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He doesn't smile.
Not anymore. Not after Smile’s incident. Not after coming back. And especially not after knowing what happened to Wreck.
In the back of his mind, he thinks that even in death there was no rest for him. And not even coming back.
Then again, after all the things he had done, did he really deserve it?
Now walking towards the edge of this levitating platform, he wonders if Wreck could see him now up there.
Broken and dead, all in the ways that matter. That's probably the one thing he might be good at.
— — —
Nice takes comfort in the fact that Wreck didn't know about the missions he did for Shang De. (Slowly, his body moves).
He doesn't know. (He felt himself slipping away).
He was glad it stayed that way. (Sometimes, he's just not himself).
Let him die thinking that Nice was still the friend, the person, he used to be back then. (Darkness)
— — —
He misses him.
— — —
He was the only one.
He recalls a poem he heard when he was a child.
And he was wonderful.
— — —
It’s not fair! He screamed in his head, not able to do it the way his body was now. Stiff, almost robotic.
Why did he come back? Why couldn't he stay dead?
— — —
He wakes up.
And he feels.
He knows what it is, felt it course through his body the moment before Phobiaclone’s body hit the ground. A splash on his cheek, entering through his pores like an eager parasite.
Fear.
— — —
“Want to be a hero with me?”
— — —
“What do you think of my smile?”
— — —
“Don’t you think that the whole ‘perfect hero’ brand is a bit much?”
— — —
What happened then, again?
— — —
…
— — —
“Think of who you're smiling for.”
He thinks of his childhood. Chasing Smile. Wanting to be just like him. A hero. A light in the darkness.
“That's it!”
— — —
….
— — —
“I think it will bite you in the ass someday.”
— — —
(The world became a much darker place without you.)
— — —
He wonders if X feels the same way he feels.
— — —
Fights. Tarot cards. More fights. Allies.
Dragon boy. He sneers.
And X.
— — —
A flash of pink in his peripheral vision and a body fell right beside him.
The swing of the pink mechanized bat was a bit too close to his liking even when the target wasn't him. But he was sure that the closeness of that bat was on purpose.
Luo Li left. Off to help the others.
And he was alone again.
— — —
This is the end now.
All Trust. Gone.
The numbers on his wrist didn't dwindle down. But the familiar blue turned light before finally disappearing. The weight fell off his shoulders.
All fear, too. Gone. It was the only thing keeping him ‘alive’ and now his body felt so light.
He sees black in his peripheral vision. Then an arm wrapped around him once he falls, body sluggish and weak.
X was a nice person. He thinks.
For a moment, he imagines the black belonged to Wreck.
And he smiles.
— — —