We were so close together, but the twilight has a different color now.

The abundance of kindness only keeps a distance between us

Our coldly ignored hearts are wandering in the midst

If this awkwardness is what it's like to live,

We shall close our eyes under the cold sky.

The gleaming silver weapon trembled in his quaking hands. It was as if he'd been taken by a hellish demon, lusting for redemption, and the blood of the creature that stood — poised and ready — across from him. His muscles shrieked in protest. His insides ached with a yearning to release his tool of slaughter, to let it drop to the cold ground, to lurch forward with a mighty wail and grip the opposite boy in an embrace. He wanted forgiveness. He wanted so much that he could not have, so much that his body and mind would not allow him to possess. And so, he held the gun aimed steadily at Athrun Zala's heart.

Athrun's deep azure eyes were like pools of sapphire, locked onto his adversary while a slideshow of emotions flowed across his flawless features. His tall frame wavered with the exertion it took for him to merely stand. He was fading, and quickly. Beads of sweat and rivulets of blood cried out mournfully as the life drained slowly away from him. But he was strong. He would live, if only his unrelenting enemy would allow him to. His eyes — those piercing, gorgeous eyes — probed those of his friend's as they stood at a standstill, daring him to shoot, and yet, pleading with him not to. He would not falter, would not give in without a fight, and yet, should he fall, he would fall gracefully and accept his end.

"Kira…" The words were not a plea, but a soft command.

The dark-haired Coordinator flinched. No, not now. Please, Athrun, don't call my name. He squinted his eyes shut and took a shuddering breath. It was too much for him to take. He did not want to see his best friend there in front of him, weak, vulnerable. He did not want to recognize the sharp gasps of pain that tore from his ragged lungs, could not bear to listen to the heavy panting that came from him. His best friend was still fighting, still set on destroying him, and yet…still trying to get him to see reason. Kira watched as a faint trace of hope crossed the other boy's haggard features. No. I will not allow you to hope. This has to end.

"Stay where you are, Athrun." His voice quivered as he spoke the harsh order.

Athrun closed his eyes and let out a tortured sigh, his heart aching. Oh god, did it ache. How could it have come to this? Why were they standing here, pitted against each other, two people who had once shared the strongest bond of friendship? It tore at him, shredded him from the inside out, stabbed him repeatedly until he could barely get himself to hold on. It was almost as if hope was gone, as if it had fluttered out the window and drifted off into a blood curdled sky, leaving him to rot in misery. He couldn't bare it; he wanted to sink to the ground and let destiny take him, and yet…he hoped and prayed that he would not have to.

He risked a glance at his childhood friend. His amethyst eyes were leaking a pool of diamond drop tears. Kira, please don't cry. His fellow Coordinator was seeking to kill him, planning to snatch his life away, and yet, the sight of tears on his angelic face caused a burst of longing to rise from the depths within him, and he took a step forward, his arm outstretched.

"Kira, stop crying. It isn't worth it."

"Not worth it?" the youth shouted, gripping the gun tighter, his finger trembling over the trigger. Athrun froze and his stomach lurched. "How can you say that? Isn't it all worth it? Isn't everything we've been through worth it? God damn it, you're worth it. At least don't deny me that, Athrun."

The pilot of the Aegis found himself weeping as well, quietly, his cheeks dampened with shimmering drops. He should not have let it come to this, should not have let anything come between them. He was torn between duty and loyalty, justice and his own selfish yearnings for peace. No peace would come if he didn't fight for it, and yet, he hardly thought the outcome of his current situation would bring peace or justice in any form.

"This isn't right," he muttered darkly, through teeth gritted in a mad rage of passion. "This isn't right!" he shouted, sinking to his knees and slamming his fist into the hard ground. "Kira, how could we have…"

As his name again escaped those cherished lips, Kira's resolve flickered like a candle in danger of burning out. His entire being seemed to go numb, and a surreal type of serenity overtook him. He thought of Athrun, and everything the boy had once meant to him. Athrun, with his kind, loving eyes and cheery personality. Athrun, with his care and concern whenever he was in need of someone to guide him. His stunted logic and skill on the battlefield. His numerous attempts to cut him down. His refusal to stop the madness that drove them both to hostile actions that led them to the very point at which they now stood, striving for a solution that would never come. The fear and anger had returned. And he wondered how it all came about.

"This war," Athrun choked out, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the carnage around them, "This war is madness. My god, Kira, what have we done?"

But Kira wasn't listening. He was lost in his own nostalgia of the past, seeking desperately to discover an alternate path that could have kept him from sucking away his best friend's life.

Even though we were so close together,

We can't even get a word across between our increasing distances.

Even though we were so close together, the twilight has a different color now.

Please, give us a quiet sleep under the moonlight, if it is the last thing possible.

