purrtagonist | [Day 10, night: Ichigo; CW: lots of blood and injuries]

[Akira's about to ask him to share his other poems, but. yeah. a staircase up? that's suspicious]

[he pauses in front of it, expression hardening]

How many floors do you think are in this place?

In total? If they keep giving us floors every killing night, then there would be six, wouldn't there?

[A floor for each killing night, right?

But...]

...Then again, six floors would make this place pretty damn big. Why don't we go up there and see what it's like?

That's assuming there will only be six killing nights.

[AND HE DOESN'T. . . HAVE MUCH FAITH ABOUT THAT, HONESTLY]

[but at Ichigo's question? his mouth quirks into a confident grin, and he hooks his index finger into the edges of his gloves, pulling them down tightly over his hands]

Nothing risked, nothing gained.

Let's go.

[and he immediately strides up the stairwell, the tails of his coat fluttering behind him]

[HE'S OPTIMISTIC, LEAVE HIM ALONE.

Ichigo just nods, quickly following Akira (while noting how stupidly cool Akira's coat looks in motion, god damn) up the stairs, until they're all the way up there.

The floor looks...dusty. It obviously hasn't been used or maintained as much as the other three.]

...This might actually be the last floor - look at this place.

[it's funny, how Akira seems to move with way more confidence when he's in this outfit compared to his school uniform or casual wear. funny how that works!]

[the floor looks dusty, and the hallway stretches out before them, seemingly unending. most the overhead lights work, but a few of them are burned out, and Akira frowns]

It's a mess.

. . . I wonder what they're keeping up here.

[and he presses forward, giving Ichigo the briefest of glances as he does so]

Probably all the stuff they didn't want us to see when we first came here.

[He meets that glance with a determined look as they press forward, down the corridors. None of this looks well maintained, and as they keep going, the dust intensifies and the lights dim and flicker out, until they're eventually just forced to walk in darkness for a long stretch of time.

Ichigo stays silent while they walk, keeping his eyes peeled for danger - until there's suddenly a light ahead of them, coming from a tiny window in a door absolutely covered in caution tape.]

What...? Is that -

[He moves closer, noting the writing stuck to the glass and that the caution tape on the door comes off easily if you pull it - and a smirk comes to his lips.]

...Akira - I think we might've just found what we were looking for.

[Akira is also quiet while they walk, especially when the lights go out. because that is never a good sign (he's genre savvy enough to know this). his fingers flex and curl around the handle of his knife, too. . . just in case]

[he can't help the feeling of triumph when they stumble across that tiny, brightly lit window indented on a door covered in caution tape]

Jackpot.

[and while Ichigo tears off that caution tape, Akira's going to try the handle. which is, of course, completely locked]

Looks like we'll need to force our way inside.

Do you want to try one of your lockpicks on it, or should I try busting it down?

[He piles the caution tape into a corner as he works, and soon it's all gone.]

...Kind of weird that they don't have any guns or weapons guarding this door, though. You'd think there'd be something.

[Akira draws a lock pick from his pocket in response]

No that much force. We don't want to draw anyone's attention.

[LEAST OF ALL THE ATTENTION OF THOSE SHITTY RACCOONS. and with that, Akira kneels in front of the door, lock pick in hand, and gets to work]

There's likely a reason a sign and caution tape is the only security they have. [he speaks while he works, nimble fingers flying across that lock] Be careful when we go inside.

Right. I just thought it was a little...well, subtle for them.

[Because, well.

The raccoons are not subtle in the slightest. He keeps his eyes on the corridor behind them as Akira works, listening for the horrible sound of plush raccoon feet stomping on the floor.]

I'll follow your lead - you're the thief here, not me.

[a laugh, short and dry]

Comparatively, you're right. This is subtle, and maybe that's the point.

[it isn't weird at all to hear Ichigo willingly placing his faith in Akira as a leader. his team did it all the time back home, after all. so when the lock finally gives way with a click, Akira stands, twists the knob, pushes the door open, and makes sure he's the first one to enter. just as a leader should]

Stay behind me. Follow my every move, and go slowly, all right?

