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Feuillemort- the color of a dying leaf
I watch as his body falls onto the cold, hard ground. I watch as the distinctive red liquid pools around him. As the crimson specks sprinkle around the corners of his mouth.
One, then two, then three, then four specks...
I don't know how, but I gradually make my way to him, kneeling down until I feel the blood soak through my jeans. I don't mind, it's for him.
His once bright blue eyes stare into me, wanting relief, relief of something that was once so golden but long ago lost along with the many of their former shared friends.
I try so desperately to heal his severed body. The last of my dying energy pours into him in heaps. His body starts to slowly mend itself together as my breathing slows but never stops. No, not until he's healed.
I can hear the rest behind me, yelling out to me. They don't know this trick. No, this sacrifice.
He's frightened now. His hardly weakened cursed energy battling mine. He's finally caught on.
It feels peaceful almost. The thought of finally leaving this hell. The thought of seeing them again, all of them.
His blue eyes never left me. They are as bright as ever now while mine fades to a dull shade of brown.
If this is what death feels like, I regret not trying it out sooner. Then it hits me, the flooding memories of high school, my parents fighting over God knows what, that stupid fight at KFC.
I think of Utahime. Her long, dark hair paired with a contrasted bow. How could I do this to her? Maybe, just maybe she'll forget about me eventually and marry some nice girl in Kyoto.
I want to go back now, but it's too late. 28 years of nothing but desperation. Desperation to finally experience what's next.
Everything is distorted and blurry now. I look down at my hands, so pale it would give Satoru's hair a run for its money.
He speaks to me. Not softly, no, he's yelling. Telling me something along the lines of 'Shoko stop! Don't do this-'.
I can't understand the rest. Just the barely visible sight of him sitting up and holding onto my waist in desperation.
There's no point in stopping now, so I don't. Nothing feels right. My limbs tingle but I can't feel. I can smell a sweet scent of jasmine beside me but it too soon leaves
The familiar scent of Utahime. Why is she yelling at me now? I open my eyes to look at her one last time. She's gorgeous even with teary eyes and a bright red face full of sorrow.
Fall is ending soon, my favorite month. The leaves are fading to dull, lifeless colors. And when my breath hitches for the last time or my heart finally fails to beat, I am too a dying leaf.