[One-shot] The madness within
The madness within
HSJ - Gen
2515 words, NC-17, Battle Royale AU
Trying to be soundless in the middle of a forest wasn’t easy. But it was be silent or be killed.
Well, it's one of those things you never think you're going to write especially when you've never actually read the book or watched any of the things, but it somehow seems like a good idea and you do it anyway. Yeah. Written for Daybreaker 8D!
Trying to be soundless in the middle of a forest wasn’t easy. But it was be silent or be killed and Yamada didn’t want to take the chance. He’d already seen enough to know that this wasn’t a joke. He pressed on, overly cautious, because if he stopped, he knew he’d see Keito’s mutilated body.
Yamada clutched a six shot revolver to his chest, but Chinen had been armed with an assault rifle and he hadn’t been taking chances either. Keito hadn’t stood a chance and the last thing Yamada could remember was the blood splatter, metallic and warm. It had stained him, clinging to him like a perfume of pain, turning him nauseous if he stopped to think about it.
He tried not to think about it.
He’d been alone for two hours now, slowly making his way through the forest. It was hot and the collar around his neck practically burned, it was almost too tight and his skin was raw and irritated.
What he was looking for, he didn’t know. What he was going to do, he didn’t know either. How many of them were left? Keito was gone, but the rest had vanished as quickly as Yamada had, once Chinen had opened fire.
Yamada’s throat constricted in a way that had nothing to do with the collar. Chinen had killed Keito. And he would have killed the rest of them if they had given him the chance. There had been something wrong in his eyes when he’d shouldered the gun, aiming right at Keito’s chest.
A sound escaped his throat and he froze, suddenly too afraid to breathe. He didn’t know how large this island was, he didn’t know where the others where. What if they found him? Would they kill him too, quickly and coldly, without even a word?
But as he stood there, beneath the forest canopy, feeling both hidden and exposed, he heard something else. It was muffled, still at a distance, and Yamada couldn’t make out what it was. Terror rooted him to the spot but he realized that nothing good could come of him standing there. Slowly, with his heart pounding in his chest, he crept towards the sound.
It wasn’t until he was considerably closer that he realized the odd sounds were someone crying. Still he carefully stepped across the forest floor. It could be a trap. Hikaru would think of something like that, knowing it’d draw someone out and Yamada wouldn’t know what hit him until it was too late. He couldn’t take chances, not after Chinen. Not after he’d seen every weapon they’d been armed with.
A clearing soon came into view and as Yamada peered around the trunk of a great oak and saw just why someone was crying.
Takaki knelt over Daiki’s crumpled body, face buried in his hands as he sobbed. Daiki lay in a heap and while Yamada could not see the wounds, the ground was stained with blood, as were Takaki’s hands and the sword that lay at his side.
As Yamada stood there, he realized that Takaki was gasping something softly, muffled by his hands but now that Yamada was closer, he could understand the words.
“I’m sorry… God, I’m so sorry. I just… I just wanted to go home. Oh god, Daiki… D-Daiki…”
Yamada slowly stepped out into the clearing. To be pushed so far to kill another, Yamada could not imagine how broken Takaki was inside. A sword, even. He would have had to look Daiki in the eye while he killed him.
You have 24 hours. If more than one of you is alive by that time, you’ll all be dead.
Takaki didn’t realize Yamada was there until he was practically standing over both him and Daiki. Everything was red and wrong as Takaki looked up and there was something wrong in his eyes too, just like it had been with Chinen, only it was a different kind of madness. This was agony. This was horror. This was ruined.
“I just wanted to go home,” Takaki whispered, tears streaking down his cheeks.
Yamada did the only thing he could think of, with blood everywhere, his boots stained by Daiki’s life, and the collar chafing at his skin.
He held the revolver to Takaki’s temple. There was a small shudder, but Takaki just closed his eyes. For that, Yamada was grateful. He could not have looked into Takaki’s eyes any longer.
He pulled the trigger.
The gunshot was like a crack of lightning but there was no thunder to follow it. Instead Takaki slid to the ground, slumping so he lay on top of Daiki in a way that looked almost protective.
Yamada was numb.
Keito, Daiki, and Takaki.
Three of nine.
He had five bullets left.
Who would kill him, when the time came?
There was the snap of twigs behind him and he whirled, gun whipping up on instincts he didn’t know he had possessed before.
