Baji's words hung in the air, cut short before their completion. The uncertainty of his intended message gnawed at me. Would it have been a playful jab or a sincere sentiment? I'd never know. He was slipping away, and the realization hit hard—no more arguments, no more laughter, no more Baji.
As Baji's life force faded, Chifuyu Kun gasped, his shock mirroring mine. I reached for a pulse, but there was nothing. Baji was gone. The weight of the moment pressed on me—he had died on my brother's death anniversary, the same day my brother, once thought dead, resurfaced.
"Y/n-chan, is he—" Chifuyu Kun began, his voice heavy with grief. Though the answer was apparent, I confirmed it with a solemn nod. Chifuyu let out a heart-wrenching cry, joining the chorus of mourning that enveloped us.
Tears flowed freely, mixed with cries of self-blame from those around us. In the midst of the anguish, Mikey's tears fell, but his grief was channeled into violence as he turned to Kazutora, striking him.
Takemichi's voice cut through the chaos, his words a beacon of reason. "Baji Kun just died. What are you doing?" he yelled, his composure contrasting our collective despair.
Takemichi sprung into action, attempting to prevent Mikey from becoming a murderer. He was doing what I had promised to do, a promise that was proving difficult to keep in my weakened state. I struggled to stand, my pain and exhaustion was nothing in comparison to Takemichi's battered condition but, that didn't stop him from helping Mikey I need to help takemichi Kun.
Horrified, I watched as Mikey's anger shifted toward Takemichi, unleashing a torrent of blows that left him badly injured. Overwhelmed, I made my way toward them, every step agony, my only goal to halt Mikey's rage.
"Mikey Kun, please stop!" I implored, wrapping my arms around him in an attempt to restrain him.
"Let go, or you'll be next," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.
"No! I promised you I'd stop you if you went too far. I won't let you kill Kazutora or Takemichi Kun," I asserted, holding onto Mikey with all my might.
"Mikey Kun, Baji Kun sacrificed his life to protect Kazutora and Toman. Are you really going to disregard his final wish?" I continued, my voice shaking but determined. "I won't let you live with this regret and ruin your own life. You have a future ahead of you, a life that's worth preserving."
My grip tightened, and I held on with the hope that my words would reach him, that they would remind him of the values he held dear. In the midst of tragedy, I pleaded for Mikey to find a way back from the edge, to honor Baji's sacrifice and not allow his own grief to consume him.
Amid the chaos, my words seemed to reach Mikey, if only for a moment. His struggles began to subside, and his grip loosened. He stared at Kazutora and Takemichi, his emotions a whirlwind of anger, grief, and confusion.
Takemichi's battered form lay on the ground, bloodied and bruised, a stark reminder of the violence that had unfolded. His presence, his tenacity to stand against Mikey's fury, exemplified a resilience I could only admire.
"Mikey, we can't bring Baji back, but we can choose how we honor his sacrifice," I implored softly, my arms still around Mikey, anchoring him in the midst of his storm of emotions.
For a moment, it felt as though time stood still. The air was heavy with sorrow, the weight of the loss and the decisions made in its aftermath pressing down on all of us.
Takemichi, though grievously hurt, mustered the strength to speak once more. "Mikey, listen to Y/n-chan. Baji wouldn't want this."
As the words settled in the air, a hushed stillness enveloped the scene. Mikey's trembling form seemed to falter, his expression shifting as he gazed at Kazutora, the embodiment of his anger and vengeance.
Kazutora, battered and defeated, stared back, his face a mask of regret and realization. The violence and enmity that had fueled their clash now seemed to wane, replaced by a shared understanding of the pain they had both endured.
Takemichi, battered but determined, crawled to his feet. His gaze shifted between Mikey and Kazutora, his voice a mix of exhaustion and resolve. "We can't change what's happened, but we can choose how we move forward."
Takemichi Kun's words seemed to carry a weight that mine hadn't, as he spoke about Baji's sacrifice. Mikey's gaze shifted from Takemichi to Kazutora, his expression a mix of inner turmoil and realization. It was as if Takemichi's perspective had chipped away at the wall of anger that had been surrounding Mikey.
