Chapter Text

Sju bøtter tårer er nokk, Beatrice

Komaeda is still left in his big house, now as empty as the night. He doesn’t have anyone to support him, to help him find his lost love. But even if he had someone to help him, what would they do? Enoshima and Kamukura were surely on the move to avoid being found. As of now, there just wasn’t any hope…

The whitehaired man develops a psychotic behavior that marks him with compulsive behavior. This leads him to do a lot of things he would never even think of before. This probably explained his drinking, smoking and otherwise dangerous actions. But who knows, Komaeda wasn’t the most stabile person before this happened either.

The grief had grown so big that he had started crying into buckets, filling one bucket a year. He would fill them to the brim, to the point where they almost ran over. He wasn’t entirely sure why he did this, but that wasn’t really important. After three years the poor boy was finally empty. He wasn’t able to cry tears anymore, he would cry without shedding a single tear. At this point he didn’t see any other ways out than to take his own life.

Komaeda as broken as he was, had been walking in endless circles in his attic, talking himself like he had done so much recently. ‘’Why did he leave me? Why would he choose despair over hope? I guess I just wasn’t good enough… How could I ever think that I was good enough? I’m scum, and this is just how my cycle of good and bad luck works.’’ He wouldn’t usually get this affected by his cycle of luck, but this was just too much for him to handle.

After a long time of walking and talking, he had picked up his stick of dynamite that he had gotten from a friend, years ago. Komaeda sat down on an old, run down chair and light fuse, placing the dynamite underneath it. While he was waiting, he let himself get lost in his dreams, until IT happened.

During the time he was dreaming, he had connected to Kamukura. He saw this as a sign, a sign that he shouldn’t go through with killing himself. His thoughts ran wild, he had a lit stick of dynamite underneath him, he had to survive, he couldn’t go trough with this as long as he was still connected with his love. At that moment he had decided to go out in the world, to find them and take revenge on Junko.

At the last second before the dynamite explodes, the whitehaired throws it out the window and runs to the door. It was all going so fast, being over before almost a second had passed, but yet it felt like an eternity. His heart beat quick and hard, feeling almost as if it was about to shoot out trough his chest.

The side of his long jacked caught on fire as the dynamite exploded with a loud ‘boom’, in a state of panic, he picked up his three buckets of salty tears and throws it over himself. Who would ever have thought that the 3 years of sorrow would save him from his own death?

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Some time had passed, he was dry and his heart had calmed down from the explosion and drama caused by himself. Komaeda was back to wandering aimlessly around his empty house, he is talking to himself and all the demons in his head. ‘’Hell, my lucky cycle struck again. This is not the time for me to pass, that’s still long in the future’’ As usual he was dressed in his old jacket, now halfway burned on one side. The man was reeking of gasoline, holding a half-empty bottle of vodka in his hand, a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

Komaeda went trough a hard school with all his thoughts, having been in an existential crisis ever since Enoshima and Kamukura left. For so long he hadn’t seen a single reason to keep on living, why he even existed. He had just been a pawn in Enoshima’s plan of ‘despair’. The only thing he had done since they left was getting drunk and smoking too many cigarettes.

He had been unable to take action and getting a grip of his own life. It had gone so far that he had even tried to take his own life… But now, he was finally able to see all the links clearly again, the links between him and his love.

All his experiences are amplified, like in a natural psychedelic ecstasy. Every feeling, color and sound was so much more vibrant. If he were to look down on his dark green jacket, it would seem like it was almost neon green.

All the boundaries between dreams, fantasy and reality were now blurred out. He would dream about killing Enoshima with his bare hands, and kissing Kamukura, thinking that he had actually done it.

Oh how lucky he was, yes, he was LUCKY, that was his talent after all, and oh how much he praised it. At this moment of time he didn’t even care about his cycle of bad luck. Not only was he praising himself and his talent for once, but he was also mocking Enoshima. ‘’You can’t see past despair, can you? The beautiful hope tat lies behind it. The despair you cause will end in hope, no matter what you do, no matter what you cause, hope will find you and defeat it!’’

Komaeda smiles widely to himself, gulping down the last of his alcoholic beverage. ‘’All of you useless people who can’t imagine hope shining trough must obviously be dead!’’ His grey-ish green irises goes wide, swirls of black and white overlapping, almost like hope and despair dancing together.

‘’I can’t even imagine how you keep on living, hope is everything, you are utterly useless!’’ A small huff escapes his lips before he starts laughing like the madman he truly was at this point. His laughter went on and on, for at least five minutes before he lost his breath. Komaeda sat down on his run down chair that he had tried to kill himself on. ‘’Enoshima, for you I have one simple thing to say. Even if your birth was natural, that surely doesn’t mean that your death will be!’’ He shouted out loud, breathing heavily, trying to keep himself at least slightly sane.