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

[purrtagonist]

[secret AGENT man plays in the background]

[their agreed meeting spot is in the hallway of the dormitory wing, halfway between each of their rooms. Akira quietly hopes no one else stumbles across him while he waits for Ichigo to arrive, because he sure does look suspicious. mostly because he had managed to fish out a replica of his thieving outfit from his closet, mask and all. but hey, gotta wear the right outfit if your plan is to sneak around, right?]

[he waits, arms folded, back leaning up against the wall, right foot propped up at his side. his mask, at least, is pushed to the top of his head. and he isn't wearing glasses]

[and for the first time, he's wearing the kitchen knife he pilfered openly at his waist. hello, Ichigo. someone is ready and raring to go]

Comments

[suppressthedark]

[His heartbeat is speeding up - not from anything Akira's saying, not from being so close - but just from the simple fact of not having enough blood to carry oxygen through the body. He's cold, he's so cold - and his unruined eye is beginning to droop, blackness encroaching on his already swimming vision.]

...I'll...try.

[Like this, he can feel Akira's heart beginning to speed up as well, as blood loss takes its toll on them both. He wants to stay awake - he has to stay awake - but he just simply can't, and he hates it.

He hates that Akira was injured, that he couldn't stop that. Hates that they both might die here, alone in a corner of a floor that people might not get to until much later. He hates tha they're even in this situation, that things were bad enough that they ignored all warning signs and went in, sure that they could do something, that they could save everyone -

And he hates that he's taking so much comfort in their current state, thinking if he has to die, then he won't have to die alone, without someone he loves nearby.

He takes a rough breath, although his breathing has already slowed down, almost like he was falling asleep right there instead of passing out.]

A...ki...ra.

[His remaining eye finally closes, as he slips away into unconsciousness.]

[purrtagonist]

[Akira's heart is thudding loudly in his ears, but he swears it skips a beat as Ichigo suddenly goes limp in his arms]

Hey--

[for the briefest of moments, panic cuts through his exhaustion, and he fumbles to press his good hand against Ichigo's neck to check for a pulse. he can feel it, rapid and weak, underneath his fingers. . . and for now. it's a small comfort]

[but only for now]

Damn it. . .

[his arms fall away from Ichigo's shoulders and to his sides, the last wave of panic-induced adrenaline fading, along with the final few threads of his consciousness. and the last thing to cross his mind before he fades out, the very last thought he has, is. . .]

What kind of. . . leader. . . gets his team killed. . . h-ha. [the laugh is so self-deprecating] Fffffuck. . .

[and, as though snipped apart by a pair of scissors, those threads of consciousness snap as Akira slips into a bloody darkness]

[good job, boys]