Wasn't missing too draining, too hard to let a heart crave so badly it ached? Wasn't letting go a kind of murder? Wasn't life so short to such urgency of loving? Perhaps yes wasn't an answer, and no never meant the same, and maybe was not that close to a what if or a pair of hands that hid the warmth of a breathy laugh and the lines of years of them. Perhaps the meaning was just as devastating as the connotations, like love was too.
For Yasuko it had been that what made it all worse. Love. It had been following her, pleading to be welcomed in her arms, yet she never dared to reject it, so it clinged to her, as if some day her eyes would look back at it, with a childishly hello lingering on the corner of her lips the same way it did on Ikehara's the moment he guided her around what was left of a building's second floor, where everything reduced to the sound of their steps and the green eating the insides of desks, the backs of chairs and the windows' broken frames.
There were only two games left and still, Yasuko's eyes seemed to be permanently glued on him.
"Is the back of my head good?" Ikehara asked, glancing at her over the shoulder at the same time she turned hers to the side, finding a speck of sun on the ground.
"Pretty average." She shrugged.
"Spit it out already." Ikehara leaned against a rusty desk, placing the rifle he'd been carrying next to him on top of an useless keyboard.
He asked and she did. Immediately. Maybe too fast to ignore how much she cared, how troublesome it was to answer, how feral it was to feel it. Yasuko had never known a closeness like that, one she feared and desired and hoped it stayed with her one minute longer than the the one that had passed by. If someone had told her Ikehara had cursed her to be drawn to him, she might had believed it. The only proof she would've needed were his eyes, looking back at her as he had done the night she prepared an extra cup of tea and walked outside his room although hers was on the other side of The Beach, or the night before he left, when he knocked on her door and didn't speak a word even as he let her hands rest on his back, waiting for her fingers to move first. A caress he didn't want to see, because if his eyes had watched her hesitation, he would've tried to apologize for ever thinking of saying goodbye, and it would've been too late. It always would've been too late, even at that time.
"Do you think you'll ever forget me?" Could love be forgotten too?, she exhaled.
"No," Ikehara lowered his voice, as if he was afraid of hearing himself, "I wouldn't dare."
"Do you think we can still be friends when this is over?" For once, she stepped forward, not caring if he noticed her fists clenching, her eyelids barely blinking at his shoulders tensioning and his breathing fastening.
Nothing was spoken, yet it didn't matter. She knew the answer just watching him shift under her gaze.
Perhaps teeth and claws and blood was all they were made of. Perhaps soft whispers and fading into each other's arms and letting their eyes do the talking was the other side of it.
A gunshot travelled down the street, and like a sixth sense, it felt as if the pause menu they had been hanging on reloaded their respawn point in a blink.
Ikehara grabbed her arm tightly the moment they heard it, moving her out of the windows' way. Engulfed by nature, he pulled branches and snatched leaves off their vision to get a better view of what was going on outside their building.
"What the fuck?" Ikehara grabbed her rifle and pointed it at the center of attention of the city. Three figures she swore she would recognize even if she lost her sight were facing each other.
"Please tell me that's not who I think it is." Yasuko peaked at the trio over his shoulder, but Ikehara's awful management of firearms almost knocked her out as he gave up, handing it to her with a grumpy pout.
"It's not," He complied to her wishes, gaslighting her without a second thought, yet he quickly changed his mind when she focused Niragi under her rifle's scope, "Okay, it is."
Yasuko shushed him, eyeing the situation with a steady pulse. From what she could gather, it seemed as Arisu had the brilliant idea of pointing a hunting rifle to a hotheaded Niragi, who had thrown something to an injured Chishiya. She was about to say it appeared as if they were deciding who would start shooting at each other when they did. All at the same time.
Startled, Yasuko stepped on Ikehara's foot, almost missing Arisu and Chishiya's bodies hiding behind some cars and Niragi taking advantage of them running away by standing on the roof of one of them. Like a lunatic, he paced his gun back and forth between both the spots they had taken cover.
"If you're planning on shooting him, you better do it now." Ikehara commented as Arisu stood up, firearm lowered, and Usagi walked up to them just as unsure as she had been the first time they met. Her heartbeats accelerating were the detonator. Usagi's there. "Yasuko, don't panic." Usagi's there, Usagi's there, Usagi's there— "Yasuko!"
She pulled the trigger only to hear it echoing a giggle. She tried again, desperate, yet the second time she heard it, she stomped it against the window's frame. A scratch was made on the rifle and her wrist got suddenly wet, slowly numbing under the anger bubbling up her throat.
"It's stuck!" Her fingers slipped when she tried it once more.
Outside, Niragi had opened fire on Usagi, and all Yasuko did was close her eyes and hoped no bullet landed on her. She hoped she wouldn't see her body on the ground, bloody and gasping for air; she hoped the earth would have mercy; she hoped her love wasn't meant to be fists and broken ribs, and fingers and nails gouging and tearing. Because if it did, if loving became as terribly frightening as opening her eyes was, Yasuko would've never let Ikehara grab her shoulders and push her back from where they had entered the building, finding Chishiya's figure resting on his back on the floor next to Usagi and Arisu, and a couple meters away from Niragi's wounded figure.
"I guess hunting rifles aren't as deadly as you thought." Niragi said with some difficulty, his lungs loving the chase for an inhale and missing the exhale leaving through his lips in a wheeze.
Yasuko didn't miss the opportunity to kick him in the face as they made their way towards their friends. Whatever he said next, didn't matter to her as a blimp moved past them right on top of where they were standing, like a warning that came walking down the road. Or maybe running, screaming.
"Run!" Arisu exclaimed as the King of Spades made his glorious entrance, shooting at everyone in his sight. It was his playground, his territory, and they were his new toys.
Everybody left had commenced to gather around Shibuya after seeing the blimps. There, where the streets became a battlefield, they couldn't go further until they took him down, and as the shooting was spreading, Yasuko couldn't help but wonder if they even could take a step in his direction without getting their heads blown out.
"Ann! Kuina!" Arisu's scream caught her off guard. Looking forward in the distance, both woman got closer to them, meeting them up behind an abandoned car.
"It's been a while." Ann said, exchanging a nod with Ikehara and Yasuko.
"Did Chishiya make it?" Kuina asked.
Yasuko glanced at Arisu the same way she did, waiting for an answer, eyes pleading a lie, heart beating for the truth unspoken.
"He's good!" Was all he could spit out.
And just like that, like a word settling down, the shooting turned towards them. As a bullet grazed Ikehara's shoulder, everyone tried to make themselves invisible until they held their breath and took the chance to run off that spot as fast as their exhaustion allowed them. They ran without looking back, with closed eyes and crossed fingers, only stopping abruptly at Arisu's voice calling Ann's name.
Yasuko turned around at the same time the King of Spades grabbed Ann by the neck. Ignoring Ikehara's hands trying to pull her backwards, she brought the rifle up, marking the King of Spades under her scope and waited for the moment when a car's wing mirror bonked him on the head to shoot. Successfully, her bullet pierced his dominant hand, making his pulse waver for a second, yet he still kept his firearm steady up her way until a roaring engine came dashing down the street, crushing him against another vehicle.
A mass of fire licked them as a form of ending.
But if this is the end, why do I feel like this?, Yasuko's hand found its way on Ikehara's wrist, staining his flesh the color of her blood.
Her eyes wandered all over the place, meeting Usagi's on the other side of the street before going back to the explosion. It was then when she saw a glimpse of it and the winning chantings were silenced, replaced by pained grunts and terrified screeches making the earth vibrate.
This is just the beginning.