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"You know, I like them. Being with them reminds me of the time I spent with you back then."
The Ryuusei on the screen smiles, eyes soft. Shion blinks, five quick successions, and then squeezes his eyes closed, in a desperate attempt to not fucking cry, because fucking hell. After years and years of fucking lying to him, Ryuusei had the guts to leave this video?
Shion wants to punch him. Wants to shake him hard. Wants to chase after him to the afterlife so he could kill him again and maybe—
"Reminds me of how much you love Samurai Troopers."
—maybe pulls him close and growl into his skin, anger and frustration and regret and apology tumbling like an endless stream of profanities Shion would like to scream to the heavens. It's not fair, it's not fair. You fucking liar, Ryuusei, you said we held back nothing, but look at what you've done—
"So yeah. I like them. And I want you to take care of them, Shion."
Stop it, Shion wants to say, but from the screen, Ryuusei's smile only grows softer. His gaze flicks away from the camera as a soft shade of red sweeps across his cheeks faintly.
"Because I love you. Always have."
Shion freezes.
"I wish I could do a lot more. Fight more, a little longer. Like you always could. But... If you're watching this, then, well. You know." On the screen, Ryuusei shrugs, smile turning into a self-deprecating grimace for a second. "Not gonna lie, I'm kinda jealous of you."
A lump forms and lodges itself in Shion's throat. He remembers Ryuusei struggling to stand right behind him as Sasuke hurls shuriken into his barrier, remembers the rasp in Ryuusei's voice as he says, I'm no good with words and just like you and jealousy, maybe?
He hadn't been able to say anything to that.
"But I want you to find everything good in them. The way I found hope in them, too." Ryuusei's gaze finds the camera back, his voice quieter through the speaker. "Because I love you. I thought you should know."
He wants to pretend he doesn't understand. That when Ryuusei says love, it means the same as the rest of the troopers. That it doesn't mean feelings buried for years, yearning tamped down into embers as Shion chose to stew in his anger and resentment for DST and by extension, Ryuusei. Except he can't, because on the screen, Ryuusei's cheeks still have those shade of red, eyes soft and so familiarly honest it makes Shion's chest aches for years past.
Shion's gaze blurs. He blinks rapidly again, because he'd told himself he was not going to fucking cry, but this time, his sight doesn't clear up. Instead, he tastes salt.
He can't see Ryuusei on the screen. But he hears him anyway, the soft, small, sheepish chuckle that ends with a relieved sigh.
God, Shion wants to fucking punch him.
"Please, Shion."
Fucking Ryuusei.
"Take care of the Samurai Troopers for me, too."
Giving off the new Samurai Troopers like a fucking gift, when it's just four grieving kids Shion has no intention to fuck with. As if saying, here, have something I like, so you won't be alone.
".....Well then. Bye, Shion."
The video ends.
And Shion presses his fists hard against his eyes, trying to stop the stupid fucking tears because he'd told himself he wasn't gonna cry, he wasn't gonna grieve, because he'd gone years without speaking to Ryuusei, what fucking difference does it make, then, now that Ryuusei is gone?
Because I love you.
"Ryuusei, you fucking ass," he grits out, breath catching painfully in his throat. "You fucking—goddammit, Ryuusei..."
He wants to punch Ryuusei. Wants to chase him to the afterlife and kill him and maybe revive him and—
"You had no fucking idea...!"
—and maybe pulls him close and kisses him senseless, until both of them can't breathe, until none of them forget about the weight of everything they never said, or until Ryuusei shares Shion's breath and life, so that he could stay.
Except now the only things he has left is everything Ryuusei had handed him. The people Ryuusei loved. The bracelet Shion made that Ryuusei took pride in donning. The spirit and determination Ryuusei kept, right until he'd clutched Shion's hands, let go, and finally breathed his last.
And what can Shion do, but to gather all of them in his arms and hold on close?
"Fine," he mutters, as his sight finally begins to clear, as his cheeks slowly dry, as the taste of salt finally reaches his throat and cloys thickly there. "Fine, I'll take care of them. If that's what you want."
His laptop blinks into a blank, black screen, and Shion stares at his reflection on it. If he stares hard enough, it feels like he can see Ryuusei staring back.
So he swallows, stares hard, and says.
"I'll form the new Samurai Troopers."
-----o0o-----