Asami held the phone in his hand, w

Asami held the phone in his hand, wrapped within his crimson-stained fingers from sweet, sticky blood. His other hand clutched at the gaping wound across his stomach, a dark red stain spreading slowly like cancer. A blade had plunged in and sliced through the muscles, then out, spilling warm liquid.

A wet finger flipped open the phone and held the first number, the most important number.

"Hello?"

"…" He could drown of ecstasy in that voice.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"…Akihito…"

"Asami?" Hesitation. "Asami, is that you?"

"Yeah… it's me."

"…"

"Thought I'd never call…didn't you?"

"What are you say-…Oh, God." Realization. "Are you hurt? Asami, answer me! Where are you?"

"I thought…" His breathing was laborious, halted by the muscles that screamed in pain, "I thought…you should know…"

"Asami? Tell me! Where are you?" Panic.

"Um…not sure…"

"What do you see?" Terror. "Is there anything around you? Asami, stay with me!"

"I'll stay…"

"Asa-"

"You know… I never realized…I wish you could be here."

"And I will. Just-just tell me where you are, okay? I will come for you, Asami. I will come for you."

"You would…" he chuckled then winced at the vibration that the laughter stirred, jarring spasms of pain, "Fuck…"

"Yes, I will be there. So Asami… Asami?"

"You always would…."

"Asami, stay with me!"

"You can't help me…"

"Don't say these things! Goddammit! Asami, I will help you. Just tell me where you are!"

"I don't… know…"

"Asami?"

"Akihito…"

"Yes?" His voice trembled.

"I love you."

"You stupid fool…"

"I was, wasn't I?"

"Oh, God… Asami…"

"Tell me."

"Asami, where are-"

"Tell me."

"…" Breath. "I love you."

"I know… I know…"

"Asami?"

"I know…"

"Asami! Asami! Answer me!"

No reply.

"Asami! Fuck! You fool! You can't leave like this! Asami!"

Silence.

"Oh, God…please don't…I…don't…"

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Rain pelted down on Akihito, blinking at the drops that landed on his lashes, his black suit and chestnut hair drenched and wet, matted to his body. The rain mingled with salty tears and diluted it but not his pain. Not his shredded soul. Not his heart split and shattered like a mirror dropped from the sky, a thousand fragments, irreparable. And it did nothing, nothing to ease the agony that twisted his gut.

Akihito raised his head. The cemetery was empty except for the one lone figure, a white rose in his hand, the tip of his finger bleeding blood from the thorn that had pierced it. The hand clenched tighter around the dangerous stem, daring it to dig deeper into his skin. Did it matter? He wouldn't feel it. Among array of stones, raised in honor of the dead, he stood silently. There was no honor in this.

There would be revenge. There would be bloodshed. Nothing more. Nothing less. Pay the respect that needs to be paid because respect must be paid.

And he will have his vengeance. His retribution. His vendetta.

"You goddamn fool…"

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

An arm reached out, aimlessly seeking for absent warmth, lazily pulling at loose sheets.

Akihito.

Eyes snapped open.

"Asami…"

The bed was cold and lonely, desolate with only his own empty shell of a living, breathing body.

Here I am, Asami, all yours.

Silent, tearless sobs gently rocked his body.

And you're not here to take me.

His lover wasn't there to claim him, to make his heart palpitate wildly in his chest, to make his skin flushed, blood rushing toward the surface, to take his breath away, panting under the dominant body, to make his throat sore from calling out the beloved name, to steal away fierce kisses and gentle kisses, to stroke him in gentle caresses.

Akihito sat up, his head groggy from the alcohol. His body felt sticky from falling asleep with his wet suit on the night before, still in his black mourning clothes that were drenched from the rainy funeral yesterday afternoon. Quickly and efficiently thought he stripped away his clothes and tossed them into the laundry basket and headed into the bathroom. There was no time to idle about in his grief, in his sorrow, when there were lives to be paid and blood to be spilled.

While he let the shower run itself warm, Akihito brushed his teeth, not once glancing at himself in the mirror. He already knew what he looked like, a car wreck, a disaster. Eyes swollen from crying, hair matted down, dark bags under his eyes. No matter. Akihito stepped into the shower, relishing in the little comfort it brought him, momentarily washing away the exhaustion he felt engrained into the crevices of his marrows.

He half dried himself with a white towel and left it on the bathroom floor, quickly heading to the drawers, and dressed as quickly as he had stripped. His camera waited for him at the far end of the room, but it was not time for his insignificant career. Not now. And not ever.

As he strode out the door, he slipped his phone into the pocket and the other, covered with dried, bloody prints, in his hand.