[the room ahead may be lit, compared to the hallway behind them, but who knew what waited ahead of them?]

Edited 2018-01-01 07:18 (UTC)

Sure. Just didn't think they were smart enough for something like this.

[He nods, letting Akira go first as they enter the room - which is decently sized, even if most of it is obscured by the large curtain a couple of feet away from the door.]

...Why the hell is there a curtain in here?

[That's hissed out in a stage whisper, and as much as he wants to reach out to shove it aside, he doesn't. That's Akira's job, and he just continues to look around the room, stepping wherever Akira does, trusting in his confidence and abilities as a phantom thief.]

Edited 2018-01-01 07:25 (UTC)

[later, when Akira reflects on this moment, he'll be glad that Ichigo let him go first. if only because he'll be glad that Ichigo wasn't the first one of them to suffer from his sheer stupidity.]

To hide something. What else?

[Akira's voice is a bit louder than a stage whisper, but his words are still murmured quietly. he moves forward with cautious, almost silent steps, and once he's close enough his gloved fingers close around the curtain and grip it tightly. with a breath, he prepares to draw it back--]

[the lights flicker, then shut off. something clicks in front of them, behind them, all around them. the sound of a bullet settling into its chamber is crisp and clear, the barrel leveled right at Akira]

[and then the sharp rapport of a gunshot slices through the silence as the Rube Goldberg Machine hidden in the crannies of this room suddenly burst to life]

[In hindsight, Ichigo will just wish he'd followed his gut - the sense that something was wrong, that this room should have been more trapped than it was, that they shouldn't have touched the curtain.

But in the moment? When the lights in the room go out, and the noises start? Ichigo's eyes go wide, trying to figure out exactly where it's coming from, ice running down his spine -

The clack of a bullet is what gets him to move, instantly grabbing Akira's coat from the back and yanking them both down as the gun goes off.]

Shit! We need to -

[Behind them, the door they walked in on slams shut, the click of it automatically locking and trapping them both inside, in the dark of a room coming to life with what has to be a myriad of horrible, horrible traps.]

No!

[Everything has just gone wrong.]

[Ichigo is the reason Akira doesn't die, right here and right now, with a bullet lodged in his brain. the sound of a gun cocking and loading in preparation for fire hadn't escaped his notice, but Ichigo is just one second faster than him in reacting. and later, when they're both bruised and bloodied but still very much alive, Akira won't be able to thank him for that one single second enough]

[he goes down, hits the ground hard, but even then he feels burning, liquid metal sear his cheek as he goes. the pain is sharp and white hot, followed by the feeling of blood trickling down his chin, dripping onto the ground]

[he moves, reaching instinctively for Ichigo's arm, grasping it tightly as he pulls himself to his feet. but he stays crouched on the ground, especially since he can't see in this darkness, and especially since they're still surrounding by ominous clicking and whirring and buzzing]

-- out! We need to get the hell out of here!

[abort mission!!]

[He holds back to Akira's arm, just as blind as the other teenager - but this isn't entirely unfamiliar to him, and he gets to his feet, still crouched as well but moving forward, nearly dragging Akira with him.

Out, out - with no light from the hall, they can't see where the door is, and the rough fall has disoriented him. Still, he tries to get to one side of the room, so they can feel their way out -

Shing.

The sound of something sharp swinging through the air breaks through the noise of the room, followed by a sensation unbearably familiar to Ichigo - the sensation of being sliced with a sword.]

Ghhk-!

[Pain lances through him - a pain that's much more intense than he's used to, given that the pain in shinigami form is somewhat lessened - and he feels his blood drip to the ground from a newly opened wound on his arm. It seems to be shallow enough to let him move his arm, at least - even as it burns and warm fluid runs down to his hand.

But if Akira is still alright, it's fine. Gritting his teeth, he reaches out to the wall with his bloodied hand, tugging Akira with him when he gets a hold of it so they're against it together.]

