"Goodbye, Kuruta."
As merciless as he, he just pushed the knife further down the wheezing boy's bleeding chest, until it hit the hard cement roof. The blood started to leak down his body, and his eyes was wide with pain and burning scarlet, of course.
Kuroro pulled out the knife from the boy's chest and the boy slumped back on the cement. His scarlet eyes, that used to but with so much life, now looked dead beneath the vermillion hue that made it alive.
Kuroro fell on his back on the bloody ground. For all means, he felt tired. He felt dead. It didn't feel right for the killer of many, but he just felt such at that time.
He looked at the stars, a usual habit for the thoughtful leader of the most ruthless group ever known. The Benz Knife, which he had used, gleamed a starry hue from the moon's quiet glow.
He took one look on the dead Kuruta teenager. If he had not been so revenge-filled, maybe he would've lived normally – normally used on the not-so-average basis – with a life with his friends. One of them was an acquaintance of Hisoka, right? Well, maybe not meeting was really impossible.
From the depth of the teenager's eyes, he could see hopes and dreams. He could see wishes for the future. He could've seen a link to the present of life, but the past was more important to the kid. Now, he has lost his own future.
Ironic.
Kuroro took the teenager on his shoulder, and decided to bury him in the depth of the woods, by a little stream. A sign of kindness, for the leader. He did, after all, bury Uvo when he killed him, right? It can be a sign of peace.
And a sign of letting go.
Kuroro turned around, not even sparing a final glance to the makeshift grave.
After all, what could he do?
A/N: This is the Kuroro end. It's too fast for me... I don't think I like it at all -_-' Not the ruthless action I wanted to have, I don't know how. I'll try to write the Kurapika end in two days (I have so many tests at school, I can't write.), and the win-win end in another two. So, by Saturday, hopefully I'll be done.
Aaaaah.