He took a deep breath. He was trying to calm himself.
He thought that, maybe, he had prepared this time. It should be okay. He had faced it multiple times already.
But he was wrong. No one can be ready for such a thing. No one can be prepared for such a thing. Being constantly reminded of how close death actually is, it could almost drive him insane.
Shinjiro crushed the pills in his hand. The suppressant. The medicine. The drugs. It's mostly like drugs. You could get addicted to the momentary escape, the temporary solution.
How did it come to this?
The first time, it's merely an accident. An accident. He could've stopped it there. He could have tried. It wouldn't be a problem again if he had trusted his friends.
But he took the easy way out, and it piled. He kept trying to cover his mistake and his own memories with a blissful escape. It would be out of the way for a while, only to come back stronger and even more painful. It was harder and harder to stop until it's already too late. There was no going back now. He couldn't stop even if he wanted to.
Something he could've stopped and tamed became something truly out of control. He could not suppress it forever, he knew, but he had done that mistake. He needed to face the consequences. His repeated mistake had created a problem he could no longer fix, only hidden, only suppressed. For now.
If he had faith in his own innocence and judgment, if he had trusted his own self-control, it wouldn't have been like this. But he accepted it. He blamed himself. He didn't trust himself. It's his own damn fault and he knew that.
It was not because of that accident. His life changed the moment he accepted that drug with his own two hands.
He received the punishment he had wished for himself, but at what cost?
My life. The cost was my life.
And it was no one else's business. Shinjiro convinced himself that. People around him convinced him otherwise. No one should be tangled in his mess. His fate was sealed. He didn't want people to see him like this, a drug addict who couldn't climb out from his own grave, and a grave he had dug himself at that.
And he forgot, he forgot he wasn't alone. There were people in his life who had been there and who came in after. He couldn't completely avoid people. He wished he could, but they kept coming. It pained him to see the unrelated ones in his mess. They didn't deserve any of this.
The back alley. He found himself at the back alley again. His legs already knew where to go without him even thinking.
He forced himself to swallow the pill. He tried to stay away from those innocent people. He tried to hold on, to accept it. Every time he glanced at that area in the alley, he reminded himself that he had walked a wrong path, and the rest of his life was the result of his decision. Its effect couldn't be avoided or prevented. It could only be accepted.
Shinjiro knew that he had to take responsibility for his own action.
No matter how hard it was, or how unfair it seemed.
It was his fault.
