I guess we can't help but be who we are.

I never liked that idea, it was too much like fate – that we were destined to be something or that we were born a certain way. The whole idea undermined the notion of choice – that, ultimately, we could be anyone or anything we wanted, as long as we worked for it. There are certain exceptions, of course, like someone with no legs wanting to be the fastest person on the planet. There are restrictions we have to abide by, but for the most part, I liked the idea of going against my own nature, that I could truly become anyone I wanted.

The reason I wanted life to be this way is because I am a failure.

If there were a tag that was wrapped around my ankle when I was born, it would read: Hiroki Sugimura – FAILURE. That is my nature, it is what I am, way down at the core of my being. It used to depress me, when I was little. Below average grades, sub-par athletic abilities. I didn't even have any social grace – I was always too shy to make friends, and I was picked on…a lot. Sometimes I wonder why Takako and I became friends – if it was only because she could boss me around or…

It was a downward spiral for me – a harsh word here, an insult there, would just drive me into the dirt, and I became too sensitive – anything after that, no matter how small the slight, would just bury me further and further. And the whole time, I would tell myself that all this was my fault. That if I wasn't such a failure that I wouldn't feel this bad, wouldn't be this much of a loser.

I thought about killing myself once. I found my dad's gun and I sat in our basement for a couple hours, just fumbling with the firearm in my hands, trying to build up the courage to point the gun at my head and pull the trigger. I kept picturing my parents walking down the basement stairs and seeing my corpse before stepping over my body to grab some canned goods and heading back upstairs. But almost as much as I'm a failure, I'm a coward. I was scared, terrified, of the whole thing, and at the end of that time alone in the basement, I couldn't find it in me to pull the trigger. And what made me feel even worse, wasn't that I didn't want to die, but that I was too weak to even take control of my life. I had failed at failing.

But that is why I was so proud of myself for pulling the trigger out here, at Kiriyama. It was the culmination of all my hard work. In a way, it was me pointing the gun at myself and executing my true nature, my belief that I was nothing more than a failure. I had trained hard, had worked hard, gotten stronger, made friends…and I told myself that I didn't have to be a failure if I didn't want to be! That I could fight my nature, my fate, my destiny, and that I could make choices that would make me happy.

But sitting here, looking at the girl I loved, or rather, the dead body that had once been that girl, I realize that I was wrong. All that effort, the martial arts, the discipline, my master, Takako, Shuuya, Shinji, Kayoko…they are all delusions. I thought I had chosen them, that I was moving away from myself, that I could be worthwhile and special. But I see now, now that they're all dead or dying, that I was deluding myself, delaying my inevitable failure. I believed I could protect them – I believed I could save them! But in the end, I'm too weak to save them, or even myself.

I am a failure.

Blood oozes from the bullet hole in Kayoko's temple, but her pretty face is untouched otherwise. There's a soft smile on her face, although I can't understand it. What was it that kept her by my side, even when I told her to run away? What did she see in my face at her last moments alive that made her smile? These are the questions that are most important now – questions whose answers are forever lost to me.

I glance up at Kiriyama. I hate him, and not just because he's killed Kayoko and about to do the same to me. I hate him because he has reminded me of my destiny, my essence as a failure. He has beaten me, through and through, and I feel like I'm back in my basement, trying to decide whether I'm worth keeping myself alive or not. But the gun isn't in my hands anymore, it's in his. Kiriyama won't miss, won't hesitate. I know I should be afraid, but I'm not. Because my life isn't in my hands any longer – I don't have to worry about being a coward or a failure anymore – Kiriyama will decide my fate for me.

I take a long, deep sigh.

No…more…fear…

The gun erupts, and I feel a pressure burrowing itself inside my brain. My body topples to the side, the world spinning and falling with me. Her face is only a few inches away, and with some self-satisfaction I realize Kayoko's face will be the last thing I see. I want to apologize, to ask her forgiveness for, ultimately, being what I am. But this wasn't ever really about me. Not completely. It was about trying to be good enough for someone like her – someone whose core, whose destiny, whose whole being was made up of kindness…and beauty…

My vision slowly fades to black. My last words echo into the oblivion.

All for her…