Konoha does not remember the first time he hears the voice. It echoed quietly in his heart, whispering hushed reassurances that the two children who die for each other aren't actually dead – that he is in the middle of a lucid dream.
And Konoha does not remember the moment the voice overpowers his mind, screaming and spitting with venom as it blames Konoha, hollering how it will take everything from him.
Konoha is asleep now, floating in a sea of darkness. But every now and then his eyes will flutter open and he will see red, red, red, and the smell of copper will assault his senses.
Every time Konoha wakes, he will feel as though he has lost something important.
Only to fall back to a blissful sleep.
Kuroha places a hand on the wall, steadying himself. Kuroha does not pay the sobbing girl any mind. Kuroha only cares for the future.
His future where everyone save him is gone; a future where he does not feel the piercings of a thousand knives in his heart. Yes, this is my fate, Kuroha thinks as he spares the hunched girl a second glance. Her sobs have turned to racking hiccups.
"Why?" She whispers hoarsely.
Kuroha arches an eyebrow and grins.
It's funny how she holds her dear friends on pedestals. Kuroha believes the Medusa is naïve and shallow. She would still love them if they happened to be murderers.
"Why?" Kuroha responds, his voice echoing in the dim room. "Because the world is unfair."
Kuroha's boots are wet with blood and irremovable stains. His gun hangs loosely on his waist, swinging with his growing enthusiasm.
Kuroha counts with his fingers as he relays the fresh events.
He had pushed the young boy in front of a truck.
One.
He had shot the boy, watching his grinning face fall into a pathetic whimper.
Two.
He had stabbed the girl as she charged at him in blind anger, fists balled.
Three.
The other girl had attempted to escape, but Kuroha had shot her in the leg, watched her tumble down, and slammed his foot on her neck until itsnapped.
Four.
Then there was the other boy, who resembled XX. He had shot him too, after he dove in to protect his sister.
Five.
He remembered tightening his hold on the neck of the last boy, lifting him off the ground easily.
Six.
Kuroha stops at his seventh finger, frowning pensively.
He had picked up the fifth's phone, letting it dangle freely in mid-air as he held the keychain. There was someone in the phone. An A.I. Kuroha had gotten a good look of her face – blue hair, with equally striking blue eyes.
She did not scream or cry or hide under his gaze.
Kuroha had felt difference bubbling in his stomach. Did she not hear the bodies of her deceased companions' slump?
[And from the depths of his mind he saw a girl stare defiantly at a slip of paper and rip it into shreds, tears glistening in her eyes but she fought them back with will]
With a finger stroking the key, a tab popped out behind her.
Again, she stared at him with an unreadable expression.
DELETE?
ARE YOU SURE?
YES or YES?
"If you're going to delete me," she says strongly, eyes hardening into a steely gaze. She reeks of defiance. "Then don't look away, Haruka."
[He sees that the paper is a medical certificate, detailing the stages of a disease in its alpha stage]
He clicks the dual options with locked eyes. Her pixel legs take on a bright glow, and her body fades until it's completely transparent, and the pixels start to eat away from her legs, then her thighs and fingers, all the way to her neck and he looks away now.
"LOOK!" She screams, "LOOK AT ME HARUKA!"
He doesn't.
Seven.
"The world will take away everything you love," Kuroha says, flopping down on a sofa. He brought her to the Group's living room, reminding her of what she has lost and cannot gain back.
[He knows she's staying strong for his sake. But he wants her to forget and be happy, so he proposes the culture festival]
"I hate you," the Medusa says, her knees drawn to her chest as she rocks slowly. Her red eyes are shining crimson. "I hate you."
Kuroha watches the sunlight reflect off the stray glass cups.
[He remembers sharing one umbrella with her under a rainy sunset]
"I hate you."
"I hate you."
"I hate you."
Wisps flutter around the Medusa's person, some snapping at the air with their fangs, others nuzzling and twirling with her hair.
[He remembers her flustered expressions]
"I hate you."
The wisps are hardening, scales glistening in room lit only by the glares of a setting sun. The window is open, allowing fresh breezes to enter.
"I hate you."
The ground shakes lightly, the cups trembling to the edge until they fall and shatter into a tiny pieces.
[He remembers waking up in a hospital room, draped in a white dress. He runs out with labored breathing because there's a voice telling him he has to see her. He has to see Takane]
"I hate you," she breathes out. Her crimson eyes illuminate the whole room, their vivid splenduor giving Kuroha intense pleasure and he craves those eyes so so much. Kuroha wants to rip them out and lick them clean.
[He remembers seeing her unmoving body brought in on a stretcher and he stops. Just stops in the hallway.]
The ground stops shaking and the air stills. The brown clock propped and tilted in an odd angle is frozen, needle hovering over the number four.
[He remembers holding her cold hand in the morgue and wishing to a God that it should be him because she was so unhappy trapped in her own body that she should have at least been given a few more decades]
"Just die," Mary says softly.
[He remembers he has never told her, 'I love you']
Kuroha nods in acknowledgement. Yes, the world was cruel. Even if he were to harness the powers of the snakes, he would never be able to save Takane.
"You scum,"
Words of "I love you" are never said because a world without Takane is not a world Kuroha wants to live in.
"Just die," Mary says.
And the sky is forcibly split in two, engulfing the streets red red red.
Kuroha does not know that Takane is alive. Her body gone but her mind intact, in the form of a mischievous naïve program.
Kuroha does not know, but Konoha does.
But even today, they will continue to love her.
Because I think Kuroha is actually Haruka and HaruTaka in any shape or form is love.
Also, in commemoration of Outer Science.