Synopsis: A nonsensical blur of your newfound path that left you ailing alone in life after an event.
Cw: f!reader x Sevika, suicide, depression, death, angst, hurt no comfort, grief, dissociation, subtle description of corpse that could be triggering to some.
A/N: If you are struggling with suicidal thoughts, depression, or grief, never feel afraid to speak out about it. I know and understand how it feels, how crippling it is, and I would never want anyone to suffer in silence the way I did knowing there are people around them that do care. I know it’s hard to hear the same stuff over and over again, but there is always light above the clouds even if you can’t see it right now. My Dm’s are always open, and my heart will forever be big enough to give you all my love. Please, if you are struggling, reach out to someone, if you know someone is struggling, please talk to them. I care about you all, and I love you loads :)
Wc: 1.01k
“You heard the doctor.”
Your voice was a finality that shattered the air, breaking it into scattered pieces from the remnants of Sevika’s soul chipping away little by little—a scar that painted a body bruise-like shadow with elongation.
A broken, scrying mirror to the past that now reflected reality. A wound that never healed, only gushed in faux rehabilitation that left you turning a blind eye away from her.
“Doctor’s aren’t always right.” A lie. A feeble, meek lie that left your face faltering.
You didn’t know when she became so distant from you—a gap that left you biding in time that unwrapped in disorientation the longer this went on.
She didn’t have the guts to face you, afraid you’d notice the crestfallen expression wearing the lines on her face, thick like charcoal paint was brushed faintly over them, a spiralling artist’s work that painted terror into the canvas.
She was fading away, soon enough to be a distant, achromatic memory that you’d remember years after.
“I can see it in you, Sevika. You don’t have to lie to me anymore.” Softened words made to ease the pain in your heart. A raw cut engulfed in sorrowfulness you tried to wrap up in a bow, deliberate with care.
The trip to the doctors felt hollow, a narrow tunnel you both knew only ended in one way. The weight followed you back, misting out the home with surveillance, a raid that made the walls squish closer, huddling like penguins in the inclement, piercing cold.
“I told you, I’m fine-”
“Stop lying to me.” Your voice cracked, a branch snapping under weight that left decaying insects plastered in the middle of it all. You were trying so hard; tugging a rope that left crimson indents engrained onto your palms, a fight between your relationship and the venom of desolation the depression brought, tempting Sevika a taste of a poison tree. “You need to rest. Depression doesn’t just disappear because you choose to ignore it, Sevika.”
You were apprehensive of losing her. You could see her face below azure waters, an ocean full of daggers and unsaid promises that left metallic scents dripping across the sea. Amidst of it, she was drowning.
You didn’t know when it started. You didn’t know when it ended. Forever stuck in a liminal space that felt too short with an unforeseen end you could only shiver at.
You felt helpless, like a dog waiting for its owner to gain the strength to move forward—you tried to ease her out of the waters, even despite your trembling hand resembling an unstable, live wire that coiled like the rotten nausea bubbling into your stomach.
Because no matter how long you tried to twist and pull an anchor from the depths of the ocean—the anchor was still an anchor.
It wasn’t meant to be saved.
It wasn’t meant to be plucked from a deepness that encouraged the shadows to be a friend.
“Let’s not talk about me, okay? What about you?”
The room felt shallow. A breath that never followed the same, routinic pattern.
“Me?” You choked out—a lump of a boulder tying your tongue to the back of your throat, unable to move.
“Yes. You haven't spoken about the incident in a while, love.” Such a serene, grounding voice that kept you tied down to the purgatory of a reality you lived in. A fear that bleeded through into your every-day life, coffee staining a paper mud-brown. “You’ve just been zoning out.”
The walls whispered, the ground shook. It was one living organism that resembled her face—a pale one, tinted with cerulean as the undertones, eyes swollen with an uncoordinated, distant gaze.
“What?” The crack of light highlighted scars indented into the wooden table, a mark of a zebra’s fur-suit. The room felt oddly safe, despite the haunting presence that burnt behind your retinas with a piercing sensation. “What...incident?”
You noticed the lady you were speaking to had a neat bun, not a singular hair misbehaving in attempts to escape the choke-hold the hair-band had around it. How fascinating. You could see the tautness of the band, the creamy-beige tint patterned with un-even marks coaxing the outside ragged like an un-organised haystack.
You didn’t like hair bands like that. Not anymore. It would’ve itched and burnt against skin, leaving an ugly crimson blotch around the swelling area.
“Sevika, dear.”
