So come on, come on
I won't leave without you
If we die then we die
And I'll sing this buried with you
Violence and light
Live as if we die
My violence and light, violence and light
Hands meet, as if drawn together like a pair of magnets. Fingers lace, providing a sense of protection among terror. Warmth spreads - an effect of untold secrets. Rain falls, camouflaging the tears of loved ones.
"So this is death?" the young man adorned in white asks the man in black - who stands beside him, strong and tall.
Both continue to stare ahead. Removing a pair of black sunglasses, and tucking them away in his pocket, the man in black calmly responds, "Yes. This is death."
"How do you feel?"
The man in black ponders. "Like… Nothing… and everything…"
"Hm…"
"You?"
A smile tugs gently at the face of the man in white. Arrogance has been replaced by innocence. "Everything… and nothing at all…"
"How did it come to this?"
"An overflow of concentrated hate."
"That doesn't sound right."
"No?"
"I don't feel hate… I don't feel rage… not like I did before."
"I - Yes… you're right." The man in white nervously cracks the joints in the fingers of his free hand until he runs out of joints to crack. "How did we die?"
Both men turn from their fresh graves to cross gazes. "You don't remember?" the question is intensified by the intensity of gold orbs bouncing off of ruby spheres.
The man in white hides his demon-like eyes beneath a messy fringe of ebony hair. "No," he shyly confesses, almost ashamed to have forgotten such a detrimental detail in his existence.
"Would you like to?" the man in black places a strong hand on the small shoulder of his partner in death. His adversary in life.
"What more damage could it do?"
"The reality of it all could hurt."
"I've been hurt worse," the smaller raises a hand to his chest, as if remembering a scar from his past.
Images - memories - rip through the larger man's mind. He barely blinks, as if he is used to this by now. Using his free hand, he pulls a cigarette out of the box in his pocket; then lights it. He isn't curious as to how it got there; however, he's glad his favorite brand followed him into the afterlife.
Death is not at all what he expected.
"You were first," he exhales. "This is how I know we are dead."
"What happened?" the man in white's hypnotic scarlet eyes are pleading.
He has never begged for anything before. This is strange… terrifying… and beautiful… to the man in black. Shaking his head, he flips his dyed blond hair out of the way for a better look. Strangely enough, there is no desire to break the smaller man, whose crimson orbs seem to glow against such fair porcelain skin and raven hair. The blond doesn't want to see him hurt, and is therefore hesitant to share with him the truth of that which means so much more than just a memory.
"We ran into - no," he stops to correct himself, "-I chased you into that new building. Remember the one under construction? We ignored the signs, and the barricades, and made it all the way to the eighteenth floor. You were out of breath by the time I caught up to you."
"Wouldn't be the first time…" the smaller man smirks. Fond memories of life enter his mind.
"Only the last…" the blond frowns; a wave of melancholy fills the air.
"Please continue."
"Your knees were shaking. I dunno why I noticed. Maybe I was trying to tune you out while you carried on about why I shouldn't hurt you…"
"Ha! Probably."
"Either way… I didn't listen. My wrath took control. Grabbing the closest thing to me, I ripped a vital line of support from the building's skeleton. I was so close to using it to beat you half to death when I began to tremble too. The world stopped. Exchanging glances of uncertainty, I realized… it wasn't me that was shaking. It was the building's foundation."
"It collapsed…" the ruby-eyed man's frown deepens further. He can recall the building's massive quiver. "I hoped it was an earthquake at first… but…"
Tears well in his eyes, adding an unwarranted sparkle to his captivating gems. Dropping the half-smoked cigarette, the blond steps forward, wrapping the brunet in his arms; still as strong as they ever were. The brunet flinches, afraid to die again, even if he doesn't know how it was that he died.
"Keep talking…" he pleads with the blond, pressing his ear over his heart. The lack of beating brings on a larger onslaught of tears.
"I don't know if-"
"Please! Please don't keep the last moments of my life from me."
