summary: after a fire on the beach, last boss survived. he fought heroically for the figure cards until his death craving overwhelmed him. niragi, however, always wanted to live more than anyone else.
word count: 1093.
the wind fell like burning fetters on open wounds, pulled out the last pain, dulled sensations. takatora was lying on his back, his gaze was fixed on the clear sky, rapidly covered with a black haze of night, and his hand covered the painfully pulsating cut that was visible through the dark fabric of his singlet. he didn't fully understand where he was and what was happening, didn't know if the king of spades had been defeated. he didn't even know if his only acquaintances, who had fought so hard against death until that moment, were still alive or not. it seems that this bald terminator put every single soul down. an unpleasant ringing sounded in the last boss's ears, but even through it he could hear the deadly silence of the battlefield.
— hey.
the militant couldn't make out the silhouette that appeared in front of him. and, to be honest, he didn't want to. he was ready to accept death, finally standing on his doorstep, with honor. he didn't give up, but was defeated in an equal fight with melee weapons. so why should he resist?
— hey! you're still alive?
the annoying voice didn't subside, but only echoed louder in the takatora's head. he seemed to have heard it somewhere before. familiar nasty vibes associated with the beach.
— i can see you're breathing, idiot.
a massive body slumped to the ground beside a nearby car, leaning back against the rusted hood. it seemed that not so long ago he had been also injured. samura didn't know how to react to the destroyer of his peaceful doom. he dreamed of accepting death alone, but sharing it with someone wasn't such a bad idea, actually. especially if that someone seemed to have once been very close.
— it’s not that sad to die together, boss. aren't you happy?
last boss had to repeat each phrase to himself at least several times so that a clear picture of the meaning of what had been said appeared in his clouded mind. and only at this moment he understood. niragi.
— i thought you were dead, — samura was able to speak, even moving so far wasn't as hard as it could be. he just didn't want to, — not at all.
despite the tragedy of the situation, suguru couldn't help smiling. he was glad that his friend had waited for him and hadn't passed away yet. they were children of war. born from violence. violence against freedom and weakness. the thought of the beginning of their own battle, the battle on the side of cruelty and enslavement, became more and more fixed in their hearts, day by day living in that world.
there was one game left until all figure cards were defeated. it seemed that the bald spade asshole finally kicked the bucket. but what's next? was their entire journey worth going through, or was it easier to give up at the start? certainly worth it. neither niragi, nor takatora could imagine a better world for themselves. only here they felt free, only here they weren't humiliated, but humiliating. and that meant a lot to those who had never really lived.
— if this is death, then what is life? — samura closed his eyes, enjoying every moment of his marvelous agony. — in this country, even on the verge of death, i feel more alive than ever.
between each last sentence last boss needed to do small pauses to draw more air into his still working lungs and to be able to continue talking, but even though niragi didn't tried to interrupt him. dark, like a starry sky, eyes that hadn't lost their crazy spark yet rose to the darkness that had descended on the city while their owner was comprehending the words of the interlocutor.
— people who don't face death will never understand the desire for it. it inspires, opens up new frontiers, expands knowledge. only by looking into its eyes, you can realize how beautiful it is.
a heavy chest cough escaped from samura's chest, accompanied by bloody saliva that splashed almost all over his face. the internal bleeding increased — this guy had very little left. compared to him, suguru was still full of energy. his chest was shot-up by someone's shotgun shell, but somehow he was more alive than all living things. what a miracle? however, both were on their deathbeds.
— if we meet in the next life, i'll never be your friend, nerd, — the last joke came out from niragi's mouth before last boss let out his final breath, — but we can always give it a try anyway, you know.
— hey?
there was no answer. it seemed that an old friend of him nevertheless met with the one that he had been waiting for a long time. with deadly anguish in his heart, with horror in his chest, niragi sat and felt that something in him was dying with each subsequent minute of silence. nothing was happening, he seemed to be rotting alive, looking at takatora corpse which still seemed so alive, as if the man was simply tired and decided to sleep. suguru's eyelids gradually became heavier, it seemed that he would do well to take a nap too...
‹‹ congratulations, you have completed all currently available games. you have two choices: accept the citizenship of this country or refuse. ››
niragi thought that he was already one step away from death, but this phrase seemed to awaken him from eternal sleep. lying near his deceased friend for about half an hour, sorting through all possible thoughts in his head and trying not to succumb to emotions at least before his death, suguru actually rethought a lot. he wanted to live, he really wanted to get out of this damn hellhole, even if it once gave him what he craved. no power, no freedom will ever cost a life.
— fuck y'all. i refuse, — falling on his side, niragi let out a hoarse groan from the pain in his chest and looked at the motionless body for the last time. — i'd like you to refuse too. but you're a fucking egoist.
gathering all his strength into a fist, niragi clenched his fingers almost to the point of turning blue and gave a light hit on samura's shoulder. it was the last thing he had the strength to do. his hand remained on his friend's shoulder, and his eyes slowly closed, allowing suguru to plunge into the veil of oblivion. the voice of the last child of the war has finally died down.
