So, I decided to share this with you. It is a rewrite (though still quite old) of the original death scene of Suzaku, Haruka's first love.

I'm sorry in advance for putting you through this. I was twelve when I originally wrote this and about 15 when I re-wrote it.

[hider=The Most Awkward Love Confession]
Haruka coughed, wiping away the blood that spilled from her mouth with the back of her hand, only to discover that her hand was even more bloody than her face. What the hell was going on? Her mind was fussy, as if she had just woken from a very long nap and she could barely feel anything; her body was numb. She knew she was on the ground, but the sensation of the muddy grass between her fingers was as if years away. Her vision swam. All she could see was red squiggles. She blinked several times and, slowly, the redness disappeared and gave way for an even more terrifying view.

The first thing she saw was the man they had fought. He was some ways off from her, on his back, lying completely still. She watched him for a few seconds, her own breath coming out in ragged gasps as she watched for the heave and fall of his chest, but found there to be none. He was still as a corpse, because that was what he had been reduced to.

Her memory started to come back to her. Suzaku. Suzaku had come to her rescue. She had been hurt. Her blurry vision went straight to her arm, confirming her fear; a large piece of a broken branch was wedged deeply into the tissue of her bicep. Shaking with the strain it took of her, she pushed herself up to a sitting position with her good arm. She curled her fingers tightly around the branch and bit her lip with anticipation of the pain that was soon to devour her. She held back the scream that threatened to tear from her throat and managed to hold it down to a small grunt. Blood started pouring down her arm and dripping into the mud beneath her, which had already been stained red by her other wounds. She could barely stay sitting and tears welled in her eyes. She was going to die. She could feel the angel of death lurking right around the corner.

The feeling was starting to return to her body. She hurt all over. Her arm was far from the only thing that had been hurt. Several small cuts littered her arms and legs and a large gash across her stomach was likely the source of the blood that had stained the ground red. She briefly wondered where Kenta was. Had he run, like she had told him to? The medic was nowhere near strong enough to have survived if he had not. It would have been nice, though, to have him around to heal her broken body before she passed out from blood loss. She was getting really dizzy again.

A wet cough brought her out of her head. It sounded like death. Her gray eyes, stained red by the blood that dribbled from a gash on her forehead, searched the area quickly. Her first thought was their enemy. Had he not been as dead as she had thought? No, his chest was not moving at all. The cough came again, weaker and wetter this time. Her gaze fell on a figure quite far away. The white clothes on the lithe form was more red that white by now and the long, black hair that she had adored for years, lay sprawled around his head like a halo of darkness. Tears began to swim in her vision again, “No,” she whispered, her mind seizing all action. She was frozen, just watching his cheat heave and fall with ragged, shallow breaths. He coughed again and she sprung into action without a second thought. Her right leg was broken, so walking, or running, was not an option. She was dragging her beaten and battered body across the muddy grass by her one good arm, while the other hung limply and dragged across the ground. She could feel rocks and splinters digging into her flesh as she went, but she barely even noticed. All she cared for at the moment was getting to him.

When she finally did reach him, she felt as if an eternity had passed. All of her energy was drained. She was sweating more than that time she ran at full speed all the way to Sunagakure. She tried her best at a smile as soon as she was within his line of vision. His gaze was unfocused and far off, as if he was not really seeing anything. Gently, like a mother picking up her infant for the fist time, she picked his head off of the ground and placed it on her thighs, like she had all of those years ago, when she had pushed him off of the swing. Tears streamed down her cheeks against her will.

“Hey,” she said softly, moving a strand of hair that stuck to his beautiful face with blood away. His breath hitched a bit and his white eyes moved around a bit, “Can you hear me?” she asked a bit louder.

“Ha … ru … ka ...” came the ragged reply, accompanied by blood running from the corner of his mouth and down his chin, “I ...” he began, but was cut off by that wet coughing she had heard before. Discreetly, she moved the fabric of his shirt so it covered that large, gaping hole in his chest.

She shushed him lightly, petting his sticky hair like she had done so many times in the past, whenever he would allow it in his tired, sick or hurt moments, “You don't need to say anything. Just hold on a little bit. Help is on the way,” she lied.

He gasped a bit, his eyes finally finding her face and focusing on her. He saw the tears streaming down her face uncontrollably and knew she was lying, “You always were … a terrible … liar,” he told her in a weak version of that arrogant tone he liked to use.

Haruka sniffled and sobbed-laughed, “I know,” she replied with a sad smile.

“Haruka,” he said again, but was cut off by a spout of wet coughs. Haruka petted his hair soothingly and cooed at him until he stopped. She wiped the blood from his mouth with her sleeve. “Haruka, I...” he began, but stopped himself, “Haruka, I … I don't think … You're not a total idiot ...” he managed in a weak, wet voice. His eyes were growing unfocused again.

“And you're not ...” Haurka began to reply, but had to stop when a loud sob tore itself from her throat, “You're not … a heartless bastard,” she managed through her tears.

“I wonder ...” he barely even whispered, “where I'll go.”

He was no longer breathing. His white eyes stared, unfocused, at the blue sky above. Haruka smiled for a few seconds more, making sure that he really was gone, before she let herself break down. She just sat there, with tears dripping onto his pale face for what seemed like forever. He was dead. Suzaku was really dead.

It took all of her willpower to stand. It hurt so bad, but she barely felt it. This time, it was the ache in her chest that had her feeling numb. His body felt so light in her arms. He had never looked so small before. She was limping quite bad from her broken leg and she was barely even holding on to his legs with her left arm, that was not quite responding to her like it should. It took her hours to move, so when she finally did reach the gates, it was dark out.

“Who's there?” a female voice that Haruka recognized all too well called out, “Haruka? Is that...”

“Sayuri...” Haruka sobbed, seeing the older sister of the boy she was carrying in her arms appear out of the darkness with her white eyes focused on the still form of her brother, “I … I'm so sorry...”

Before either of them had a chance to do anything else, Haruka collapsed on the ground.
[/hider]