Osamu and I dated for nearly a year. I was madly in love with him. Around eight months in though, he seemed so withdrawn. He'd blank out for minutes on end. Even when he was right next to me, it never felt like he was really there.

His mind was elsewhere, and after hearing Izanami, I understand where it was. It was here, in Kyoto. It was with Izanami and the other girls he's married. Like Izanami said, Osamu's home is in Kyoto, and while I was forced to discover a new life for myself, Osamu still had a life he could take back. That was the difference between us...

I suppose now, I should tell you about the night our relationship died.

Osamu banged on my bedroom door repeatedly while I sat on the other side, hugging my knees and sobbing into them.

"Rousoku! Rousoku! Stop being like this!" he shouted. "What do you want me to do? I can't just sit here! Her mother passed away. I need to go back."

"You're not coming back here, are you?" I cried. "I saw your plane ticket. It's a one-way flight."

"...I'm sorry, Rousoku. I've been running from everything for too long. Even when I came here and met you, all I was doing was running. I can't run anymore. Not from this. I have to learn to take responsibility, but I can't do that here in Tara. I have to go back to Kyoto."

"I can't believe you're leaving me too..."

"Rousoku...I have to do this. I don't know how to make you understand. I'm sorry. I dated you when I wasn't ready. I should've been more careful and taken the time to think things through. I didn't know any of this was going to happen. It's just the way it all turned out. Now that I'm finally at this crossroads again, I can't choose the coward's way out."

"There's nothing for you here in Tara...but there's nothing for me in Kyoto. I can't go with you there, Osamu."

"I know. That's why I'm going on my own. You and I have two completely separate paths in life. That's okay with me. It hurts, but it's okay. Some people...just aren't meant to be together. Not for long. Rousoku, I'll let you do the honors."

"I can't!"

"Yes you can. You have to. I can't stay here with you, and you can't go with me. Life has already decided we can't walk the same paths anymore. So, say it."

"Osa!"

"Say it!"

I didn't want to. The words lodged themselves in my throat and sat on the edge of my tongue. I didn't want to. I swear I didn't, but I had no choice.

"Osamu...I'm breaking up with you. Please, leave."

I heard him crying and sniveling on the other side. It wasn't an easy choice for him to make. Just as he did when he tried to drown himself alongside Izanami, Osamu was acting on what he wished someone had done for him. His ex-girlfriend's mother passed away, and he sought to return to Kyoto to help her mourn her mother's passing, and to make right what he had left wrong back in his hometown.

"Rousoku...I'm only able to this because of you. You're the one that inspired me to make a change in my life. Don't forget that. I'm not leaving because I don't love you. It's because I'm the man you love that I have to do this. Goodbye..."

Osamu left his key to my apartment on the counter before he left. He took his one-way ticket and never looked back. I didn't understand what he meant back then, about him having to do what he did because I loved him. Looking back, I think I know now what he was trying to say.

The Osamu I fell for was bold and quick to act. He was thoughtful and passionate. Most of all, he was empathetic. He couldn't sit by while someone he loved was in pain. He was hard-headed and stubborn, and he wouldn't stop until he could help that person.

That was the man I fell in love with. And perhaps it's true, that if he had ignored his ex's suffering and disregarding the passing of her mother, he would've no longer been the man I fell for. He would've reverted to the helpless fool he was before he left Kyoto.

In reality, I was the coward. I was the one who had betrayed themselves and Osamu. On the other side of the door, I sat there balled up and soaked in my own tears. A pregnancy test sat on the night stand next to me. It was positive. I was pregnant with Osamu's child.

I didn't know what to do or say. I was terrified of everything. I couldn't use that to keep him in Tara. Even I knew that wasn't right. But I had no family to turn to, no friends to confide in. When Osamu left me, he unknowingly left his child too. I should've told him. I was just...so scared. I couldn't afford to raise a child on my own. I didn't know what to do.

And so...I suppose I should talk about that day. My final day.

I awoke to the slim strips of sunlight sneaking through the gaps in my blinds and glowing on my bed and skin. My apartment was small and humble, adorned with lazily thrown about clothes and empty bottles of water. The trash can in the kitchen was overflowing, but I never had the energy to take it out. I hadn't even cooked myself anything in a while. I always ordered food or just ate out. I didn't want to cook anything anymore. Things like that just didn't matter anymore.