The-The door-

[They need to get to the door. They need to get out, before they both fall victim to the traps inside this room.]

Edited 2018-01-01 10:46 (UTC)

[he doesn't have to do much dragging. Akira goes willingly, keeping pace without much trouble, especially since he's used to scrambling about while crouched low to the ground. thank you, phantom thief experience]

[he hears that shing, hears the noise of metal cutting through flesh and blood spattering on the ground. with a curse, he scrambles to position himself in front of Ichigo, both relative to (where he thinks) the door is and relative to (again, where he thinks) the Rube Goldberg machine of death is located]

Are you-- [no. there's no time to ask if Ichigo's okay. he'll have to do that later. so long as Ichigo is moving, so long as he can speak, then he has to be fine]

This way!

[he starts moving to the left, sliding against the wall with his back pressed against it, never letting go of Ichigo's arm, quietly hoping he isn't grasping the injured one]

[he's so focused on moving that he doesn't register the next threat until another gunshot rattles his brain, until another bullet tears through the calf of his leg, sending him tripping and nearly sprawling back onto the ground. DON'T FALL WITH HIM, ICHIGO]

Fuck--

Fine, just go-

[In the course of all the injuries he's suffered, a cut on the arm barely qualifies. It still hurts, but he can keep moving and ignore it. What he can't ignore is Akira moving in front of him, still holding his uninjured arm, because - in this place, where they both can't see, and the likelihood of both of them dying in this god-forsaken room goes up every second they're in there. He wants to grab Akira back, be the one who's in front, the one who'll take the wounds -

But the gun fires as they're both pressed against the wall, and Akira falls. And for a moment, Ichigo fears the worst, his heart in his throat as he fights to keep his balance against the wall - until Akira speaks and he rushes forward to help pick him up.]

Aki -!

[Another unseen blade lashes out, metal slicing through his chest this time, uncomfortably deep and reminding him of past fights back home even as he makes another choked, pained sound - determined not to yell or scream from whatever this horrible trap does to him.]

D-Damnit-

[Ignoring the pain (searing, burning, why the hell does it hurt so much), he tries to get Akira to his feet, even with whatever wound he's just suffered, hoping that at the very least Akira can get out without much damage, even if he himself dies here.]

Akira!

[he wants to yell I'm fine, keep moving! so Ichigo isn't slowed down by his injury. but before he can, he can hear Ichigo moving through the darkness, hear the swish of another blade, the dull thud of it connecting with warm flesh, more spattering and dripping as blood paints their dark surroundings red]

[and for a moment Akira, too, fears the worst, his heart immediately lodging itself into his throat. until he feels Ichigo yanking at his shoulder, trying to pull him to his feet, and he lets out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. thank fuck]

[Akira scrambles up with little resistance, but his injured leg is no good. he braces himself on the wall again, limping froward much more slowly than before. the death machine whirs on]

Next time I fall, keep going. Don't let me slow you down!

[god he hopes they're heading in the right direction. they've been. . . lucky-ish so far, but the longer they're in here, the greater the probability that one of those traps hits something deadly rises]

Like hell I'm leaving you behind!

[The conviction in his voice rings out, clear as day - because to leave Akira behind would be like leaving his own heart behind, his own ideals and morals. He would never let himself run when a friend needed him, let alone someone so important to him as Akira, someone who he;s realized he's in love with.

He takes the lead again, careful to keep pace with Akira, not wanting him to fall behind. His arm feels out along the wall, every movement feeling like it takes a year while the machine ominously rumbles and clacks and buzzes - and when his fingertips finally brush against a corner of the room, he nearly feels like yelling in relief.]

Okay, we're at a corn-

[BANG.

This time, a pain unlike any he's ever suffered before thrums up his spine - he's never been shot before. The wall behind him is painted red yet again, the dull whrr of the bullet boring into plaster somehow loud in his ears. It's sharp and somehow hot, the pain - and he can feel blood leaking onto his hip from the bullet hole in his side, the bullet having passed straight through, somehow missing anything vital but still having punched through his flesh.

