(A/N: This is a one-shot fic about Keitaro Facing his own mortality. No bashing or hating on my work, please. I own nothing but the OC.)
After months of vicious abuse on his body at the hands of Naru and Motoko, Keitaro's healing factor had finally burned out. No more was the indestructible manager of the female dorm. What stood at the top of the clock tower was a broken man, marred with various scars covering most of his torso, biceps, and legs. Looking downwards, he began to wonder if anyone actually cared, or if anyone would actually miss him if he jumped and died.
"You know," a voice started behind him, startling the already PTSD-ridden manager, "If you're tired of pain, you can always seek help. There are those who are willing to listen and understand you if you give them the chance." The voice that carried an Irish accent held concern but felt restrained. "I lost my brother through suicide. He shot himself in the head after his wife was leaving him. I was heavily affected by this, and so were my sisters..."
Keitaro turned around and noticed the young man that stood before him. Pale skin, dark brown hair with neon blue highlights, black-framed glasses, a small scar on his left eyebrow.
The young man looked British and wore black jeans, black trainers, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a black tie around his neck, and a black waistcoat. The trench coat billowing behind him as he stepped towards Keitaro made Keitaro uneasy but felt no bad intent coming from him.
"If you want to change your life, you gotta change yourself first, my friend. That's always the first step. Leave the pain behind and walk a new path." The British young man spoke as though he was experienced, and managed to reach Keitaro's mind. Keitaro looked at him before looking to himself. The mysterious stranger kept his hazel eyes on Keitaro to make sure he wouldn't jump.
"I'm pathetic," Keitaro spoke sadly, small tears trailing down his cheeks. "I try so hard to make the girl I love see my feelings but I get attacked by her when trying to get my point across..."
The young man was silent for a few moments before he clicked his lighter and lit a cigarette. He smoked it slowly, taking in its rich flavour before addressing Keitaro again. "If she's abusing you, it ain't love. She's usin' ya, my friend. Get the fuck out of that shit and pull your life together! You have so much potential, but you waste it on an unrequited, abusive love. I almost pity you." His voice trailed with venom for the woman Keitaro spoke of, and Keitaro knew it.
The man grabbed Keitaro by the arm, pulling him from the ledge. "If you're wanting an out, don't waste your life. I'm sure someone out there loves you. Stay strong my friend." The young man hugged Keitaro quickly before disappearing.
It was this night that changed Keitaro Urashima's perspective on life.