Death's Second Greeting

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Blood dribbled down to the ground forming crimson blooms to your blurring sight

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Blood dribbled down to the ground forming crimson blooms to your blurring sight.

It would've had the potential of a gorgeous art piece had it not been created by a fainting mind. One slowly losing a large amount of the very liquid it wished to paint with. It heeded no thought to the reality of the situation.

A very gruesome situation.

Raspy pants departed your lips from the harsh sensation of fabric rubbing against flesh.

In your futile attempt to escape from impending threat that had awaited darkness, the mafioso had been swift enough to pin you in place. There you were against the wall, hanged in place with Rashomon nailed into your shoulder. Every subtle movement ignited more pain and blood to ooze out.

You ultimately ceased fidgeting, willing your body to stay put when it was ready to collapse at any moment from fatigue.

Taking your activity as a sign of resistance, Akutagawa pressed his notorious ability harder, receiving another gasp of horror from you.

Once you've settled to the palpating ache, a humourless grin formed on your dry lips at the thought of facing death once again, but this time, not on your own terms.

It must not be very fitting of someone who's been consumed by death in the depth of sea to be petrified of greeting it a second time.

While that may be true, the incident had only made your grip on life even tighter.

Death was the very reason behind your desire for life, not the other way around, not anymore.

Despite not being suicidal, you had still wished for a sooner closure by any natural means, just so you wouldn't admit to cowardice in the afterlife and, perhaps, relish in eternal peace. However, after your recent encounter with death, what lay beyond was blurred with a shallow surface. Like the very sea you dove in.

Who to say there's anything then?

"... Identify yourself," the strained voice of the man in black resonated in the silence of the alley.

"(L/N)... (Y/N)," you responded truthfully, growing lighter the longer this encounter continued. You had no one to blame but yourself for your lack of proper nourishment during the past few days and the excessive mental and physical burnout.

This situation would've been tolerable to a healthy body, so for the sake of a hurried conclusion, you answered truthfully and not because you were unaware of the danger of this man's identity.

On the contrary, you knew Akutagawa Ryunosuke, the Black Cloaked Hellhound, his ability and the very position he holds in the mafia. As much as you wished to forget teen, you ended meeting another character that reminded you of him.

Now that you think about it, had you looked into the Port Mafia's darkest secrets earlier, you would've had something to threaten them by. However, you didn't know the organisation would be actively pursuing you or the fact he would do something so risky for your sake.

"I could've helped..." you whispered the desire of your heart faintly to the boy who only thought about your safety when you failed to keep his. With no hope of any miraculous rescue, regret swarmed your mind as any thoughts of escape ebbed away.

"You're just a failure," Akutagawa condemned, oblivious to how poisonous his remark was at that very moment, while another string of Rashomon hovered behind him and dove to thrust its edge towards your neck.

"Akutagawa."

The dark string of threads halted immediately at the warning tone of a male and crept away as blood emerged in bubbles from the smallest cut in your neck, making you took in the very breath that was to never reach your lungs.

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