Yuto stepped into the clearing. His arms were raised, but he held a glock in one hand. But his eyes… Unlike Takaki, unlike Chinen, Yamada could still believe he was looking at the same Yuto he had known before. His eyes were gentle, sad, with that undertone of harried fear that had not left any of them since they’d awoken that morning.
“You don’t have to do it like this,” Yuto said after a long stretch of silence, not moving a muscle. “We could… Ryousuke, we could find a way. Together. Put the gun down.”
Yamada gripped his revolver, taking aim. Could he make the shot at this distance? The glock’s safety was off. Yuto’s eyes were right, but everything else… everything else was wrong.
“Shoot me if you have to,” Yuto said, unflinchingly. “I could never hurt you. You know I couldn’t.”
“I thought Chinen wouldn’t either,” Yamada choked out, horrified to realize his vision was clouding as tears filled his eyes either. “I thought Yuya wouldn’t either.”
“Trust me,” Yuto spoke again, gently. “We still have time… it doesn’t have to be like this, Ryousuke. Could you really watch me die too?”
Yamada’s hands trembled but he couldn’t lower his gun, not yet. Takaki’s voice rang through his mind like a haunting call.
I just wanted to go home
“Ryousuke…”
Five shots.
Keito. Daiki. Takaki.
Yamada’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Yuto.
---
“Kouta, you need to slow down,” Hikaru said, digging his heels in and skidding to a stop. Yabu jerked for a moment, but Hikaru was like an anchor, swinging him around so they were facing each other. Yabu was staring at him, wild-eyed, and Hikaru tried his best to smile, but knew he was grimacing.
“We can’t keep on running like this, Kouta. We can be heard from a mile away, I’m sure.”
“Then what are we supposed to do?” Yabu asked, breathless, panting, and with a note of hysteria. “Hikaru, we just- You saw- Hikaru, Keito.”
“I know,” Hikaru said, his voice tight. God, did he know. But they couldn’t lose it. Asking Yabu not to lose it was asking so much, but if he didn’t get himself under control, they’d end up just like Keito. Just like Keito. Just dead.
They both held weapons, the weapons they’d been given before their release. Yabu gripped the spiked mace so hard his knuckles were going white. Hikaru looked down at his own weapon, a shotgun. It made him uneasy, nauseous. He didn’t want to think about why. Why this was happening, why Chinen had been so quick to turn on them, why, why, why, why, why.
He gritted his teeth, knowing he couldn’t dwell on it, couldn’t stop and let it fester, because Yabu looked like he was about to freak again and they couldn’t afford it.
“Kouta,” he said, his voice as steady as possible, gripping the other’s hand. “We’ll make it, okay?”
Yabu didn’t look like he agreed, but Hikaru didn’t let go until he stopped looking like he was about to bolt. The hand he was holding was streaked with blood, Yabu’s own blood, and his neck was a mess. If Hikaru’s own collar wasn’t a good enough reminder for what could happen to them, the sight of Yabu’s attempts at removing his collar was.
“What are we going to do?”
“I… don’t know yet. But we’ll figure something out.”
“Finding a hiding place would be a good idea to start, unless you want Chinen to find you faster,” a new voice said and Hikaru whipped around, fumbling with the shotgun to bring it level, bracing it on his shoulder.
Aiming it right at Inoo.
“Whoa, whoa.” Inoo dropped the crossbow he’d been holding, throwing both of his hands in the air in a quick, panicky motion. “Calm down, Hikaru.”
“God, Inoo,” Hikaru rasped, lowering the shotgun (not by much though.)
Inoo was pale, hands still up in the air, eyes wide. “I just knew… I had to find you guys. I don’t know where anyone else is and I didn’t know what would happen if Chinen found you guys. But we need to hide because I swear I could hear you from the other side of the cliff.”
Hikaru finally lowered his gun, moving into the shadow of the oaks and waving both Inoo and Yabu towards him. “Do you know somewhere we can hide?” he asked Inoo. They’d been running for what felt like ages, with occasional stops for Yabu to come to panic and claw at his collar, and the forest felt endless and relatively flat, there weren’t good places to hide, not without leaving your back or side exposed.
“The cliff had some overhangs,” Inoo said, pointing to the west. “It’s not great, but it’d be better than nothing.”
Hikaru turned the way he pointed, to where the forested cliff, the one point that rose above the foliage, with hope.
But there was a sharp pain, one that spread through him like wildfire. Intense, unrelenting, unbearable pain, but he couldn’t find his voice, couldn’t scream or cry or beg for it to stop.
