Work Text:
What made life worth living?
Was there truly a reason?
He remembered something.
The freshly fallen snow crunched under his feet as he walked through the settlement. It was awfully quiet that day.
Well, it's not like he did anything about it.
He remembered thinking perhaps if he stopped existing, things would be okay. Things wouldn't change if he just… disappeared, right.?
…
Well, I guess one thing would change.
He found himself, staring at the clouded sky above him, crystals melting against his skin.
How annoying…
How much longer would it take before help came?
Jouichiro couldn't feel his hands or feet. Are they moving? Perhaps he was just too cold from the snow.
Perhaps they abandoned him. It wouldn't be the most insane thing he's thought of today.
He wasn't well-liked by some, but at least someone had to retrieve Il, right?
“I'm cold.” Jouichiro finally broke the silence, slightly turning his head toward Il, which only made Il roll onto his side, away from him.
Il didn't want to deal with this. Not with this guy.
“I can't feel my hands.” Jouichiro added when the other didn't say anything. A drawn-out sigh escaped him before Il rolled onto his back with a grimace.
Amidst the pure snow, there was an imperfection. The red of Jouichiro and Il’s blood. They laid in their icy crimson-soaked clothes without a word now that Jouichiro had stopped tormenting him.
What would people say in a situation like this.? Perhaps they cry or beg someone to save them.
Should he call out for Callisto or Mari? Just someone who could help?
He’d hate to be found by aliens at the very least.
“It's cold.” Il finally admitted as he closed his eyes for a few seconds, letting the snow encase him before he reopened them, watching the flecks of ice melt against his skin, staining them red as they made contact.
“It is, isn't it?” Jouichiro hummed in a much more positive tone than their situation should allow.
Well, this wasn't a bad way to go out either.
If he was asked right now what the point of living was, Jouichiro still wouldn't have an answer. He didn't need one.
If I was content with dying like this, then I'll die like this. Perhaps I'll have a pretty funeral.
Jouichiro’s eyes closed, and he smiled, the piercing on his lip colder than ice. He felt warm. “I wonder who would attend our funeral.” Jouichiro smiled, reopening his eyes to look over at Il.
“... Who would go to your funeral?” Il asked, almost colder than the snow…
Jouichiro paused for a second. “Marion?” He started curiously. Well, he didn't know about that. Marion always looked nervous to be around him. Like he reminded her of something.
“Yeah, as if.” Il scoffed. Jouichiro just laughed. At least they saw eye-to-eye on Marion's uncertainty. She's just that type of person. “She's terrified of you.”
“We went on a walk together the other day.” Jouichiro stated as if Il was wrong. Well, it mended her one-sided fear of him a bit.
“Who would go to see you get buried?” Jouichiro asked. “Jizi and DD?” Il stated the two names like it was the easiest thing ever. Well, perhaps Jouchiro was a little bit predictable. It's better than just the one name.
“Fair point.” Jouichiro sighed. Well, if Marion was the one who came to save them from their imminent deaths, Jouichiro hoped she wouldn't blame herself. She would do something like that.
As the snow pressed itself against his body, his eyelashes, his cheeks, his lips, his neck, and chest… Anywhere that the snow had access to…
Jouichiro didn't bother trying to hold onto this life… If he had any regrets, it'd be that he wished he died quicker.
As his consciousness waned, the world had fallen silent.