If you haven't read the prologue yet, read it first.
February 29, 1992 - December 7, 2011
The funeral hall lay in near silence, broken only by the slow creak of polished wooden floors beneath arriving footsteps.
Even beneath the harsh fluorescent lights, the sea of black made the room feel dimmer.
Slowly, the rows was filled one-by-one. Though the room was filled with people, it still felt unbearably empty.
The faint smell of lilies along with the scented candle wax didn't help to alleviate the pain at all.
Satoru sat motionless in the front row. His white hair stood in sharp contrast against the black of his mourning clothes. His sapphire eyes, once bright enough to command every room he entered, now stared ahead without focus.
Sitting on his left side was his closest companion, Geto Suguru. His gaze was gentle enough to comfort, yet deep enough to compete with the sorrow his dear friend was feeling. His eyes were full of regrets yet a faint glint of acceptance, as if he knew ever since then that this was bound to happen.
The room slowly went empty as every guest departed on their own way.
The sound of his name shattered the over clouding thoughts in his mind. He blinked, his gaze refocusing as the world rushed back into view.
Ah, right. He's in a funeral.
He slowly look at the owner of the voice.
"I've been calling your name," Suguru sighed as he solemnly looked as his friend, "it's time for us to leave." He motioned his gaze on Y/N's parents standing on the side who just looked at them with a saddened smile.
Satoru brushed away his tear from his right eye before it could fall. He quickly stood up as the two bowed to her parents.
They took their leave after offering their last sympathy.
Both of them walked alongside each other. Silence was the only thing that could be heard other than the grazing of the soles of their shoes every time it came contact with the road surface.
They knew better than to talk like they usually do.
The walk on the way to their rented apartment was interrupted when the sky released its first snowfall with a quiet indifference.
One by one, the flakes disappeared into their road, rooftops, and their shoulders, leaving behind a mournful silence. The world fell still.
Shimane prefecture is widely considered as one of Japan's most secluded provinces. Its remote location, blocked by the impassable Chugoku mountain range and the Sea of Japan, keeps it far from Tokyo, the capital city of Japan.
In here, resides the residence of Y/N L/N.
It is scarce of luxurious buildings and condominiums but abundant in ancient sites and preserved landscapes as if allergic to modern civilization. Though it might be away from civilization. The two lads was lucky enough to find and rent a nearby apartment in Y/N's hometown.
They had planned to stay there days prior to and after the funeral service.
With slightly shaky hands, Suguru's hand finds its way to his pocket. The two keys dangled its way out his pocket. He inserted the key into the keyhole, twisting it with a soft click. He turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, letting Satoru go in first before him.
Satoru walked inside without a word, kicking off his shoes. One landed near the doorway, the other somewhere deeper into the apartment.
Suguru quietly set his own pair aside before retrieving Satoru's and placing them neatly beside his.
A soft click of the door can be heard from the bathroom as Suguru sank onto the couch, his body going limp as though every ounce of strength had been drained from him, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular. The silence swallowed him whole.
The apartment was barely large enough for two people. A single bedroom, a cramped kitchen, a bathroom tucked beside the dining area, and a living room that felt smaller than it looked.
Normally, Satoru would have complained.
This time, neither of them had the strength.
Not that it mattered anyways.
Their mind has no room left for complaint as grief already took place.
Suguru was lost in his own thoughts. An eerie silence surrounding him.
A crash suddenly shattered the silence.
The bathroom echoed with a violent crack, followed by the piercing sound of glass shattering into countless pieces.
Suguru was already on his feet before he realized he'd moved.
He cursed under his breathe when he twist the knob of the locked door.
"Satoru open the door!" His voice was laced with panic as he banged his hand loudly at the door. The person inside continued to punch the broken mirror as he shouts in frustration.
He snatched the nearest dining chair and drove it into the door.
The third strike punched a hole through it.
Lucky for him, the door was made with low quality wood.
Tossing the chair aside, Suguru thrust his arm through the opening, fumbling for the lock.
"Satoru, stop it you bastard!" He rushed forward and wrapped one arm across his chest from behind while grabbing his wrist with the other, pulling him back before he could throw another punch. The latter thrashed wildly, twisting violently in an attempt to break free. Satoru continued to struggle against his hold.
"Let me—" summoning every ounce of strength he had, he ripped himself free from the arms restraining him, "Go!"
His knees gave out as it touched the floor of the bathroom. He slouched his back, breathing heavily as he gripped his hair in frustration.
Suguru can only look at him helplessly. The sight in front of him almost made him broke down.