He had left his back exposed.
Knees buckling, Hikaru went down and all went slowly, painfully black.
---
As Hikaru fell to the ground, Inoo yanked the knife from his back, turning and stabbing the blade into Yabu’s chest, slipping it beneath his ribs, up into what he hoped was Yabu’s heart or lungs.
But Inoo made the mistake of taking Yabu out from the front. Hikaru had been easier, he couldn’t see Hikaru’s face. But Yabu, even as his eyes went glassy, was vulnerable, surprise and betrayal written all over his face.
However, Inoo had hit his mark. Yabu could only choke as he sank to his knees, Inoo gently letting him down. He was soon gone and Inoo carefully closed his eyes, moving to do the same to Hikaru.
It was black inside his heart as he stared down at Hikaru. At Yabu. At the bloody knife in his hand. Black and twisted and it hurt.
He’d known - had hoped? - that this would happen, known it was what he needed to do when he’d taken the knife from Keito’s still-warm body.
The sound of clapping reached his ears and it was his turn for surprise as he found Chinen standing behind him, applauding him brightly.
“That was ingenious, Inoo-chan,” the boy said, laughing, his eyes sparkling overbright. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think you’d really have what it takes… guess I was wrong. That was very clean.”
Inoo dropped to his knees, snatching up Hikaru’s shotgun, but as he came back up to take aim, Chinen’s assault rifle had appeared, trained straight at his chest. Chinen was no longer laughing.
“You know why I did it,” Inoo spat out, his hands trembling even as he steadied himself. “You know I had to.”
“So you could win?” Chinen asked, inching forward, eager, tense, horrific.
“You sick fuck,” Inoo swore. He wanted more than anything to pull the trigger, right then and there. But even if Chinen was armed, even if Chinen wasn’t vulnerable like Yabu, defenseless like Hikaru, Inoo couldn’t make himself do it, not while they were facing each other. Not while Chinen’s eyes were wrong. “You killed Keito, did you think I was going to let you have them too?”
“You can’t win anyway,” Chinen said, thoughtfully, as if he hadn’t heard Inoo at all. “Ryousuke has three kills, you’d tie with him. Though I guess you wouldn’t…” For a moment Chinen seemed to falter, a brief pause as his breath caught, but then Chinen was taking another step forward, gun trained on Inoo’s chest. “He’s dead. It’s just you and me, Kei-cha~n.”
Inoo stood between Chinen and the bodies of Yabu and Hikaru. It was just the two of them. Was that what he’d wanted? No, he told himself again and again. It had been cruel, but he’d tried to spare his friends the horror and pain of surviving.
The horror and pain that he knew painted his soul and would stay with him if he managed to make it out alive.
They stood there, guns raised, eyeing each other down. Chinen’s lips twitched into a smile, though he didn’t stir a single muscle otherwise.
Chinen stood before Inoo, like the angel of Life and Death, but Inoo knew Chinen wasn’t going to give him a choice, just like Inoo hadn’t given Yabu or Hikaru a choice.
“Well, Kei-chan. It’s your turn~♫”
---
Yuto stared down at his chest, as if surprised to see the bullet hole and the blood seeping from it.
Yamada dropped his revolver, reaching out to catch Yuto, sinking down to the ground with him. “Oh god, Yuto,” he choked out, holding him close, tears of bitter hopelessness streaking down his cheeks. Yuto’s eyes were closed as he convulsed and Yamada could do nothing but cry as he watched Yuto die.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over and over again. “I am so sorry.” He wasn’t even sure Yuto could hear him anymore. Every shudder became gentler than the one before, his labored breathing eased, and then, before Yamada could even try and prepare himself for it, Yuto was gone.
Gently laying Yuto’s head in his lap, Yamada reached for his revolver again.
Keito. Daiki. Takaki. Yuto.
Four shots left.
His hands trembled as he brought the gun up again. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, the utter despair having overcome him already.
Keito.
Daiki.
Takaki.
Yuto.
Had Chinen found the others? Had the others found him? Had they killed, the way Takaki had? Were their hands stained with blood, the way Yamada’s were?
Four shots left.
He closed his eyes, pressing the gun to his neck, angling it up. He knew a part of him wanted to pray, wanted to wish that someone would survive or escape, but he didn’t, because he knew he had no right to ask for that.
His finger tightened on the trigger.
Three shots left.
---
It wasn’t the first time the Project was completed with no survivors.
