![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[ Your heart is heavy, and your footsteps carry you before your mind realizes where you’ve wound up. (STOP at 11:48).
“…. Hm? This is….” The police station – your old familiar workplace. How long ago has it been now, since you used to walk past those doors everyday and report for work? And how much longer has it been since you could do so with pride? “…. Haha. I’ve always avoided this place, so how did I end up here…?”
A girl’s face flashes through your mind – along with her last words to you: W-Wait. What do you… Enomoto, listen to me…! But you didn’t give her a chance. You didn’t let her finish. You walked out of the apartment and that’s what led you here – alone, like always.
“Hoshino’s gonna give me an earful. Nothing good can come from working with her. …. The justice she wants to protect, huh…. Did I used to have that much passion?”
Your thoughts are interrupted with the sound of footsteps approaching quickly, and before you can hope to respond—
“Who’s there?!”
Blunt force to the back of your head before you can meet your assailant. Your ears ring. You hit the ground and everything’s dark.
. . .
When you wake up, all you can smell is blood. All you can taste is blood. All you can feel is the pain screeching from everywhere. Your arms and legs, bound. Distantly, there’s the understanding that you’re sitting, but you’ve been blindfolded and gagged. The cloth in your mouth holds nothing but the bitter taste of iron.
“Awake?”
A distant, garbled voice speaks. It’s hard to place it and yet there’s pain lacing the words when the person speaks again: “Why didn’t she go after you? Why has everyone abandoned you?”
The question is punctuated with a gunshot, followed by another and another, and you realize the next sound is your own muffled scream behind the gag as new pain blossoms in your chest as if to compete against the rest. The bullets tear past your skin and into your body, unforgiving. Will you bleed out first or will you be put out of your misery?
“Enomoto Mineo.” The voice speaks again, and this time it is not sympathetic. “Your rash and thoughtless behavior psychologically cornered someone you admired.”
A pit sinks in your stomach, and you realize that the last shot did not pierce your heart because the words were always meant to be what broke your spirit. Whether by surprise or something else you can’t name even now, you stop struggling.
You realize what this is. Judgment is coming.
“That man then wrongfully arrested people in a rush for glory, ruining the lives of many people.”
You hear the slide of metal – you know the gun has been reloaded. Even though you cannot see, you know it is pointed at you once again.
“For your inability to pursue the truth, and your cowardice that has stolen the light from others – you have been judged as evil. This is our justice.”
Bang!
Everything goes black. ]
“…. Hm? This is….” The police station – your old familiar workplace. How long ago has it been now, since you used to walk past those doors everyday and report for work? And how much longer has it been since you could do so with pride? “…. Haha. I’ve always avoided this place, so how did I end up here…?”
A girl’s face flashes through your mind – along with her last words to you: W-Wait. What do you… Enomoto, listen to me…! But you didn’t give her a chance. You didn’t let her finish. You walked out of the apartment and that’s what led you here – alone, like always.
“Hoshino’s gonna give me an earful. Nothing good can come from working with her. …. The justice she wants to protect, huh…. Did I used to have that much passion?”
Your thoughts are interrupted with the sound of footsteps approaching quickly, and before you can hope to respond—
“Who’s there?!”
Blunt force to the back of your head before you can meet your assailant. Your ears ring. You hit the ground and everything’s dark.
When you wake up, all you can smell is blood. All you can taste is blood. All you can feel is the pain screeching from everywhere. Your arms and legs, bound. Distantly, there’s the understanding that you’re sitting, but you’ve been blindfolded and gagged. The cloth in your mouth holds nothing but the bitter taste of iron.
“Awake?”
A distant, garbled voice speaks. It’s hard to place it and yet there’s pain lacing the words when the person speaks again: “Why didn’t she go after you? Why has everyone abandoned you?”
The question is punctuated with a gunshot, followed by another and another, and you realize the next sound is your own muffled scream behind the gag as new pain blossoms in your chest as if to compete against the rest. The bullets tear past your skin and into your body, unforgiving. Will you bleed out first or will you be put out of your misery?
“Enomoto Mineo.” The voice speaks again, and this time it is not sympathetic. “Your rash and thoughtless behavior psychologically cornered someone you admired.”
