04/25

Evening

16 days until the Full Moon ~ 1 day until the New Moon

"Check," Makoto inconspicuously touches his ear, glancing around the sparsely populated plaza outside Paulownia. He's out of uniform, clad in a light jacket above a sweater and blue jeans, clothes that add to his anonymity and make him look somewhat laissez-faire. "Check—Sanada, Kirijo, do you read?"

"Copy," Kirijo's dulcet tones fill his ear.

"Yep, I read," Akihiko quickly replies, his voice even. "How're you?"

"Small talk?" Makoto grunts, stepping past a child running to her frazzled yet well-kempt mother, her pink backpack bouncing from the movement. The boy finds his gaze lingering on the scene longer than he wanted. "Really?"

"I'm bored!" The boxer groans. "And hungry. D'you think we got time to stop at Hagakure?"

"Negative, Akihiko." Mitsuru succinctly answers for Makoto. "Yuki is stepping into the lion's den and needs to be entirely focused. Do you have eyes on the target?"

Makoto scans the low population, searching for a familiar pierced face. There's a few older guys, some young adults and a couple on a date—along with the mother-daughter duo he spotted earlier heading to a Takoyaki shop. "Mmm," He prepares a negatory response before his eyes catch on a girl fiddling with her hair and makeup with a pocket mirror. "Bingo. Eyes on,"

"Roger," The voices in his ear both reply. One with a nearly militaristic tonality and the other with a yawn. "Time to turn on the charm, Makoto."

"Be careful," Mitsuru retorts. "We don't know if she's been compromised yet."

Compromised. Right. Makoto huffs, rolling his eyes before deciding it's now or never and strolling to the girl waiting for him. He hasn't been out with a girl since his move to Iwatodai. There were always girls and women, but Makoto never found the need to make that connection here, what with the constant rush of adrenaline he gets from the Dark Hour.

There isn't a need to chase something to feel anymore. Emotionless connections—what's the point? They're meaningless, just like everything else lately.

"Hey," He mutters, making the girl jump at his sudden arrival. He really needs to learn her name. The thought barely registers—just another detail that seems insignificant in the grand scheme of things. "Kept you waiting?"

"Uh, no!" She responds, shaking her head so rapidly the bangles hooked to her ears smack her pale cheeks. She's pretty, Makoto knows that. The black skirt with ripped fishnets and a light bomber jacket over her thin green blouse accentuate her looks, but the confidence in her stance catches his eye. She looks good out of uniform.

"This is going to sound crazy and hella late," Makoto says, using the casual and personable body language and tone he only uses when talking to women he's… courting. It's easy to pretend and wear masks—it has always been for him. "But I just realized now I've never gotten your name."

"Oh my god," Akihiko groans in his ear. "Are you kidding me? How the hell did you forget to ask for her name?!"

"Yuki…" He can hear the disappointment in Kirijo's voice.

Still, he keeps his face schooled in an easy grin and his eyebrows low as he waits for her response.

"It's so over," The boy in his ear sighs. "Ain't no way this chick's gonna stick around."

"Mmh." Mitsuru hums. "We'd better prep for plan b—"

"3… 2…" Makoto whispers under his breath, seeing the girl's face twitch slightly. Then, she breaks it with a groan.

"Oh my god!" She cries, smacking her forehead. "I can't believe I never introduced myself or asked for your name!"

"... no way," Sanada squawks. "No friggin' way!"

Makoto's smirk grows larger, but the girl undoubtedly takes that as him finding her reaction cute.

"My name is Toya Shinomura," The girl bows slightly, gripping the handle of her purse with both hands. "It's nice to meet you."

"Wow, pretty name~!" Makoto widens his eyes, doing his best to look dazzled. "You're pretty all around, huh?"

"T-thank you," Toya lowers her eyes, brushing a loose strand of jet-black hair behind her studded ear.

"I feel shocked that this is working so well but also immensely impressed," Mitsuru reports into her mic. "Bon chance, Yuki. Keep her entranced."

"You gotta show me how you're doing this, Makoto."

"My name is Makoto Yuki," He grins, trying to think of why he didn't just give a fake name and be done with it, but coming up with nothing. "Well? What's the plan tonight, Toya-san?'

She laughs airily, letting her hands loose from her purse as Makoto leads her toward the mall. He knew the plan; he'd already discussed it with Mitsuru and Akihiko. This is all just small talk.

