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"It's gotten to you too huh Inukai"
"W...what?"
Warm yet boiling tears seeps on his cheeks. He touched it, feeling the sudden wetness on his fingers then immediately wiped it all away.
"You're soft. Too soft. Though can't say the same when you're out there sometimes. Felt like I could barely recognise you. heh. Well, everyone have their own stories,"
Yuto looks around and sees gloomy faces, not a glimpse of light behind them in the dim room. He can hear the revving engine underneath, the vibrating metal walls, the distant yet ever increasing noises of blasts and bullets. He can smell the waft of gunpowder in the air, the moist sweat on their faces, the piercing rot of blood in his nose. He can feel the vibrations of the vehicle they're all in on wherever destination it reaches, the bandage under his clothes just barely patched together, the cold hard metal in his hands with a noticeable scent of gunpowder. We're together in these gloomy days. Again,
These days continue on.
Yuto can't remember when he was even in the vehicle or where it even came from. In fact, he can barely remember why he's here, in this godforsaken lands in the first place. He aims for the good of others or so he thought. Yet he can barely remember how does it help others in the first place. "It's for a bigger greatness" yet does it justify why he's doing this? The reason for all this... he can't remember. Supposedly it's what he wanted. Or was he sent here? or dumped here? Vividly, it's related to the ones precious to him. Yet the faces, the supposed precious people's faces, family or friends.... he can't remember.
The vibrations came to a stop as the blasts became louder. The doors open as the blinding lights burn onto their faces. The thickening fog of gunpowder and blood swarms their noses, as the commander yells out his orders.
Remember your formations. Remember their formations. Just like a line of dominos they align with precision. Just like a line of dominos they are filled with black patches. Just like a line of dominos they all fall down in unison. For the one that made them all fall down is the power of You to do so. With forceful precision embedded in your brain, the one that makes them all fall is You.
Yet the blasts don't stop. They grow louder. Too loud. Why are the blasts here, among the people in his formation? Yuto looks around and sees the people, the one who he was along with the ones he thought to have respite with, fall down, one by one like dominos, and so he himself got a black patch too. Yuto looks up and sees the face of death, the man supposedly in the same team as him.
"Sorry lad. It's better if it ends this way. It will all end faster. Heh, I'm just doing what I think is best. Well, everyone have their own stories''
The black patch turns to red. And so the red soak up, blinding his vision.
However, this body's time hasn't ended yet.
The red in his vision remains in his eyes, his irises. A shining deep red appears on his eyes. He breathes still. Like the raging red boiling in his mind. The raging red bared between his teeth. He pounces.
Even with a black patch, he remains standing. In the end, the one that truly makes it all fall is Him. As the last opposing domino falls down, filled with black patches. His hand remains at the trigger for half a second, looking at the corpse. The one who betrayed us all.
Through the red eyes, all he sees are the red around him. We were together in these gloomy days. We were. Yet again this trust was forcefully broken by their hand. Yet again his hands are the one to end it. Yet these memories, he will remember them.
"team xxx... is anyone there? repeat"
"Inukai here"
"Thank god, Hurry up and we'll send you to base to patch things up. Hopefully we can find a whole new team ready tomorrow,"
Soon a metal vehicle came, revving loudly. He gets himself in and soon moved away. Around there's no faces under this dim light. Not anymore. He's alone in this gloomy place. He closes his eyes and gently rests.
Do as you're told until the mission is over. Useless unless blood is shed. How much the orders has engraved in his mind. How many of the insults he hears. There's no place for hope here. No fond memories to hold. No redemption for all are sinners in one way or another. No place to smile and make acquaintances.
The mind is awfully quiet. No thoughts nor visions. No hope nor ambition. The closed black eyes are nowhere to be seen. He can no longer hear his gentle snores, nor feel his soft skin as they remain tucked away. Not even the soft black hair hiding the blue streaks underneath. None. A corpse without a trace.
Warm yet boiling tears seeps on his cheeks. They have been left to trickle and drop down his gloomy face, the glimpse of light behind his eyes is no more. Yet another life lost along the battlefield.
Yet these days continue on.