The doctors called it a miracle that he had survived the terrible repercussions of those godforsaken drugs and lived through being shot twice in the chest by a revolver, but frankly, he didn't care. He feels like a mess.
He was alive— according to Akihiko and Mitsuru, that was what mattered. He had survived. But at what cost was this miracle evoked? What was the point now?
His reason for being alive was gone.
Hamuko was gone.
Gone.
He was the last person to speak with her, to see her awake… the last witness of her final moments on this world.
For all its worth, he feels like a worthless piece of shit for being unable to do anything.
She was in a place where she couldn't be reached, touched, heard, seen… Hamuko had paid the ultimate price; she sacrificed herself for some world that wanted to die. She gave up her life for a dying world.
Ah, but not just any world.
A world that had her beloved friends with it.
That was reason enough to stop the entire world's demise.
Goddamn it.
She just had to be selfless, didn't she? Or no. it was her selfish desire that prevented Nyx from destroying everything.
He hated himself for the fact he wasn't there for her. That he was comatose— asleep for the entirety of the ordeals she had faced and survived. For all his worth, he just wanted to curl up into a ball and mourn. Mourn over the girl who had save him, no, everyone. No one would ever know of her sacrifice, and would dismiss her death as a tragic, inexplicable accident. Just like with Amada's mother, the truth would never be known.
The truth fucking hurts, though.
He can never be with her. He knew this from the start, but damn, her ungodly persistence won him over—
But to what end?
She was gone.
She left him nothing but a gaping hole in his heart.
…
He wanted her here.
He wanted to be with her.
He wanted to see the stupid crybaby he fell in love with— the unimaginably strong girl who gave him a reason to keep going. A reason to wake up and escape from a hospital, of all things. A girl who gave him the notion that defying fate was possible.
He was ashamed to have contemplated suicide to be with her. He's ashamed at despairing, whilst being all too aware of the monster she's keeping away fuels itself on such emotions.
He really is undeserving of her. The thought makes him smile bitterly.
Despite everything, he's not ready to say goodbye to her. Not while knowing she's out there, watching over him.
He'll never forget her.
It's a niggling feeling in the back of his mind, but he can't help but think that she's the one who bought him time. Another feeling in the back of his mind— he's not too sure whether it's Castor or not— tells him he has ten years' worth of time to make something of himself.
The same amount of time that she was bought to live a life of normalcy before leaving for good.
But what could he do?
He has nothing. He is nothing.
… He remembers that she was the same way. The difference was that she made something out of herself— in a year, no less!
He sighs. He's not her. He's no Superman— but neither was she. Was was just as human as any other person walking on the planet, maybe more.
All he knows is that she's the girl he fell in love with.
… If she could become someone worth knowing in a year, then he could take his second chance of life in this god-awful world.
He would live.
Yes, he would live. Somehow, he'd figure it out.
He'd live for the both of them.