AN: So, here is another little ficlet I wrote. I so hope you like it. It's almost given me a headache. It's so much easier to write fluff.
DC: I only own my dreams.
Guilt
In the middle of the archery range Doumeki was leaning over the struck down Watanuki, his hand hovering over the boy uncertain whether to touch or not. Blood kept spilling from the light-skinned boy's throat where the arrow had hit him. The choking sound of useless attempts to breathe was ripping into Doumeki's heart as bi-chromatic eyes wide open in horror seemed to look at him accusingly. Slowly all life was fleeing from those once brilliant blue and gold eyes until the trembling and gasping boy silenced.
Doumeki let himself drop to the ground, face first. He was lying next to Watanuki his hand pressed against the boy's chest right where his heart was supposed to beat. Doumeki's eyes were open. The blood stained grass was irritating but he didn't blink he just kept staring; only seeing the emptiness inside him. His face buried into the mud he didn't dare to breathe, still hearing the tantalised noises his friend had made only seconds ago while he was struggling for every little bit of air. Doumeki heard agitated voices approaching. Someone touched his shoulder, tried to turn him around, pull him away.
"Doumeki-san!"
A distressed exclamation.
"No." the archer whispered huskily, burying his face deeper into the mud, gazing into nothingness.
Once more he heard voices - Call an ambulance! Someone get a teacher! - and the sound of feet running about nervously before an eerie stillness settled around him.
"Let go."
Yuuko's calm and sad voice cut through his thoughts and resonated into every single corner of his mind
"He's gone."
"No."
"There is nothing you can do." she paused "There is nothing I can do."
"No."
He sounded desperate and forlorn.
"Yes." she said and slowly pulled the boy up.
Now he didn't resist.
"It is my fault."
"No." this time it was Yuuko who said it.
With her slim fingers she gently wiped the sanguine mud from his face and picked bits of grass out of his tousled hair. She looked at him with compassion, knowing there was nothing more she could say. He would have to understand the truth himself.
Doumeki was panting, his eyes were burning. He turned his face towards the lifeless body of the person he had wanted to protect the most. Something inside him broke as he saw the pale almost white boy lying in his own crimson blood. The arrow still stuck upright in the soft skin smugly reminding the archer to whom it belonged.
:hands out tissues: