Who Are You, Really? || Thoma x Ayato|| × Modern AU ×

(11) On the Brink of Death, I'd Rather Perish In Your Arms

// CW: mention of blood, violence, guns.

4:15 AM

A commanding officer's voice echoed throughout the camp, urging everyone and everything to awake from any remaining slumber. Merely an hour left 'till the supposed ambush.

Thoma had been awake for a while now, doing exercise stretches to keep himself aware. Frankly, he couldn't sleep either. Despite being mostly unconscious, he couldn't release his hand from Ayatos, spending the entire night subconsciously holding onto him. However, the scorching adrenaline of his responsibility kept him awake. However, to say he felt exhausted would be a lie.

Instead, he was fearful.

He wielded a gun in his hand, given to him by Ayato after he returned with a safety firearm. It felt heavy, and some of its features were completely unrecognizable. Now it's labeled as his, a plan B in case all goes south.

"Have you ever used one?" Ayato pried in, buttoning his silver jacket. Despite the jarring situation he was in, he never used it as an excuse to not look as classy as ever.

Thoma shook his head. "I had a chance to use one during my time with the Adventurers guild." He carefully weighs the gun in his hand, inspecting its craftsmanship. "Never of his caliber, though."

"You needn't worry, it's merely a safety measure." Ayato walked past him, his hands in his pockets, relaxed as ever. It's terrifying to just how resynthesized he was to it. "Besides, if you're worried, I can always hold your hand." His back was turned towards Thoma, yet he could swear he felt mockery in his voice.

He stumbled back. "You! -" He choked, fumbling over his words. He felt his face heat up until his ears, a faint crimson covering each part of his skin. Despite it being a fact, the sense to feel embarrassed occurred only now.

However, all he got in reply was a chuckle. Ayato turned his face to glance over toward Thoma. "It's a jest. I'm glad to see you're more relaxed now." A wide smile expressing nothing but pure entertainment. Whatever he tried to do, it worked, for the grueling anxiety, Thoma felt seemed to have evaporated.

"Shall we go?"

5:23 AM ═════════╕

The plan was nuanced but simple; Sanganomiyas men will surround the left wing of the gang's base, while Kujou Sara's men will scatter along the right wing. The shumatsuban and their commissioner operated several possible escape routes, surveilling any potential slip-ups.

That's all there was to do. Thoma was crouching behind a bush, which coincidentally, and luckily, had a perfect view of the gang zone. It was an abandoned storage facility, conspicuous enough to not be suspicious. Alongside a perfect hiding place for traveling cargo.

Ayato was a few meters away, kneeling on one knee behind a rock of considerable size, his hand hovering over a handheld transceiver that was provided to every leader. Every now and then it would hiss and incoherent voices would follow. It was beyond Thomas's comprehension as to how Ayato would understand them, but maybe that's the result of many years under such circumstances.

Seconds, which were considered meaningful, turned into minutes, and eventually, minutes turned into an hour. The sun was way beyond the horizon, even though the morning dew didn't give up its cold. The blonde sat restless, his eyes darting from any glimpse of military personnel hiding further, to the base, which ominously loomed.

Ayato wouldn't move an inch. Every now and then he'd glimpse at Thoma, and even less likely their eyes would meet in a conjoined look. Immediately after that Thoma would turn his head away, pretending he never intended to notice Ayato.