A/N (03/06/09): Okay, I'm turning this one-shot into my collection of Yoite/Miharu short stories. All of them shall involve Yoite having a close encounter with death in one way or another. Some of them may be light and random, while others will be dark and depressing - it all depends on what mood I'm in. And just to make things clear, I don't actually want Yoite to die. I love him. He's probably one of my favourite anime characters ever. It's just fun playing around with ideas of his death.
A/N (18/05/09): Last week, my entire year-level at school – and across the state – had this thing called NAPLAN testing – a series of really easy tests designed by the government. For the 'writing' portion of the exam, we were given a picture of a box and told to write a story about it. And so this is what I came up with (obviously I can't remember what I did word-for-word but I think this is pretty close).
The Box of Death
It came in the mail that morning.
"Perfect," he said.
The box itself was nothing special. What was inside it though literally meant life or death for him.
Yoite let his gloved fingers lightly trace over the silver object, making sure it was really there. Then, as carefully as if it were made from glass, he lifted it from the box.
"So beautiful," he again muttered to himself.
The light from the window reflected off the shiny metal. The look and feel of it seemed too good to be true. He thought about what a shame it was that he would only be using it once.
"Guns are guns after all," he reasoned. "They are designed for one purpose and one purpose only: to kill."
He raised his hand and pressed the barrel of the gun against his temple.
His finger started to push on the trigger but, for some reason he couldn't fathom, stopped midway.
He tried again but his finger wouldn't move any further.
It confused him. Why couldn't he shoot? He wasn't afraid – that much he knew. This wasn't something he'd decided to do on a whim; he'd chosen this path long ago.
"No, it's not fear," he told himself and, as he said the words, he knew it was the truth.
So if it wasn't fear, then it must've been regret.
Yes, that was it. There was still something binding him to this world. And he needed to take care of it before he could move on.
It was that boy; he was the only one who could cause Yoite's resolve to waver like this. Yoite knew that by doing this, he was taking the easy way out and abandoning Miharu in the process. He had thought about this of course, but at the time, he'd believed it would be easy enough to ignore.
Now, however, he couldn't bring himself to leave without giving the boy some kind of closure.
Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a cell phone and dialed the number.
"Hello?" answered the familiar apathetic tone.
Deep inside, it hurt Yoite to hear him speak, knowing he wouldn't be able to hear that voice again.
He wanted to explain. He wanted to apologize. But nothing he said could excuse what he was planning to do. So, instead, he simply muttered, "Goodbye."
"Huh? What–" Miharu couldn't finish his question before Yoite let the phone fall to the floor and shatter into countless little pieces.
"You don't need to be involved with me anymore, Miharu," he muttered.
It was then that, with no more regrets, Yoite again pressed the cold metal of the weapon to the side of his head. "I guess this is the end."
"WAIT!"
The apartment door burst open.
Yoite's eyes widened in horror. "Miharu… how did you…"
Before he realized what was happening, he felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around his waist. The gun had somehow fallen out of his hand and there it lay, forgotten on the floor.
"Yoite…" Miharu sobbed, burying his face into Yoite's shoulder. "Don't die."
"Miharu…" Yoite couldn't promise anything because he knew it would be a lie. So, for the time being, he just let his arms hold on desperately to the last shred of hope left in his pitiful life. "Don't worry; I'm still here."
A/N: The story I wrote during the exam was actually in first person from Yoite's perspective. And it had a more abrupt ending because I ran out of time. When I told my friend about it, she didn't like it very much. You'll see why.
Here is the original ending:
I wanted to explain. I wanted to apologize. But nothing I said could excuse what I was planning to do. So, instead, I simply muttered, "Goodbye." And at the same time, I willed my free hand to press down on the trigger.
The phone and the gun fell to the ground in the next second, sinking into a pool of blood.
A/N: So… which ending was better? I'd like to know what you think.