He bites down a scream, bodily tugging Akira to the other wall he's felt is there, making sure his back is against it before forcing himself to move again.]

Hurry...The - The door has to be close...!

[Akira is the only one who can open it, out of the two of them. He has to make it there, above all else.]

Edited (phrasing) 2018-01-01 23:47 (UTC)

[the sharp rapport, the sound of a bullet bearing into the wall so close to where they're standing, drowns out everything else around them. for a moment, all Akira can hear is static, white noise, as his blood runs like ice through his veins. Ichigo is speaking, but what he's saying isn't important, because with a gunshot that close, with it not having hit Akira, there's no way it didn't--]

[he pushes away from the wall-- mistake number two, if breaking into this room is considered mistake number one-- and steps in front of Ichigo, hand grasping one of his shoulders.]

Hey--! Where did it hit you?!

[please say nowhere vital, please say nowhere vital]

[though it's with those words playing on repeat in his head that Akira's second mistake becomes apparent. metal grinds rhythmically behind him, something sharp dragging across something dull, before it whooshes through the air--]

[it catches Akira on the back, from his shoulder to his waist, just to the right of his spine, tearing through his jacket and skin and muscle. any further left, and it probably would have been a far deadlier blow. with a strangled cry of pain caught in his throat, he pitches forward with the force of the blow until his forehead is pressed against Ichigo's shoulder and he's heaving in deep, startled gasps of air. warm liquid seeps through what remains of his jacket, pooling at the hem of his pants at his waist]

[fuck]

[it burns. worse than the bullet grazing on his cheek. worse than the injury on his leg. it burns, and his vision swims, and yet he pushes himself through it to tug against Ichigo's shoulder again]

Come on--

[don't let Akira's concern let him get taken off guard again]

No, don't-

[He's too late, too late to react as the blade swings down and slashes home, feeling Akira's head press against him (and his body against the wound on his chest, bringing with it another flash of pain that makes him see stars for a moment) and hearing him struggle for breath.

No. No, goddamnit - Ichigo might be used to this, used to being cut and hurt, but Akira's reaction to it tells him all he needs to know. Akira may be a thief, and used to fighting his way out of things, but not like this - and he'll be damned if he lets the person in front of him, the person he cares for so much, be hurt anymore than this.

He doesn't care about the traps anymore. He doesn't care that he might be killed trying to get them both out - all he cares about is getting Akira out, and getting him to safety. That's what propels him forward, half-dragging, half-carrying Akira forward, protecting him by placing him the closest to the wall while Ichigo is beside him, heedless of another blade swinging down on his shoulder and opening his flesh yet again or the noise of a gun going off and actually missing the two of them for once.

The feeling of the doorframe against his palm is so, so welcome, and he purposefully lets Akira go in front of it, standing in front of the thief at his full height instead of the hobbled crouch they'd been doing since they mistakenly entered this horrific room.]

Open it!! I'll cover you, just go!

[And while he's staring down an unknown enemy - the horrible machine that's taking its pound of flesh from both of them, regardless if they want it to or not - for the first time since he's woken up in this school - Ichigo finally, finally feels confident again, as tempered as it is through fear and pain.

Because if there's anything that he knows he can do, it's that he can protect.]

[. . . he can tell what Ichigo's doing by the rough way he handles him, shoving him aside, keeping him pressed against the wall while Ichigo crowds him from the front like a shield. he wants to protest this treatment (I can handle it, I've had worse!), but the pain in his back is maddening and the words won't come. adrenaline can only drown out so much]

[god, he wishes he has his Personas on him. he's suffered his fair share of horrible injuries inflicted by Shadows in the Metaverse, but each one of those had been treated with a quick Diarahan when capable. these? there's no quick fix for these. there's no shower of green sparkles that washes away the pain and clears his head for the battle ahead. he needs to push through, though. because Ichigo is doing too much, putting himself in too much danger, and Ichigo is counting on him to get them out of here alive]

[he stumbles, catches himself on the door when his fellow captive pushes him forward]

Damn it. . .!