I yawned and stretched my body out before staring off into space, watching dozens of glowing specs of dust float in the air, made visible by the shafts of light streaking through my window.

I thought...today is the last day. Today is the day I'll kill myself. I felt sadness, relief, anxiety, excitement, and fear all at once. I looked around at my kingdom of filth, my chaotic room, my balled up tissues by my bed, all representative of the state of my life. In shambles. I felt happy that I would be leaving this kingdom of filth, leaping into the nothingness of death. Or perhaps there was something after death, a heaven or a hell. Either way, I knew that anywhere would be better than here.

I sat on my bed, contemplating if I should write a note. But then I realized that I didn't have anyone left in my life. A note? A note for who? Maybe an apology to the landlord for all of the trouble of committing suicide on his property. Maybe to the people who had to collect my body, or the neighbors that would grow uncomfortable knowing their neighbor had died.

I took a deep breath through my nose and exhaled through my mouth. First thing was first. I badly wanted some water. I could tell just from the feeling of the carpet against my bare feet that I really needed to vacuum, but what did it matter?

I felt like a lifeless zombie as my feet dragged me into the kitchen, and my hands did all the work to summon me a glass of cold water. For some odd reason, drinking it burned my throat. Leaning against the kitchen counter, my head was swimming with nostalgic memories of the distant past, and painful memories of the recent past.

Three months had passed since Osamu left me. I hadn't received a call or letter from him since. He had disappeared, and knowing him, he could've been anywhere in the world. The only person I was able to confide in, the one who listened to all of my awful jokes and tragic stories, just up and left. I couldn't help but think back to our arguments, both petty and great. I could barely even remember what we argued about half the time. The other half...he always said I was unmotivated, far too timid and scared to do anything. I mourn and weep for things that have already been long lost. It takes so much energy just to get me winded up for the day.

I get it. I'm a leech, aren't I? He came into my life with the glory of an angel around him, and I sucked all of it dry.

I abruptly cut away from my memories. It may have been my last day, but there were still a few things I wanted to do. I had already bagged all of my clothes the previous night. Today, I was going to donate them. I was sure many more people could use them more than me.

My god, the sun was so bright and scary. I realized I hadn't really been outside like I should've. I always made any excuse I could to avoid leaving the house, so much so that I prayed for rain in order to feel even more justified in my isolationism. I descended the stairs of my apartment building and made my way onto the sunny sidewalk of the town.

A little shiver would travel from my back up to my spine as I passed by all sorts of different people, all walking with speed and gusto towards their destinations. There were so many men in suits, women in formal, but not too formal dresses, and regular folks who blended in with the scenery.

I had the bright idea of wearing all white for my last day alive, no pun intended. White jeans, a white, long sleeve thermal, and even a white hoodie, since I get cold really easily. There I was, walking with my eyes glued to my feet, trying to ignore my fellow members of society, right up until I made it three blocks down to the donation receptacle. Just like that, I wrapped my fingers around the blue, metal handle of the hatch that had been chilled by the morning air, and dropped my bag of clothes inside.

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And then it struck me.

"I did a good thing today.", I whispered to myself.

"At least...I think I did."

I was suddenly pulled away from own thoughts by the shouting voice of a man calling me from across the street. You see, right across from the receptacle was a multi-store complex. One of those stores was an ice cream shop that served all kinds of ice cream in all sorts of different flavors. My eyes kept track of the smiling, clean shaven man despite the cars that rushed by on the road between us. I thought he was calling someone else at first, but he kept pointing and waving to me specifically.

"Come over here!", he shouted. "Want some free ice cream?"

Free ice cream? Every bone in my body wanted to just politely decline, but...he did go through the effort of shouting at me from across the road.

"Sure thing! I'll cross over!"

At this point, I had begun to wonder what on earth had come over me. This wasn't something I'd ever do.

I made my way over, waiting for the red light ahead to halt the free flow of traffic before crossing over. I may have been suicidal, but I wasn't going to die on the road like a wild and unlucky squirrel. I already had a general idea of how I wanted to die.

However, I was also intrigued by this mysterious offer of free ice cream. The man was much taller than me, probably around six feet, and handed me a small little plastic cup filled with ice cream topped with crumbled up bits of chocolate cookies. He just...smiled and gave it to me.

