Despair.

Powerful catalyst

With deadly results.

For a moment

He felt suffocated

Denied of breath

Staring in disbelief.

Alas, it was reality.

Panic

Like water

Rapidly filed in

Threatening to drown him.

Mind over matter.

It would do no good

To stall any further.

Snapping out

From a lethal daze

He came to his senses

Desperately

Searching.

Seizing the nearest object

On a desk

Masking tape

Crude

But better

Than nothing.

Damned.

Cursing his predicament

He inwardly grimaced

Sweating profusely

Gasping for air.

Carefully

Avoiding

The grisly scarlet liquid

Reach for her arm

Pressing his fingers

With a strip

Mask over

Painful

Incision.

Any second now

He might faint

From exhaustion

And stress.

Her crisp white blouse

Stained

Smeared

Drops and lines

Crimson.

Even her cheeks

A faint trace

Of red

Mixed

Tears.

Blonde hair

Drooped down

Cascading

Veiling her face

In a curtain of silk.

Keep the arms up.

Weakly

He lifted her body

Her arms

Draped over his shoulders

Propping her

On the rugged carpet

Cushion of pillows

Her face

Ever so beautiful

Sleeping.

Her hands

Seemed

Cold

Yet

Tears

Still wet

Lips

But

Now

Not the time.

The bleeding

Certainly stopped

Yet it was a gruelling affair

It was a bloody business

Literally.

He stumbled backward.

Aghast

Eyeing the sight

Before him

The blonde woman

Lay

On a pile of pillows

Sleeping.

She was sleeping.

A daring assumption.

One that he hoped true.

He was drenched

Cold sweat

Fatigue

Yet

Prominent state of mind

Situation normal

All fucked up.

Frustration

Stress

Saturate

Fear and panic.

Poking a finger

Against her neck

Warmth

Pulse.

Not yet.

Moment of relief

Deep breath

Much needed

Cooldown.

It had never occurred to him

What can drive a person

Into destroying

Themselves.

The answer seemed obvious

But it was inconclusive

Illogical

Severely

Counter-productive.

He stood up

Gazing at the scene

A morbid caricature

Having read literature

This was a method

Depiction

Of desperation.

Restrict himself

Screaming does no good

Nor will crying.

There is a mess to clean up.

Literally, figuratively.

His mind

A fierce warzone

Chaos and confusion

At a moment

Too much.

Scanning his hands

Visible contamination

Of the dreadful fluid.

Such a horrible predicament.

Proverbial saying

Holding true

But it cannot be!

Her blood on his hands.

Whose fault was it?

Now is not the time

To delegate

Responsibility.

Even now

His rotten cynicism

Knew no bounds.

On the other hand

It offered him

Mental fortitude

Times like these

Knee-deep

In hell.

Downstairs

Scrummaging

Rags and towels

A pail of water

Bottle of alcohol

Equipment

For a disturbing task.

Cleaning up after a crime.

Quite unbelievable

Certainly

Horrid

Perhaps it was a wrong analogy

But the point gets through.

Never had he anticipated

Possibility of such

Event.

Yet hindsight

Always clear

The picture

Certainly formed

A shattered portrait

Of a broken girl.

Another flashback

Dreadful.

He cannot fix her.

For He was broken too.

Is He?

Perhaps

Once

He was indeed

Destroyed.

But at that moment

Never again.

How can you kill

Something

That is already

Dead?

Unkillable.

Perhaps that

Is his

The flaw

Of Hikigaya Hachiman.

Killed heart

Resurrection

Dead

But

Undead.

That may be the reason.

Even in this moment

He could feel

No pity

No pain

No compassion.

Heartless.

Respect.

He will not pity her.

Never.