Kết quả (Việt) 1:

Asami giữ điện thoại trong tay ông, bọc trong màu crimson ngón tay của mình từ ngọt, dính máu. Khác tay cắp tại vết thương gaping trên dạ dày của mình, một vết màu đỏ sẫm lây lan từ từ giống như ung thư. Một lưỡi dao có giảm mạnh trong và cắt thông qua các cơ bắp, sau đó ra, đổ chất lỏng ấm áp.A wet ngón tay lộn mở điện thoại và tổ chức số đầu tiên, hầu hết số quan trọng."Hello?""…" Ông có thể rút ra của thuốc trong giọng nói đó."Xin chào? Ai là điều này?""… Akihito...""Asami?" Do dự. "Asami, là bạn?""Vâng... tôi.""…""Nghĩ rằng tôi sẽ không bao giờ kêu gọi... phải không?""Là gì bạn nói... Ồ, Thiên Chúa. " Thực hiện. "Bạn đau không? Asami, trả lời tôi! Đang ở đâu?""Tôi nghĩ..." Hơi thở của mình là siêng năng, dừng bởi các cơ bắp gào lên trong đau đớn, "tôi nghĩ... bạn nên biết...""Asami? Hãy cho tôi biết! Đang ở đâu?" Hoảng sợ."Um... không chắc chắn...""Những gì bạn thấy?" Chống khủng bố. "Có bất cứ điều gì xung quanh bạn? Asami, ở lại với tôi!""Tôi sẽ ở lại...""Asa-""Bạn biết... Tôi không bao giờ nhận ra... Tôi muốn bạn có thể ở đây.""Và tôi sẽ. Chỉ chỉ cần cho tôi biết bạn đang ở đâu, được chứ? Tôi sẽ đi cho bạn, Asami. Tôi sẽ đi cho bạn.""Bạn sẽ..." ông chuckled sau đó winced tại những rung động tiếng cười khuấy, jarring cơn đau, "Fuck...""Vâng, tôi sẽ ở đó. Asami rất... Asami?""Bạn luôn nào...""Asami, ở lại với tôi!""Bạn không thể giúp tôi...""Không nói những điều này! Kiếp! Asami, tôi sẽ giúp bạn. Chỉ cần cho tôi biết nơi bạn đang!""I don't… know…""Asami?""Akihito…""Yes?" His voice trembled."I love you.""You stupid fool…""I was, wasn't I?""Oh, God… Asami…""Tell me.""Asami, where are-""Tell me.""…" Breath. "I love you.""I know… I know…""Asami?""I know…""Asami! Asami! Answer me!"No reply."Asami! Fuck! You fool! You can't leave like this! Asami!"Silence."Oh, God…please don't…I…don't…"vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvRain pelted down on Akihito, blinking at the drops that landed on his lashes, his black suit and chestnut hair drenched and wet, matted to his body. The rain mingled with salty tears and diluted it but not his pain. Not his shredded soul. Not his heart split and shattered like a mirror dropped from the sky, a thousand fragments, irreparable. And it did nothing, nothing to ease the agony that twisted his gut.Akihito raised his head. The cemetery was empty except for the one lone figure, a white rose in his hand, the tip of his finger bleeding blood from the thorn that had pierced it. The hand clenched tighter around the dangerous stem, daring it to dig deeper into his skin. Did it matter? He wouldn't feel it. Among array of stones, raised in honor of the dead, he stood silently. There was no honor in this.There would be revenge. There would be bloodshed. Nothing more. Nothing less. Pay the respect that needs to be paid because respect must be paid.And he will have his vengeance. His retribution. His vendetta."You goddamn fool…"vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvAn arm reached out, aimlessly seeking for absent warmth, lazily pulling at loose sheets.Akihito.Eyes snapped open."Asami…"The bed was cold and lonely, desolate with only his own empty shell of a living, breathing body.Here I am, Asami, all yours.Silent, tearless sobs gently rocked his body.And you're not here to take me.His lover wasn't there to claim him, to make his heart palpitate wildly in his chest, to make his skin flushed, blood rushing toward the surface, to take his breath away, panting under the dominant body, to make his throat sore from calling out the beloved name, to steal away fierce kisses and gentle kisses, to stroke him in gentle caresses.Akihito sat up, his head groggy from the alcohol. His body felt sticky from falling asleep with his wet suit on the night before, still in his black mourning clothes that were drenched from the rainy funeral yesterday afternoon. Quickly and efficiently thought he stripped away his clothes and tossed them into the laundry basket and headed into the bathroom. There was no time to idle about in his grief, in his sorrow, when there were lives to be paid and blood to be spilled.Trong khi ông đã cho phép các vòi sen chính nó chạy ấm, Akihito chải răng của mình, không một lần glancing chính mình trong gương. Ông đã biết những gì ông trông giống như, một wreck xe, một thảm họa. Đôi mắt sưng lên từ khóc, tóc bết xuống, bóng tối túi dưới mắt của ông. Không vấn đề gì. Akihito bước vào phòng tắm, relishing trong sự thoải mái ít nó đưa anh ta, trong giây lát đi rửa kiệt sức ông cảm thấy engrained vào đường nứt của marrows của ông.Ông một nửa khô mình với một chiếc khăn trắng và còn lại nó trên sàn phòng tắm, một cách nhanh chóng hướng về các ngăn kéo, và mặc quần áo một cách nhanh chóng như ông đã tước bỏ. Máy ảnh của mình chờ đợi cho anh ta vào phòng, đến nay, nhưng nó không phải là thời gian cho sự nghiệp của mình không đáng kể. Không phải bây giờ. Và không bao giờ.Như ông strode ra khỏi cửa, ông trượt điện thoại của mình vào túi và khác, được bảo hiểm với bản in khô, đẫm máu, ở bàn tay của mình.