"Club Escapade is throwing a party, invite only." She conspiratorily whispers to Makoto as they enter the majestic foyer filled with storefronts and restaurants. There aren't many people in the building, surprisingly. "I get invited all the time, and I normally wouldn't go, but…"

She glances at him, and it's all he needs to know. He's not one to leave tools unused.

"Hey, I'm always down for a party," Makoto glances over at her suavely. It's entirely untrue. Makoto would usually prefer death over any social gathering—but we've got to make sacrifices for the things we love, and he loves fighting for SEES. "I've never been to Club Escapade, though. You'll have to show me around if you don't mind."

Toya-san bites her lip, smiling a little as she looks away. "Of course, Makoto-san. Just follow my lead."

"God, she is smitten with him." Akihiko whines. "I don't get it."

"Yuki can be very charming when he actively tries." Mitsuru grins with her voice.

"...huh? Mitsuru, did you and him…?"

"A lady doesn't kiss and tell." She teases.

Makoto rolls his eyes while the two bicker like siblings. The thought makes him smile as he offers his arm to Toya, who takes it with a blush.

—

Kotone downs her fourth glass of something handed to her. The pounding music reverberating all around her is doing more for her pulsating headache than the liquor does.

"Another shot, Kotone!" Some guy she met calls, smiling that deviously devilish grin a guy does when he thinks he's found easy pickings. She wipes her mouth, spinning around and smiling as she takes the glass from his hand and gulps it in a single drop.

"Thanks~!" she waves, barely feeling the buzz as she spins away, pirouetting into another crowd of guys that'll buy an underage girl as many drinks as she wants, leaving the wannabe player behind, dumbfounded and shocked.

It's so easy. All you've got to do is flash some cleavage—which Kotone has enough of, maybe shake a bit of her butt, and boom! Free alcohol. Most of these dudes genuinely think she's going to sleep with them. It's hilarious!

If they get handsy, just show them her legs! They scurry off with their tails between their legs the minute they lay eyes on her mangled skin and perforated scars. It's soooooo great!

So great.

"Ugh!" She groans out to the crowd of dancing bodies, and her voice is lost in the cacophony of grinding pelvises and bouncing music. "Stop being so depressing! I'm here to have fun!"

"Fun?! I'll show you some fun!" A skinny guy in a leather jacket and boot-cut jeans dances over, gyrating to the music as he yells over the crowd. He's handsome, malnourished but well-cut. Blonde, straight and thin hair frames his face, running down to his hips like a modern-day prophet.

This guy's got money. Kotone bats her lashes at him, cocking her hip out and bouncing her chest a bit with the movement. Thank god for this tight dress. "Buy a girl a drink?"

"I can do you one better," He winks at her, offering his arm to lead her away.

Well, you only live once. Plus, being nine shots deep in whatever liquor offered makes whatever this guy says sounds like an absolutely magnificent time.

"Okay~!" Kotone immediately grabs hold and allows him to lead her forward to the bar, where he holds up to fingers. The bartender jumps to attention and sets to work on their order.

"So, does this angel have a name?" He leans close, brushing his hand against her ear. "You're younger than most that show up here, like a lost lamb. You need to be careful."

"Psh, careful?" Kotone rolls her eyes, resting her elbow on the bar and leaning atop her palm—his hand falls away from her face the minute she performs her practiced motion. "If you knew what I did for work, this'd be considered a vacation," She sighs, the weight of her words going unnoticed by the man, exactly as she expected them to. He's too busy looking at her tits, anyway. "I'm Kotone. You?"

"Jin," He smiles back, his teeth a straight and pearly line of soldiers prepared for war. "Jin Takaya. It's a pleasure to meet someone as… interesting as you."

Before she can respond, two glasses of pink and purple drop in front of them. They're fruity, Kotone can tell at a glance. It is not her preferred drink of choice, but eh. Booze is booze. With a bright smile, she grabs one and pours it down her gullet, leaving Jin shocked as he holds his own.

Before he can take a swig, Kotone smoothly snatches it from his hand and drinks it.

He bought two. The least he could do is make sure they're both for Kotone. She didn't come here to get drunk with somebody.

"You really are interesting," Jin doesn't look perturbed by her taking his cup. If anything, he's more invested. Ugh. "Tell me, what do you think of Iwatodai?"

