Mitsuru knew what would happen next. Kiriyama had gotten tails with his coin flip, and now he was to be shot to death by the leader of his gang. "What a way to go..." Mitsuru thought to himself as he blinked at the gun point, which happened to be pointing at his face.
Mitsuru sighed, quietly. Now, he'd never get to tell Kazuo Kiriyama how his fascination with him was not just that at all, but a feeling of love. Mitsuru wanted to cry, he really did. But the last moments of his life could not be spent crying, he would not allow it. He couldn't show his weaknesses in front of the boy he loved.
Mitsuru clenched his eyes shut, and wouldn't dare peek. "I'm sorry..." He whispered, apologizing to God for his sins, especially his 'fagginess', hoping he could still be accepted into heaven.
After waiting several moments, Mitsuru realized his head was not being pumped full of lead. He slowly began opening his left eye, and did not see the gun's end, but Kiriyama's gorgeous face. He showed no emotion, of course, he never did, never would. "Kazuo...?" Mitsuru muttered, expecting to have been long gone at this point. "You make me feel different." Kazuo's rarely heard voice mumbed, Mitsuru feeling the boy's warm breath on his face. "I've never felt anything different. Nothing. Except around you." Kazuo pointedat his chest, where his heart was located. "Right there. It feels all warm and tight."
Mitsuru just stared in disbelief, mouth agape. His face flushed red at what Kazuo had just said, and the adorable face he was making, which almost looked like one of confusion. The two boys stared at each other, both not entirely sure what to do next. Kazuo placed his gun on the ground, while gazing over the bodies of Ryuhei Sasagawa, Hiroshi Korunaga and Izumi Kanai. Two of them fellow gamg members. Mitsuru wondered if Kazuo had felt any sort of emotion while killing these people. It probably didn't matter anymore.
This never-ending staring contest went on for moment afterwards, until Mitsuru couldn't take it anymore. He pulled Kazuo's skinny body into his arms, and captured his lips with his own. To Mitsuru's complete surprise, Kazuo kissed him back. Mitsuru had never felt so passionate in his life, as he felt Kazuo's tongue tease against Mitsuru's lips.
Mitsuru had to pull away, however, for he needed for he needed to breathe. The two red-faced boys panted heavily in unison. Kazuo looked disappointed, like he wanted more.And Mitsuru would give it to him. He held Kazuo again, but pushed him to ground, beside the gun, beside the corpses, and straddled his small waist.
Kazuo and Mitsuru's lips met again, even more aggressive and and passionate than the first kiss. They writhed and moved sharply against each other, causing breathy noises from both of them.Mitsuru's hands fumbled uner the hem of Kazuo's uniform, causing a moan from his leader.
Mitsuru felt his growing erection painfully against the fabric of his underwear, and reached his hands for his pants, wanting to take them off. "I love you..." Mitsuru whispered on Kazup's swollen lips.
Kazuo stopped all movement. He stared into the eyes of the boy above him. Mitsuru stared back, confused, wondering why Kazuo had stopped. They just /stared/ at each other. The intensity in Kazuo's was overwhelming, it almost didn't seem natural.
Mitsuru heard a loud banging noise. Gun shot. The feeling of metal on his stomach was apparent, as well as the feeling of thick liquid oozing out. He couldn't even feel the pain. Or regret. Or even loathing for the boy who had just shot him. Just intense fascination. Which was the last sensation Mitsuru Numai felt.
Kazuo placed his gun aside, and slid out from under the corpse of his former gang member. He looked over all the bodies. Ryuhei, Hiroshi, Izumi, and now Mitsuru. All these people were now dead, thanks to the emotionless gang leader, who now had no gang at all.
Kazup grabbed his gun and swung Mitsuru's day pack over his shoulder, as he walked away from the moonlit beach. Kazuo walked along without looking back. Kazuo felt something wet on his cheek, and he reached his hand up to touch it. A single tear. Kazuo shook it off, naturally, considering he felt no emotion behind it. The lone tear that was shed for the now dead Mitsuru was forgotten, even by the person who shed it.