FINGERS CROSSED, yuzuha usagi

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Fear of losing something she hadn't yet lose took the form of blood splattered in a wall, right behind where Aguni's head had slightly tilted to the side. It was silent again, and her breathing felt heavier, as if she was suffocating, drowning in her own panic, in the way The King of Spades glanced back at her over his shoulder and paused for a moment to let the scenario sink in, saying: Look! Look what fate has built for you! Look!.

And Yasuko did, with every nerve, every fibre, every drop of her red blood. She really looked at it before her eyes traveled to him, crouching down the same way someone would in front of a furious predator, ready to attack.

Speeding at him, Yasuko tackled him to the floor, squeezing her thighs at his sides to stop him from trying to switch their position like he had done before. He didn't waste a second to lift again the gun, yet he had forgotten something in the split second they had faced each other, the knife he had impaled on her hand blocked the firearm's barrel in a rushed, soft pushing movement that only caused the bullet to storm out of its prison and land somewhere behind her in a terribly loud thud. The pressure wave pulled her arm backwards and she screamed through her clenched teeth at the same time a tear splashed on his cheekbone. Still, all he was looking for was to redirect the gun to her body.

His gloved hand crept up her shoulder, grabbing the back of her neck, and twisted a handful of her hair as hard as he could from where he was being incapacitated by her arms, crushing at his joints and digging her nails between the fingers he had closed around the gun. The King of Spades fought as desperately as Yasuko did to win the upper hand, but he wasn't as feverish as she was.

Perhaps she had died the day she had filled her lungs with water, perhaps it had been the day she first learned how to swim, or it might have even been the day she looked back at the ocean before leaving the beach. At that point, there where her body leaned backwards and her hand trembled as it grabbed his with an unutterable growl, it didn't matter anymore. It passed, as all things did; the thought of time, the grief and mourning, the promise she had whispered for the sea, all of it was placed on the handle of the knife stabbed on her flesh finding back the gun's barrel and the fingers of her other hand moving towards where his rested and fought against the force she was putting on to stop her from forcing him to pull the trigger once more.

She pushed, and pushed, until he gave up and the result was just a blown barrel, the muzzle split, and Yasuko's cry piercing everyone whose hearts were still beating. It's not over, she thought, moving back to throw a punch, but her body was getting sloppier, and exhaustion allowed The King of Spades to kick her off himself. She saw in his eyes something that could be confused with sorry and indifference, something that wasn't quite defined, something she hoped he could make it feel a little softer when his fist dived towards her jaw.

Yasuko's face turned to the side by its strength, her temple bouncing harshly on the floor as blood spilled out her lips. But when she was preparing to receive a second hit, the King of Spades was stabbed by Ikehara's knife.

He swung the blade, cutting up his flesh, so many times Yasuko had lost the count after the sixteenth time she saw his hand raise and land on his back. She couldn't look. She didn't want to see Ikehara's figure rolling around the floor with The King of Spades, both fighting to get a hold of the gun trapped between their hands; she just couldn't bare seeing his face bloody and bruised again, the face she had memorized as if it was her own reflection in a mirror, or a prayer that needed to be said every night before bed. But at the end, all she did was that, look.

Her eyes were fixed on him throwing rapid punches, wrestling his way out the man's cage. Turning on her side with difficulty, Yasuko noticed him doubting and she panicked. Boxing training typically didn't include techniques for ground fighting or grappling; boxers were mostly trained to slip, block, and parry punches effectively, minimizing the impact of incoming strikes, but going onto the floor wasn't exactly his strength on the matter. Out of the two, Yasuko had always been the one to make every fight dirtier than the one they had before, harder for him to stay on his feet, and The King of Spades caught on it right away.

His legs wrapped around his waist and his hands twisted Ikehara's arms until they gave in and folded. Ikehara's head hit the ground and then he met her gaze.

Her eyes filled with tears.

"Don't look." He called out, almost stuttering the words out his lips and making The King of Spades halt for a second, acknowledging he wasn't actually talking to him, but her.

He asked, and as always, she followed. Yasuko closed her eyes, lifting her arms up and surrounding her head, so she would only be a curled up child hoping the night terror under her bed didn't feel her body quiver and her breathing fastening, hoping the sound of gunshots were a bad dream from a bad night. She didn't know how much time she had been like that, yet she didn't move, not even when she heard Arisu's voice and The King of Spades walked away and someone's heartbreaking whimpers made the effort to inhale a little deeper.

Yasuko crossed her fingers but she didn't know what else she could wish for.