In front of him was his best friend. He had never saw him in this state, not even once. He looks so helpless, away from his usual confident, carefree demeanor. He might not admit it but it deeply crushed him inside.
The bathroom was in chaos. Like it just witnessed a catastrophic calamity. Pieces of shattered glass were everywhere as well as droplets of blood. Satoru's fist where swollen, oozing with blood from the impact. The vivid red contrast effectively spread through his white hair in a bloody mess.
He kneeled down in front of him.
"Hey," Suguru gripped his shoulders tightly, "calm down."
"I tried.." his voice cracked, silence followed for about a minute.
"..I really tried," he opened his mouth, but the words got caught in his throat for a second.
"I should have been there.." His voice dissolved into a stifled cry before he could even finish.
Suguru said nothing. He simply sat beside him, ignoring the mess that surrounded them. He drape an arm around his shoulder and held it tightly. Though his own eyes were in the brink of tears, he refused to let go. He just held him tighter.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he forced himself to offer words of comfort.
It wasn't something Suguru usually did, especially not to Satoru.
Though the his words may seem intended for his friend alone, deep inside, it was intended for himself. A way to cope to what just happened. Reassuring himself that everything will eventually be okay.
A knock could be heard on their unit but it fell on deaf ears of two preoccupied lads. It was followed by another series of impatient knocks.
With a sigh, Suguru squeezed his friends shoulder one last time before standing up and made his way to open the door.
He opened the door, ajar.
The landlord stood at the doorway with his arms crossed, his brows drawn into a deep frown. His gaze swept over the slightly opened door before settling on him, suspicion written across his face.
"Hey! I've been knocking non-stop. You two better not be making any mess or damage on my property."
"We are not." He attempts to close the door only to be stopped by the landlord's arm gripping tightly on the side of the door.
"Open up," he demanded, clearly struggling to open the door. "I heard something break."
"I told you we didn't break anything." Suguru grumbled in annoyance, trying to block the view inside.
"Step aside," he said sharply. "I want to see the room."
Inside the bathroom, Satoru slowly composed himself. With one heavy sigh, he forcefully prompt himself up.
"Sir, you have nothing to see here—" just as he was about to argue once again, a hand gripping on his shoulder interrupted him.
"Y-you!" the landlord's eyes widened at the bloody hand that grip Suguru's left shoulder. Satoru stepped in the view with a sharp gaze directed on the old man.
His sudden appearance made Suguru lost hold of the door which immediately opened, revealing the chaos they made. Unfortunately for them, the disheveled state of the bathroom was clearly the first thing that can be seen upon opening the door, along with the chair who lost one of its limbs.
Satoru just nodded his head as he looked one more time to make sure he had packed everything already. Both of them made their way outside the unit where the landlord waited. His back leaning on the wall, impatiently tapping his foot.
"Here," Suguru offered him a cheque more than enough to compensate the damage they did. "Sorry for the inconvenience."
The landlord harshly took it out of his hands. The amount made him give a very much satisfied hum but scoffed at them nonetheless.
The two made their way out of the apartment. Silence being the center of attention again as they walk through the snow covered road.
Not long after, Suguru's gaze drifted down to see Satoru's hands curled tightly into a fist, knuckles turning white.
"...It's not your fault."
Is he talking about the damaged property or her death?
Whatever had happened, it wasn't Satoru's fault. At least, that's what Suguru wanted him to believe, and perhaps, himself too.
"Satoru." He called once again.
This was the umpteenth time Suguru received silence as an answer. With every question, silence occured. This goes on until they reach the car they rented.
Suguru pressed the car keys which produced a nice beep sound.
Satoru opened the passenger seat and sat in there, closing the door after. Suguru followed, tossing their belongings beside his numb friend as he starts the car, letting the cool air spread inside.
Scrolling through his phone, Suguru furrowed his brows.
He went outside the car, his right arm leaning on top of its roof while the other hand with the phone was prompted high in hopes of reaching a signal.
"Tch," he clicked his tongue at the failed attempt. "Satoru, stay here. I'll go find a signal."
He didn't wait for his response for he knew it would be silence once again. The important thing is that he let him know before walking away.
Satoru was left alone in the car, left in his own thoughts. The memory from weeks ago invaded his thoughts, replaying over and over against his will.
The busy streets of Tokyo was not a surprise. From the towering buildings, lights emitting from every shop, friends and colleagues taking banters from each other, was a common everyday sight at the capital. Surely, this would just be another normal night.
Suguru sat by the window of the coffee shop, a warm cup of coffee resting between his hands. Every so often, he lifted it to his lips, taking slow sips as his eyes drifted toward the entrance, patiently waiting for two certain individuals to arrive. He arrived an hour ahead the appointed time.