"It's home," Kotone slurs, raising the empty glass and peering through it to see what the black lights look like behind the liquor. "I loooooove it!"

Her eyes catch on someone, a familiar head of dark blue hair. Instinctively, they follow, but she can't find it again. It's probably just those thirteen shots catching up to her.

To-chan would never show up here. This is Kotone's personal hell; he's not allowed to be a part of it.

"I do too," Her 'partner' drawls with a sigh, his words pooling with adoration. "This city… carries a storied history of tragedy I just can't seem to shake free from."

"Oh~?" Kotone fiddles with her empty cup, pretending to be interested in hopes he'll buy her another. Her breath catches in her throat as another flash of blue passes through her vision. That wasn't her imagination.

"Yes!" Jin hyperactively bursts forward, scrambling for Kotone's hands. He grips them tightly, holding her palms close. She tries to wrench them away—to search for that head of blue, but he only holds them tighter. "The history—Moonlight Bridge terrorist attack, The Paulownia Massacre, and the Drowning of 2005! Haven't you once considered the meaning?!"

Instinctively, she tries to wrench away from him but can't. Schooling her features as quickly as possible, she grins at his words, trying to ease the situation without words. Usually, this works—but Jin doesn't seem to notice.

He leans closer, whispering to Kotone about; 'The Coming.'

Okay. This guy's crazy. "Haha~!" She laughs, desperately attempting to untangle her fingers from his vice grip. There's a maniacal air about this man, putting Kotone on edge. Instantly, she prepares to kick him, readying to grab the combat knife she has clipped to the holster on her thigh for protection.

"You must come to the Sabbath tomorrow! We're preparing to commune with the—!"

"Hey, honey!" A new voice drops in, bursting past Jin's overwhelming aura with a light yet loud yell. There's still music blaring, after all. When Kotone looks over, desperation is written clearly across her face before she recognizes who it is.

Fear melts away, replaced with shocked exasperation and a little bit of shame. This is the second time he's seen her in this sorry state. But overall, she's just happy he's here.

"To-chan!" Kotone cries, finally getting her hands free. She falls into his arms as the fear of the situation finally catches up.

"There you are!" Makoto heartily laughs, pulling her closer and kissing her cheek. With a bright smile that looks wrong, he looks up at Jin, who confusedly watches the scene unfold. "Thanks for keeping watch on her. She tends to go overboard when we go out. Anyway, we're leaving. Have a good night!"

"Of course…" Jin trails before breaking out in a smile of his own. It's like he just understood the meaning of a joke. "Of course! No problem, my man! It was a pleasure—she's very charming."

"That she is," Makoto grins, looking down at her with the closest thing to a loving look he could muster. To Kotone, it resembles someone gazing at their pet turtle. "Thanks again."

He drags her away further from the bar and onto the dancefloor, where she finally realizes some woman is trailing them she doesn't know.

"Uh, To-chan, who's that?" Kotone asks, pointing at the gothic girl. She smiles slightly at her, awkwardly waving.

"Hmm?" His regular voice is back; gone is the falsetto friendly he wore before as he weaved around dancers and lollygaggers. "Oh, that's Toya."

"Toya?" Kotone repeats. Her face twists with disgust as she looks back at the girl. God, she's pretty. Great rack, long legs behind those fishnets, and piercings. That's what To-chan likes?! "Toya, huh? She's… your friend?"

"No," Makoto repeats instantly, dragging Kotone to the exit. They're almost there. "Just a means to an end."

It doesn't take much longer for them to leave; nobody stops them or gets in their way. It's almost like the sea of people was parted for them. But Makoto doesn't comment on it, so neither does Kotone. The minute the trio reach the main promenade, flanked on all sides by fountains, Makoto speaks.

"Sorry, I had to cut our date short, Toya-chan." Date?! He looks remorseful, bowing slightly to the girl who waves in response.

"No, I completely understand!" She replies. Makoto lifts his gaze, offering a small smile in thanks. Toya blushes, looking at the granite floor, and Kotone scoffs. Then, she almost growls when the girl holds his hands. "It was very sweet of you to do that for your friend. As a girl, I know what it's like to be trapped in a situation like that, constantly fed shot after shot. Poor thing," She looks over at Kotone, who tries her hardest to look out of it as she stares at the lights. "She can barely stand."

