Red.

Crimson.

Scarlet.

The color of love, of rage, of courage.

You wondered what it was like.

Even as your blood poured steadily into your hands, coating it with the warm, sticky substance, you were mesmerized with the idea that you might be covered in this ethereal hue. You'd always liked red, even if you couldn't see it. You pictured it as warmth, like the flames performing a choreography among the tiny molecules of your blood in order to give it that fiery red.

Even as you bled out, the world never ceased to be beautiful.

Blood was indeed thicker than water, as the saying goes, in the literal sense. Your quaking fingertips rubbed against each other, feeling the viscous liquid as it drained your essence of life.

You had never envisioned death to be quite this peaceful.

It was like someone had muted the world, to the point where all you could hear were muffled cries. Were you underwater? Had you suffocated so much by your own blood that you were drowning? Perhaps your ears were bursting, and the vermillion was trickling down the sides of your head to prevent you from hearing yourself come to an end.

You're... coming to an end.

Huh.

You'd always had an interesting relationship with death. You feared it, as all humans did, but it never resided quite long in your conscience. It's an inevitability, so there was no reason to spoil your present over an imminent byproduct of life.

"[y/n]! [y/n], don't... don't die, I-"

Who was slurring your name, and why did they sound so frustrated?

Was frustration really worth it? You're on the verge of loosing consciousness and never waking up, so what good will frustration do now? You simply supposed the person crying your name was overwhelmed with emotions. You would've felt a pang of guilt, a final battle to stay alive in order to satisfy them and maybe even yourself, but at this moment you felt nothing.

Your lips parted, but you quickly thought better of speaking. You could sense the bile rising in your throat, and you'd manage to do little more than gargle on your bodily fluids, which may just alarm them further.

Just as you thought your fingers were going to go as numb as your mind, you felt something slide under, then grip onto your hand as though you were physically slipping away and this was a way to keep you from leaving too soon.

"Not you too, please, I can't-"

The same voice as before, who probably also belonged to the one holding onto you, buried their face into your shoulder, sobbing. You still couldn't figure out who they were, but your mouth seemed to move on its own, completely disregarding what you'd thought previously, as if you were possessed by your instinct.

"I-t's not... like you to say p-please, Sato."

You let out a weak laugh, then coughed up some more blood.

Oddly enough, you didn't feel like you were in pain. The only thing running through your mind, the only thing that irked you was the lack of closure. What is going on? Who is this 'Sato', and why are they holding onto you so tightly? Can't they let go? Why won't they let go? Why won't you let yourself go?

You were still trying to stay alive, despite your thoughts saying the contrary.

"[y/n], just stay with me, Shoko is on her way, yo-"

You squeezed their hand tighter.

You weren't quite sure what your body was doing, but it continued to move in its own.

You blinked once.

You blinked twice.

You still saw nothing.

You still felt nothing.

And, somehow, feeling nothing made you feel sad.

Your breaths were getting more and more ragged, and you thought back to how you had gotten here. Someone had stabbed you, right?

That must be why you feel like there's a hole in your heart.

The individual by your side seemed to have noticed that your grip got weaker and weaker, since their screaming got louder and louder to the point where you couldn't hear anything else.

Even as you let go, as your pulse softened into nothing and your heart ceased to beat, only one thought resonated throughout your frigid limbs and echoed in the cavity of your chest.

I'm coming, Suguru. We'll be together again.

I promise.