A/N: Re-Upload, this one was on my old account but fear not good readers, the rewrite of Hollows With Apples is coming soon and a new oneshot will be posted tomorrow, don't hate me
When he looks down he sees genius, absolute genius. It was beautiful, the delicate swirling patterns, the twisting jagged lines, all done in the same vivid red colour. A red so intense, it couldn't possibly be found anywhere else in this world. He stares down at his creation, mesmerized, knowing it will be his last chance to witness such raw beauty, it was breathtaking, it really was.
He lifts a long slim finger to trace one of the brilliantly red lines. Each curl, each twist, so deceivingly gentle, so sharp, so full of anger. He grits his teeth together and slowly begins to tear into his work. This time, his strokes jagged and filled with fury, the red dripping down. Gradually, it tapers as his strokes become thin and winding, going nowhere. He looks up from his final masterpiece and brushes a pale blond hair out of his face to stare into the sunset. As he watches the luminous orb, swirling with color disappear beyond the horizon, he knows he will follow and vanish from the world. But unlike the sun, he will never return, so dedicates his whole self to the work at hand, his magnum opus that no one would ever see.
It's enough for him to know that if anyone ever saw his piece, they would feel his passion and betrayal. They would understand his anger, his sorrow, and hatred, all melting together in such a magnificently trivial work of "art." Izuru Kira smiles a crooked smile at this thought; expressing both his sorrow and glee as a single tear trickles out of his left eye. It falls on his "canvas" mingling with the red, Kira cannot help but think that this tiny object of sorrow completes his masterpiece.
He knows he isn't quite finished yet despite the all the pain he feels. What next? Perhaps a tiny portrait of a fox's face as an ominous salute to the man who brought about this grief. Kira smiles again, yes, a fox would do quite nicely, it would perfect his already flawlessly emotional creation. The slightly insane smile doesn't fade as he fingers the tiny blade, pressing it against his blood-soaked arm.