HSJ - Gen
2515 words, NC-17, Battle Royale AU
Trying to be soundless in the middle of a forest wasn’t easy. But it was be silent or be killed.
Well, it's one of those things you never think you're going to write especially when you've never actually read the book or watched any of the things, but it somehow seems like a good idea and you do it anyway. Yeah. Written for Daybreaker 8D!
Trying to be soundless in the middle of a forest wasn’t easy. But it was be silent or be killed and Yamada didn’t want to take the chance. He’d already seen enough to know that this wasn’t a joke. He pressed on, overly cautious, because if he stopped, he knew he’d see Keito’s mutilated body.
Yamada clutched a six shot revolver to his chest, but Chinen had been armed with an assault rifle and he hadn’t been taking chances either. Keito hadn’t stood a chance and the last thing Yamada could remember was the blood splatter, metallic and warm. It had stained him, clinging to him like a perfume of pain, turning him nauseous if he stopped to think about it.
He tried not to think about it.
He’d been alone for two hours now, slowly making his way through the forest. It was hot and the collar around his neck practically burned, it was almost too tight and his skin was raw and irritated.
What he was looking for, he didn’t know. What he was going to do, he didn’t know either. How many of them were left? Keito was gone, but the rest had vanished as quickly as Yamada had, once Chinen had opened fire.
Yamada’s throat constricted in a way that had nothing to do with the collar. Chinen had killed Keito. And he would have killed the rest of them if they had given him the chance. There had been something wrong in his eyes when he’d shouldered the gun, aiming right at Keito’s chest.
A sound escaped his throat and he froze, suddenly too afraid to breathe. He didn’t know how large this island was, he didn’t know where the others where. What if they found him? Would they kill him too, quickly and coldly, without even a word?
But as he stood there, beneath the forest canopy, feeling both hidden and exposed, he heard something else. It was muffled, still at a distance, and Yamada couldn’t make out what it was. Terror rooted him to the spot but he realized that nothing good could come of him standing there. Slowly, with his heart pounding in his chest, he crept towards the sound.
It wasn’t until he was considerably closer that he realized the odd sounds were someone crying. Still he carefully stepped across the forest floor. It could be a trap. Hikaru would think of something like that, knowing it’d draw someone out and Yamada wouldn’t know what hit him until it was too late. He couldn’t take chances, not after Chinen. Not after he’d seen every weapon they’d been armed with.
A clearing soon came into view and as Yamada peered around the trunk of a great oak and saw just why someone was crying.
Takaki knelt over Daiki’s crumpled body, face buried in his hands as he sobbed. Daiki lay in a heap and while Yamada could not see the wounds, the ground was stained with blood, as were Takaki’s hands and the sword that lay at his side.
As Yamada stood there, he realized that Takaki was gasping something softly, muffled by his hands but now that Yamada was closer, he could understand the words.
“I’m sorry… God, I’m so sorry. I just… I just wanted to go home. Oh god, Daiki… D-Daiki…”
Yamada slowly stepped out into the clearing. To be pushed so far to kill another, Yamada could not imagine how broken Takaki was inside. A sword, even. He would have had to look Daiki in the eye while he killed him.
You have 24 hours. If more than one of you is alive by that time, you’ll all be dead.
Takaki didn’t realize Yamada was there until he was practically standing over both him and Daiki. Everything was red and wrong as Takaki looked up and there was something wrong in his eyes too, just like it had been with Chinen, only it was a different kind of madness. This was agony. This was horror. This was ruined.
“I just wanted to go home,” Takaki whispered, tears streaking down his cheeks.
Yamada did the only thing he could think of, with blood everywhere, his boots stained by Daiki’s life, and the collar chafing at his skin.
He held the revolver to Takaki’s temple. There was a small shudder, but Takaki just closed his eyes. For that, Yamada was grateful. He could not have looked into Takaki’s eyes any longer.
He pulled the trigger.
The gunshot was like a crack of lightning but there was no thunder to follow it. Instead Takaki slid to the ground, slumping so he lay on top of Daiki in a way that looked almost protective.
Yamada was numb.
Keito, Daiki, and Takaki.
Three of nine.
He had five bullets left.
Who would kill him, when the time came?
There was the snap of twigs behind him and he whirled, gun whipping up on instincts he didn’t know he had possessed before.