The man in black lets out a heavy sigh. "Surrounding walls began to crack and crumble. You backed up, looking like you were gonna run again, but fear held you still. A shriek sent my gaze upward. Pipes began to burst while the slightest bit of debris landed on your shoulder. I called your name. You were frozen. Reaching out to you, I aimed to push you out of the way…" a lump forms in his throat. He can sense the foreshadowing of his own salty tears. "I was barely too late. The ceiling caved, and I pushed you out of the way… but the mess- it was everywhere. And I wasn't enough to shield you. When I got up, the building was still quaking and moaning. And you were… gone… I could shield you… but I could not stop a pole from penetrating through my torso, and into your chest. You were dead before you could blink…"
The man in white's breath hitches as his sobs deepen. "W-what about you?"
"I pushed the pole out… and held on to you while I bled to death… the last thing I remember before closing my eyes was lighting a cigarette while the rest of the building began to collapse… I prayed you were only unconscious… I prayed I'd have the strength to protect us both… but here we stand."
The brunet tightens his grip around the blond, digging his way into comfort as reality sinks in. How in the world could this be reality? How could this be happening? This couldn't be real. They were so young… so eager… so proud. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be the end… could it…?
"Don't cry…" the blond in black runs his hand up and down over his counterpart's back.
Though it does little to comfort the brunet in white, he wouldn't want this from anybody else. He wonders if he has always had these feelings buried deep down; kept away in a tiny box in his heart. He holds on to the larger man with a sense of urgency, as if they are running out of time, knowing time has already expired.
"What are we supposed to do now?" he sniffs, barely feeling better; yet annoyed by the itchy tears. He isn't used to crying.
"I don't know."
"I had no idea… no idea…"
"Of what?"
"I always thought… there was no life after death… I always thought we'd disappear… I never expected this…"
"How could you?"
"Because! I'm supposed to know everything!"
"Maybe this isn't life after death…" the blond mutters. "Maybe this is something entirely different…"
The brunet pulls back slightly, staring desperately into his former enemy's golden eyes. "We're dead. What could there possibly be for us?"
"Right. We're dead. And we're here. And I feel…"
"You feel what?"
"I feel like… doing whatever I want… I feel like being with you."
The smaller man's chest tightens, but he feels no heartbeat within himself either. "What are we?"
"I don't know," the blond shakes his head.
"But we're here…"
"Yes."
"Is there a Heaven?" he continues to ask questions, cursing himself for not having the answers.
"I don't know."
"Is there a Hell?"
"I don't know."
"But you don't hate me…"
"No."
"And I don't hate you…"
"No."
"This place is fucked."
The blond in black can't fight a smile at the slightly snarky response of the brunet in white. Be it life or death, the comment was well-suited for his new friend; a former enemy.
"Don't smile like that!" the smaller of the two retorts, "I was supposed to live forever."
A thought settles over the larger man. He takes a long look at their surroundings. They are in a cemetery - an uncommon place for two Japanese men, from the middle of Tokyo, to be buried. To be buried… not cremated? No commemorative shrine? No spreading their ashes over the sea? Why not? A burial. A cemetery. He wonders what lies beyond the endless rows of headstones. Is their city waiting beyond the trees, flowers, and vast green? Beyond a thick fog, will they find a new world? Will Heaven be waiting or is there nothing but darkness if they leave here?
He has no idea.
He has never died before.
But he is not afraid.
"Live forever," he tells the red-eyed man, who is fighting to wipe away tears.
"We're dead," he shakes his head, denying the statement.
"Dead from the former world. Live forever. Right here."
"Here? There is nothing here!"
"I'm here."
"Yeah. You… you…" a revelation of sorts comes over the man in white.
"Live forever. Here. With me."
"But I-"
"I have a good feeling… a good feeling that we should try…"
Difficult as it may be to confess, the brunet in white senses that a warmth swelling in his chest is probably equal to the same confidence the man in black so easily expresses. Who can say what lies beyond that ring of fog until they take the steps to discover for themselves?
He smiles.
They lace fingers.
They breathe.
"This could be a second chance for us."
"There are no humans here…"
"We'll find some."
"What if it ends?" the man with scarlet eyes asks.
"We'll live forever in the next world," the man with gold eyes answers.
Satisfied by this answer, he nods, squeezing the gold-eyed man's hand. Ready to face the unexpected, they stay together as they step away from the fresh burial site, and into the thickening mist.
"No matter what, promise you won't leave me… promise I won't be alone… Shizu-chan…"
The blond smiles, truly happy for reasons he cannot define. "I promise, Izaya-kun."