Another two months had passed after his peculiar revelation.

Aoki Sasaki went to the publishing office for checking his judged result. He already finished and passed his work to them with unsure stricture, doubting himself from his utter luck.

“I wonder where they placed my name.”

It was the contest which most prodigies showcased their eligible works. His nerve-racking sweat pulled his uncertainty up. Each sap of anxiety pulled out of his beliefs. He looked around the list for his qualification. The names were even dense, which confused him to identify his result.

Gazing around the list, none of his name was present. His desperate feeling clouded his mind with zero trust. He puffed out of his exhaustion to focus every inch without surrendering to distress, but long minutes gave him no result. Every qualified prodigy opened their way while others stepped away for a bit—including Aoki. Thus, the qualification failed his chance.

“Guess I have to go back for now.”

Aoki left the place—empty-handed. Reddish dusk sky gave him a sluggish saunter while most people walked straight to their homes. Afternoon birds were chirping for an upcoming night. Every sidewalk made him helpless, yet it was his remedy to get his touch.

All he had left was his apartment and 5,000 yen—after he spent for sole necessities while Akari went for her joyous tour of leisure. She told him that her destination was London since the fortunes from industrious income benefited her with millions worth plus the advertisements she had gotten from previous span. Although he couldn’t blame her for an enormous fortune, he instead questioned himself about his rotten luck.

“Why do I have to go through like this?”

With his frowning lips, every mumble wished himself to find something worth to cure his apathy. He even intended not to accumulate it. But then, his parents divorced apart without retrieving their forgotten son. His highschool career dumped away despite the upcoming graduation. Akari almost helped him, but his apathy forced him to step out and gave his time to shine all by himself. And now, his talent was wasted. Because of lacking criticism and help, these were the reasons for his rotten luck. He palmed his face as he felt frustrated with no return left.

After wandering around the streets, Aoki reached the same restaurant where he took out his whooper last month. He ordered a different menu—which was chicken tonkatsu that cost around 1500 yen. He dined on it and left afterwards.

He planned to go back to the apartment, but his boredom forced him to head towards a certain manga cafe where he would take a seven-hour of manga reading; it cost around 1600 yen with bed and PC to surf around.

“Eight hours, please.”

He went through reception to grant his legal permission and stayed in his assigned room. Once he entered, the room was even cozy to think a convenient price sufficed for his leisurely enjoyment. There was a high-quality PC, comfy-looking bed, and gaming chair—to serve for him alone. Akari was touring around the city of London while Aoki was reading any manga he could find intriguing—at least, that was for his heavenly sake.

Once he got the most fascinating-found mangas, he sat on a chair with a PC—on functioning and wore the headset for harking some suitable, relaxing music from a certain music streaming platform. His first preference was “From Zero” which tells about a certain boy who struggled to find a situational solution through time-loop with his death while his goal is to save a certain kind girl whom every people in the society accused her as a witch.

What he read was originally from the light novel, but he preferred the manga version since he read the story through visuals and dialogues which were to identify its simple, imaginative immersion.

After Aoki spent hours—reading through many volumes, the amount of gore factor and tragic melodramas elevated him in a trembling mind. His tedious eyes shifted back to reality. Looking at his watch, it was past six hours after he recently registered for an eight-hours’ ride. The night sky signalled his supposed curfew, but he refused it. There was nothing to enjoy his last hours without satisfaction. He kept harking many melodic playlists as if he mostly despised pop music since it didn’t give him the purposeful lyrics. The genres he mostly preferred were remorseful metal songs and fantastical operas.

“Grgh~”

However, a sudden tingle within his mind urged him to throw the headset away from his ears. Aoki palmed his one-clenched eye for resistance, but it was futile. His groaning voice responded from the constant ache.

“—It hurts… it hurts… it hurts… it hurts…”

He hit his body on the bed to rest for the remedy, but the immense pain was tearing him apart—compared to the similar situation back when he faced himself in the mirror.  His enclosed eyes supported his endurance from the constant prickle, although there were no alternative ways to handle since his blurring vision depicted him with sudden questionable nature.

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“I don’t get it,” Aoki groaned. “For the second time, why does it happen?”

The twirl on his sight had appeared for correlation. He shook his head around to snap himself back, but the pang went severely. The mysterious, strenuous force choked him without a single cause coming from the tangible touch. He tried to regain his respiration, but nothing could help his body. His face gradually stained in an eldritch poster. His heart rushed its throb—in the worst case.

“Br… Br… Br… Br…”

His body was slowly falling apart—on the ground. His shuddering head tore him apart. His legs surrendered to the pain. His arms were no longer functioning. Blurring bubbles started fading in to overwhelm his crippled eyes.

His consciousness belonged away from his soulless flesh.

Seventeen years was the time of his life.

Is this it?... Akari.