"I'm giving out free ice cream to all the folks I can today since it's getting so hot out here, you know? I saw you donating clothes over there, paying it forward like a good girl. So, I thought I should pay it forward too! It's some of the richest vanilla ice cream you'll ever have, mixed in with a few coffee beans and chocolate cookie crumbs! Have it!"

In my fantasy of ideal hindsight, I'm sure I would've given an energetic reply with a flashy smile so precious you could see stars sparkle around me. But, as I painfully and realistically recall, I timidly hung my head in silence, a reaction he didn't seem to mind as he handed me the cup.

"You take care of yourself now! Enjoy your ice cream!"

"Th...Th...Thank you s-so much!"

Stupid Rousoku. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why can't you talk right under pressure? Man...but I digress. I figured, since I had it, I may as well just sit down and enjoy the ice cream. I found an outdoors table at the coffee shop down the way and decided I'd sit there. It was so cold and breezy, I could feel my hair lift and fall according to its direction. I had taken that first spoonful of the ice cream, thinking of all of the flavors at play that the man had described to me.

There was something so magical about it, something so beautifully heartbreaking, that I couldn't help but smile like a child. Every bite tasted better and felt warmer than the last as I let my eyes roam around the town, occasionally returning to the cup to see how much ice cream I had left. Wow...I ran out out of the stuff pretty fast. How many was that? Maybe ten, heaping spoonfuls?

"Ah...that was so good. What a nice guy to be giving out ice cream like that."

With all of the cars passing by the road, the swish and swoon of the trees bending to the will of the wind, and all the people who navigated through the streets, I grew a little more content with my decision. It was a beautiful sight, but it was something that just wasn't for me, something that I didn't think I really should've been a part of. But it was okay. I wasn't sad.

"Next...the bank."

Boy, do I hate the feeling of being stared at in very silent places such as the bank.

Braving through my fear of being outside for too long, I threw away my ice cream cup and made a quick walk over to the bank, which had just opened its doors for business. Upon entering and taking notice of the tranquil silence peppered only by faint whispers from the tellers to their customers, I began to wonder something. Banks, libraries, and churches. All of them have this sort of silence about them, this relaxing, soothing silence.

What exactly is the connection there? Sure, all of these places require silence for them to function properly, but does that mean that humans will only shut their mouths for money, knowledge, and God? Do they put on their best act of politesse for material, abstract, and spiritual goods? Yet, when they step out of those places, the people they were inside of them just stays there.

Money, knowledge, and God...no, no. That won't do. I can't reconsider my decision for those things either. Money is nice, I suppose. Knowledge is a good thing to have, but it's so easy to fill your head with the wrong kind of knowledge. And God? Abandoned me. I felt as if I had stood at the entrance the whole time while sinking in this little philosophical, internal rant of mine. So, I got on with it and joined the other peons in line.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting some more. Am I in line for a bank, or for a firing squad?

"Good morning! How can I help you today", asked the nice, middle aged lady teller. Her hair was all nice and pinned up like the classic image of a 50's American woman.

"Y-yes, I'd like to...maybe...shut down my account."

"Oh dear, are you not satisfied with our service?"

"Oh no, nothing like that, It's just that I won't really be needing it anymore. It would be troublesome for you if I kept it around."

"I'm so sorry to hear. Well, I'll need to run your account to make sure there are no pre-authorized debts, pending checks, or anything like that. Would you like us to reroute your balance to your new account?"

"No, that won't be necessary. I'd like to just withdraw my balance in cash, in the biggest denominations possible."

"All right, ma'am. Just so you know, there is a small account closing fee-"

"That's fine. Take whatever you have to."

"You got it, ma'am."

I don't know why, but closing my bank account made me sad. I guess my decision didn't really feel like it was happening until I did that. For an adult to get rid of their bank account...that's like throwing away the keys to life.

It's like shedding the skin of adulthood itself. You become powerless, almost invisible without a bank account of some sort. I felt that. I felt like it was really coming to an end, this miserable life of mine. After going through the necessary steps and boring procedures, my account was officially closed.

"Well, that's it then", sighed the teller as she handed me the envelope containing my cash.

"You seem so sad about this..."

"It's always sad to see a young girl like you go."

