Three. The sun rises in the east, bringing light to a new day and all three of them still live, their destinies inescapably intertwined. Kitaoka, Gorou, Asakura. Joy, loyalty, rage.
Two. Kitaoka perishes, succumbing at last to the disease that's gnawed away at him for years. But he dies in contentment, at peace. It's all he could have asked for. The sun ascends to its zenith and there are two of them left alive.
One. The battle is brutal, leaving only scorch marks and debris where the warehouse once stood, and Gorou is killed, falling before Asakura's fury. He goes to join his master, content knowing he did all he could. The sun dips towards the horizon and only one remains.
None. Asakura's hate burns brighter than any star, and it consumes him. He lashes out at the world itself, and the world responds. He never even feels the bullets that cut him down. The sun vanishes, giving way to night and all three have fallen, their destinies having played out the only way they ever could.