𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝘽𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙙 - p5

Chapter 19

(A/N) Hey sorry about taking so long on this chapter ;-; My mental health has been rapidly declining recently so it may take some time to write the epilogue

THIRD PERSON POV

"Shouldn't have taken your sweet time, Akira."

The stranger inhaled as time slowed to a crawl, and the wind was reduced to a whisper in comparison to the deafening cries inside their mind. With a simple squeeze of the trigger, the pistol fired with a loud boom, causing the palace to slightly distort.

Crimson red speckled along the checkered floors, similar to the way a soft rain would fall down onto the ground.

Akira looked down at the golden shell casing that landed on the floor, which was now coated in blood. Black eyes trailed up, only to widen and shake in a mixture of anger and fear. His breathing hastened to a quicker pace as he could feel his stomach begin to churn.

"(Y/N)...?"

The female did not respond to his words. Her mind began to grow feverish, as if intoxicated. She stumbled across her words, her face contorting into one of pain.

“Akira…” 

Paralyzing fear spread through her body like icy, liquid metal. Her legs soon gave way, leaving her to drop to her knees and her body to collapse onto the floor. 

"(Y/N)!"

The boy rushed down to her side, his arms wrapping themselves around her body, cradling the weak girl. A single, salty tear began to drop down his face. Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Akira leaned down closer to (Y/N)'s chest, and as his grip on her began to tighten, he began to cry with the force of a person vomiting on all fours.

The intruder let out a dry laugh at the scene that showed before him. It was honestly pathetic, observing the oh-so great leader of the Phantom Thieves now cry and break down like a baby.

And he relished in watching it. After all, it was Akira’s fault that (Y/N) got shot.

The boy in question suddenly turned to face the trespasser. His eyes may have been blurred because of the tears, but he could recognize the look and style anywhere. His brows narrowed.

“Who the fuck are you?!” Akira yelled, although he had a strong feeling he already knew the answer.

“Akira, don’t tell me you really don’t realize by now.” A smirk formed on his lips.  “You’d think you would recognize your own self, don’t you agree?”

The stranger looked almost exactly like Akira, except for two key differences. One, his clothes. Almost exactly the same as Jokers, except the colors were much more darker and faded out, with a small gold crown atop his head. Two, his eyes. The shade of neon yellow that would resemble a black cats in the middle of the night; the unmistakable sign of a shadow self.