Kira had never wanted this, never asked for it, never dreamt of it. And yet, here he was, faced with it: the need to slaughter the person he cared about most. He took a deep breath. It was for the greater good. He had to remember the death of his friends, the desecration and suffering that had been caused by the boy he was now pointing a gun at. It was fair. It was right. It was the only way. More would die if he allowed Athrun Zala to continue breathing.

"It isn't fair!" The cry tore from his throat, and Kira could barely believe the desperate shout had come from his own lips, after all the convincing he'd done to ease his conscience. He sank to his knees, burying his face in his hands and letting go of the sickening weapon.

Athrun glanced up, took in the tormented figure of his best friend. He crawled over to him slowly, wincing as his body began to fail him. No, hold on a little bit longer! He had to stem the flow of tears that dripped like rain from his friend's eyes. He had to help him heal. Kira — shy, sweet Kira — was never meant for war. He was an angel whose wings had been broken and trampled upon by those hungry beasts of murder that lurked within the depths of the battlefield. He clasped Kira's hands, rested his forehead on his shoulder.

The smaller boy started. "A-Athrun?"

"Please," came the soft whisper, "Please, just let me stay like this for a few moments longer."

Kira's eyes widened in surprise as he gasped, too shocked to grieve any longer. Suddenly his jaw clenched in rage. He pulled one hand free and again swept up his gun. Athrun sensed his movements, unsheathing the knife he kept hidden at his boot. The two of them crouched, inches away from each other, breathing hard and searching each other's eyes.

"Why? Why bother to embrace me like that?" Kira shot at him.

"If you're going to kill me," Athrun replied, shrugging carefully, "Then I just wanted to make sure you knew I wouldn't hate you for it, that's all."

"You…wouldn't hate me?" the gently boy echoed in astonishment.

Athrun tried desperately to keep his voice from breaking. "How could I?"

Kira was melting. No! He could not lose sight of everything now. He had come to do what he had meant to long ago, come to set things right and end the horrors that ensued every time he had to face his best friend in battle. If he let him live, if he let this continue, there would only be more heartache. One of them had to be sacrificed. Kira looked Athrun in the eye. The other pilot knew it too.

Athrun sprang up and prepared to lunge at the same instant that Kira lifted his handgun. The shining barrel glinted its reflection in the blue-haired Coordinator's sorrowful eyes. And just as Kira's finger closed over the trigger, Athrun halted, a calm gaze apparent on his features. The bullet struck him in the torso, sending him careening backward, onto the cold earth.

Kira screamed out his name. "ATHRUN!" He ran to his best friend's side and collapsed beside him, gripping his bloodstained shirt with white-knuckled hands, burying his face in the damp material.

"God damn it, Athrun, why didn't you make a move? Why didn't you make a move!"

Athrun's eyes flickered open slowly. "What's the use?" He laid his head back as his childhood friend sobbed uncontrollably onto his chest.

"But we've fought before!" Kira protested weakly, "A hundred times! You were going to kill me. You vowed it right in front of me, promised me as your sworn enemy!"

"But did you honestly think," his eyes were turning misty, "That I could ever really bring myself to finish it?" Kira couldn't speak. "Don't cry, Kira. Everything's better like this. Now it's over, and you won't have to suffer any more. Besides, I'd rather it end this way, with you by my side. So stop crying."

If you are going to cope with fate,

You can't go on saying you are sad or lonely.

Even if it means to break the links of words we have made together,

You would still want to say goodbye to the dull nights.

Kira trembled. He never dreamt it would come to this, never imagined it would end this way. Yet, in one sweep, everything was gone, and his hands stained with the blood of someone he used to care for…still cared for.

"Athrun, forgive me."

A hint of a smile engulfed the fallen boy's features. "I'm not holding anything against you. Just make sure you live. Live through the rest of this so you can make it to a place where there isn't any war." He blinked as he felt the drop of a tear spatter onto his cheek. "And Kira, don't cry for me anymore. I promise you, I…"

The words trailed off, and Kira looked up in alarm. The steady rise and fall of his friend's chest had ceased. And all for what? All for what! A roar of hatred and sorrow and regret tore free from somewhere deep inside him, and he hollered wordlessly into the fading twilight.

Even though we were so close together,

We can't even get a word across between our increasing distances.

Even though we were so close together, the twilight has a different color now.

Please, give us a quiet sleep under the moonlight, if it is the last thing possible.

◊◊◊

A/N: Well, that was my sad, terrible attempt at an angsty, sorrowful scene. For some reason, I had the urge to write a scene where Athrun dies at Kira's hands. I don't think I did the drama justice. Hey, I tried. I was just thinking about how hard it must be, how painful it is, to have to face someone you care about so much and have to point a gun at them. I wanted to address that inner conflict in one fell swoop. However, I think I killed it. Gomen, ne? Oh, and the italicized lyrics are the translated version of the first ending song, "Anna ni Issho Datta no ni."