Oughhh Amaneist Fuuta makes me crazy enough as it is… to think he could be coaxed into violence after everything… (They need an emoji that’s a mix of D: and >:3) The timing is pretty wishy-washy… I kind of placed this after all the trials, when the innocent prisoners could choose to leave, but could stay a little longer if they wanted ig? Es is kinda hiding out in their room until everyone else has finished their goodbyes and left.
(I thought that first OoA request was sad but HERE WE ARE IG –) Tw child death x2 😭😭😭
Breathe. Just breathe.
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Fuuta tried to recall the soothing tone of Amane’s voice, but could only conjure up the harsh demanding of his own. For someone so young, she would always calm him down. Well, she had always calmed him down. He wouldn’t be able to rely on her any more.
After final verdicts, all he could do was remember her. Remember how she lived – with those ever-confident eyes and reaching hands – as he kept his own composure in the hardest of times. Remember how she spoke – keeping her words short and focused – when he pleaded his case against Es and their voices. Remember how she reached her goals – knife in hand, creeping down the corridor – while he attempted the very same in her honor.
He scolded himself for the nervousness still suffocating him. He knew this plan worked. He knew it went quickly and quietly, a perfect method for someone who’d never even raised a hand to someone else. He also knew the consequences were bearable: the others were merely outraged when it happened the first time, but now there wasn’t anyone left to feel horrified. If they did hear of his plan, they’d even agree.
Or, at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
After all, Es had hurt all of them, hadn’t they? The Warden was of sound mind when they made those decisions. They’d carried out each and every harsh verdict, knowing exactly what would happen. They’d flippantly toyed with life and death, leaving the prisoners injured, grieving, and left to pick up the piece by themselves.
No one should play God. There was only one, and Fuuta would carry out His punishment for such a sin. If Amane had to die because of the dried blood on her hands, shouldn’t the same rules apply to Es?
Fuuta repeated the question to himself until Es finally emerged from their room. His temper flared seeing their face so calm after what they’d done. His breath hitched as he adjusted the knife in his hand. He could see Amane’s smile in his mind. He was ready to fight. He was going to be sick. He ran forward.
Es looked up in shock as he appeared, blade protruding a with deadly shine.
It wasn’t like the first interrogation, when this kid was just a stranger to him, or when he cried out with his whole chest to alert as many people as possible, or when he went charging forward without any hesitation in his step. But those were minor differences when faced with the most important change: this time, there was no barrier to stop his attack from fully connecting.
The actual impact was much smoother than he expected, and the aftermath was even worse that he’d prepared for. The force of his approach left the two on the ground, Fuuta pinning Es to the ground, the knife sitting solidly between them. He hadn’t expected blood to be so warm, or there to be so much of it. He especially hadn’t planned on Es speaking to him.
“F-Fuuta? What are you…?”
It didn’t matter how much bigger Fuuta was (and he was realizing just how much bigger he was), their eyes grew wide enough to swallow him up. His vision filled with their shocked gray irises. They darted around his face in fear, in pain, in betrayal. Then, they angled in something else. Was it relief? Reassurance? God, was it forgiveness?
Why should he receive that, and not Amane?
He grit his teeth. “This is your divine punishment!”
“I see…” Their eyes flicked from him to the knife lodged in their chest. Then back to him. They let out a horrible, wheezing sound, and it took Fuuta a moment to realize it was a laugh. “I didn’t think you would… that you could…”
“Well, you underestimated me! I’m a hero, really!” Is avenging the innocent the same as protecting them? It’s not like he had another choice. “I’ve found my purpose. My calling!”
“I know. That’s why…” Their words hitched with a wince. “That’s why I’m sorry. I’m sorry for… making you do this.”
They should have apologized for killing Amane. For the suffering of the others. Why were they sorry for him? Who the hell apologized to their killer? Fuuta’s stomach churned at the thought. Es had never raised a hand to him. Never even insulted him. Why did this kid have to make everything so complicated?
It had been so easy for Amane. Once she committed herself to a goal, she saw it through, unflinching. She had been the strongest of them all. Why couldn’t he be as steadfast and pious?
He just had to focus on his goal. He just had to focus, and breathe.
“Th-this was God’s command! Milgram will cause no more pain. No more verdicts. Do you hear me? No more death will come out of this place!”
As he spoke, they reached a glove hand upwards. For a moment, Fuuta wondered if they were finally going to fight back. Perhaps they’d try and wrestle the weapon away from him.
“Hah… that’s right…”
They seemed to relax further into the ground as their hand arrived on Fuuta’s cheek – a faint touch, but one he’d feel the ghost of for the rest of his life. Leaning this close, the dark circles and worry lines across their face came into view.
“Fuuta… Thank you.”
“Wh –! You have nothing to thank me for!” For a harsh statement, it came out more like a plea.
He twisted the knife in place – he needed to make end this fast, for both of their sakes.
The movement forced a coughing fit from Es, though a smile appeared on their lips as soon as it subsided. It was one of their rare, genuine smiles, and yet a trickle of blood spilled down their lip.
“I’m glad… I’ll be the last…”
The silence of the prison grew oppressive around the pair – not a single creak or echo came from the darkened corridors. Unable to hold it for a moment longer, Fuuta released the knife and slumped back. What was he supposed to do now?
He folded his bloody hands together, inhaling deep, but no words of prayer came to him.
He and Es breathed out together.
