Disclaimer: I do not own OreGaIru.

The spring breeze was something I'd come to associate with a feeling of discomfort—probably to the allusion that the winds of this season brought change and new opportunities, which were things I've never been quick to accept. Just as I had always been set in my twisted, self-deprecating ways, so too was I in my views of youth, and of the springtime of it.

Then again, it had taken some extraordinary people to finally give me that push needed to break from my shell and take the obstacles of my life head on. The Service Club was home not just to clubmates and acquaintances, and it had always been more than that. I had just refused that fact and was fearful of the consequences that would come should I have accepted those bonds and they just broke from the slightest of strains.

Though, really, the ones to thank for the changes I decided to take on were always Yui, Yukino, and Shizuka-sensei.

Twice I'd nearly given up, only to be brought back from the clutches of my inner demons. Contrary to my self-destructive beliefs, they believed whole-heartedly in the me who sought the genuine, who wanted to go beyond what words could describe a bond between people. Distance may have separated us, as was with the flow of time and the growth of pubescents into young adults, but not once did they even forget about me.

And that, to me, was just enough.

"You know," the words come out of my lips with a bitterness I just couldn't hope to ever swallow, "it sucks that our time together has been cut so short."

My companion smiled, albeit one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It might feel that way, kiddo, but trust me: it was just right. C'mon, look at them."

He gestured towards the three of them, my former clubmates and teacher, and I couldn't help the twitching of my lips as I saw them enjoying a good laugh from their conversation and reminiscing.

"... True enough. I guess, if it all boils down to them still being happy like this, it's all worth it, right?"

He nodded. "But of course. It's sad they can't be with you anymore—"

"—but I'll always be with them." This time, the smile came to me much more naturally. Looks like the last of my regrets have come to an end.

If someone had told me before to use my time wisely, to relentlessly pursue all that was available to experience with my youth, I would've sneered at them disgustingly and avoided such sickeningly sweet positivity in life. But now, where I've come to terms with the same regret of not having done so? The words have never felt so true, so impossibly real that I would love nothing more to go back and slap my past self, then force him to do whatever he was able to.

"Yet here we are, kiddo. The end of the line. Time waits for no man." He checked his watch just as he said so, and turned to me, still with that kindly smile. "And you, my friend, are all out of time. It's time to go."

I nodded, and looked to my feet. Slowly, they were vanishing, as if being carried away by the springtime breeze into wherever the winds travel.

"It might be rhetorical to ask this, but I do have one last question."

He chuckles. "Go on, shoot."

A breath, a beat. Only the waist up from my body remained. "Was I a good friend to them?"

I looked over to the three, and I was reminded that they were never going to be the same. There would always be that lingering void left. I knew that they had always been strong people, but some part of me would always worry.

It had been an accident with the train. I was en route back to Chiba for my birthday party thrown by my clubmates along with my family and a few other acquaintances. One moment, the car shook; the next, a horribly painful sensation lanced through my entire body and I blacked out. An accident, of all things; and just like that, I was cut-off from whatever time I had left in the world, of the time I had left to spend with the people who mattered.

It's been five years, and they still always came to visit my place in the shrine.

Just as only my torso and head remained, the answer to my inquiry (one that Yui, Yukino, and Shizuka-sensei have always told me anyway, despite the what-ifs and the doubts) came anyway as some kind of universal fact.

Despite having my eyes closed, I could imagine the ever-present smile accompany his voice, just as I knew I was now entering the end of existence and accepting the inevitability of passing on, with the satisfaction of coming to terms with my regrets:

"I'm told you were the best."

A/N:

Hello, this isn't actually Colorful Crime piloting at the moment. The real owner of the account, my best friend Gabriel, had taken his life and passed on last December 6th, 2019.

When it came to writing, Gabriel had always passed me his ideas and drafts, and I would happily edit them. He'd always write them on paper, and we'd meet up during our free days. We had almost the same tastes in literature, anime, movies, and manga, and spoke non-stop about ideas we could turn into stories. His passion (at the time of posting material in FF) was OreGaIru, and I'm sure you guys have seen his work. We both knew it wasn't the best, but it was uplifting to know that there were people who genuinely found his work to be interesting and worth following. To him, that was a big thing.

A week after the funeral, his mother had visited our house to bring a box of stuff Gabriel had left for me. His mother found a letter he had written prior to his death, and had instructed I be given what it was he had saved. That box included his old MacBook, where he spent most of his time writing and polishing ideas.

That day was what let the dam burst, and I was just a mess after. I've never had a laptop or PC of my own nor a proper smartphone, and I've always opted to write on paper. Our house also had shit access to mobile data or internet. He always told me that he'd get a job and help get me a laptop or tablet to bring my ideas to a much larger audience. I never would've thought he would keep that promise in this way.

From the things he's always posted about with his stories, Gabriel always wanted happy endings and to spread positivity. He'd been battling depression and anxiety and had kept up the uphill battle to great effort. To all of you out there doing the same, please don't be afraid to let people in. There are people who love you and appreciate you. They will fight with you.

I've only gotten to accessing the laptop this week with not much else to do this quarantine in our country. It feels so heavy to look at all the work he's written, and I'm still not over what had happened. This one-shot was dated December 4th (two days before he committed suicide), and was his last written piece. Reading it had opened up old wounds, and I found myself a mess again.

I'm still coming to terms with some things for these past few months, but to celebrate the memory of him, I chose to post his last work. Once I'm feeling up to it, I'll be publishing and continuing stories he's written and reference his notes. For those that have no notations or specific ideas in mind, I'll do my best to write them up to how Gabriel would want me to. It might take some time, since moving through his things still tear me up, but it would be my way of honoring the memory of him.

Thank you very much for being supportive of his work, and having given him motivation and instruction to have produced his stories. I'll see you guys around.