Toya's gaze softens, empathy and worry seeping from her body language. Kotone has to try her hardest to look as out of it as she can—smothering the burning stare flowing from her eyes. It's haaaaard.

The woman seems nice enough, but the teenage hormones in Kotone see her as anything other than a snake that's ruining her garden. It's really unfair, and Kotone knows that, but there's just something… ugh, she can't explain it. She can't even formulate the thoughts in her head.

But that might just be the seventeen shots she had earlier.

"Yeah," Makoto sighs, still playing his role in whatever show their doing. Gross. "I'd better get her home. Are you gonna be okay?"

Kotone rolls her eyes, leaning against one of the fountains as she crosses her arms. He's not into her. Just a means to an end, remember? "Ugh, I need a drink…" She groans under her breath.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Toya smiles shyly. "I don't live far, and I have that pepper spray you gave me earlier."

Oh, gifts now, too?

"Cool," The boy nods. "I'll see you later. Be safe."

"Bye!" She waves. "It was nice to meet you, Kotone-chan!"

The girl doesn't wave back. Instead, she looks away, pretending she wasn't paying attention as closely as she was. Good riddance.

"So," Makoto starts, still watching Toya leave. "What were you thinking, hmm?"

Here it comessss~! With a groan, she throws her head back against whatever she is leaning on and nearly falls into the fountain before remembering where she was sitting. "Whoah—! Uh, I mean, I wasn't~?"

"You're lucky." That is all he says in response. When she doesn't retort, the boy continues. "That was Takaya. You're lucky I was there."

"Whaaaa~?" Kotone tries, acting her best reproduction of a girl caught off guard as she covers her mouth. "Who's thaaaaaat~?"

"Cut the act," Makoto glares at her, freezing the girl. What's got him so mad? "You and I both know that you'd need a lot more than you had to get as blasted as you're pretending to be. Why were you there tonight?"

"Tch," Kotone's temper gets the better of her. "What do you care? Don't act like you weren't also—"

This time, he interrupts her with a single, pointed stare.

"I'm here on behalf of SEES." Makoto continues to stare coldly, peering into Kotone's very soul. At least, it feels that way. She grimaces, looking down at the shining floor as the room spins. Ugh. "This was a job—that you got in the way of."

Immediately, all blood pours from her body. The senpai sent him here?

"Oh, shit." The girl curses, covering her mouth. Her pleasant buzz is gone, replaced by a pit in her gut that threatens to explode in a pool of vomit. "They—They…!"

Oh god, they're all going to know. How fucked up she is, her stupid internal desires…! The manipulation!

They'll never look at her the same again. Everything is fucked! Jesus, why did she let it get this bad? Kotone had a good thing going—friends, respect, a decent job!

…She's going to be alone again.

"They don't know you came willingly," Makoto breaks through her spiralling self-destruction with his icy cold voice. "I told them Takaya must have coerced you somehow and my mission was overwritten with getting you out as soon as possible."

As quickly as she starts drowning, she begins to come up for air and looks up slowly in shock.

"What…?" The disbelief oozing from her voice like the alcohol permeates through her sweat glands. She's going to stink later—but forget that. Makoto covered for her?

What?

The older boy shakes his head, finally breaking their eye contact as he exhales in disappointment. She can't help but admit that disappointment hurts more than possibly getting caught ever did. It sits on her chest like a fifty-tonne weight—it hurts—a lot.

"I don't know why I keep doing this for you, but I do." Makoto growls; the exasperation is still audible even past the barely contained disgust. He's right about that; she is disgusting. "I'm getting tired of watching you stumble." He grabs her wrist with one last digging glare and wrenches the girl to her feet. "Whatever your issue is, it needs to stop. Find another outlet."

"I-I can't," Kotone whimpers, feeling tears well up in her eyes after she loses her balance and falls from the sudden pull. She won't cry. She won't. "It's all I have left."

On her hands and knees, she can be thankful he can't see her tearful and red face. She's not even that bad. There are tons of other people who are actual alcoholics. Kotone just likes to have fun—she doesn't rely on it.

"I don't care." Makoto sighs again, not at all moving to help her up. "You're a mess, and I can't keep doing this. You completely threw this whole operation on its head—and you stole that from me because you have a problem. This was a huge opportunity, and you ruined it because you had to get drunk with a goddamn cult leader." His rant pauses before continuing—his voice softer yet still derisive. "They're going to find out, and you're gonna get expelled—or worse."