"Baji... he gave his life to protect us," Takemichi's voice quivered with emotion, his own pain evident, but his determination unwavering. "He believed in us, in you. He wouldn't want his death to lead to more violence."
" Kazutora Kun didn't kill Baji Kun he killed himself so that you'd have no reason to take revenge. Can't you understand that?" Takemichi Kun said.
Mikey's gaze lingered on Takemichi, absorbing his words, and for a moment, the air seemed to hum with an unspoken understanding. Takemichi had the unique ability to bridge gaps and bring perspective, a skill that was much needed in our tumultuous situation.
As the seconds stretched, a sense of quiet settled over the scene. Mikey's grip on the world of anger and revenge began to loosen, replaced by a somber contemplation. His gaze shifted to Kazutora, who looked back with a mix of guilt and regret.
The crowd watched in a heavy silence, the collective grief and exhaustion palpable. We were all weary, worn down by the events that had transpired.
Suddenly, Mikey's attention was drawn to something on the ground—a small, purple charm. He picked it up delicately, his fingers brushing over it as if it were a cherished relic.
"This charm... from that day," Mikey muttered, his voice barely more than a whisper. His gaze locked onto the charm, his features softening with a mix of emotions. "He held onto it all this time?"
A profound realization seemed to wash over him, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. It was as if he saw Baji in a new light, understanding the depth of his friend's loyalty and the lengths he had gone to protect their bond.
Mikey Kun held the small, purple charm in his hand, a tangible link to Baji's memory. "This is that charm," he whispered, his voice a mixture of reverence and sorrow.
A heaviness lingered in the air as the group, united in their grief, listened to Mikey speak. "I wasn't the one who created Toman... it was Baji," Mikey revealed, his words punctuated by the tears and sobs of those around him.
The gravity of the truth settled over us—the gang we knew, the bonds we held dear, all rooted in Baji's vision. "If one of us gets hurt, we'll all protect them," Mikey's voice quivered but held a newfound conviction. "I want a gang where everybody protects each other. That's what our gang was founded on," he continued, his voice stronger now.
My own voice wavered as I added, "And he made sure he protected us."
Takemichi Kun's voice joined ours, his words somber and reflective. "Baji Kun worked tirelessly, all by himself."
Mikey Kun's gaze remained fixed on the charm, and his next words were laden with regret. "I'm sorry, Baji," he whispered, his voice a fragile admission of guilt.
Amid the raw emotion, the distant wail of police sirens pierced the air. Panic rippled through the group, and a sense of urgency took hold. The reality of the situation dawned on us—we couldn't linger here any longer.
Without hesitation, the crowd began to disperse, driven by a shared desire to avoid the looming confrontation with the authorities. But even as we moved to leave, a reluctance remained, an unwillingness to abandon Baji's side.
It was then that Kazutora stepped forward, his presence unexpected but not unwelcome. He approached us, a quiet determination in his eyes. "You should run," he said, his voice tinged with a sense of resignation. "I'll stay with Baji."
Mikey's gaze met Kazutora's, and understanding passed between them. The Toman members, once united against Kazutora, now followed Mikey's lead, realizing the weight of his sacrifice.
Kazutora's words carried a finality that seemed to echo in the stillness. "I won't ask for forgiveness. I'll shoulder this forever," he declared, his voice a mix of regret and acceptance.
With a heavy heart, Mikey nodded, acknowledging the decision they had collectively made. As we turned to leave, our footsteps seemed to echo the bittersweet truth—Toman's foundations were forged by Baji's vision, his sacrifice a testament to the bonds that held us together.
As the group dispersed, our shared path diverging, I couldn't help but glance back one last time. Baji lay there, his memory forever etched in our hearts, his sacrifice a reminder of the price we paid for our choices. And as the world moved on, I held onto the hope that Baji's legacy would continue to shape the gang he had created, and that our shared future would be guided by the promise of protection, unity, and a better tomorrow.