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Airport building. Somewhere in a distant part of him, two souls stand in front of each other. Concrete grey walls lie in rubble all around. Miraculously, the surviving roof pumps up the atmosphere, presses, inspires that it is about to fall. Somewhere, volunteers, police, paramedics, firefighters are dismantling the rubble, providing assistance, protecting victims, reporters, onlookers from exhausted, terrible and nasty evil spirits. Someday they will reach this place.
"Forgive me, Jouno Saigiku...- Tecchou bursts out of his chest. No... He failed, couldn't, didn't have time to guess, he didn't have enough time.His partner stands in front of him in the guise of that evil spirit- a vampire. Jouno is not like others like him, no, he is not so pale, not so exhausted, not gnawed, clean, as if he remained who he was before the fatal conversation.
Late. It's too late to beg, to forgive, Suehiro. Don't look so fascinated and doomed. You wouldn't have made it even if you'd broken into them. Oh, so the problem is different..
Jouno Saigiku will never become human again.
The thought reverberated in his brain, throbbed in his temples. And he didn't even have time to admit to him or tell him that he appreciates and wants to take care of him.
The creature does not take a step, it stands expectantly. The swordsman wants to fall to his knees and cover his face with his hands in despair.
"Breathe. Breathe."- from the influx of emotions and experiences, the guy forgot that his body needs air.
The clothes are dirty from the fight with Kenji Miyazawa. A nice boy, they became friends. If Kenji hadn't noticed the half-full room, it's unlikely that the partners would have met.
They're in deep trouble. Why, why can't anything be fixed? Why can't an Esper with the ability to travel back in time be here now? Why does this life always give difficult paths? Nothing can be fixed...
sunset. Suehiro holds on, does not cry from hopelessness, does not fall to his knees from fatigue. He will do it. He will rid the world of a dangerous conflict for the civilian population.
The clang of a sword from its scabbard. The bare katana in his hand seems to be hitting the swordsman, when the vampire seems to understand what Tetchō is going to do now, but humbly waits in the wings.
– Forgive me, my love
The scope. The words sound like a verdict, firmly. The first blow. The head and body collapsed on the dusty concrete floor with a thud. The second blow, just in case, to the heart, so that for sure, so that this something no longer stood up, did not grow her head, so that she did not look at Suehiro and did not ask in her sweetly cruel voice: "For what, Tecchou?"
Quietly. His ears are ringing disgustingly. He still fell to his knees, leaning on his trusty sword. He want the surviving roof to crush him, end the suffering of the swordsman, but this did not happen. Tears don't fall, how come?
The body, which was still bleeding, lies in the concrete crumbs, dust, does not move. The head next to it turned its gaze away from the man, showing him only snow-white hair with red ends that were stained with blood, wonder if it has more of Saigiku's own blood or someone else's?
"Forgive me, my love," he confessed once more. He wanted to repeat it a hundred times, like a mantra, like a prayer for good luck in the new year.
Two days have passed. Tecchou's torments became stronger. Going to the window and looking at the sky and then at the ground, Suehiro bitterly whispered:
– Forgive me, my love.
He couldn't stand it. He will perform the seppuku rite.
He took a cold bath in the morning, which was unpleasant. Then he put on a white kimono. Tecchou had been struggling with the belt for a long time. He went to cook the food. He's having his last meal. It was scary, but the determination was stronger. With difficulty, hе found sanbo in the pantry and somehow pulled him out. Не bought paper, because hе ran out of paper at home. He put two pieces of paper on the table, a brush with which he studied calligraphy as a child, opened a bottle of high-quality sake that Fukuchi gave him, poured it into a cup. He got a tanto from his father, just in case.
Tecchou sat down in the "seiza" pose, wrote a verse that he could only remember. His mind was racing all the time at the very moment when he beheaded Jouno. He opened a clean snow-white kimono, thought:"I shouldn't have just tried to tie this belt perfectly. " Exhaled.He whispered:
– Forgive me, my love...
The blade plunged into the left side of the abdomen in one motion, moving to the right. The body bent over.
The hara-kiri rite has been performed. Tecchou Suehiro is dead.