Hidaka Ken was aware of the fact that he was sobbing. Usually he hated crying. After all that he had been through, shedding tears was like losing what was left of his pride. Sissies cried. Weaklings cried. Assassins did not cry, but tonight the warm droplets felt good. He knew he deserved the humiliation. God, he deserved so much more than that.
Sitting on the floor of his apartment, Ken raised his knees and curled himself into as much of a ball as he could form. He wanted to feel protected...warm...but all he felt was that same icy sensation cutting through him. You killed him. Ken, you FUCKING killed him!!! A small whimper escaped his throat and he wrapped his arms tightly around his knees. He's going to DIE, Ken. DIE, and all because of you. He smiled to himself. The smile slowly turned into a light chuckling that increased into snickering a moment later. His good conscious...it sounded a lot like Kase. How ironic was that?
Ken was well aware that he was becoming hysterical, but he didn't care. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except for the blatant truth. He had killed him. Accidently, of course, but Ken had killed him. He had been so young, too. Only seventeen...still in school. If Weiss had broken up, he would have had a life ahead of him. He could have gone to college, gotten a good job...it was something the rest of them couldn't. They had given up their lives. He still had a chance. Or he HAD had a chance.
Why the hell had Omi done such a stupid thing anyway!? Didn't he know what would happen!? If you stepped in front of a bullet, that meant you were going to get hit instead of the person that the shot was meant for. Didn't that mean anything to him!? The damn kid had taken a bullet for him! Now, he was lying in the hospital waiting for death...waiting to be parylized. Ken didn't know which although he was praying for death above the latter. Omi would seriously commit suicide if he couldn't move part of his body.
A bullet. A bullet meant for him. A bullet that should have gone through his heart. Ken snickered to himself. He wished it had. He wished Omi had left the situation alone. Death sounded nice. Would Weiss have missed him? No...probably not. Well, maybe for a week. Persia would have found a replacement in no time, though. Would his parents have missed him? What a laugh. They hadn't missed him ever since he had been accussed of gambling on soccer games. Parents were persuaded so easily. Ken didn't miss them ...
... and yet he still felt cold. He needed someone to hold him. Ken desperately needed to be told that, despite all the blood on his hands, he was still a good person. Hell, that he still WAS a person. He smiled softly as he weighed the small black gun in his right hand. It felt nice...heavy, holding his guilt, and yet also light, holding the way to freedom. Finally he could be freed from this hell. Sure, he would just go to the spiritual hell after he died, but at least then he would be around other tortured souls. There would be no more blood. Just his.
That was a nice thought.
Ken clicked the safety off. The sound was pleasing in his ears, and he put it on again just so he could have the opportunity to hear it once more. What a nice sound. He was starting to feel numb. It felt good...it felt good not to feel the pain anymore. The tears had stopped falling. Ken was glad. After all, the last thing he needed were people laughing as they saw the tears sitting on his pale flesh in the morning. Would he get to lie here, dead, until morning? How long would it take someone to find him? Who would it be? The questions were trivial but Ken suddenly found himself wanting to know. Would it be Yohji or Aya? He found himself laughing at the prospect of Max finding his body. "Another one to the wind," She'd say, and his body would probably be dumped into a trash can somewhere.
Raising the small pistol to his head, Ken rested it against his temple lightly. It looked and felt like a plastic gun...one of the water pistols he used to play with as a child. This gun was metal, though, and the cool tingling that touched his head felt nice..it was calming.
That thought made him frown angrily. Why the hell did it feel nice!? He didn't want to feel "nice"!! He wanted to beat the shit out of himself! Omi was dead because of him! No, not dead...dying. Oh, that made the thought sooo much better. Ken chuckled to himself before ramming the barrel of the gun against his temple. He felt blood begin to flow from the small cut he had created. It was so warm. How could his blood be hot while his heart felt glazed over by ice?
Touching the red trickle tentatively, Ken looked at the wetness that coated his finger. He grinned and flicked his tongue out, circling the digit and savoring the coppery taste in his mouth. Ken closed his sorrowful brown eyes for what he knew would be the last time and tightened his hold on the gun. Body tensing in preparation for death, Ken whispered his last goodbyes...his apologies to Omi. At the moment he wished he had written notes, but how many would he have handed out? Three? What a high number. Gee, he had been a popular person in life.
"Kase...I'm coming to be with you..."
A shot crashed through the silence of the apartment building, and Ken's body hit the ground with a loud thud. Then, everything was still...
Chapter 1 | Fanfiction