"It's—It's not a problem!" The girl finally raises her head, snot dripping from her nose as her tears finally fall. "I can stop anytime I want to! I just like to have fun, okay?!"

"This is fun to you?" Makoto scoffs, gesturing to her whole body. "You can barely stand, Shiomi."

"Screw you!" She cries, her words pure malevolence and meaninglessness. "You don't know me! What makes you think you can judge me when you left!"

"Enough," He holds up his hand, looking away for a second.

"No, you don't get to—"

"You don't understand," He tries again, but she refuses to be silenced.

"No!" She pushes herself to her feet, swaying from the movement and vertigo. Ugh, she is not going to puke. Not in front of him. Speaking of him, she points in his face, making him jerk back from the proximity. "I'm tired of you getting all… holier than thou! I'm—*hic*—I'm doing my best, okay?! Who cares if I get drunk—"

Finally, the boy reaches his limit and flings his palm against her mouth, scowling at her and shaking his head. "No, I don't care—seriously. So shut up. Kirijo and Sanada just entered the mall, and they're here to escort you home." She tries to pull his hand away, but he fixes her with another warning scowl. "Shut. Up."

God, she wants to bite him so bad. Kotone doesn't know if it's because he made her horny or angry, though. Fuck this guy. Messing with her emotions like this.

— —

Midnight

The Dark Hour

New Moon~Sabbath

"Ugh," Makoto grunts, crouching before a manhole cover and wrenching it off with surprisingly little effort. All this Dark Hour stuff has done wonders for Makoto's body strength.

"That's the place," Akihiko mutters in his ear. It's weird using technology in the Dark Hour. Since they lost Aigis, needing a way to communicate has kicked the Kirijo Group into fifth gear in developing communication systems.

Makoto touches the tech attached to his cochlear bone and hums in agreement. Somehow, Kirijo's scientists made communication equipment work without using electronic equipment. It's insanity, but he doesn't have the knowledge or care to ask questions on how it works. It simply does.

He only cares if his request for an MP3 with the same design could be requisitioned for his escapades. Kirijo said she'd look into it.

"Nowhere else she could've been taken. She's got a distinctive trail—says Mitsuru. So long as we follow this signature, we'll find her."

"Dunno how I feel about going into the sewers." Makoto grimaces, staring down the opened, cavernous manhole. Hot, wet air smashes into his face, and he winces at the sulphuric smell. Eggs, god damn. He covers his nose, waving the stench away with little effect. "You going to be okay with me disappearing? You brought your evoker this time, right?"

"Yeah," Makoto can hear the meathead rolling his eyes with exasperation in his tone. "I'll be fine, promise. Sure, I ain't unkillable like you, but I'm still a nationally renowned boxer. Cut me some slack."

The whinging echoing in Makoto's ear makes the boy shake his head. He huffs before readying himself for the drop into the depths. "Whatever. Just… be careful. Tell me the plan if Strega shows up—just one more time, please."

"Ugh, fine," Akihiko groans. "Fall back to the dorm, don't try to dodge any bullets, lock all the doors and call Mitsuru. Happy?"

Makoto nods in satisfaction, although his face doesn't even twitch. "Very. See you on the other side. We'll do a comcheck as soon as I'm down."

The boy cracks his neck with a huff and hops into the musky sewer drain. He's in freefall for a while, but his body instinctively prepares itself for the sudden landing by tucking into a roll. Awakening his Persona had transformed his body—reflexes sharper, strength and agility heightened. He was no longer just keeping up; he was surpassing.

He has yet to test their limits, but he hopes tonight will be that chance.

"Eugh," He grimaces, wiping off some sludge from his jacket. Maybe tucking and rolling in a sewer wasn't a good idea. He shrugs—meh—before checking the earpiece. "Check, Akihiko. Do you read?"

"Loud and clear."

"Good," Makoto sighs, pulling out a camping lantern he picked up the other day for such occasions. It's gas, no electricity involved. Lighting it up, he holds it out and begins marching further into the slimy, stinky depths of Tatsumi Port. "Let me know if the connection fades."

"Roger," Akihiko replies before falling silent. It's quiet from here on out, broken only when Makoto passes beneath a grate open to the surface and hears some Shadows wandering around, groaning and slurping whatever they find.