From blur to blank, his death finished him with nothing to hear.

* * *

Akari finally reached back to Japan after her one-month tour in London. The sky of noontide depicted the time, comparing it to London. She had her luggage back and bags of souvenirs around her arms. It was a casual vacation for her and other friends which celebrated along her highschool graduation. She even got her documentary pictures, which served as her souvenirs to post on her blog. With her mask on, she covered her identity from social exposure since she had no time to take pictures with probable surrounding fans around the airport.

Akari went to the taxi section for her departure.

Akari smiled and waved toward her friends, “I’m going back to my apartment…. Catch me up next time.”

Once they bid their farewell, Akari headed inside the taxi for a ride.

It was the best time for her, along with her friends. Next year of her schooling journey would be college. Akari thought what her sole degree wanted to take with intriguing passion. She also hoped that Aoki finished his exhibition and qualified for his fresh start as a mangaka. Her excitement drew her to see his triumph. With her hopeful gleam, her expectations on him were wishful for his success.

However, something bothering her was his missing reply to her many texts. “How’re you doing?”, “How’s your exhibition?”, and “Please reply!” were her common phrases amid their private messages. Strange instances worried Akari to concern him. She tapped her head for a longing wait to reach him.

Until Akari reached her apartment, she immediately went to her room and checked around the next door.

Akari knocked on the door, “Aoki-kun, are you still there?”

There was no reply, even if it took many minutes to verify his status. Akari believed that he got out of his room for lunch. Overthinking with mental pressure elevated her worry. She frowned while thinking that he left his room with unpaid rent, so her solution was leading to the receptionist for sure indications.

Until Akari finally reached the desk, she asked for a confirmation, “Miss. Have you seen Aoki leaving the apartment?”

The receptionist shook her head, “No. Apparently, the staff got all of his stuff away to the storage room since he wasn’t able to return to his room for two consecutive months.”

“Wait!.... Why?! What was happening to him? “

The receptionist blew a gust and said, “Two months ago, the police reported that Aoki Sasaki passed away with strange causes amid the manga cafe. His body had been retrieved by the hands of police since there were no records of his families.”

After the receptionist explained his state, Akari widened her eyes as she heard the terrible news. At first, she doubted her statement, although it made sense why he hadn’t replied to her many texts. The remorseful feeling gaped her mouth while shaking her head and shedding her tears.

Then she rushed out, exiting from the receptionist. 

“What in the world… happened to him?”

As she was running with a blowing sound into her ears, the nervous wind sweated her with tears through her cheeks. Her desires to see him drove her with haste. She needed the confirmation in front of her eyes.  As she remembered where the location of the manga cafe was nearby to the apartment, she also reckoned it was the exact place.

Until she reached it, she proceeded without the need of hesitation—since her identity left exposed around the noisy society. Once she stepped inside, most of the police officers glanced at her while she rushed towards the police receptionist and ignored them mindfully.

She asked, “Excuse me, officers, but have you retrieved the body of Aoki Sasaki?”

“Aoki…. Oh, that boy. Yes, we got his corpse stored into the morgue here. Also, are you the person related to this kid? You seem to be a sister to him.”

She paused, gasping from his factual words, “.... No, I’m actually his caretaker. So please, I really need to see his body.”

“Sure, make sure not to touch him. If you do, we’ll consider you as a suspect of his case.”

She bowed to him, “Thank you.”

“Come.”

The police receptionist escorted her as she tracked him, leading towards the morgue. He granted the permission for her, so he asked the officer-in-charge for the depiction of Aoki’s corpse. As they agreed upon, they opened the door of the mortuary and identified the respective space of Aoki’s corpse. Once they had it, the officer-in-charge opened the chamber and dragged the corpse, laying down in a cold grave. He removed the white cover to reveal his entire corpse.

She gasped in a slow shock, “I–I can’t believe what it laid in front of my eyes.”

With that, she finally found Aoki with his dead eyes and absence of breath. The chill ice coated his soulless body. His out of touch missed their sympathy, but only to her. His friendless life caught into her heart. Their share of memories remained in her sole living diary.

She also recalled his eyes with eldritch-stained looks. It was horrendous for her when she visualized his face in a grim poster. Her hands shivered. Her eyes went teary by miserable sympathy. Her mind clouded with regretful insight. She knelt on the ground and palmed on the ground in front of the cold coffin.

Not so long ago, Aoki promised her by curing his apathy by himself—with her, but today, the lack of his words broke it. Countless failures from first to last shared into her recall. His desperate growth went backwards, and she felt the despair running throughout her veins and nerves as she saw him without his conscious presence.

The share between their promises was over.

At least, his death reminded him to free his apathy.

But the price was a bid of farewell.

Akari wept her tears away, “Please take care of yourself as I will do it too.”