"Next to you I would change color"

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The folds of the sheets were deformed when he put pressure with his fingers to hold them steady, carefully arranging each sheet so that it was in a better condition.

His concentration was such that not even the sound of the employees whispering, shocked at his condition, dared to disturb him; they believed that if they did, the work with which they did so much care would go to the side.

It was a kind of fatalism that directed him directly in unison.

Onodera arranged the paperwork for the work that Takano-san asked him in advance, and as expected, he carried out the work with the utmost care and the best attention he could have to make it presentable.

He was dressed that day in a light blue suit, a cream Calvin Klein shirt, a well-worn tie the same color as the suit, and a pair of ballistic dress shoes that matched the outfit; In addition, the day before, he cut his hair, made a slight blunt, and changed his look, so that he looked jovial and attractive.

Changes came and went, vanished in the blink of an eye, and returned with the same intensity as they disappeared.

There was never stability in his life, more than in the job of editor.

A terribly unhappy editor, but extremely dedicated and dedicated to work, like someone who did not have a developed inner life, who had no choice but to pay attention to the external goals that were guided by enslaved motivations of the life of a common worker.

Hopefully, his inner life was as developed as the outer one, because the outer one did not bring him much satisfaction in daily life, nor when he celebrated an achievement, that achievement was momentary, but life kept moving forward and yesterday he let it pass.

He let him move forward without interfering on his own.

Onodera didn't avoid feeling empty inside, but full of external contributions; not even Takano realized his inner emptiness, and swore by all the winds that he loved him.

How annoying those nefarious memories caused him.

He sighed and kept doing the job perfectly.

"Onodera." At the mention of his name, he stood up and carefully held the paperwork. He sighed and began to present the project.

The listeners were Takano-san, Yokozawa, and Hatori.

He wasn't surprised to learn that Yokozawa was against his proposal, nor was he impressed that Takano defended him and agreed to his proposal, bringing with him Hatori, who did not seem to have much choice but to accept.

At the end of the meeting between them, Takano tried to hold him back, but he refused, turning his back on him nonchalantly.

"I have things to do" He said to Takano.

"You always have things to do" Takano replied angrily. "Do you think I'm going to believe you?"

"I don't care if you don't believe me" Onodera said, grinding his teeth. "Just stop bothering me"

Takano put his hand on his shoulder, and turned him to his side; Onodera met Takano's caramel eyes, who watched him suspiciously.

"I don't have time for this" Onodera shook himself off, taking Takano's hand away.

"And when do you have time?" He inquired, stepping forward. "You've been making physical changes to yourself lately, then you say you don't love me, and then you despise me." He took another step, cornering Onodera against the wall.

Knowing himself cornered, he didn't want to give in to the panic that he felt running down his spine like a very thin thread that was about to break.

He was afraid that Takano would lay a hand on him, since he no longer felt anything for him, other than indifference.

"These changes are for someone else, right?" He put a hand on his hair and hesitated with it, moving the texture between his long fingers.

Onodera blanched with fear, trying to fight the source of his pain.

"That silence tells me yes" He stated, making his face turned into jealousy.

"Shut up" Onodera said exalted, giving him a firm push with both hands from his chest. "You tired me already!"

"I think"

"Don't talk anymore, Takano-san!" Onodera ordered, frustrated, pulling his hair out. "Your accusations, your harassment, all that tires me, stop doing it please!" He begged. "Let me live my life in peace for once!" He demanded, his voice cut off. "I don't need you in my life, you understand? The only thing you do in it is ruin it" He pointed out, his eyes clear. "You make me feel like an object that you only manipulate at your whim and condition it to behave the way you want it to behave, but I will no longer be that object you can play with, no longer!" He screamed in anger, a tear leaking from his eyes. "I'm tired of your dealings, of your manipulations, of all that you call 'love', that 'love'" He quoted with his fingers. "It's not love, it's not love, it is not! Dammit! It's not! That's not love! It's manipulation" He tugged at his hair, shaking his head. "It's not love." He gave a sore sigh. "It isn't, Takano-san, That's not what I want." Tears streamed down his pale cheeks, as Takano gaped at him; totally surprised. "I don't want that 'love' you give me," He said forcefully, running out of the boardroom, hiding his face in his hands.

"Onodera!" He heard him scream, but he was already too far to return to his side, because he would no longer do so.

He had already changed color.


He ran and ran as much as his legs allowed him, his lungs burning and pleading with him to breathe, the tears were constantly spilling from his eyes and they didn't seem to stop soon, since everything in him was worse than broken.

He had removed that pain that he felt so much in relation to Takano, stripping himself of the bonds and the vine that bound him to him by the deterioration of time.

He had broken that which forced him to return to the past.

Perhaps the way he did it was unorthodox and unreliable to discuss, but his value was not discarded as an alternative to solving things.

Now that he was free from the past, he could live in the present.

He stopped at the park where it all started, the park where he met Yukina about two weeks ago or so.

He took a deep and deep breath, recovering the color of his face, the color that he lost when cornered by Takano, who surely would be looking for him or whatever he was doing. He no longer cared what he did.

He fell exhausted on the bench, spreading his legs, dropping his head on the bench of the bench.

He let out a wide, overwhelmed sigh, heavy with courage to deal with the day to day.

He closed his eyes, slipping away from everything that bound him to society.

At least for a while for me, he said to himself, convinced that his little brief moment of joy was pulling him out of the pervasive sadness.

The moment of silence didn't last long, because a sweet voice drew him out of his trance; she realized she was coming toward him, or at least toward him.

That voice sang "I was made for loving you" by Kiss in the company of friends.

She opened her eyes by mere coincidence and there she saw it: Yukina Kou walked with a group of friends of which they were singing happily.

A blush appeared on his cheeks, and his heart reacted in relation to the presence of Yukina, who walked without any concern, wasting joy from all the pores on his face.

Onodera changed color, a different color, a special color that was seen reflected in his cheeks as his eyes fell on the figure of Yukina, and they followed his closely in the direction he was going.

"I love that song!" Yukina confessed, flagellating himself in Onodera's ears like a calming melody.

"You love everything, Yukina" His friend replied plaintively.

Yukina just laughed.

He hadn't felt a heart skip as intense as at that moment when he heard Yukina laugh.

He wasn't supposed to react like this, everything was supposed to be dark, he was supposed to… he had no doubt that he changed color just when he forced himself not to fall in love again, but it was too late, much too late to go back.

He was already seeing a person who made him change color. A person who just by setting foot on the street, the world changed color and things made sense to him. A unique and incomparable sense, an important and influential sense. A friction between them that changed and flagellated in the direction of their feelings that grew and did not stop growing, because they changed color.

A color around love.