Cold pinched Saionji Sekai's nose, turning it even redder then before. Snowflakes slowly drifted down from the soft blue sky as she progressed down the street. It was a Monday morning, and the street was filled with weary businessmen. Each of them slowly trudged through the snow, briefcases clasped in glove-less hands. Sekai felt sorry for them.
She was bundled up in a ridiculous number of clothing; a thick thermal vest underneath a normal, green top, over that a thermal jumper, over that a thick, black woolen coat. Topped off with scarf, gloves, hat and earmuffs.
During her trudging, Sekai slid her hand into her coat to take out a sleek, long, white bag. It looked as though it could have come from a jeweler's or it could hold a bottle of wine. She continued walking.
The black iron gates of the park were frosted over and the paint was cracked from the cold. Sekai's soft brown shoes crunched on the frozen grass. A park bench came into view in front of her. She smiled.
As she sat down on it, she took in her surroundings. She was at the park where her and Katsura first talked about Makoto, and set her life on the tracks she now regretted. It had been five years since her and Makoto witnessed Katsura's death. Relief swept through her as she could not find the fateful swing. As she was reminiscing, a man in a tattered blue suit came around the corner, hands in pockets. His black hair flapped carelessly in the icy breeze.
'Makoto!' Sekai smiled, standing up again, leaving the white bag on the bench.
'Morning.' Makoto's mouth was in a state of half-smile, half-frown. 'I trust you weren't waiting long?' He asked, voice barely over a whisper.
'No, I just got here.' They both sat down, and Sekai placed the white bag on her lap. For a while none of them coud think of anything to say, so they sat in silence.
'Seriously,' He hastily whispered in her ear, spraying saliva all over her face and breaking the silence. 'What the fuck is the deal? We are done, okay?' Sekai paused for a moment, shaking off the hate then resumed the happy-girl facade.
'Makoto,' there's no reason to fret.' She smiled, rising. 'I just brought you a gift,' holding up the long, white bag.
His face softened at this suggestion. He stood also, brushing down his suit. His eyes sparkled like a dog receiving a treat. Such a shame. A shame she couldn't forget what he put her through.
'Makoto,' A crumple sound came from the bag, and then the shiny silver revolver. 'Please die.'