Not long after the café door swung open. The bell above the door chimed as the person stepped inside. Pausing briefly to scan the room until it landed on Suguru.
"Yo, Suguru." Satoru made his way to Suguru, occupying the chair infront of him.
"You're early." he settled his half empty coffee on the table, looking at his friend who was also unusually early.
"You're one to talk," Satoru scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a grin. "Where is she?"
"Beats me. Still not replying."
"Must have put her phone on DND again."
The three of them agreed to meet at their go-to coffee shop, initiated by her.
For some unknown reason, whenever she invites the two, they would always be a lot earlier. To Suguru, it might be a normal occurrence for him because he has respect to nearly everyone. Still, he should have arrived at least five minutes earlier, not a whole hour earlier.
This might be a whole different case to Satoru. This guy has no sense of respect to punctuality at all. He'd never bothered arriving early for anyone else, yet here he was, waiting with time to spare.
Somehow, when it came to her, punctuality became an understatement. He found himself arriving earlier than necessary whenever she was involved.
The both of them just graduated last month, November. A lot different compared to the normal month students usually graduate. It's fine though since their school was an exemption.
If that wasn't unusual enough, the academy admitted children as young as three years old. Satoru could certainly attest to that, having been admitted at the tender age of three, one of the youngest students ever accepted. Suguru then followed at the mere age of four.
Are they even real? Find out and apply at,
It is Japan's most prestigious institution for the gifted and exceptional students. Basically for genius of the genuises. Admission is extremely competitive, reserved only for those who demonstrate extraordinary intellectual ability from a young age.
Unlike traditional schools, it does not follow a fixed academic timeline. Students progress based entirely on mastery, not age nor grade level. This allows some to graduate in just a few years, while others advance even faster if their capabilities exceed expectations, which allowed the duo to graduate early.
Unknown to the public, the academy also offers a classified program open only to selected students chosen for reasons, of who knows who, but only the government.
She, the youngest out of the three, is still yet to graduate.
"There goes our future scientist," Suguru muttered, more fond than teasing. He smiled faintly the moment he made eye contact with her.
The door opened with a soft chime as she entered the coffee shop in a soft, casual dress of her favorite hue.
Satoru quickly whipped his head around and wave frantically at her as he called her name.
Satoru's expression instantly brightened as he gestures at her to sit beside him. Unbeknownst to him, his friend gave a slight frown at his antics before quickly replacing it with a soft smile as she drew closer to them.
"Sorry, did I made you wait too long?"
Oh how he missed her voice.
If only he could have the chance to die instead of her, he would gladly take that opportunity. If only he knew that this would happen to her.
They were always up to no good. If only he knew what those higher-ups were up to. If only he was there to prevent her from doing it, to prevent them from doing it to her.
He should have been more cautious. He should have been more careful. He should have been more mindful. He should have paid more attention. He should have been—
The car handle outside rattled multiple times before a few knocks could be heard on the car window where Satoru was.
Suguru once again came and save the day before Satoru loses his mind again and do the unimaginable.
Satoru dragged a hand down his face, trying to steady the noise in his head as he reached for the door handle without looking. Click.
Suguru has the car keys, right?
The door flew open before his thoughts could fully form, his head snapped to the side.
A hand grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him out of his seat, his shoulder slammed against the door frame as he was dragged into the freezing cold, shoes barely touching the ground before he was thrown onto the snow-covered road.
A hand clamped around his throat, pinning him down.
The first punch came without warning.
A sickening crack rang, snapping his head to the side, his left cheek grazing the cold snow.
The second followed instantly, striking his opposite cheek.
The third buried itself into his abdomen, forcing a strained grunt from deep in his chest.
The fourth caught his jaw, his teeth slamming together hard enough for his tongue to taste a copper liquid.
The fifth drove into his stomach, stealing what little air remained in his lungs.
The sixth met his temple, almost knocking his vision of.
The last, and certainly the greatest, crashed squarely into his nose.
Warm blood spilled over his lips, down to his chin, staining the snow beneath him.
Yet, Satoru never raised a hand, not because he couldn't.
But because, somewhere deep inside him, he believed he deserved every single one.
Above him, the man glared down with eyes that burned with hatred and grief. His fist tightened once more before rising into the air.
Satoru watched it come, but this time, he mustered up the courage to lift an arm to shield himself.
He looks very pathetic right now.
The fist stopped, inches away from his face.
Instead of striking him, the man's hand trembled before dropping uselessly to his side.