A pit sinks in your stomach, and you realize that the last shot did not pierce your heart because the words were always meant to be what broke your spirit. Whether by surprise or something else you can’t name even now, you stop struggling.
You realize what this is. Judgment is coming.
“That man then wrongfully arrested people in a rush for glory, ruining the lives of many people.”
You hear the slide of metal – you know the gun has been reloaded. Even though you cannot see, you know it is pointed at you once again.
“For your inability to pursue the truth, and your cowardice that has stolen the light from others – you have been judged as evil. This is our justice.”
Bang!
Everything goes black. ]
[well.
you'll have to excuse him.
because he's going to suddenly drop that hand and back up immediately against the closest walled surface, eye wide and hand pressed against his chest as if to staunch the bleeding of the wound that isn't there. his other hand hovers over the holster of his gun, as if to draw.
oh - it seems like he's suddenly a bit scared.]
you'll have to excuse him.
because he's going to suddenly drop that hand and back up immediately against the closest walled surface, eye wide and hand pressed against his chest as if to staunch the bleeding of the wound that isn't there. his other hand hovers over the holster of his gun, as if to draw.
oh - it seems like he's suddenly a bit scared.]
[it takes a second.
it takes a long second for him to register the voice speaking to him as white's, and not some disembodied executor. he hears it and he lets his back rest against the wall a bit more even as he blinks a few times to try to get rid of any remaining, aching phantoms.]
... Wh-White?
[he drops the honorific just for now - just to get a sense of who's in front of him.
his fingers twitch as if to test them, as if he can still use them.]
it takes a long second for him to register the voice speaking to him as white's, and not some disembodied executor. he hears it and he lets his back rest against the wall a bit more even as he blinks a few times to try to get rid of any remaining, aching phantoms.]
... Wh-White?
[he drops the honorific just for now - just to get a sense of who's in front of him.
his fingers twitch as if to test them, as if he can still use them.]
[all right then.
slowly, he approaches, and then places his hands against mineo's arms. not tightly, but just enough to assure him he's there. they're here, not in the place where mineo—well.
...
after a few moments of that, he freezes up, before scrambling a step back with his own hands held awkwardly in the air. (which is to say, he realized this could be interpreted as a kind gesture, which maybe was the motivation, and now he's feeling embarrassed.)]
slowly, he approaches, and then places his hands against mineo's arms. not tightly, but just enough to assure him he's there. they're here, not in the place where mineo—well.
...
after a few moments of that, he freezes up, before scrambling a step back with his own hands held awkwardly in the air. (which is to say, he realized this could be interpreted as a kind gesture, which maybe was the motivation, and now he's feeling embarrassed.)]
[ . . . . it's kind of an odd gesture, and it gets mineo to blink but - he feels it. the pressure, the grounding sense that he's not alone, and he's not with someone who's going to hurt him. it takes a few precarious breaths for him to calm down enough that he's not as tense, not as fearful.
and when white backs up - he just snorts briefly, a breath that surprises even him, before he reaches a hand out to let it circle around white's gently.
to hold onto him, too.]
.... I don't bite or anything.
and when white backs up - he just snorts briefly, a breath that surprises even him, before he reaches a hand out to let it circle around white's gently.
to hold onto him, too.]
.... I don't bite or anything.
[ . . . . . to be honest - ]
No.
[ . . . . but he shrugs.]
I eventually will be, probably. Sorry you had to - [ . . . did he feel it? he can't imagine what it must be like, to experience a torture that you never deserved or signed up for]
... deal with any of that.
No.
[ . . . . but he shrugs.]
I eventually will be, probably. Sorry you had to - [ . . . did he feel it? he can't imagine what it must be like, to experience a torture that you never deserved or signed up for]
... deal with any of that.
[torture's nothing new to white. but he, at least—there's an argument to be made that one crime begets another. that he'd already committed his sins by that point, so it was simply karma.
what did mineo deserve? because he was rash and thoughtless? what a load of bullshit.]
... Don't apologize. Idiot.
It's not your fault.
what did mineo deserve? because he was rash and thoughtless? what a load of bullshit.]
... Don't apologize. Idiot.
It's not your fault.
Page 25 of 95