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It strikes Aomine suddenly, realising how young they all are.
He is only eighteen, barely an adult, and his life might as well be forfeit.
He can’t tear his eyes away from the unending gaze, and he thinks that if this was a staring competition, Satsuki would win hands down. There’s blood trickling down Aomine’s forehead, the slow stream moving from the cut on his hairline down the crease of his nose. His hands itch to smear the blood before it could drip further, but he’s paralysed by the deathly stare of the girl that he loved loves.
There’s a voice, a muffled screaming in his ears, and he feels hands around his face. They turn him, and the hypnotising gaze changes to entrancing eyes of golden hues.
“-need to go, Aominecchi!” Finally, the words reach his ears, and he gasps at the torrent of sounds that threaten to overwhelm him. Dying screams of the others reach him, and then there’s too much, too many things going on and there’s no time for distractions.
Kise, beautiful and bright Kise, drags them through the battlefield and past clusters of corpses, always running forwards despite everything. Aomine, still haunted by those magenta eyes going dark, stumbles with every step, his heart screaming to stay stay stay.
But he has to take care of Kise too. Kise, who was the last one he cared for, the last in his life who he would die for. So he forces his legs to push onwards, and somehow they make it through the boundaries, out of the fields and down into the depths of the underground city.
Through the maze of tunnels, they run and run until they can no longer hear the sound of gunfire and death. Kise still has a vacant look in his eyes, as if he were still stuck on the battlefield along with the rest of the dead. So Aomine links their arms together (the way Satsuki would have) and keeps moving, ignoring the blood still streaming down his face. He manages to get them to that room, where everyone else who had survived also congregated to. The gates close behind them – they’re the last ones to make it alive
Now all they can do is wait.
The stench of death lingers on their clothes, mixing with the sharp scent of decay in the cramped and humid room (he doesn’t look at the corner too closely). Aomine tries not to think about the story behind the stains on the floor. Trembling hands cling onto guns, faces gaunt and pupils still blown wide as adrenaline courses through them. He stares at these people, these survivors what a joke, remembering how they each screamed as they fought, their weakness shown in the shakiness of their voices.
He thinks, for a moment, that he wants to give up. Let them come at him, let them tear him apart while he refuses to hit back. But then, submission was never in his nature, not since he learnt how to fight off kindergarten bullies with sticks and then fists. Aomine remembers, for a second, the girl he used to protect, magenta eyes bright with intelligence and love. He then thinks with a fogginess that clouds his mind, that he will never see Satsuki grow up – and has to force himself to breathe.
Kise is leading them to where the supplies were, sitting them down on one of the boxes. Aomine’s clinging tight onto him, but Kise doesn’t protest, positioning himself so he can also wrap his arms around the taller teen. Frantic, he tries to wipe away the blood of Aomine’s face, only succeeding in smearing it. He’s trying to talk to him, Aomine knows he is, and he can hear the slow growing worry in his voice, but Aomine can’t think about anything other than pink hair and a dazzling smile that would never be seen again.
She was finally reaching her dreams, his mind shouts at him, and a bitter laugh almost leaves his lips as he thinks of the candles and cakes and wishes that she’d never live to see. Aomine wonders if it is childish of him to imagine that they all could survive – if only shooting stars and birthdays came in spades. Then he considers, with uncommon but not unusual darkness, that perhaps he would give up a wish to take down that so-called God that forced them to this, desperate and alone with no hope or direction to go other than where they allow them to.
“Daiki,” Kise whispers, soft and sweet, and Aomine is finally roused from his dark thoughts. Aomine looks at him and, when he only gives a sad smile, can do nothing but hold him tighter. Their arms are tangled together, bodies pressed up against one another until there is no space left between them. Kise burrows his head in the crook of Aomine’s neck, and Aomine rests his chin on top of soft blonde hair, watching the rest of the survivors with dead eyes.
The others stand in constant motion, arms jerking up at every slow drip of water, eyes darting from side to side, feet tapping the floor rapidly. There are some, like Midorima and his partner, who slump against the empty crates and barrels that litter the room, harsh breaths like screams in the overwhelming silence. Aomine watches as Tetsu opens his mouth, whispering croakily to Kagami beside him. There’s another with them, that black-haired brother of Kagami who hasn’t spoken since the fight. Murasakibara is not far away, but his eyes are distant and hazy, and there’s a tremble in his body that grows whenever someone gets too close. The black-haired boy stares with barely concealed emotion at Murasakibara, but doesn’t do anything.
Tetsu and Kagami share a brief hug, and the innocent nuzzle the blue-head gives the other only reminds Aomine of how Satsuki would embrace him with all her strength. He catches a glimpse of the envious glares from strangers directed at them, and he feels a stab of loss because everyone he knew at home, everyone who he cared for was –
But no, that’s not right. There is still the golden-haired boy, the one that is wrapped up in his arms, clinging onto him like there is no one else in the room. In other circumstances, Aomine would have brushed Kise off because damn it Kise, you’re so annoying, but here and now, whatever judgement there was had already died with the rest of their group.
