blood for him. He mumbled words I couldn't hear as he weakly fought against me. I think he was trying to tell me to go away.
"Tatara, Tatara, Tatara..." He repeated, "He-"
"I know." I whispered, reaching up to rinse the cloth, "You don't have to say anything."