A quiet breathe escaped Satoru's lips.
"..why did you hesitate?" he taunted, looking directly at the man with eyes devoid of life.
Whatever the reason is, he knows that it is definitely not pity, so what is it?
Satoru's body was far from recovering but there was enough strength for him to look at the man towering him.
Just who in the world is this man?
No doubt that this man is older than him.
Satoru could clearly see his deep black hair, but the color couldn't completely hide the thin strands of white hair peeking through the roots of his head. Must be an old man, but his physique says otherwise though.
Unlike the man's hair, his face was clearly not shown as it was hidden behind a black mask.
With a strained grunt, Satoru slowly pushed himself upright until his back rested against the side of the car. A hiss escaped through his teeth as he clutched his aching ribs.
Every breathe stung. That bastard probably cracked a rib.
Serves him right for just lying there.
He clicked his tongue, more irritated with himself than anything else.
"Oi," he called, his voice rough but steady. "Answer me."
He was beaten as heck and still got the confidence to demand answers to the one who caused his demise.
Well, whatever, he chose not to fight.
"Tch." the man just clicked his tongue in annoyance while looking at his watch, not sparing any glance to Satoru.
Without another word, he turned and walk away.
Is he really pitying him?
That question alone made his stomach twist.
If that bastard had stopped because he felt sorry for him..
Satoru would rather have taken the last punch. He would have preferred another broken rib over pity.
One question still remained in his mind though,
That guy didn't make sense at all. If he was tasked to assassinate him then he should have done it. Did someone call it off? A last-minute change of plans? A text saying, Abort the mission? Or maybe his client had suddenly decided that murder was out of budget.
Or maybe the guy has a grudge on him? He hadn't even seen the man's face. Yet he was certain they had never crossed paths before.
He would've remembered someone like that.
This had been their first meeting. Atleast.. that's what Satoru believed.
Finally, this is definitely Suguru now. No doubt.
How convenient, going back exactly after the man just left.
"What the heck happened?!" he hurriedly kneeled down and helped him get up his feet to sit back on the passenger seat.
Suguru grabbed a hold of Satoru's hair, tilting his head up the process.
Satoru's face was a mess.
Blood dripping out his nose. His whole face was almost red and swollen. His left eyebrows, his lips, his cheeks, everywhere.
What a disgusting sight to see that made Suguru hissed on behalf of his friend's pain.
Suguru went back the car to open the back door, the opening of the storage box and closing of the door could be heard.
He went back to Satoru with a first aid kit in hand. The zipper made a smooth zipping sound.
"What happened," it was definitely a demand, Suguru lightly tap a cotton bud filled with antiseptic on his swollen lip, making Satoru curse in pain.
Suguru finished tending his wounds, enough to temporarily alleviate the pain.
Putting the bag aside he stared at Satoru intently. He's still standing outside the car, his left forearm laying on top of the car, his head looking down at the man who was starring far away.
"Fucking hell, speak to me." He warned, with much hardness, gripping Satoru's shoulder, yanking it back the car seat.
It was really strange of Satoru to not speak, knowing that he is a man that was never out of words, but you can't blame him.
Change is inevitable, her death was not.
After hours of seemingly being silent, he finally spoke, "Someone punched me."
Well, no shit sherlock. If this was just a normal day, Suguru would roll his eyes at him.
Suguru's expression didn't change.
Suguru just sighed heavily, looking around anything but Satoru, to prevent himself from spouting things he'll regret saying afterwards.
Suguru was curious about something. Heck maybe even more curious than worried. He can't seem to stop thinking about something.
His tongue was itching to ask things that would most probably not make sense to Satoru.
"How many times did he punched you?"
Satoru looked at him with an unexplainable expression, "The fuck you mean how many times?"
"Just answer the damn question." Suguru's eyes never left him, waiting expectantly for his response.
Had the weight of her death finally caught up to him that he starts uttering senseless things?
"..Seven," the word barely left Satoru's mouth.
"He punched me seven fucking times. You happy now?"
Suguru didn't speak back anymore and went to the driver's seat.
It isn't clear whether Suguru got the answer he was looking for or if he wants to hear something else.
Satoru can't figure out what is wrong with Suguru, but at the same time, it was hypocrite of him to think of something like that when he can't even figure himself out, so what makes him the right to?
Neither of them spoke for the rest of the drive, though, the silence between them wasn't unfamiliar.
But today, it felt different.
The two was without a doubt good friends, best friends, even.
But as the days passes by after her death, deep down, something weird is definitely going on between the two of them that they just won't admit.
Neither of them knew how to keep moving.
