Actions

Work Header

he left them all behind

Work Text:

It’s simple, really, Utsuro finds, when he spends his time in this hospital bed thinking about the political situation in the world, because he’s run out of visitors to keep him occupied now. Humans and birds just can’t live together in peace; many of the primates will continue to hate their avian rivals for the throne of this world, even though they only have themselves to blame for releasing that virus in the first place. It’s easier to pin the blame on others, however, and direct all your negative feelings toward someone else; this is true even for adults. Utsuro learned that early on.

Everybirdie isn’t bad, but those who aren’t rotten are vastly outnumbered by those who are. That’s just how things are; a truth of life that’s as undeniable as ever, perhaps made even clearer than it was before here in the sunlight stretching across his bed, his eyes focusing with considerable difficulty and failing to spot the dust particles in the air that must be made visible by it.

Ichijou Utsuro has nothing left now.

When he leaves the hospital, it’s with a new self in mind.

---

He lingers too long in the room where death covers everything like a thick blanket; it’s almost like he expects it to be dispelled, to hear his name spoken once more even though that is impossible and goes against all kinds of logic in this universe.

Now there really is nothing left.

Not for Doctor Isa. Not for Ichijou Utsuro. Even though Utsuro died years ago and Doctor Isa shakily rose from his remains like a weakened Phoenix rising from ashes, some part of him had miraculously stayed intact until this day, hidden somewhere deep within. The slices of Utsuro that were left behind rot rapidly, however, as he opens the door and leaves the room, unable to suppress the urge to look back. Once Utsuro vanishes once and for all, Isa is fading too, leaving behind only a crooked shadow of a person.

All there is now is a cold darkness burying itself in his heart, slimy tendrils of something awful wrapping around the vital muscle and squeezing it painfully. Even so, he feels light somehow, as if his heart was actually a balloon tied down all this time, and this final loss cut the rope binding it to his flesh and bones.

It’s a faintly sickening feeling.