Chapter Text
His throat felt raw, even though he hadn't screamed. The cold night air painfully expanded his lungs, and he felt a scraping sensation when he inhaled sharply, barely feeling like he was breathing. Tears continued to blur his vision, no matter how hard he tried to wipe them away. His head throbbed, and he swore he felt like his heart was being shattered.
It felt like he'd been on his knees for hours, small pebbles irritating the skin of his knees, which were covered by thin pants that offered little to none protection against the cold. His face was frozen, sticky, and covered in wet streaks of tears and snot. He didn't even want to think about how he looked or how pathetic he was.
The notebook Kawamura had so kindly given him, filled with the drawings he'd requested, lay on the floor, getting dirty and soaked with sadness. He couldn't even appreciate that. A cold self-loathing, which he already knew, filled him when he realized how ungrateful he was for everything. It wasn't enough for him to be Hirose's friend; he had to desperately desire his heart, to be selfish in every way. Look where that had led him.
It wasn't his fault. He truly was content just to be a part of Hirose's life, to be by his side during important moments, but his own mind had made him imagine things that hadn't happened that awful Valentine's Day, and now he was paying the price. That was the downside of letting his mind wander amoung the clods; his heart ended up soaked. The more he let his hopes rise, the more the fall would hurt, and boy, did it hurt. He didn't think he could get up this time.
He looked up and felt the warm trail of fresh tears welling in his eyes. He rubbed them vigorously with his sleeve and struggled to his feet. After the strenuous bike ride and the long time spent on his knees, his legs felt like jelly. Even so, he was careful not to step on and make more dirty the precious manga where he and Hirose could be more than just friends.
It hadn't even occurred to him to ask Kawamura how she knew about his feelings for Hirose. although he no longer cared about keeping that dirty, pointless secret. Perhaps it was better to reveal the truth once and for all, to apologize to Hirose for daring to feel this way without him knowing, for taking advantage of his kindness to indulge his fantasies of reciprocated love.
He took a few fatigued steps forward until his hands firmly gripped the bars of the fence in front of him, separating him from a fall of several meters, not to mention the large rocks and thorny bushes he could see through his wet eyes. An old impulse, which had lain dormant in the back of his mind as he grew closer to Hirose and other people at school, resurfaced and began to fill his head with warm thoughts. Thoughts that once filled his chest with a twisted comfort, helping him pass the lonely afternoons hidden in the elementary school bathrooms, far from the looks of disgust and contempt the others threw at him when he did something they considered strange.
You can end this at any time
The loneliness could be stopped, people's mocking stares could be erased, the burning pain in his chest from knowing that Hirose would never see him as anything more than a friend could be extinguished. He didn't think his family would miss him much; he couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken to his father beyond murmurs and short words. Kana wouldn't care at all. He didn't want to think about his mother.
And most of his classmates certainly wouldn't notice the absence of the quiet, gloomy boy who never spoke.
It seemed so simple: one small jump and all his problems would roll downhill. He'd forget everything, maybe even be reincarnated as someone more normal, or even a happy octopus in the sea. Anything was better than tearing his lungs apart in the cold air, crying instead of being happy for his friend.
He looked again into the dark abyss into which he would be lost forever. The threat of something Nakamura had already begged for years before.
His head ached from crying so much, and the sticky skin of his face stung from the warm tears that contrasted with the icy winter air. A burning determination filled his chest as he lifted one leg, laboriously swinging it over the fence, still clutching the bars he was holding onto.
His fingers trembled.
As he swung his other leg over, he found himself with his back to the abyss, growing darker with each passing hour. he glanced at the notebook lying on the ground once more, its delicate lines depicting a sweet lie that would never come to reality. he sighed, mentally apologizing, closed his eyes, and finally released himself from his grip on the cold metal.
He couldn't do it.
he froze at the last moment, his eyes widening as he felt a ray of clarity pierce his mind while he trembled and let out a sob that tore his throat even more.
He couldn't even do that.
He couldn't invite Hirose to eat together, he couldn't give him the chocolate he bought for him, he couldn't admit that he bought the pen especially for him, he couldn't put an end to his suffering.
He closed his eyes tightly and forced himself to let go.
But he couldn't.
What would become of his precious Icchan? His mother didn't know how to take care of him, and Kana found him disgusting. He guessed that they would return him to the pet shop, but he would get depressed without anyone to tell him about their day and sing him cheesy songs from the '80s and '90s.
He still owed Kawamura a gift as a thank you for drawing his manga with so much love and effort. He would feel guilty for not giving her something in return after feeling so uplifted by the words she had written. It wasn't much, but it wasn't in his nature to leave things unfinished. He truly wanted to hold on to those small moments of light in his life, but he couldn't see his future as bright without Hirose.
He saw no reason not to let go.
Who was Nakamura, really, without loving Hirose?
The boy with tanned skin and beautiful eyes, with a bright smile, who saw him as nothing more than a friend.
He couldn't really blame him. Nakamura was aware of the aura he projected, the fear and discomfort he inspired. Nothing like the gentleness, delicacy, and beauty that Hirose's girlfriend exuded. Not to mention that she was a girl.
He'd even be doing the world a favor if he jumped.
Stop being the black hole that tried to absorb all the light Hirose emitted.
He didn't want to be the grim shadow that haunted his friend. He promised himself he would be there for him, support him, and accompany him through every stage of his life, feeling complete simply by seeing him from afar and receiving a warm smile in return.
But it wasn't strong enough to withstand the pain of the disappointment he knew awaited him.
He released his grip.
Feeling gravity envelop him tightly and pull him down was somehow liberating. His gaze fixed on the sky, the bright stars blurring into the tears that hadn't yet left his eyes, giving him a sense of unreality, as if he were in a painting or a blurry photograph.
Photograph.
He remembers, in those seven minutes of your life that you relive before dying, that photograph his teacher took of him and Hirose, when Hirose told him he thought they were already friends. He remembered the warmth in his chest, the smell of the sea enveloping them both as Hirose ran his arm by his neck without letting go of the small crab keychain Nakamura had given him, almost as if he were showing it off to the camera, and he let the memory wash over him as his body violently crashed against the enormous rocks below the abyss where he had thrown himself. He rolled several meters, breaking through bushes and feeling his limbs rapidly lose sensation, and stopped when his body was abruptly brought to a halt by a tree trunk.
Was it crazy to pray for better hallucinations? Before closing his eyes forever, he swore he heard a car stop, the voice scraping his mind in search of a name or a face to match the sound, but his ears had been ringing ever since he threw himself into the arms of fate and he didn't know who the people were who were walking around in the middle of the night.
For some reason, he couldn't feel his legs or hands, and when he felt a viscous liquid trickle from his temple into his eyes, he couldn't wipe it away. He closed his eyes and sighed as he heard shouts and incoherent words.
His mind wavered between consciousness and the smile Hirose gave to him and the hand he extended; his last conscious thought was the burning desire to see Hirose again.