Yuto stepped into the clearing. His arms were raised, but he held a glock in one hand. But his eyes… Unlike Takaki, unlike Chinen, Yamada could still believe he was looking at the same Yuto he had known before. His eyes were gentle, sad, with that undertone of harried fear that had not left any of them since they’d awoken that morning.
“You don’t have to do it like this,” Yuto said after a long stretch of silence, not moving a muscle. “We could… Ryousuke, we could find a way. Together. Put the gun down.”
Yamada gripped his revolver, taking aim. Could he make the shot at this distance? The glock’s safety was off. Yuto’s eyes were right, but everything else… everything else was wrong.
“Shoot me if you have to,” Yuto said, unflinchingly. “I could never hurt you. You know I couldn’t.”
“I thought Chinen wouldn’t either,” Yamada choked out, horrified to realize his vision was clouding as tears filled his eyes either. “I thought Yuya wouldn’t either.”
“Trust me,” Yuto spoke again, gently. “We still have time… it doesn’t have to be like this, Ryousuke. Could you really watch me die too?”
Yamada’s hands trembled but he couldn’t lower his gun, not yet. Takaki’s voice rang through his mind like a haunting call.
I just wanted to go home
“Ryousuke…”
Five shots.
Keito. Daiki. Takaki.
Yamada’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Yuto.
---
“Kouta, you need to slow down,” Hikaru said, digging his heels in and skidding to a stop. Yabu jerked for a moment, but Hikaru was like an anchor, swinging him around so they were facing each other. Yabu was staring at him, wild-eyed, and Hikaru tried his best to smile, but knew he was grimacing.
“We can’t keep on running like this, Kouta. We can be heard from a mile away, I’m sure.”
“Then what are we supposed to do?” Yabu asked, breathless, panting, and with a note of hysteria. “Hikaru, we just- You saw- Hikaru, Keito.”
“I know,” Hikaru said, his voice tight. God, did he know. But they couldn’t lose it. Asking Yabu not to lose it was asking so much, but if he didn’t get himself under control, they’d end up just like Keito. Just like Keito. Just dead.
They both held weapons, the weapons they’d been given before their release. Yabu gripped the spiked mace so hard his knuckles were going white. Hikaru looked down at his own weapon, a shotgun. It made him uneasy, nauseous. He didn’t want to think about why. Why this was happening, why Chinen had been so quick to turn on them, why, why, why, why, why.
He gritted his teeth, knowing he couldn’t dwell on it, couldn’t stop and let it fester, because Yabu looked like he was about to freak again and they couldn’t afford it.
“Kouta,” he said, his voice as steady as possible, gripping the other’s hand. “We’ll make it, okay?”
Yabu didn’t look like he agreed, but Hikaru didn’t let go until he stopped looking like he was about to bolt. The hand he was holding was streaked with blood, Yabu’s own blood, and his neck was a mess. If Hikaru’s own collar wasn’t a good enough reminder for what could happen to them, the sight of Yabu’s attempts at removing his collar was.
“What are we going to do?”
“I… don’t know yet. But we’ll figure something out.”
“Finding a hiding place would be a good idea to start, unless you want Chinen to find you faster,” a new voice said and Hikaru whipped around, fumbling with the shotgun to bring it level, bracing it on his shoulder.
Aiming it right at Inoo.
“Whoa, whoa.” Inoo dropped the crossbow he’d been holding, throwing both of his hands in the air in a quick, panicky motion. “Calm down, Hikaru.”
“God, Inoo,” Hikaru rasped, lowering the shotgun (not by much though.)
Inoo was pale, hands still up in the air, eyes wide. “I just knew… I had to find you guys. I don’t know where anyone else is and I didn’t know what would happen if Chinen found you guys. But we need to hide because I swear I could hear you from the other side of the cliff.”
Hikaru finally lowered his gun, moving into the shadow of the oaks and waving both Inoo and Yabu towards him. “Do you know somewhere we can hide?” he asked Inoo. They’d been running for what felt like ages, with occasional stops for Yabu to come to panic and claw at his collar, and the forest felt endless and relatively flat, there weren’t good places to hide, not without leaving your back or side exposed.
“The cliff had some overhangs,” Inoo said, pointing to the west. “It’s not great, but it’d be better than nothing.”
Hikaru turned the way he pointed, to where the forested cliff, the one point that rose above the foliage, with hope.
But there was a sharp pain, one that spread through him like wildfire. Intense, unrelenting, unbearable pain, but he couldn’t find his voice, couldn’t scream or cry or beg for it to stop.
