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« you are dead. » ( self-indulgent writing prompt )
As the crowd of people that circled Kazuto Kirigaya — Kirito — stared him down, looking for answers to the one question: who killed their precious, little classmate. It was almost as if they knew exactly who did it. It wasn't the look that was on his own face that was the tell tale signs of him being the culprit. No, he had worn a poker face the whole entire time the trial had occurred and had even contributed to it.
So when their eyes were on him, eyes of disbelief, of terror, giving him that look, he just couldn't stand it anymore.
The mask he wore as «The Black Swordsman» was about to crumble in front of all of them; these eighteen other people, strangers to him, were staring at him with cold eyes. He could practically feel their intense stares piercing him, and he couldn't hold it back any longer. He would give the crowd exactly what they wanted.
He alone was the only person who knew the truth. He alone was the one who knew that this was all his fault, that this was an accident, and yet. . .
"Heh." A laugh that could only belong to a villain left his lips as they curled into a cocky grin. If they wanted to know who the culprit was, they could only look towards the young raven haired boy all clad in black, one hand on his hip. Although he knew that in different circumstances, he would have crawled into a hole, running away from it all, he couldn't do that now. Not when there were eighteen others who were still alive. If they all died because of him, if they all died because of what he did, he could never forgive himself. And he wasn't sure that Asuna would forgive him, either. Throwing his hands up in surrender - although he still wore that same, overconfident grin, he spoke up, as if none of this was a big dea.
"You caught me. I'm the player who PK'd that girl. What was her name again...?" He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly before continuing. "Well, that doesn't matter, now does it? I'll admit to it. I killed her with these very two hands." It hurt him to say those words, but what those people there needed right now was not a hero. He could no longer be the hero after what he had done, even by accident. This wasn't the first time he had killed someone, either.
Three people.
While he was in SAO, he had killed three people, not including Kabaya Akihiko - Heathcliff. Once to protect the woman he loved, his girlfriend, his lover, his wife, Asuna. And the other two to protect himself and the others. Those three were from the same murder guild in that world after all, the Laughing Coffin.
Sometimes when his mind reeled back to those moments, he could feel his stomach twisting uncomfortably. Especially now that he was acting like one of them. The reason why he was acting this way was to protect the others. If they saw him as a nice person, then their rage would shift away from him and towards their captor. Of course, the anger that would be imbued onto that person, the mastermind behind all of this, was righteous. It was something that felt right, and he wouldn't stop them from being mad at that person. He was angry, too.
But now, in this trial room, he didn't feel angry at all. He felt. . . empty.
Like this was what he deserved to begin with. After Asuna had jumped in front of him to save him from dying, he didn't know what he could do. Even if he cleared the game, he had no reason to live. Was this his punishment for all those people that died in front of his eyes? The only way he could atone for his sins?
The smile that he wore as he faced everyone didn't fade; instead, it softened somewhat as he looked directly at every single one of them, his nerves made of steel, the mask he wore never falling off his determined face. He was expecting them to yell at him, to be infuriated with him. He was no longer a «Beater». All he was now was a red player, a murderer. Chuckling again, his gaze rose towards the sky as he mouthed words that would never reach.
He would be the scapegoat for everyone to see. That way, he would stop all the future murders with his own death and he'd be able to see Asuna soon. Besides, it was better this way. If they didn't care about what happened to him, regardless of the fact that it was an accident, then they wouldn't have to mourn over his death.
This way was better.
After all, Kirito was a solo player. He would live alone and die alone, in the end.
But it was alright, because he believed in the eighteen other people who resided in this farce of a courtroom. He believed that they wouldn't make the same mistake, that they wouldn't die. That they would escape out of this alive.
Escape out of this hellish death game.
Facing the others seriously, he taunted them with a single question. "So, are you going to vote for me to get executed or what?" It was only right for them to vote for him, after all. He was no longer a green player, after all.
The color of his icon, if he were truly playing an MMO would be a bright, crimson red, just like the blood of the people that were on his hands.
So when their eyes were on him, eyes of disbelief, of terror, giving him that look, he just couldn't stand it anymore.
The mask he wore as «The Black Swordsman» was about to crumble in front of all of them; these eighteen other people, strangers to him, were staring at him with cold eyes. He could practically feel their intense stares piercing him, and he couldn't hold it back any longer. He would give the crowd exactly what they wanted.
He alone was the only person who knew the truth. He alone was the one who knew that this was all his fault, that this was an accident, and yet. . .
"Heh." A laugh that could only belong to a villain left his lips as they curled into a cocky grin. If they wanted to know who the culprit was, they could only look towards the young raven haired boy all clad in black, one hand on his hip. Although he knew that in different circumstances, he would have crawled into a hole, running away from it all, he couldn't do that now. Not when there were eighteen others who were still alive. If they all died because of him, if they all died because of what he did, he could never forgive himself. And he wasn't sure that Asuna would forgive him, either. Throwing his hands up in surrender - although he still wore that same, overconfident grin, he spoke up, as if none of this was a big dea.
"You caught me. I'm the player who PK'd that girl. What was her name again...?" He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly before continuing. "Well, that doesn't matter, now does it? I'll admit to it. I killed her with these very two hands." It hurt him to say those words, but what those people there needed right now was not a hero. He could no longer be the hero after what he had done, even by accident. This wasn't the first time he had killed someone, either.
Three people.
While he was in SAO, he had killed three people, not including Kabaya Akihiko - Heathcliff. Once to protect the woman he loved, his girlfriend, his lover, his wife, Asuna. And the other two to protect himself and the others. Those three were from the same murder guild in that world after all, the Laughing Coffin.
Sometimes when his mind reeled back to those moments, he could feel his stomach twisting uncomfortably. Especially now that he was acting like one of them. The reason why he was acting this way was to protect the others. If they saw him as a nice person, then their rage would shift away from him and towards their captor. Of course, the anger that would be imbued onto that person, the mastermind behind all of this, was righteous. It was something that felt right, and he wouldn't stop them from being mad at that person. He was angry, too.
But now, in this trial room, he didn't feel angry at all. He felt. . . empty.
Like this was what he deserved to begin with. After Asuna had jumped in front of him to save him from dying, he didn't know what he could do. Even if he cleared the game, he had no reason to live. Was this his punishment for all those people that died in front of his eyes? The only way he could atone for his sins?
The smile that he wore as he faced everyone didn't fade; instead, it softened somewhat as he looked directly at every single one of them, his nerves made of steel, the mask he wore never falling off his determined face. He was expecting them to yell at him, to be infuriated with him. He was no longer a «Beater». All he was now was a red player, a murderer. Chuckling again, his gaze rose towards the sky as he mouthed words that would never reach.
- I'm sorry, Asuna. I'll be coming to meet with you soon.
He would be the scapegoat for everyone to see. That way, he would stop all the future murders with his own death and he'd be able to see Asuna soon. Besides, it was better this way. If they didn't care about what happened to him, regardless of the fact that it was an accident, then they wouldn't have to mourn over his death.
This way was better.
After all, Kirito was a solo player. He would live alone and die alone, in the end.
But it was alright, because he believed in the eighteen other people who resided in this farce of a courtroom. He believed that they wouldn't make the same mistake, that they wouldn't die. That they would escape out of this alive.
Escape out of this hellish death game.
Facing the others seriously, he taunted them with a single question. "So, are you going to vote for me to get executed or what?" It was only right for them to vote for him, after all. He was no longer a green player, after all.
The color of his icon, if he were truly playing an MMO would be a bright, crimson red, just like the blood of the people that were on his hands.