"Just go away!"
She flinched, but that was long ago. She can't bring any emotions to her face after hearing all those words; at least not anymore. It still hurts, but she can no longer feel the necessity to show it even through the slight jump of her shoulder.
But what she hears next is a sharp intake of breath from the person in front of her. That, and the following apology—even she has seen this coming already—from that person. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"
"It's alright," she replies almost automatically, "I understand."
That's a lie. She doesn't understand anything anymore.
"No, I…" It sounds like she couldn't bring herself to talk properly. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, this is all my fault."
It's not her first time hearing those out from her mouth, and it's not her first time replying with the ever same answer: "It's not."
"It is," comes the retort, albeit in a calmer voice. "You know it. I always mess things up, even when people are expecting me to do well."
"No," she stresses her word this time. "You don't. I've known you for a long time, and I know that you've tried."
"I could do something else."
"You have done a lot—"
"Which turned out to be not enough," she cuts her off. "It wasn't enough. I should have done better."
She has started an argument, and it was a lie to say that she wasn't expecting it. It's bound to happen, every time, but she keeps going on anyway. "It's still not your fault—"
"Shut up!" And the table separating the two of them is slammed down. "Just what are you trying to say, Miku?! Telling me that I should get over with it? How am I supposed to get over with it? He's gone, Miku. He's gone!"
"But I don't see how it's your fault!" she finally yells in return. "It's not your fault, Rin. You've done nothing wrong!"
"I've always known it; that's why it's all my fault!" Her voice breaks as tears begin to stream down her face. "I've always known it, Miku. I've always known that he was trying to keep something from us. From everyone. I know, but I never did anything about it!"
"But he said nothing; didn't you say that before?!" she snaps. "You can't force something out of him if he doesn't want to!"
"Oh, of course I could." Then she raises her voice again, "I could bring him to say something if I tried hard enough. But it was too late when I realized it! I should have done it before, but I didn't—how is that not my fault?!"
"It's not," she wants to say, but she doesn't. It's no use. Not anymore.
She can't, anyway, as now she finds herself alone after that person stormed out from the room in a fury. She holds back her sigh as a thought crosses her mind, oh, this happens again.
It's the eighteenth time already, and the result is all the same. Nothing has changed. Nothing. That person will still think that it was her fault, no matter what. She knows it will always turn out that way. She knows she will fail at convincing her as always. Anything that she says to her will never get through, at all.
She knows—yet she keeps on trying, so desperately. Always.
She's hopelessly clinging on what is left in her life. Even if it hurts her, even if it crushes her from the inside, she'll keep trying.
she'll keep trying she'll keep trying she'll keep trying she'll keep trying she'll keep trying she'll keep trying she'll keep trying
She keeps on repeating the words in her head like a mantra, but she can't. She knows that she can't. It's no use after all. It's driving her crazy. It's scary. She has had enough of this. She wants to stop. She wants to be done. She wants to—
I guess this is it. Sure it's painful, huh, Len? And she closes her eyes. No wonder.