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I miss Oboro every single day. He was my best friend. How couldn’t I miss him?
He was seventeen when the building fell on him. Crushing him to death.
But he was so pretty. So perfect. And he was so alive. Always smiling and laughing. Maybe that’s why cutting when I miss him hurts so much. Because I know he wouldn’t like me doing this.
But it’s the only thing that helps.
Except it doesn’t. Not really. Because it only hurts, it doesn’t relieve anything. Not the ache inside of me. Not the guilt for not being able to save him. None of it.
I throw the knife under my bed before I can break the skin again with it.
I think about him again at seventeen. That smile. Him laughing with me and hizahsi. I close my eyes.
Oboro wouldn’t want this. So I do what he would want. I call Hizahsi.
That decision would make him proud.