There are a few human screams, too, but that's never slowed Makoto down. He's too focused on following this trail, winding through the labyrinthine corridors of sewage.

"So, I wanted to ask," The boy strikes up.

"Hmm?" Makoto absently hums, glancing around the sewer and keeping his guard up as much as possible.

"Shinomura-san—you think you'll ever ask her out again?"

"If she's another way into one of Strega's Sabbaths, sure," The boy grunts, stepping over a particularly green pool of ooze.

Damn you, Shiomi, for wasting a good night to gather information.

"...seriously?" there's a small amount of disdain in his voice, like he's offended. Why? "She was into you, dude. Is that all she was? A way into the Sabbath?"

"I dunno why you care," Makoto stops his march, closing his eyes and shaking his head in confusion. "We had a mission, and I only did what I had to to complete it."

"Look, I'd be the last person to tell you what to do in regards to a woman—I'm too focused on boxing to put time and effort into a girlfriend," Akihiko begins to rebuke him, making the boy roll his eyes and tap his foot in response. "But I think you're wrong for doin' her like that. The least you could do is tell her you're not interested."

But that would be a waste of a potential way into Strega. Akihiko would never understand that, though.

"This conversation is meaningless," Makoto coldly responds, beginning his march again. "I'm not discussing this any further."

"Then what about Kotone?" Akihiko jumps right back into it. "I haven't forgotten that night you brought her into your room—and she saw you guys yesterday, even if she was… wasted."

There's a grimace in his voice, but Makoto can tell it's because of the situation the girl got caught up in, not because she's a mess. It should be; it's the story Makoto fed them.

"What about Shiomi," The teen sighs, reaching a branching path. It's a two-way duct, one is laden with brown bricks—much older, while the other is newer, with electrical wires and light fixtures that would work if it weren't the Dark Hour. The choice is a no-brainer; he barely thinks before choosing the older pipeway. "I leant her my shower, that was all."

"Look," Akihiko finally decides he wants to lay down the law. "Your life is your life. Live it how you want. But when you start hurting people close to me—and SEES—you're doing more damage than I think you care to see. If you're going to keep up this… Devil may care attitude; I need you not to involve Kotone or Mitsuru."

Makoto can hear the unspoken words. This isn't a request; it's a warning.

"I don't see what Kirijo has to do with this," the boy grinds. There's a frustration festering inside of him that's growing with every word spoken by the boxer. "I didn't ask her to tag along with me."

"She would never admit it, but she's interested in you. I don't know what that means as of now—I guarantee you that she doesn't either, but there's gonna be a moment in the future where you'll have to face her feelings head-on. Same with Kotone." There's a hardness in his voice—the voice of a brother with two sisters facing a prospective love interest. The frustration building within Makoto fades when he realizes what Akihiko's doing. "Either get it together and treat them respectfully, or don't get involved. Understood?"

Makoto sighs, nodding unseen to his words. "Yeah, I got it."

"Good—"

A roar echoes off the walls, guttural and monstrous. The teen freezes, his free hand immediately on his Evoker.

It's different from their usual sound—screeching and sharp.

"Sanada, there's something down here," Makoto reports, unholstering the pistol and readying a stance while he slowly marches forward. "It sounds big,"

Usually, his heart rate would spike, and he'd feel a rush of adrenaline. But… there's something strange about this situation. He didn't freeze because of an innate fear. It was simply because he wasn't expecting the roar. His blood pressure doesn't rise, and he doesn't feel the pulsating rush of liquid in his ears.

It's just business as usual. Boring. A day at the office. Akihiko reports in the affirmative, telling him to be careful, but Makoto doesn't bother responding.

"What…?" He asks aloud, looking down at his unshaken hand gripping his Evoker in a dry palm. Even his sweat glands aren't reacting like they usually do.

It's like… he doesn't care.

He lived for this moment. Is he numbed? He can't be. This was his one thing, and there's nothing for him otherwise. He's in SEES because of his need to feel something, and if he can't even feel adrenaline, he doesn't need to be here anymore. After all, life or death situations and combat were the only things that—

There isn't anything for him at SEES anymore. Why does that thought hurt so much?

"Oh god," he whispers, the weight of emptiness settling over him. It's not fear—it's the sorrow of realizing he can't feel anything again.

He can't die anymore. What's the point?