For a moment, I thought she was talking about my plan to commit suicide. But then I sort of mentally slapped myself in my mental face. Of course she doesn't know. How could a stranger know? She'd have to be an angel in order to know that.

The sun had positioned itself higher in the cloudless, naked sky by the time I got out of there. It felt like the day was in full effect. I held onto the envelope, counting the bills to make sure I got everything I was owed, minus the closing fee, of course. As my thumb flipped through the bills, my eyes caught notice of a small, white piece of paper among them. Perhaps the receipt?

No, it was a small note that the teller had stuffed inside for me.

"Don't look so sad, Rousoku! Whatever you're going through, I wish you the best of luck!", it said.

What? The teller clearly knew me to some extent. But I...I didn't remember her? I recalled that there weren't that many tellers working at that particular bank, so I'm sure I must've had quite a few conversations with her before. But I couldn't remember her. Not her name, not the subject of previous conversations, nothing.

I looked back at her through the entrance door, watching her smile as she served more and more customers. I so badly wanted to go back in and say something. Maybe a polite thank you or a goodbye. I even wrapped my fingers around the cold, steel handle of the door, trying to gather the courage to re-enter the building. In the end...I couldn't do it. In her own way, she was an angel, and I let her pass me by.

Going over the short list in my head, I concluded that was all I had to do for the day. Donate the clothes. Close the bank account. In reality, I wanted to do so much more, but I didn't really have the means to do any of it. I had always dreamed of having one more conversation with my parents, but I knew they wouldn't talk to me after the shame I brought onto them.

Their numbers had changed as well, so I had no method of even contacting them. I would've loved to call Osamu as well, but even he disappeared without a trace. I looked around at the other stores down the streets, wondering if, perhaps, I had any ideas for a last meal, or maybe a desert I wanted to try before I died. But after I had already had the ice cream, I felt like that desire had been satisfied.

"I guess there's nothing left to do..."

I'm sure I looked like a creep contemplating the risks and rewards of a heist, standing there in the bank's parking lot like that. It was time to leave.

Or at least, that's what I was going to do, until I saw a little girl standing on the sidewalk by herself, holding her pink cell phone to her chest as she anxiously looked around. She had such beautiful, black hair that draped over her shoulders and upper back. Her bangs were cute too!

She also had these side, twin tails in the front, each one tied with rubber bands with cute cat faces on them. She was in a school uniform, a plain white shirt and blue skirt. Plus, she had her backpack with her, so I assumed she was probably heading to class. Then I thought about it a little more.

The bank is already open.

I haven't seen any other students walking around.

She looks extremely lost.

"Holy crap, she's super late for school, isn't she?! She may as well just go home!", I said to myself.

I figured I may as well approach her and get her to wherever she needed to go. She couldn't have been older than 10.

"Uhm...excuse me-"

The girl yelped in startled fear, covering her face with her phone before calming down and looking me in the eye. It was easier for me to talk to children.

"Are you lost, by any chance? Where are you headed? School, right?"

The girl shook her head disapprovingly.

"Hmm? You're not going to school? Where are you headed then?"

"Mo...Mo..."

"Mo?"

"Momma's house..."

"Oh, so you're trying to go home?"

"I don't live with her, s-so it's not really my home."

Oh man...I felt so bad. It was clear her parents had a separation of sorts, but she still loved her mother and wanted to see her. I couldn't just leave her there, right? My heart was far too big and sympathetic.

"What's your name?", I asked with a smile.

"Shiyako. Yours?"

"Rousoku. Rousoku Himawari!"

"Ah, like "Candle", right?"

"Yep!"

The girl flipped her backpack towards me, showing me her name tag. Her full name was Shiyako Ohotoke.

"Shiyako...Ohotoke?"

Her face wrinkled as if I offended her greatly.

"Ohotoke? No, that's not how you read it!"

"Seriously!?" I replied in shock, mostly directed towards my own idiocy.

"It's read as Daibutsu, like a giant statue of Buddha!"

"Oh goodness, I'm sorry! Wrong reading!"

Scratch that. Her full name was Shiyako Daibutsu.

"Well, Shiyako, if it's okay for me to call you by your first name, shall we go get some breakfast?"

"I'm not hun-" Her stomach interrupted her and proved her wrong. "Okay, let's go get some food first.