[It's - beautiful, the ice. For a moment, he's reminded of Rukia - of her blade of sheer cold and ice - and of Hitsugaya and his ice dragon. It seems - weirdly right, to die like this, somehow.
It'll make it easier for Mitsuru to get away with what's about to happen, if he doesn't make it in time to strike true.]
Yeah, sounds...good.
[He swallows, his grip tightening on his blades - noting for once that his Zanpakuto is silent.
Is it because of the hunger, or that they know this is the best way to end this week?
He doesn't know.]
...One.
[He takes a step forward, crouching down a little, prepared to leap.]
....Two.
[It's so still, so quiet. His blood should be pounding in his ears, but -
Instead, he's just calm.
So very, very calm.]
...Three -!
[The moment before he rushes forward -
He knows. He knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot kill Mitsuru. He'd known as they stepped to the firepit, as he stared him in the face as the younger boy steeled himself for death.
But he couldn't back out. Someone needs to die, and it might as well be him. And in the end -
I'm sorry.
Please forgive me for being unable to kill you.
His smaller blade merely cuts through open air, the larger one falling from his hand as the smaller blade snags some blond hair before Red's barrier pops up and knocks his hand and sword away. Before that shimmering shard of ice slices through his chest and pops out his back, blood wetly running over it as he staggers backwards - coughing up bubbles of blood and staring at Mitsuru's 'savior' in disbelief.]
no subject
It'll make it easier for Mitsuru to get away with what's about to happen, if he doesn't make it in time to strike true.]
Yeah, sounds...good.
[He swallows, his grip tightening on his blades - noting for once that his Zanpakuto is silent.
Is it because of the hunger, or that they know this is the best way to end this week?
He doesn't know.]
...One.
[He takes a step forward, crouching down a little, prepared to leap.]
....Two.
[It's so still, so quiet. His blood should be pounding in his ears, but -
Instead, he's just calm.
So very, very calm.]
...Three -!
[The moment before he rushes forward -
He knows. He knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot kill Mitsuru. He'd known as they stepped to the firepit, as he stared him in the face as the younger boy steeled himself for death.
But he couldn't back out. Someone needs to die, and it might as well be him. And in the end -
I'm sorry.
Please forgive me for being unable to kill you.
His smaller blade merely cuts through open air, the larger one falling from his hand as the smaller blade snags some blond hair before Red's barrier pops up and knocks his hand and sword away. Before that shimmering shard of ice slices through his chest and pops out his back, blood wetly running over it as he staggers backwards - coughing up bubbles of blood and staring at Mitsuru's 'savior' in disbelief.]
...Ah...Red...
[And then, he falls.]