"It..hurts.." When Kurosaki spoke, the metallic taste in his mouth, he wasn't talking about the hole in his stomach. Not the knife that had been lodged into his flesh. Not even the black blobs dotting the edges of his vision, making it hard to maintain focus on his best friend. I want to go home. His head didn't quite line up with his heart, which was where he was spilling his feelings from into the cold silence. "I'm..sorry..*hack*.." The blood bubbling into his throat made it hard to breathe, much less talk. "I wasn't..a very good friend...was I?" Kizami's presence looming above him was freezing, heartless, soulless and yet, he didn't stop. Kurosaki knew no matter what he said, it would result in his death. And yet…"I ignored you. I could've helped you...if I had just
paid more attention..*cough*..if I had listened better.." In the darkness of the room, his best friend was the only light shining left in his eyes. Dim, yes, but never gone...even if it flickered...himself, on the other hand…"I won't leave you alone again. I thought I understood, but...h help me...t try again..?" Kurosaki's skin begged for warmth, for a touch, to show him he was still there. A comfort, even in his last moments, that he was not who he appeared to be. Kurosaki got no such compassion.
"AGH !" He shook and twitched uncontrollably, weakly grasping at Kizami's foot to stop him from slowly pushing the knife inside him, once more. I want to go home. I want to go home! His face never cracked in the slightest, showing not a single sign of regret, or even disgust at the sounds of his organs being sliced through, and the blood spurting from his fresh wound all over his
shoe. Let me out. Let me out! I'm not supposed to be here! Kurosaki was vomiting onto the floor, the warm, chunky puddle of crimson soaking into his clothes. It hurt. It hurt more than anything. And still, the worst pain was watching his best friend rip the blade out from his body, a crazed smile across his lips as he started ripping him apart, piece by piece. He was enjoying it. He enjoyed the agony he put his 'best friend' through, watching him scream and cry, especially
when he told him how useless he was, and that they were never, ever, friends. "All you are to me...is a plaything...all those years of trying to befriend me...where has that got you, Kurosaki? How does it feel?" He laughed hysterically while disemboweling the boy, whose soul had already been taken, and held locked in place by the school.
But he watched.
He watched and waited, and waited and watched. The suffering still following and reminding him of his status, never relenting for long at all. Kurosaki would wait for him for an eternity if it meant he could be with him again, hear his voice once more the voice of his mature, quiet best friend.
If only he could get another chance to make things right.