[that's directed at Ichigo for once again putting himself in danger, but there isn't any time to protest. for a moment, he braces himself against the door, eyes slipping shut as he tries to focus through the pain, through the sound of his heart beating in his ears. and when he opens them again, he tilts his chin up, grabs the lockpick in his coat pocket, and crouches down to get to work]

[his fingers fumble. breaking out isn't going to be nearly as easy as breaking in. but he has someone relying on him, and he'll be damned if he lets him down]

[Ichigo doesn't respond, for fear of distracting Akira as he works, knowing the adrenaline flooding through his system is going to make the phantom thief clumsy and not as coordinated, especially since they're under the threat of death from the machine in the room.

But as he stands there, blocking any attacks from reaching Akira, he closes his eyes - listening to the beat of his heart, aware that he's the only thing standing between death itself and someone he loves, a situation that's so achingly familiar to him - before expanding his senses, listening and waiting and feeling, waiting for the next trap to ready itself to fire, hand on the hilt of his broadsword.

The clack of another bullet rings out, and he moves, flinging his sword towards the sound - and the horrible grinding metallic screech that arises is like wonderful music to his ears. No gun shot rings out, and for a moment, he thinks he may have just disabled it.

Then sharp metal cuts through his left shoulder, and he learns that all he did was take out the gun.

Still, if he has to stand there and be slashed, he'll take it - and as the machine begins to reach the finale of it's overture of death, the punishments it triggers become faster and faster. Akira might feel blood splashing on the floor next to him, or even on him, but never hear anything more than pained hisses through clenched teeth as Ichigo dodges just enough to miss fatal blows.

One hits him on his shoulder again, making the wound there larger. A second chest blow leaves him with an 'x' on his torso. A nick on his neck, and on the right side of his face, his other arm gaining a slash to match the other one he'd gained earlier. A blow to his left hip has blood running down his leg, pooling at his feet. He nearly makes a noise when a blade runs along his shin, very nearly cutting to bone, his legs not spared from the attacks.

A shunk rings out as a flung knife digs into his uncut shoulder and he stumbles back for a second, raising a bloodied hand to pull it out and fling it back at the machine, stepping back resolutely, an immovable living wall.

He won't fall. He can't fall. Even if he's unable to dodge all the way, even if a fatal blow is delivered to him - he will stand tall until Akira finishes opening the door and escapes to safety.]

[loudly, above the clacking and whirring of the machine, Akira cries out]

Ichigo--

[yeah, he feels that. he hears it, and it just makes his heart race even more, makes him work all the more frantically on the lock despite the fact that his whole body is shaking. that he's desperately wishing their positions were reversed (they can't be, and he knows it, he's the only one of them who can pick a lock). that he's internally cursing himself for being so stupid, for encouraging Ichigo on like this, for putting him in so much danger]

[for likely being the reason that he dies when all of this is over. because even if none of those weapons hit something vital, there's blood loss to think about, and--]

[the lock clicks]

[the lock clicks, and Akira scrambles up onto his feet, ignoring the way that leaning on his injured calf sends pain coursing through his entire side]

I got it! Let's g--

[he reaches for the door handle. and finally, after all this time, the lights flicker on to reveal the metallic monster they're up against. a Rube Goldberg machine of death indeed, all clanking and grinding parts, some of the blades still dripping blood from the injuries they inflicted earlier]

[the lights flicker on, and Akira has enough time to see something glint in the air before a knife catches him in the back of the hand, pinning same right against the door before he can twist the knob]

[he swallows his cry of pain, but he can't help the way he has to hunch his shoulders and duck his head to do so. fucking ow]

[Day 10, night: Ichigo; CW: lots of blood and injuries]

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CW for future readers: eye gore

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cw: more eye gore

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