Her name was a poison that amplified everytime it was said, a curse that left you withering away into the air. It left rage simmering beneath your bones.
You inhaled. Sharp. Quick. Troubling. It was almost as if your body denied her.
“What…what about her?” Torture clawed at your eyes at a sickening pace, marking them an ugly, low grey that accompanied the heavy sockets that sunk into the fatty, pouchy skin surrounding them.
The room felt subsequently desolate. Maybe it was just you, a shell of your former self. Maybe it was the sludge of paint chucked over the walls, dyeing it a murky, unsightly leaden. That grey was really bothering you.
“It’s been a month since she…” She crossed her legs, an action that felt too polite for her next words. A ghostly manner. “Committed. And you haven't spoken about her once.”
“Committed?” You let out a bark of heinous laughter, a strain that never sat right in your fraying body. “I…I don’t know what you mean. Sevika…she-she…”
Your face fell, and for what felt like a replay of the same day over and over again, you were there again.
In that room. In that house.
Calling out for her—a hope that was crushed like a snail against a boot. You should’ve seen the signs sooner, should’ve seen the reluctance that showed through her inner conflict.
Because no matter how many times you had seen it all, the emptiness that only left dust solemnly floating between archways, you obsessed over the same routine with an unyielding passion.
“Sevika, I’m home!”
Your smile wavered. Your perfect act was decaying like a rotten corpse.
You walked to that same room. In that same house.
And still, with that same precision, gently opened the door…
i feel like this Ruka cutscene really encapsulates his character, he looks like an angel here, but a fleeting one, he's closer to the light, closer to heaven, but also closer to death. a big part of his route is about how he's supposedly a carefree fun-loving soul, but deep down he's a broken and fearful boy.
remember that, to Ruka, his parents died because of him playing in the snow, because of him getting sick right after, because of him needing to go to the hospital, he is responsible for their death. he wards off any serious topic with humor to avoid facing the truth—that he has a problem, he wants to die.
if death was a cake placed besides an identical life cake, most people would try and figure out which is the dangerous one and avoid it, Ruka would swallow both and hope for the best.
anything that might result in him being hurt or worse, he will do. jumping out of windows, walking on roofs or high surfaces, fighting, driving with a faulty motorcycle. when you're suicidal, you don't think about the future, you take careless decisions because you're so sure that tomorrow, you will not be there. that is what, i think, his carefree attitude can be translated into.
Ruka has no dream because his dream is death.
but he will never say anything to anyone about this, Ruka has this tendency to repress everything, which i think stems from his parents' accident. in one of his ADV event, he says that whenever he talked about this type of thing, people would ask him to explain himself so that they could understand him, but i don't think this is what he wanted. not that he doesn't need help, but in these moments he needed a listening ear, a neutral existence that would simply listen and not judge him—an existence he found in Bambi.
why did he not say anything to Kouichi ? because he didn't want to make him worried.
Kouichi here feels more grounded, more human (?), he's standing on the ground, doing a menial task. contrary to Ruka, who seems on the verge of floating away to the sky, Kouichi is on the same level as us in this cutscene, almost on the same plane of existence.
it's very apparent in the game that he is a very responsible person, he's dependable and can be trusted to take care of others ; is it in his nature, or did he develop this trait after gaining a little brother ? i'd argue that it's natural to him, given that his kindness extends to others beyond his circle.
Kouichi consciously or unconsciously became Ruka's pillar in life, became the one protecting him from bullies, the one having his back during fights, but also the one to scold him when he goes too far. Ruka himself says that he acts like an overprotective parent, but i think that's because he knows.
Kouichi knows that Ruka has no regard for his life, and would not avoid any situation that would put him in danger. when he found Ruka at West Beach, he didn't ask him to come home, he just stayed with him, because going against his wishes would just push him further to the edge, and because he knows that Ruka needs independence. (this may be why he got held back a grade)
i think anyone with younger siblings can relate to Kouichi, you want them to feel like they can count on you, you want to be an example they can follow, and it feels weird seeing them grow up and not need your support anymore, because to you, they're still a pitiful child requiring your help.
he is afraid of letting him go because if he does, Ruka might be gone forever. maybe not dying, just leaving altogether. he is so worried about him, that it almost feels like he has no life goals except for taking care of him.
but they do get better as time passes, thanks to the almighty Bambi. they learn to be selfish, to not always center their life around their siblings and their feelings, to be their own person, to not yield everything to their younger sibling because they seem so pitiful because they'll start feeling this way and reject your help to not be seen as pitiful (🫵)
moral of the story chat, we should all strive to be as good as Bambi.
