Work Text:
—All done. Incision sealed shut, antibiotics applied, Lee finally puts aside his surgical instruments and ticks off the bright lights. The subject he's been working on for hours is returned back where it was. Behind the curtains where all the others lay.
For such a spacious room, the air is near stifling. Lee pulls the windows wide open, letting the crisp breeze brush back his bangs and tickle his skin, not at all unpleasant.
Beneath him, unassuming bypassers and vehicles stroll on with their daily lives. On different circumstances, he would be amongst that crowd. Time flows freely without him in the picture. Knowing Asunaro, not a single soul down there will notice his disappearance.
The protection order ends tonight, and Lee has no delusions that the guards in front of the lab won't turn their guns at him once the timer ticks zero. He sighs, looking up to the rosy clouds drifting above. There's no place higher than this building, and he stands on the highest floor– the closest he'll ever be to the sky.
The sunset is beautiful nevertheless, and he wistfully glances up one last time before pulling down the curtains. Within the day, most definitely. With the day quickly approaching to an end, it may be within the hour, even. He's been awfully rattled up in the last few days, but now he's somewhat come to a peace.
Lee's gaze travels to the subjects on the other side. Each unique in design, yet no better than created doubles by his own hand; and really, can he say he's different? All dolled-up and domesticated, he's gone from a clueless, naive student to someone who dissects people without much thought. And today, he'll join the same line of bodies.
There's nothing much he can do at this point, so Lee absentmindedly gets up to clean up his working table. All important evidence he's disposed of a while ago, and he organizes the last of his belongings neatly until it somewhat resembles a normal office.
He's not quite done yet, but he places down the book in his hands when a pair of light footsteps ring in the hallways, tap, tap, tap . There are a set few who dare to visit this floor, and Lee braces himself as the door behind him swings open.
Hiyori smiles at him and waves innocently. His lackeys are lined behind him, not even trying to hide their 'equipment'. Lee doesn't bother to react. Their eyes meet, and a moment of silence stretches between the distance.
The shadows in the room grow longer with the falling sun, patterning the lab's floors like a chessboard, and he and Hiyori glow the same shade of color. It didn't matter how willing, how high up the hierarchy the man is in. They were both going down by the same hand.
Still, he intends to play his part until the end. A dance and a step, and Hiyori hops closer to him. Lee tugs his mask up.
Seemingly not bothered by his parting behavior, Hiyori's smile remains bright as ever. "Time's up, cinnamon." he says gleefully, as if he's waited for this moment for so long. Lee can't say he hasn't as well.
Lee lets out a chuckle. "What, so you won't even give me time to prepare myself?"
"Ah, but you've already done your job so splendidly! Say, Lee, might you have some time to spare?"
He already knows what comes out of Hiyori's mouth next. A last grimace traces Lee's lips before falling to a familiar trance. His surroundings drift apart, and he drowns, sinking deeper to an endless surface... Yet another curse Asunaro has installed in him, and he has to wonder: Is this what it means to die?
While his demise is nowhere immediate, he knows too well of what awaits him. With all advantages stripped away, there is no place for him to stand alone on a tilted stage.
Taunting laughter, something sharp piercing his veins. Whatever injected in him has his vision blur and spin. Sodium thiopental? Of course.
Truth be told, being the sole winner wouldn't be as appealing if not for a guarantee of survival; he has no intention of being the heir to a despicable organization. It's about creating anomalies, poking needles in Asunaro's picture-perfect plan, in hopes it'll eventually tear itself apart.
His knees buckle under him, and he's carried to his own operating table. Orders barked left and right, an inhaler shoved to the face.
Regardless, he's still afraid. Afraid of the uncertain. Lee squeezes his eyes shut, feeling his heartbeat slam itself again and again in his chest.
Then, he sees it— he's heard it before, one's life flashing in front of their eyes before death. His beloved puppy from when he was younger, the voice of his parents. That kid who risked so much to remember him, Maple who fought to the death for his safety. A sense of calm rushes through. He'll always have something to live for. No matter what his name is, he'll stay as the same guy from all those years ago.
Lee takes a sharp breath, one last time before fading out– and thinks, it's okay, because he's freer than ever.