There’s something new in his golden eyes – something haunting, dimming his light with the memory of what they had to do to survive. Aomine wants nothing more than to fight off the darkness for Kise, but is all too aware of how utterly weak he is.
They’re all quiet, words spoken in hushed murmurs and subtle touches. Then the next task comes, and there is true silence.
Just ten, it says, and the room holds its breath. Just ten for the final task. Just ten to leave and perhaps never to return, just ten to seal the fate of the world.
“Fine,” says Akashi, his eyes full of thunderous rage. He stands in the centre of the room, face dirty with sweat and grime, and Aomine notes how his hair was almost the same colour as blood. “They ask for ten? We’ll give them ten. I will go, and whoever comes with me will seal our victory.
It is absurd, the certainty in which he makes his proclamation. His voice speaks a promise, urging the rest of them on with vows of victory, of survival, if they could just complete this damned trial. Aomine watches some of the others stir, glancing up at him with glistening gazes, and sees desperate sparks of hope animate their bodies again. For them, this is all that is left: the dream of finishing this nightmare and waking up to a future that’s worth living. They could still have a future (not just for humanity but for the people they love), so long as they make it to the end.
But the weight of their decision is heavier than the world, and so for a long moment, no one moves.
The first one to step forward is Kagami, that headstrong idiot who Aomine knew would never give up. He does not say a word, only tightening his grip on the bulky gun, and nods at Akashi. He returns the gesture, turning back to the crowd with his mouth fixed in a grim line. Tetsu also goes to stand beside him, the shadow and the light never apart, and their eyes are so full of love that Aomine could almost feel it.
Seven sacrifices left.
Hesitantly, Kagami’s brother moves closer, his bond with Kagami shown in this one affirmation of trust. There is a faint shaking in his limbs, back hunching over with fear or regret or maybe resignation. He stares over everyone, empty eyes the colour of gravestones and ashes. That distant gaze breaks though, with the movement of the towering giant.
“I’m going with Muro-chin,” Murasakibara says with a trembling voice.
“Atsushi…”
“I’m going.” And although the giant shakes with every step, he still towers over the rest of them, his gaze steady on the black-haired boy.
Just five, only five left.
Midorima rises from where he sits against a crate, stumbling when he tries to take a step forward. His partner rushes to support him, and Midorima for once doesn’t refuse his assistance. Together, they join the others, and Akashi considers them with sharp eyes.
“Are you sure you can handle this, Shintarou?” For a second, Midorima hesitates. But then he just looks insulted, looking down at Akashi with disdainful eyes.
“Takao and I,” his partner beams at this, one of the few bright lights in the room, “are more than equipped to handle whatever they plan. We cannot lose.”
There’s a hint of a smirk on Akashi’s lips, which disappears swiftly when a mousy boy takes a timid step forward. Aomine wonders at the sight, of this cowardly little thing taking a stand when all these other people would not dare to. But then again, they’re all too young to make these decisions, and Aomine sees their youth in still too-soft cheeks and gangly limbs. Not even fully grown, but all too aware that the choices made today will determine if they have a tomorrow.
“I’m- I have to go. You won’t…no, you can’t stop me.” There’s steel behind those terror-filled words, and it’s enough to make Akashi concede. Aomine sees the care Akashi takes to pull the boy closer to him, and feels a helpless rage in his heart.
What would his family say to him, if they saw him now? Would they accept the things he had to do to get where he is, or would they have turned their back on him long ago? Aomine thinks and wonders, and realises with chilling awareness that he would have been left to journey on alone. He’s done too many things for them to forgive him now.
But Satsuki…what would she think?
He knew what she would say. He had grown up with her, loved her and took care of her ever since he could remember. Her voice and eyes were etched into his mind, and Aomine could hear her ask him only one thing, a small smile on her lips.
“To get here where you are now…was it all worth it?”
He thinks of Kise, and knows there’s only one answer he could give her.
Always.
The sacrifices turn their eyes to him and Kise now, sweat (or maybe tears) streaking down their faces, and he notices how defiance lights up the ones who have chosen to fight on. He glances to the cluster gathering on the outskirts, and the hanging heads tug at the solid weight in his chest.
He turns to Kise, because he’s the only one left, the only one Aomine can trust with his life (and heart and future and everything important to him). But Kise just stares back, eyes not yet dead, still alight with an overwhelming trust. He’s hit with the truth – that Kise would do whatever Aomine did, because they are two stars in the same orbit, and they would live or die together. He grabs Kise’s hand, making one last attempt to burn the image of him into his heart, and looks back at their final hope.
This would kill them all – Aomine can see it in the defeated tears of the ones who accept death with despairing gazes. But it is what has to be done, and the soldiers lift their chins up, facing their demise with determination in their clenched jaws.
Aomine tightens his grip on Kise’s hand, and takes his step.