He takes a long breath, holding it in for a moment.
Both of them gone. He knows what Mitsuru is asking - what he wants to be done - and god help him, some part of him is saying -
'Why not? You're not of any use here, you know. Everyone has suffered all week and figured out things without you. You can't save anyone, and trying to be brave and be strong for them all isn't working, is it?'
...And it's not working. He's just barely holding himself together, especially after Shirou died, keeping a brave face. It was why he let it be known at the meeting that he'd be fine with dying, if it made them feel safer.
He has no fear of death, especially now that he knows what will happen when he does. But Mitsuru...]
I thought - you wanted to live.
Or...it's not just about the Final Protocol, is it? Or the hunger.
[And those words are like a blow, enough to make his eyes go wide with a certain childishness he so rarely displays. It's enough to stun him into silence again for a long moment before he moves again holding his staff close, almost defensive.
He wasn't supposed to know.
He shouldn't have been able to know.
Had he... really been that transparent?]
I've... known this could happen for a long time.
[Death is all around them, after all, and his Journey wasn't exactly safe either. Why wouldn't he be prepared to face it?]
["If that's how you want to think of it," is so close to slipping out, but...
But even now, he conceals that weariness, that exhaustion, that despair that comes in knowing that you've been beaten at every turn and it's time to stop and realize there's just no winning. He's survived these past few years in spite of everything, and what did any of it amount to?]
I won't... allow my power to be used like that.
[A better answer, he thinks, almost like he still has a shred of defiance left in him.]
[He's not stupid. He gets the underlying emotions here, the way he looks so tired. He very nearly says that death won't change any of what he's feeling, that he's talked to too many people who have thrown away their lives and regretted it in the end -
But he doesn't say it, letting the words die in his mouth, because...This is Mitsuru's choice.
And he's already made his.]
....Alright. Then - we should...decide. On where to do this.
[He's hesitant, but also determined - because if he's the only death this night, then so be it. Someone has to die, and everyone else - Lenka, Marisa, Ren, Mitsuru, Nine, everyone - are strong and smart enough to see this through without him.
They can do it. He knows they can.
And he'll do what he can from the other side.]
I think - maybe next to the lake. It'll...be easier, that way.
[And lead the way he does, his own eyes skipping over Cabin 3 - where Nine is waiting, and will keep waiting - feeling a momentary pang of pain before striding down over near the firepit.
The place which has taken the most out of them, but somehow...it feels right, to be done here. Where so many others have died...]
...Alright. I - how do you want to do this? I know - where to hit someone to kill them pretty quickly.
...Yeah. If you've got anything that can pierce through bone, go for the heart. I'll show you where.
[It's not long before they get there, close to the firepit - which is still glowing red from the nightly fire. Ichigo faces Mitsuru, taking out both Zangetsus and looking...grim.
It'll be - alright. Everything will.
You're leaving them behind, but it's to help.]
...Okay. Here -
[He points to a spot where his heart and lung overlap - to make doubly sure the attack will kill.]
Is where you should aim. You're - going to have to go through the ribs and some of the sternum, so...
[Another nod, and Mitsuru raises his staff slightly, chanting. His voice is thin, but the melody no less beautiful, and sure enough a thin blade of ice forms in the air, its coldness sapping the heat from around it as it sits aloft and ready. Its form is sleek and thin; enough to do the job of piercing without falling apart, but also with precision.
He holds the staff close for a moment longer, just long enough to whisper:]
Sorry.
[The spirits in the gemstones... He's not sure what will happen to them, once he's dead. They are, after all, pieces of a reflection of his heart. But after all their guidance, this, this is where the Journey ends.
And then, he lowers the staff enough to expose himself, trying to keep his eyes on Ichigo even when they're so inevitably drawn to the blades.
No. The heart. It needs to be the heart.
He takes a breath and drags his vision to Ichigo's chest.]
...Ready. Shall we count?
[A part of him recalls that not so long ago, he counted off similarly with Boa, although that was a match of beyblades and not one intended to leave them both dead.
Perhaps he'll see him again, after this. That's about the best he can really hope for now.]
[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.]
[He sees the blades begin to move, acutely aware of the quick beat of his heart in his chest as he faces an oncoming death--
That never even arrives.
He stares mutely as Ichigo collapses in front of him, having felt the wind of the slash yet not even realizing it had technically struck, cutting a lock of hair harmlessly. All he can do is watch in growing horror because Ichigo is dead but he, he isn't, and that means--]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
just the rest of this thread may be triggery so, uh. Be warned?
He takes a long breath, holding it in for a moment.
