Last Day

“Yomi.”

How many times had Juurou walked through the entrance to the Orange headquarters? Yomi had never known. He’d always been cooped up somewhere. Far from where Juurou would reach. Purposefully. If he wished to slaughter every kaiju in Orange, he could have done so with ease. But that was never his intention. He only came in to investigate or to “rescue” people. He never needed to tear through more than one kaiju to complete his mission, and he’d be able to leave before Yomi ever knew he was there. When they next met, Yomi was none the wiser as to what had happened. Even with all his meticulous planning of his “plots” and “arcs”.

But it had been enough that he knew what room he would find Yomi in. Even with all the kaiju evacuated. Even with their blood on his hands and their bodies lining the streets. He could find his way to Yomi.

He’d entered the hanger, the ceilings wrecked far above his head and the smoke off broken machinery rolled across the room. As he stepped through it, his feet were coated in fresh blood. The sickly scent of oranges. Even in the heart of their base, the kaiju hadn’t been safe.

The red eye that had been looming over him, with its iris expanding and contracting, finally shut as he approached what seemed to be a makeshift throne. Dark tendrils writhed down, taking the human form of Yomi, standing beside it.

“Yomi.”

“Juurou.”

He hadn’t even given himself a weapon. He was just the same Yomi, in a uniform he never fully buttoned.

The only difference was the lack of smile on his face.

“This is our final battle,” Yomi said, taking a step down from the throne. The further he travelled from the main body, the clearer it was how he clung to it in ribbons. Not fully forming as himself.

“We’re done fighting. Yomi,” his voice cracked despite himself. “Let’s go home.”

“Juurou.” He was close now, and that cruel smile had returned to his face. The familiar face that had orchestrated all this without a care. “Where are the other Icarus?”

He hadn’t even looked at them. They’d fallen so quickly; they were hardly recognisable as themselves. It seemed ridiculous to believe that they’d once been the heroes Tokyo had turned to. The ones that people bought figures of. The ones children, human and kaiju alike, had looked up to. Yet none of them had been able to hold their own when the time came.

Hadn’t that been what Yomi wanted? He wanted to win, didn’t he?

“I’ll defeat you.”
“Yomi!”

His fist connected with Yomi’s face before he had time to think. The newly reformed bones shuddered, his fingers shattering on the impact. They hadn’t had long enough. Dealing with humans, normal kaiju, was one thing. But Yomi was another thing. The sorts of injuries he’d endured needed weeks to recover. Yomi had done everything he could to prevent him from getting here.

Whether he was expected to live or die, he didn’t know. But he wasn’t meant to be here.

He switched to his other first, ploughing it into Yomi’s stomach, feeling it split into ribbons that gave way to his fist.

Yomi reformed himself, his hands no longer human buy taking the form of one from those kaiju - his other selves - to make a blade. It caught the light as he raised it, enough time for Juurou to move. He ducked to dive out of the way.

With no time to think, he picked the wrong direction.

A wound that should have gone to the side of his stomach instead collided with his chest. He felt nothing as the blade pulverised his heart.

He fell as the blade disappeared entirely, Yomi’s human hands reaching out to grab him. The blood pouring from his chest as he leaned against Yomi.

He was so warm.

“Yomi,” the voice came out in barely more than a whisper. He couldn’t find the strength to say much more.

Yomi pulled him closer. His hands were shaking.

Was he crying?

If it’s so awful to watch, won’t you go with me?

Juurou tried to reach for him, summoning the last of his power as Icarus into his fist.

Yomi’s fingers laced with his as the power dissipated from that fist.

“I’m going to die,” Juurou croaked. He had no power left. He was alone.

Yomi was abandoning him. Whatever retribution he must face, Yomi was forcing him to face it alone.

“Juurou,” Yomi’s voice was shaking. He’d never sounded so unsteady.

You’ll live in agony, Yomi.

“You killed your best friend,” Juurou choked. “You’ll live in regret until you die.”