A shounen-ai pairing of Shinya Kougami and Shogo Makishima set after the end of season one. Gonna start it off slow, so reviewers be nice! Still gotta build up the story first, and I don't wanna just give away all the fanservicing just yet, you know? ;) (And honestly there's so much more internal stuff that would be interesting to explore between the two, so I apologize if this isn't just the usual emotional thrill ride fanfic.) Otherwise, I hope you all enjoy and stick around as I update!
Prelude
"To those in whom the Will has turned and has denied itself, this—our world, which is so real, with all its suns and milky-ways—is Nothing."
— Arthur Schopenhauer
Kougami awoke to the swaying of the ship. The eternal sounds of the ocean waves brought an unusual comfort to his mind, which had felt at peace for the first time in a long time. As he opened his eyes, he winced at the light shining directly in his face—perhaps he had fallen asleep without remembering to turn it off… or perhaps he was too exhausted from all the events of the previous month. He pulled the blanket over his face and shut his eyes again, only to replay his memories from that fateful night once more.
The clouds opened up just enough in the night sky to let down the silver glimmer of the full moon. Makishima kneeled on the mountainside before him, arms outstretched as if this would be his final moment of crucifixion. Kougami continued to pant from the chase as he gripped the revolver in his hands more tightly. He lifted it up to meet the back of the white-haired man, who began to mutter against the sounds of the lone night breeze.
"Everyone is alone. Empty. People no longer have the need for others in this society. Any relationship can be replaced, and I had gotten tired of a world like that…" He paused for a moment, as if to feign a weep. "Haven't you?"
Kougami froze, eyes wide. Even now—even with the villain at his mercy, why was it that Makishima still seemed so much in control? His hands shook, if only slightly, as he thought back to the Professor's words… maybe the two of them weren't so different after all.
Makishima continued, "For some reason, the thought that someone other than you might kill me… it never occurred to me."
"Idiot!" Kougami yelled, as his fingers squeezed the trigger. A single blast came from the revolver, and Makishima fell to the earth below. Kougami realized now that he had shut his eyes tightly before the shot—he now opened them and stared at the body covered in blood before him. A look of wistfulness was in his eyes.
Just then, the door slammed shut and Kougami was brought back to the setting of the ship. He sat up, his bare but sculpted chest cold against the frigid ocean air, and looked down at the book that the other man had placed on the table. "What's this?" Kougami asked.
"Proust," the other man answered. "Someone on board has a fancy for old books like this. This one is-"
"In Search of Lost Time," Kougami calmly interrupted. "What an ironic choice to pick, in our situation. But that's just like you, isn't it... Makishima?"
The white-haired man grinned. "You know me all too well..."
By now his white coat had become stained in a dark red that bled down the entirety of his back. Kougami stood still as he watched Makishima cough in surprise that his life had been sparred. Makishima lay against the ground weakly as he felt the blood from the gunshot wound in his shoulder gush out warmly down his arm. Somehow this was what he had wanted all along. With his last bits of energy, he spoke as he began to slip into unconsciousness: "Guess you couldn't find a replacement for me, after all, Kou..."