A screaming came across the sky. It sliced right across the air, into Kuroro's ear, then right across his brain. His face showed no sign of the piercing pain that followed. He could not tell which direction the scream came from; it was too loud and it was echoing too loudly in this hall of walls and mirrors.

But he knew whose scream it was, and what it meant.

The metal was heavy in his hands. He hoped his fingers were still curled around it and he was not just imagining its weight, but the cold was preventing him from feeling anything at all. It was even stopping him from feeling sadness. But he still had to find the body, for they were his and he would never abandon them.

He came across one of the other's dead, and took the weapon lying beside the corpse. Kuroro only had two bullets left and he probably would only need one. But taking was what he did and it was done out of instinct and habit rather than necessity. He tucked the gun into the pocket of his jacket.

Everything became heavier.

By the time he found the body, he could barely walk. The night the gun his breath his heart, all weighing him down. He went down on one knee. By then, he knew it was safe to speak. And he knew she was not dead yet.

"Pakunoda."

The still eyes flickered to life. Pakunoda looked up as much as she could without moving her head; her body was gone, with more bones broken than she could count. "Danchou..." She wanted to say something, but caught herself. If she hadn't said it in life, why say it just before death? It would make no difference now. "You shouldn't have come..."

Kuroro said nothing. Pakunoda knew. He would never abandon them.

"Kurapica..." Pakunoda choked on her own breath, but she was determined to continue. "The cop... his name is Kurapica... get him before he gets us all..."

"He won't." Kuroro wanted to lie down. It was becoming all too heavy. "Do you... need a hand?"

That would make it quicker and painless, but it would be too cruel for her leader, Pakunoda knew. "No..."

Pakunoda closed her eyes, but she did not stop smiling. It only took a few minutes. Kuroro stayed until his fingers on her wrist told him her heart was no longer beating, then he was up on his feet again, weapons left behind with Pakunoda's cooling body, and he began his way home.

When he returned Kuroro knew he would not have to explain to any of them; the woman was in the wrong place at the wrong time, she was not strong enough to defend herself. Her death was not his responsibility.

But it was. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, he was not there to help her. Her death was his responsibility. He never abandoned any of them, yet he was not there in the first place.

Pakunoda's scream rang in his ears. The cut it made in his brain was still raw. His face showed no sign of the piercing pain he felt, but it was there, just like the heaviness in his steps, and it was never going to leave.