He had left his back exposed.
Knees buckling, Hikaru went down and all went slowly, painfully black.
---
As Hikaru fell to the ground, Inoo yanked the knife from his back, turning and stabbing the blade into Yabu’s chest, slipping it beneath his ribs, up into what he hoped was Yabu’s heart or lungs.
But Inoo made the mistake of taking Yabu out from the front. Hikaru had been easier, he couldn’t see Hikaru’s face. But Yabu, even as his eyes went glassy, was vulnerable, surprise and betrayal written all over his face.
However, Inoo had hit his mark. Yabu could only choke as he sank to his knees, Inoo gently letting him down. He was soon gone and Inoo carefully closed his eyes, moving to do the same to Hikaru.
It was black inside his heart as he stared down at Hikaru. At Yabu. At the bloody knife in his hand. Black and twisted and it hurt.
He’d known - had hoped? - that this would happen, known it was what he needed to do when he’d taken the knife from Keito’s still-warm body.
The sound of clapping reached his ears and it was his turn for surprise as he found Chinen standing behind him, applauding him brightly.
“That was ingenious, Inoo-chan,” the boy said, laughing, his eyes sparkling overbright. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think you’d really have what it takes… guess I was wrong. That was very clean.”
Inoo dropped to his knees, snatching up Hikaru’s shotgun, but as he came back up to take aim, Chinen’s assault rifle had appeared, trained straight at his chest. Chinen was no longer laughing.
“You know why I did it,” Inoo spat out, his hands trembling even as he steadied himself. “You know I had to.”
“So you could win?” Chinen asked, inching forward, eager, tense, horrific.
“You sick fuck,” Inoo swore. He wanted more than anything to pull the trigger, right then and there. But even if Chinen was armed, even if Chinen wasn’t vulnerable like Yabu, defenseless like Hikaru, Inoo couldn’t make himself do it, not while they were facing each other. Not while Chinen’s eyes were wrong. “You killed Keito, did you think I was going to let you have them too?”
“You can’t win anyway,” Chinen said, thoughtfully, as if he hadn’t heard Inoo at all. “Ryousuke has three kills, you’d tie with him. Though I guess you wouldn’t…” For a moment Chinen seemed to falter, a brief pause as his breath caught, but then Chinen was taking another step forward, gun trained on Inoo’s chest. “He’s dead. It’s just you and me, Kei-cha~n.”
Inoo stood between Chinen and the bodies of Yabu and Hikaru. It was just the two of them. Was that what he’d wanted? No, he told himself again and again. It had been cruel, but he’d tried to spare his friends the horror and pain of surviving.
The horror and pain that he knew painted his soul and would stay with him if he managed to make it out alive.
They stood there, guns raised, eyeing each other down. Chinen’s lips twitched into a smile, though he didn’t stir a single muscle otherwise.
Chinen stood before Inoo, like the angel of Life and Death, but Inoo knew Chinen wasn’t going to give him a choice, just like Inoo hadn’t given Yabu or Hikaru a choice.
“Well, Kei-chan. It’s your turn~♫”
---
Yuto stared down at his chest, as if surprised to see the bullet hole and the blood seeping from it.
Yamada dropped his revolver, reaching out to catch Yuto, sinking down to the ground with him. “Oh god, Yuto,” he choked out, holding him close, tears of bitter hopelessness streaking down his cheeks. Yuto’s eyes were closed as he convulsed and Yamada could do nothing but cry as he watched Yuto die.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over and over again. “I am so sorry.” He wasn’t even sure Yuto could hear him anymore. Every shudder became gentler than the one before, his labored breathing eased, and then, before Yamada could even try and prepare himself for it, Yuto was gone.
Gently laying Yuto’s head in his lap, Yamada reached for his revolver again.
Keito. Daiki. Takaki. Yuto.
Four shots left.
His hands trembled as he brought the gun up again. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, the utter despair having overcome him already.
Keito.
Daiki.
Takaki.
Yuto.
Had Chinen found the others? Had the others found him? Had they killed, the way Takaki had? Were their hands stained with blood, the way Yamada’s were?
Four shots left.
He closed his eyes, pressing the gun to his neck, angling it up. He knew a part of him wanted to pray, wanted to wish that someone would survive or escape, but he didn’t, because he knew he had no right to ask for that.
His finger tightened on the trigger.
Three shots left.
---
It wasn’t the first time the Project was completed with no survivors.