The moon, once obscured by the sun, now ruled the sky. The sun still allowed a little light to escape from its radiant being, but it didn't fall directly on any one side, managing to illuminate the Earth evenly, at least a little.
The sky was slightly dark, and the occasional white dot could be seen. The sky here isn't very interesting either; you'd normally see a couple of white dots and little else.
Under that darkened sky, I stood still, having witnessed them go without me, leaving me behind, here, beside their grave.
It had been a couple of minutes since they left, and I had done nothing but stay put.
Typical of a cemetery, the atmosphere was silent, completely opposite to the atmosphere we had created earlier. No one was there, it was already quite late, and we didn't hear any birds or cars on the street. It was a bit far from any major road, and we didn't hear any voices either.
I didn't know what came next. I was afraid to find out, but at the same time, I couldn't feel that fear. For a moment, I felt nothing. As I stood there, I processed nothing.
Standing next to his grave…
…Didn't I have to do something here? It took me a while to realize, but I eventually did. I didn't come here to yell or talk to them.
I looked at my right hand. Aside from being red and a little torn from hitting it so much, it wasn't holding anything. It wasn't holding anything. My neutrality ceased, causing an immense anguish to consume me.
I had come to leave flowers on his grave…
I completely lost sight of my purpose, my duty, my responsibility. They had asked me to do it, they had entrusted me with their money, and that bag that should have been in my hand was gone.
I panicked for a moment, not knowing where I had left the bag, but after turning around, my back on the path that led to the exit of the cemetery, I saw the bag.
She was crushed.
I was shocked to see her lying on the floor, in such a deplorable state. When I processed what was in front of me, I ran over to her, worried about what was inside.
I picked up the bag from the floor after kneeling down, and hesitated to open it, to see what was inside. If it really was all squashed...
I started getting nervous, worried, breathing irregularly, at a rapid pace.
I opened the bag by the handles, and there they were, all the flowers I had bought with money that wasn't mine, with money I had kept, crushed, several petals having separated from their flowers, ending up scattered inside the bag.
They were completely ruined, there was no way I could offer the flowers in the state they were in. I had no choice but to throw them away.
All… Ruined…
I promised the director, my father, Otsuki… Haruka…
The image of each of them flashed through my mind. The director's confident gaze. My father's expression, relieved that I'd repented, and regretted something else himself. Otsuki's expression, embarrassed by the mere thought of asking me, but also confident. Haruka, with her kind expression, full of gentleness, displaying the warmth of a mother.
Mother…
"She failed in her responsibility, and therefore left home. You failed in your responsibility, and therefore..."
I had failed them, all those eyes, all those people… I had no excuse. This was something not even a mask could hide.
… If I told you this…
'I had a fight with my friends.' 'I don't want to see them again.' 'I ruined the flowers.' I'd have to tell them everything that happened so they'd understand. Yes… I'd have to say it.
"Are you going to shut up now? Isn't it too late to do so?"
If I don't say anything... They'll never know... They'll never get mad at me...
"You keep quiet when people talk to you and you don't know how to respond, you keep quiet about what you feel out of pure pride, you kept quiet about his note for a whole week, and now you're going to keep quiet about this too?"
If I keep quiet, no one will say anything to me, no one will shout at me...
It didn't have to come to light, nobody had to-
"…Daiki was right. You're standing right in front of her and you're not showing her a shred of respect."
I looked toward her grave, which was to my right. Now, instead of a soft yellow, a barely existent light illuminated part of her grave. I couldn't see her photo, nor the name carved on it; I could only see the lower part of the grave, and a large bouquet of white and purple flowers—a light purple. It was beautiful, with dazzling care and detail, despite not having any warm or intense colors.
Another image came to mind, of him delivering those flowers before she arrived, leaving her on her grave as an offering, as a sign of respect, something that would be broken soon after, but that he…
If he hadn't intervened...
I didn't know when it happened, but in all that exchange, someone stepped on the bag. It was him…
If he hadn't been so clever, all of this... I wouldn't have to feel this way, I wouldn't have to throw away the flowers, I wouldn't have to feel such a horrible pressure in my chest...
It was as if the blow I gave him in the chest had been returned ten times harder.
I grabbed the plastic bag by its handles and stood up, walking to the front of his grave. That bouquet was the most striking thing, placed in front of his photo. I couldn't see it, I avoided it, so all my attention went to the bouquet. The bouquet he offered.
…
I reached out toward the grave and took the bouquet of flowers resting on top of it. I held it tightly as I walked to a corner, one where there was no one, no grave.
I didn't walk far, reaching a tree that was far enough away from her grave. That's where I threw the bouquet of flowers onto the ground in front of the tree.
I still had that capacity, to get angry, to get frustrated, to feel hate .
…Daiki… You…
I clenched my fist, staring at the bouquet lying on the ground. It could only make me think of him. Only him…
"…"
I lifted my leg, and with force, with all the strength I had, I stepped on him.
Then I lifted my leg again, and stepped on it again.
…
I stepped on it.
I hate you.
I stepped on it again.
I hate you!
I stepped on it more and more.
I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!
I couldn't stop.
"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! NO, YOUR FAULT! IF NONE OF YOU HAD BEEN HERE…!"
The flowers inside the bouquet kept getting deformed, dirty, broken, and the petals kept separating from them.
I HATE YOU, &$%"! ! YOU'RE JUST A SELFISH PIECE OF SHIT WHO THINKS ABOUT HIMSELF AND NO ONE ELSE! THAT'S WHY YOU CAME UP TO ME IN THE FIRST PLACE, FOR YOUR OWN INTEREST! I HATE YOU, _¨*^?¿· ! YOU'RE JUST A COWARD, A WEAK PIECE OF SHIT WHO PRETENDS TO BE STRONG! YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN WEAK, AND SINCE WHEN DID YOU WANTED TO CHANGE?! IF YOU'RE GOING TO CHANGE SO LATE, IN SUCH A PATHETIC WAY, IT WOULD BE BETTER IF YOU JUST STAYED SILENT, LIKE YOU ALWAYS ARE! I HATE YOU, =@º\'! YOU'RE JUST CONceited, YOU THINK THAT BECAUSE YOU'RE FRIENDS WE HAVE TO PAY ATTENTION TO EVERYTHING YOU SAY AND DO!
My footsteps echoed through the quiet place where I stood, slowly pushing the branch back against the tree, knocking the tree and the branch. It wasn't very thick, so each kick shook it slightly, rattling its trunk, branches, and leaves, but never knocking it over.
I felt only one thing, and had no eyes or mind for anything else. And yet, he thought for me, with immeasurable hatred.
"All of that and much more are the reasons why I…"
I…
...I HATE YOU!
END OF VOLUME 2