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the expiry of a spaceman and the lamentation of a beau

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     Kaito did not need the consistent beeps in his headset nor the dull, flashing, red warning on the monitor to know he was dying.
     It was hard to breathe as if someone were crushing his windpipe. Orbital 7 had shut down, and his body had gone numb from the unbearable cold. The only thing he could barely feel was the rock of the moon on his back.
     Oh...oh. And Mizael's firm hands on his own were a fire that surged from a dragon's mouth. Suitable, really.
     Kaito would not be able to see clearly, even if the monitor were not cracked or cloudy from icy, strained breaths. Mizael, but Mizael, he was like a star that shined brighter than the greatest of stars -
only from afar.
     Hazy eyes wandered towards the light that shimmered gently beyond the barrier of the screen. Kaito still felt the warmth of Mizael, but faintly.
Maybe it would not be so bad to see a familiar face one last time.
     He felt unafraid, knowing that the darkness at the edge of his being would claim him soon. For now, for now...he focused on the ever so slowly fading blur of Mizael.
     A sob that could have not possibly been his own, for he was far too weak, shook his body and a foreign pressure weighed on his chest. Mizael's head? Hands?
     Oh. Did it matter? Kaito's breathing was raspy and slow.
     A muffled cry drowned out the incessant beeps from the headset. "Kaito!"
     He wanted to say something back. Something inspirational to remember him by, he parted his chapped lips -
    Oh.
He drew his last, quivering breath.
And Kaito was no longer.