AN: This one's a bit sick. I'm sorry.
XXX
Everything was red. Pale, alabaster skin had been stained crimson from dark splashes of vivid maroon, and the tangy metallic stench of blood was thick and overpowering as it hung heavy in the air.
Kimishima's wet, shaking hand gripped Kazuma's tightly as he desperately clung to the one person that kept him tied to his fleeting life.
"Please don't die…" Kazuma begged softly, his voice cracking as he looked upon his friend's tortured, pain-stricken face. His heart wrenched and his stomach rolled as Kimishima's fatal condition sunk into his brain.
Kimishima's legs had been crushed beneath the crumpled dash and a piece of shattered glass had sliced open his stomach, letting hot, throbbing organs fall out onto the ground.
His body had twisted around the bars of the jeep and his spine had broken around the blood-soaked steering wheel.
Kimishima gasped and floundered for air, clutching Kazuma's hand as tightly as possible, tears streaming down his cut and stained cheeks.
"It…hurts." He choked and sobbed when blood began to bubble over his lips and dribble down his chin.
"P-Please hold on!" Kazuma pleaded desperately, clinging even tighter to his friend's slippery fingers. "…Don't leave me alone…please…" He buried his face in his friend's blood-soaked shirt.
"Kazu…ma…" He tried to lift his fingers to the younger man's shoulder, but his battered, broken body gave up and went limp in Kazuma's arms.
The only sounds for a long time afterward was the soft, muted splash of blood dripping on the scarlet-stained ground.
XXX
Many hours into the night, with only a slight sliver of moon shining overhead, Kazuma salvaged his friend's body from the wreckage of the crashed jeep.
He cradled the twisted, bloodless body close to his chest and whispered all the things he couldn't say when Kimishima still breathed.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Kazuma walked them home, bidding his fallen companion a final goodnight.
XXX