I had this on the backburner for a few days. I wanted this to be posted on Halloween, but lost the time. I found the will to work on this, and I hope it was all worth it.

The idea came from that theory that "Otonahsi is the Programmer," but I don't believe that. So this is what I think happened that happened. I believe there was a Programmer, but what happened to him is still answered. And hoping for a second season of Angel Beats! is a waste of time. (Besides, ten years have already passed). I also believe the A.I. was created for just that; watching over how much love pops up in the afterlife school.

Enjoy the story.


The screens on the computers turn on automatically, overrun by electric pulses crackling around them. The room is empty, and the darkness is dispersed by the many screens. Bright red hearts appear in the screens, alarming the lone spectator.

"It's all going wrong."

You know what you have to do.

"No. It's too soon. It's not the right time yet."

It'll never be the right time either way.

Some of the screens crackle with static, then turn back onto the red hearts. Images appeared on the screens, consisting of a schoolyard; on another, a baseball field. On another screen, there was a bird's eye view of a building rooftop. The rest of the screens only showed the red hearts.

You know it's right.

"I do, but it's still too soon. It's not time yet."

And when will it? Days from now? Years? It's taking control of the system, and it'll only destroy it unless we drive it out.

The spectator lifted one of his hands, wiping his brow. Tiredness overtook him, and he wanted so badly to surrender into deep slumber.

We have to do it.

"Why? Because it's right?"

Because it'll destroy us and this world with it.

"I am so tired. I don't want to stop, but I don't want to give up hope..."

For what? She is not coming back. You know that. Don't try to deny it. Deep down you know she isn't. She never wants to come back. Not really.

Arcs of bluish electricity crackled around the screens, in danger of exploding. It'll only speed the process until something stops it.

You created the program for just that reason.

His hands gripped the desk. The exhaustion was gripping him like a vice. He would only hurt himself more than he's letting on. He needed to get started, no matter how much denying it felt good.

"I know you're right, and I wish I could believe she will come back."

The program is ready at your command. All you have to do is press a single button.

He forced his paralyzed limbs to move. He made the walk toward the lone computer sitting in the farthest corner of the room. Of all the computers in this room, this one was smaller than the ones on the rest of the tables.

"No, I don't feel ready. I won't do it."

Why? It has to be done. You should know that it would spread and destroy us. And it'll even destroy the world of the living.

A look of shock adorned his face. He looked over his shoulder, eyes big as saucers. He seemed to believe what it was told, and even he couldn't deny it this time.

"None of my creations comes back anymore. This program is all I have left. I...I just need."

That's right. It has to be done. Just say the word, and it'll be carried out.

He stood before the computer, gathering his thoughts. His fingers ready to press the keys. Fear stopped him, and he merely stared at the computer, mentally kicking himself. His mind ordered him to do it while the other half told him not to.

You have to do it. It's what you made the program to do.

"Surely there's another way."

You know there isn't any other way. And whatever you're thinking, it won't work. She's not coming back. She's forgotten you.

A gasp escaped his parted lips. He balled his fists, anger whirling in him like an sandstorm. His head felt ready to break.

She's not coming back. You know that. Denying it only aggravates the pain. It's better to let it disappear.

He splayed his fingers, preparing himself to type. He stared at the computer screen: black. He ran his finger on the mousepad. The screen lit up white, now all he needed to do was enter the code.

If someone told you they can take the pain away, would you let them?

A pause.

"I... I suppose."

There you have it. Make the pain go away. You've been hurting since the day she left. Her promise. It wasn't a promise for love, it was to leave you hanging. She didn't mean what she said. She didn't love you. If she did love you, she would've asked you come with her. That would be better than waiting for countless eons.

The screens were filled with static. The ones with the red hearts were replaced with static. A siren blared in the room, making it more unbearable for the spectator.

You're only prolonging the suffering. It isn't fair to you, it isn't fair to the inhabitants in this world. It's for the best. We don't need to have it override what you've created.

"I know, I know. But this is all..."

