Hello again.
If you've gotten this far, then I am dead.
Most likely, anyway. You already know that I'm a private man, and I know you're only reading this if you're one of the few people that can claim to truly know me, because the only other people who would put the effort into finding my scribblings would be too busy incinerating them to take the time to read them, unlike you.
So I'll keep this brief.
I've been lying to the three of you.
This should be no surprise. All of us are liars, because this line of work suits liars, but me more so than any of you. I am a professional liar, indeed, but I am also just naturally accustomed to doing so.
Even if I hate doing so.
I hate liars, and I hate lying. You're probably wondering why I ended up where I am, or rather was, then, and that's because it's easier to lie than it is to tell the truth. Even to you, whoever is reading this. I don't know if I've been able to call you my friend in a long time, or if you've been able to do the same, but you of all people deserve to know.
Because I care, even when it's hard to.
And that's why I don't regret any of it. Not a single bit. Not now.
There's no point in lying to you anymore. If you've gotten this far, then it's too late to be lying.
I started this diary around when all of us first met, in one way or another. That seemed like as good a place to begin as any. Maybe it was an explanation. Maybe it was an excuse. Maybe it was a way to keep myself from losing my mind. Maybe it was me telling the truth, to the one person I could tell it to: myself.
You have your own truth, but not mine. I know you'll read it. We were friends, once upon a time, and that is why.
Use it wisely. I know that you'll do what's right. I wouldn't have stuck around if I doubted that.
I won't say sorry, because I know that it won't mean anything, but for what it's worth, I really am.
-Tatsuo