10. Rose in the dark
The air reeked with the stench of blood.
Giginose had just finished off the leader of the rebel assassin squad when he turned around-
-and almost flung his scythe into the face of the man trailing right behind him.
"YOU. Trying to give me a heart attack?" he growled, shoving Barokuro hard in the chest.
Barokuro just grinned wide, blood smeared across his cheek like it was nothing.
"I just wanted to compliment you. You look really cute when you're cutting people down."
"You've got a death wish." Giginose scowled, spun around, and landed a solid uppercut to Barokuro's jaw.
A heavy thud rang out.
Barokuro stumbled backward, his lip split open, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
But he only laughed, eyes squinting in amusement as he wiped the blood away-completely unfazed.
"That actually hurt," he stuck his tongue out to taste the blood, then winked.
"But you know... the more you hit me, the more I think this might be your way of expressing love."
"Don't twist the concept of love, you moron."
Giginose turned his back coldly.
"Next time, I'll knock you out completely."
"Go ahead. As long as you're the first thing I see when I wake up."
Barokuro stood, his shoulders dusty and bloodstained, yet his eyes were still shining like fireworks in a night sky.
Giginose said nothing, walking ahead.
He didn't understand why this guy kept clinging to him-kept smiling like a fool amidst all this killing-and kept making Giginose... notice him, even when he didn't want to.
Barokuro trailed behind, hands in his pockets, softly whistling.
The blood on his lips had yet to dry.
Under the flickering magic lights, their shadows stretched long along the ground.
One walked fast, the other sauntered.
Between them-was the distance of a punch... and a heart not ready to admit anything.
---
The stone door shut behind them, blocking out the chaos of the battlefield.
Basement Level 4 of the Organization was reserved for mission debriefings-cold, secure, and utterly devoid of the fresh blood scent that followed them in.
Giginose tossed a folder onto the team leader's desk, his voice curt:
"Mission complete. Leader neutralized. All others terminated. No survivors."
The recorder barely looked up, their gaze sliding briefly to Barokuro leaning against a pillar, his left shoulder exposed from a torn shirt, blood still dripping casually to the floor.
"You got hit again?"
The tone was somewhere between surprise and boredom.
Barokuro grinned:
"Hey, how else would I stay sharp? Giginose's punches work better than any stimulant."
Giginose narrowed his eyes and snapped:
"One more dumb comment and I'll punch you so hard you'll skip the report entirely."
Barokuro raised his hands in mock surrender, still smiling, but leaned in closer to Giginose's ear and said, much softer:
"Then what if I say... I'm hurting somewhere else. Wanna check for me?"
CRACK.
The second punch of the day landed with a dry crunch of teeth.
Barokuro crashed into the wall, grinning still-blood trickling from his mouth down his chin like some twisted badge of satisfaction.
Giginose turned away in frustration, but everyone noticed the way his eyes flicked-just for a second-toward Barokuro.
Fast. Instinctive. Uncontrollable.
"Report's done. Go get treated."
The recorder didn't even look up.
"And for the love of order, stop bringing blood into the workspace."
Barokuro shrugged.
"I got punched. Not like I bit myself."
"You want to try?" Giginose asked, fists tightening again.
"Sure do," Barokuro replied without hesitation, his eyes lighting up with pure glee.
The room fell into a strange silence, the soft whir of recording machinery the only sound that remained.
---
"Get to the infirmary. Now."
Giginose's voice was harsh, his hand finally letting go of Barokuro's collar after the punch.
Blood was still seeping from the other man's mouth, and a dark bruise had begun to bloom over his cheekbone.
"Nope," Barokuro winced-not from pain, but laziness.
"Don't you feel a little bad? That punch made my molars ache. My jaw could be broken, you know..."
Giginose spun on his heel, grabbed his collar again, and dragged him straight toward the infirmary.
"Then I swear I'll make sure you don't die from injuries, but from my own hands if you keep babbling."
"Violence doesn't solve emotional problems, Giginose."
"Good thing I have no emotions to deal with."
Down the hallway, a few passersby glanced at the familiar scene-
One guy grinning despite his battered face,
The other dragging him like garbage with a stone-cold expression.
No one was surprised.
At the infirmary door, Giginose shoved Barokuro inside.
The man stumbled, nearly falling, but still turned to grab his sleeve.
"Hey. Can you stay with me? Just for... five minutes?"
Giginose glanced at his sleeve, caught in that grip.
A moment of hesitation.
Then he jerked away and muttered:
"I don't have time."
He turned and walked off, leaving Barokuro standing there, back against the stark white wall, his expression unreadable-
somewhere between mockery... and loneliness.
"Next time, I'll trade a smile for more blood... Maybe then, you'll stay longer."
He whispered to himself and chuckled softly.
At the hallway corner, Giginose paused briefly-
as if just adjusting the rumpled collar from earlier.
But his hand clenched in his coat pocket-
heavier than it should've been.
And for a reason even he couldn't name.
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