Hesitance. (Batter x Zacharie)

OFF.

The night had cascaded down into the air. A silence made the room palpable with a thick tension. The short, quick breaths that fell through Batter's lips shook and withered into trembling gasps. His hands shook by his knees as he kneeled before a body. The cracked bat laid at the side of the figure's head. Its wooden form was slick with crimson blood. Sad, terrible eyes loomed over the broken male's body, slick with unshed tears.

His forehead creased into a tiny million wrinkles. He refused to cry. He did this because he had to. He had finally completed his mission. He purified the world. Everything. There was nothing left.

The hollowness of the ringing air left Batter's mind vulnerable and open to any thoughts. Thoughts that would trigger memories. Memories that would demand his attention. Attention that would make his eyes even glassier than they were before.

He tore his gaze away from the body. Batter stood up, seeming to drag his feet towards the exit. His usual confidence was replaced with slumping shoulders, a hanging head, a terrible gloom, but no one would ever notice. He could act as he wanted because no one would notice.

Batter walked out of the room and into the crisp night air. The tears slid down his cheek, and his chest heaved violently. He began to cough and sputter desperately, feeling pathetic, but no one would notice. He just had to get out of that room. He couldn't do anything in front of him.

Even being near his mangled body made him feel that same radiant spirit. The red heart on the center of his shirt was drenched with scarlet. Batter grit his teeth, and this willed the tears to flow, almost endlessly.

He walked along inside the nothingness he had created, and he suddenly wished that he had failed his mission.

Batter didn't know what to do, but he knew he was tired, so he sat underneath a tree and drifted off to sleep.

At least he wouldn't be falling into another darkness.

"Batter!"

A groan was heard. It was full of annoyance. He ignored the voice and turned back over, stuffing his face in a scratchy yet soothing fabric.

"Batter, get up, or I'll..." The voice trailed off mischievously.

Batter stayed silent at the half-threat, his ears alert for any sounds. Soft footsteps. The creak of opening of a door. The running of water. He slowly opened his eyes to see a plain white wall and a black, coarse fabric that scratched his skin. Batter sat up, rubbing his head in confusion. He felt a bandage and immediately started to claw at it.

Zacharie ran in, his face content when he saw his friend was up, but his eyes widened when he saw what he was doing. He rushed over to Batter, and pulled his hands away, scolding him irritably. Batter blinked at his actions, but frowned at the slight pang in his head.

"What are you-" He started, but he was interrupted as soon as he opened his mouth.

"Shut up. You got hurt. Just let me clean your wound, and patch it up.." Zacharie said, holding a towel and some bandages.

"I feel fine." Batter lied.

"No, you're not fine."

He forced Batter's hand down and took off the old bandage, frowning as he saw that it was completed covered in dried blood. Batter stared at it, not able to recall anything about the previous day. As soon as Zacharie was done, he would be sure to ask him what happened. He hissed quietly and cursed as a towel was dabbed over the gash. He held back a flinch, just dealing with the pain. When a soft gauze was replaced with the towel, he sighed in relief. Zacharie gathered everything up and was about to walk off again.

"Zacharie."

"What?"

"What happened? How did I get hurt this badly?"

Zacharie's face paled.

"I don't know." He said way too quickly, and he began to walk away.

"Zacharie." Batter repeated.

"... What?"

"Did I kill them all?"

Zacharie looked down. "Not yet."

Batter stared ahead at him. He got up gradually, taking long, lingering strides towards the smaller male. Zacharie did not move. The floor captured his attention. He froze as a hand draped behind the nape of his neck. His heart beat in his ears, as calloused fingertips rubbed over the smooth skin comfortably, setting his nerves on fire.

"Zacharie, look at me."

He looked up, into the eyes of his murderer.

Batter kissed the corner of his mouth gently. Blood dripped down his forehead, his whole bandage was stained with scarlet.

"Batter, your band-"

Zacharie stared at the angle of his hands. He noticed one was behind his back.

"What's behind your back...?"

"Your demise."

And with that, he pulled the bat from its hiding place. Zacharie stared at it, eyes hollow and accepting of his fate. He simply chose to look at the blood dripping down Batter's forehead and cheek. It was almost as if he was crying.

"Goodbye, Zacharie."

He lifted the bat above Zacharie's head and swung down.

Batter snapped his eyes open, and the first thing he saw was white. It scratched his skin, yet it soothed him. He held it out and saw it was a sweater with a scarlet heart in the center.

He stood up and walked towards the shop. He peered his head through the door. The body was gone.