I know it's too much. But soon it'll all be over. You wanted to create a program that would wipe away love on the premises. And it's taking over, it has to be done.

He groaned. The exhaustion was tiring him out more than he already was. He wanted it to be done. He wished it didn't have to be him to do this.

It didn't have to him, right? He didn't have to be the one at all. Wouldn't it be better to let someone else do it? And he was so tired of it all. Tired of waiting. Tired of the false hope. Tired of everything, and tired of everyone in it. He just wanted it to stop.

"You're right." His fingers hovered above the keyboard. "You're right. I know what to now."

Good. Very good.

"This is what I have to do."

Of course. Of course. Do what you must.

"I don't care that it's not right to force this on the rest to the world. But...everything else is forced anyways. Disasters happen, and humanity is forced to flee or die. Chaos and order even has its rules. Whether it's used in quantities or excess, it causes destruction. This is why the rules were created. To keep things in line. Machines do what they're told because that's how they're built. Humans don't know any better. This has to end."

His fingers diligently type on the computer. Codes are entered, and very soon, all of this will be over.

"I can't watch over this. It'd be better if somebody else did all this work for me."

Yes, of course. Someone who would do a better job. Not that you're not doing a good job of it, you have done great wonders. I'm just thinking you need assistance, that's all.

"Assistance. Right, of course! That's what I need. Why didn't I see it sooner?"

You've been worked up with keeping up with this program. I will gratefully accept the task put upon me.

"Yes, yes, it all makes sense."

His finger pressed the "Enter" button. The code was transferred into the system. All of the mayhem going on out there will be stamped out completely.

"I don't want to do this anymore. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of waiting. It would be so much better to not remember anything."

Yes, of course. You were a slave to it and you had to give and give just to sate their unquenchable desire. Why continue on the path you chose? You could choose otherwise.

"Otherwise..."

The screens turn to static, and then filled with black. Whiteness appears, signaling the code had worked. The rest would snuff out whatever was left.

"I no longer want to be here waiting. I have realized that now. She was a dream I was chasing, and I don't want to dream anymore. I just want to forget."

I completely agree. You don't deserve this anymore than a blind man can blind himself after being given the gift of sight. Anymore than someone can be unborn.

"I..."

Just give the word, and I'll do the rest.

"I want you to take over the work I have done. Watch over it for me. And make sure that love does not flood this world, and if it does, destroy it."

As you wish. I'll see to it that your orders are carried out.

"I have done this long enough. I know you'll do a good job here. My time spent waiting will be soon over."

He stepped away from the computer and turned away, facing the wall. He looked over and said, "I'm trusting you to look after this world."

You can count on me to carry out your work.

"Good. I am tired of this world, tired of the waiting. It would be so much better to forget and pretend you never existed."

Wise choice.

Every screen in the room turns on, revealing white screens. Then they show images of the schoolyard, the baseball field, the rooftop. There are new images, such as a bridge, a building complex, and a river surrounded by forestry.

A blade was unearthed from his pocket, and pointed at himself. It sliced his throat, blood streaming in torrents. Indiscernible croaks escaped his mouth as more blood poured out, forcing the spectator to fall to the floor. His hands were slammed on the floor, the pain that was once burning and unbearable, was now dull and distant. Numb. His vision hazed and he was having a hard time hearing. He stared vacantly into space. The last breath left him. Dead.

Nobody really belongs to themselves. Everyone is a belonging to someone. We are all playthings of the gods, and even I know that. But I'm not like you. I knew you wouldn't be able to handle it.

You'll see, I'll show you that I will be your better. It is precisely why I was created. You were merely in the way. Your time here was up.


For those of you wondering, I wrote the story in the form where the speaker does not appear physically. It's how I had it planned. I know it's not my best work, but it was all I could muster at short notice.

P.S. This fic is not part of the ones I wrote in the past. Just thought I'd let you know.

It's surprising to see that I haven't written an Angel Beats! fanfiction in a year, not that I'm counting.