Title: What Color is Death?
Rating: M (for nature of fic) Character Death
Genre: Thriller?
Pairings: Jinki-centric
Disclaimer: I don’t own Jinki.
A/N: Um, hi! Long time no story. I had a difficult time with the keyword “sunset” and didn’t want to write a cliché drabble about watching a sunset…not that cliché is bad or anything…I wanted myself to challenge to think outside the box and write something I don’t expect to.

Jinki never imagine he would die this way, in front of an electrical fire enjoying the warmth that would eventually consume him. Yes, it would have been much easier to run away in frantic desperation than to calmly surrender, but sooner or later, he would have nowhere to go; which was why he sitting in his sweat soaked lawn chair. He approaches the deathtrap as if it is a bright sunset. Beautiful. Captivating. Peaceful. He ignores the pleas to escape in favor of memorizing the colors: the brilliant yellow base blending into dusty orange which becomes a deep purple the closer the fire reaches the smoky sky.  

Jinki predicts he doesn’t have much time left because he is beginning to wheeze. No one is safe. He knows because he has the excellent vantage point of living on a crest of a steep hill watching the city in a blaze and total chaos. He had seen how the buildings collapsed well before the unfortunate residents fled. He remains in the same place now watching the fire the bottom of the hill. That is when he realizes the car repair shop is just a few feet away from the fire containing…he doesn’t have time to think of the rest because he is already crouching low covering his face with his arms preparing for the inevitable blow. The force from the explosion knocks him over his side. Once again, he shields his face from the oncoming glass shards ripping into his skin. A second, smaller explosion towards his far right goes off and leaves his ears ringing and brain disoriented.

“This is it,” he thinks. A few seconds later, the fumes assault his airways causing him to gulp the air, but soon, he coughs and retches the toxins out his system. He shuts his eyes and feels rather than sees the fire getting closer.

Jinki sees colors instead. He focuses the exciting array of movement and follows the afterimage of the fire burned in his eyelids. Purple, Green, Blue. The combination swirls into fractals, expanding and contracting, bursting into colors he’s never seen before. The colors become solid once more. And for the last time, he sees a flash of yellow, bloody orange, blinding white, then black.