Both of them gone. He knows what Mitsuru is asking - what he wants to be done - and god help him, some part of him is saying -
'Why not? You're not of any use here, you know. Everyone has suffered all week and figured out things without you. You can't save anyone, and trying to be brave and be strong for them all isn't working, is it?'
...And it's not working. He's just barely holding himself together, especially after Shirou died, keeping a brave face. It was why he let it be known at the meeting that he'd be fine with dying, if it made them feel safer.
He has no fear of death, especially now that he knows what will happen when he does. But Mitsuru...]
I thought - you wanted to live.
Or...it's not just about the Final Protocol, is it? Or the hunger.
[Because, in the end?
He wants to know the truth of the matter.]
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He wasn't supposed to know.
He shouldn't have been able to know.
Had he... really been that transparent?]
I've... known this could happen for a long time.
[Death is all around them, after all, and his Journey wasn't exactly safe either. Why wouldn't he be prepared to face it?]
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They're not that close, and he doesn't want to trample on what Mitsuru holds close to himself, much like how he holds his staff.
So he just...nods, slowly.]
...I see. I did, too.
[Because he's always known of death - it's been his constant companion, a shadow by his side, from the moment he was born.
Is this the right thing to do? He's older than Mitsuru, he should know the right thing, but...
Even 18, he's still just a child. And in his hunger ridden state -
Maybe me dying is the answer.]
...You really - want to do this? To - sacrifice ourselves for everyone else?
[Because that's what this is, isn't it? a Sacrifice. It's two people realizing things can't keep going on like this, and -
For everyone here, I'm willing to die.]
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But even now, he conceals that weariness, that exhaustion, that despair that comes in knowing that you've been beaten at every turn and it's time to stop and realize there's just no winning. He's survived these past few years in spite of everything, and what did any of it amount to?]
I won't... allow my power to be used like that.
[A better answer, he thinks, almost like he still has a shred of defiance left in him.]
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But he doesn't say it, letting the words die in his mouth, because...This is Mitsuru's choice.
And he's already made his.]
....Alright. Then - we should...decide. On where to do this.
[He's hesitant, but also determined - because if he's the only death this night, then so be it. Someone has to die, and everyone else - Lenka, Marisa, Ren, Mitsuru, Nine, everyone - are strong and smart enough to see this through without him.
They can do it. He knows they can.
And he'll do what he can from the other side.]
I think - maybe next to the lake. It'll...be easier, that way.
no subject
He glances in the direction of the lake, eyes dragging only momentarily over Cabin 4. The last opportunity.
He nods.]
Fine. Over there, then.
[Keeping his voice calm, level. He's faced death before, tried to chase it even--
How different is this from then, really?
He waits for Ichigo to lead the way, but he'll follow.]
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The place which has taken the most out of them, but somehow...it feels right, to be done here. Where so many others have died...]
...Alright. I - how do you want to do this? I know - where to hit someone to kill them pretty quickly.
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[And even then it was more a matter of crushing them with far more power than was absolutely necessary.
Unfortunately, Ichigo's going to need to be functional enough to... well, kill him.]
...Just show me the best place to strike. I can do that easily enough.
[The summer air is warm, but he feels cold, a chill down his back.
Just keep walking, Mitsuru.]
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[It's not long before they get there, close to the firepit - which is still glowing red from the nightly fire. Ichigo faces Mitsuru, taking out both Zangetsus and looking...grim.
It'll be - alright. Everything will.
You're leaving them behind, but it's to help.]
...Okay. Here -
[He points to a spot where his heart and lung overlap - to make doubly sure the attack will kill.]
Is where you should aim. You're - going to have to go through the ribs and some of the sternum, so...
...We should - do this at the same time.
no subject
He holds the staff close for a moment longer, just long enough to whisper:]
Sorry.
[The spirits in the gemstones... He's not sure what will happen to them, once he's dead. They are, after all, pieces of a reflection of his heart. But after all their guidance, this, this is where the Journey ends.
And then, he lowers the staff enough to expose himself, trying to keep his eyes on Ichigo even when they're so inevitably drawn to the blades.
No. The heart. It needs to be the heart.
He takes a breath and drags his vision to
Ichigo's chest.]
...Ready. Shall we count?
[A part of him recalls that not so long ago, he counted off similarly with Boa, although that was a match of beyblades and not one intended to leave them both dead.
Perhaps he'll see him again, after this. That's about the best he can really hope for now.]
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.]
no subject
That never even arrives.
He stares mutely as Ichigo collapses in front of him, having felt the wind of the slash yet not even realizing it had technically struck, cutting a lock of hair harmlessly. All he can do is watch in growing horror because Ichigo is dead but he, he isn't, and that means--]