Whumptober 2020 - Saiouma Collection

[No.2 Pick Who Dies | Kidnapped]

[Warnings: Gunshots, Tied ups Victims, Self-Sacrifice]

His clammy hands trembled around the handle. The shake could be seen in his fingers, how his index finger jostled the trigger. Spurring up a quick and quiet clicking. An uncomfortable heat stuck to his forehead and neck. He's beyond nervous, anxious, his breath bubbled in his lungs, waiting impatiently for an exhale.

"Saihara." Her curt tone cut through his trembling thoughts. He flinched, looking over at empty red eyes. "It's okay." Her voice doesn't lift, nor does it drop. It's painfully flat like she'd been preparing herself for this moment all her joyless life.

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut again, the gun in his hand lowered, his head bowed forward. "No...It's, It's not okay." He breathed, his chest clenched, his breath hissed past his lips. He wasn't quick to inhale, so he still stood there with lips pressed together, in the middle of a cold, mostly concrete, room.

Maki Harukawa sat on the floor, her back against the wall, her knees to her chest, and her hands were bound together over her legs. Standing around the edges of the room were future foundation members. In their jet black suits and dead, serious stares. Either pinpointed on Shuichi or the two individuals against the wall.

Despite the room being cold, he felt like he had been lit on fire. His hands burned, his stomach churned with gurgling nerves. He shifted his fear-ridden eyes to the second victim. Kokichi Ouma sat slumped, his shoulder against the wall, his forehead pressed against his knees. His hands bound behind him.

His breathing is shallow, Shuichi can tell he's in pain. He's making a grand effort to not show it, but moments ago he opened his mouth to make a snarky remark, but one of the well-built men slammed their knee into his chest. Kokichi has a talent for putting on a face, but if it's cracking this badly, Shuichi can't help but conclude his rib is broken.

Shuichi was given the strenuous task of delivering a punishment. These two, who he knows so painfully well, were caught. Kokichi is the head of a growing organization, one working to control the world's broken ways. Maki, who swore herself to only the assassination of those against what she believes is right.

But they were caught.

They were caught, and Shuichi has to pick who sees morning, and who gets their blood splattered on the wall.

"I know you won't kill him," Maki said blatantly. No, no Shuichi won't. He can't. It made him feel sick thinking about it, but nausea swirled greater when he genuinely thought of sacrificing Maki, his friend, his family.

The woman behind him cleared her throat. Her void dead tone was like nails ripping against his skin, someone who he used to look up to, someone he aspired to be, ended up being nothing more than a heartless individual. Who was willing to sacrifice innocent life to carve the world to her ideals.

"Shuichi Saihara," Unlike Maki's tone, her voice is pinched. As if she's growing heated and impatient. "Pick who takes the consequence for their actions. Remember, this is not murder, and you will not be punished for doing what is lawfully correct."

She knows he hates to take life. She knows he's dreading this. He was her apprentice, and she knows he always hesitates before the trigger, she's trying to break him out of it. But he doesn't want that. He doesn't want this.

"...A-And whoever I pick," Shuichi swallowed hard, shaking as he began to aim the gun at Maki. "...The other who I... I don't pick, they get medical treatment." He flickered his eyes to Kokichi who stifled a cough of pain. His teeth are clenched when he looks up at Shuichi. He looks frustrated, angry even, but his eyes are filled with more than one kind of pain.

Kokichi grew up with Maki. They put up a front and make sure everyone thinks they are mortal enemies, so no one will hold the other against them. After all, loved ones are the death of you. Kokichi will hate Shuichi if he kills Maki, Maki will hate him, secretly, if he kills Kokichi. Shuichi wouldn't be able to live with himself if he takes any life.

"Yes, Saihara." Kirigiri nodded. The grit in her tone was highlighted. "But if you think you can kill one of the security, that isn't an option. If you do, then you will suffer their end as well."

Shuichi took another breath. Inhaling till he couldn't, exhaling till he could feel the strain in his chest. "...So... Ah, I have to take a non-innocent life?" He croaked, his gun now fully aimed at Maki.

"Yes."

It stung. It stung so much. "And...And the others will be spared of any further consequence if I do?"

"Yes, they will be let free." She sighed, her heels clicked across the floor. They stopped when her gloved hand rested on his shoulder. "But do not pretend I didn't hear you say 'others'. You can not kill me either, Saihara."

The trembling in his fingers only worsened. He swallowed again, trying to swallow his internalized cries. Trying not to scream at her. The gun was pointed at Maki, those empty red eyes closed, waiting for the punishment. Another look at Kokichi and his eyes are glaring at him. Or, no, not him. The woman beside him.

"I'm sorry..." He breathed, fog curled around his vision, tears finally pricking his eyes. "...I'm so sorry."

Maki shook her head. "Don't be."

He clenched his teeth, sucking in a now shaking breath. "...no, no not to you." He exhaled stiffly, sweat rolled down his temple as he looked at Kokichi, whose life had so much value. Who strived to fix the world. Who needed the one family he had left. "I'm sorry..." He whispered, his fingers turned numb. Prickling with a lack of oxygen.

"...Shuichi," Kokichi gritted, "Shuichi... don't do it, don't do it..." He's begging, gasping as he does, his eyes still so angry, his breath still so shallow. The pain is still so present.

"I'm sorry." After that, he fell silent. Kirigiri hummed, satisfied with his conclusion to stop acting childish. As she's remarked so many times before.

Shuichi swallowed roughly and closed his eyes. Maki didn't deserve this. Kokichi didn't deserve this.

He thought of all the nights he slipped into a dark room, finding Kokichi's hands just to dance with him. All the rare mornings he woke up to Kokichi kissing him. All secret moments he would rest his heavy head in the crook of his neck. How his warm palms always held his cold fingers. How his ears always got so red in the cold. How they used to stay up whispering words to one another, exchanging hot breath as they kissed. How his laugh used to make him laugh too. Shuichi thought of all the things he never got to say. The words he bit back. The things he regretted. But he remembered Kokichi's real smile. How small, and how real it was.

He savored that warmth that resonated in his chest. Leaving the most sorrowful smile on his lips as he jerked the gun back.

He turned the bullet on himself and fired.