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An average man wanders in the streets of Japan. As average he can look, given his white eyepatch underneath his long left bangs. It serves its purpose to cover up a terrible ‘scar’ when his bangs isn’t a reliable cover but by onlookers, he is a weird and “sane” chunibyo... whatever that is. He doesn’t look like he’s in middle school nor has he been to one. He doesn’t get it.
Surprisingly, that week is his break from the school he works at. The scientists think that he deserves a break for working non-stop with excellence as their assistant, to the point that it scares them so much and pretty much forcing him to take it. He wasn’t even tired or anything aside from occasional recharges but takes the break anyway. There’s nothing much he can do at home- his apartment unfortunately, so he prepared the visits he has planned before, packing all the necessary items in his bag.
He wears an open hoodie and a maroon scarf around his neck, all while tucking his long blue green hair inside both fabrics. He has a dark blue cap resting on his head, his fingerless glove on the left hand that he had rarely taken off aside from laundry and a pair of jeans and shoes to complete the wear. He checks if everything is in order, finally setting off on his little journey along the tracks to predestined stops.
╰ ᕦ ╯ ( O++O ) ╰ ᕤ ╯
He walks in a public graveyard at the edge of the city. The place still gives him shivers and uneasy feelings, but he shrugs it off as he has a task at hand. With a ladle and bucket that he borrowed from the entrance, he runs the water along the way as he walks.
After a few minutes, he arrives his destination. He cleans up the grave and pours water on the tombstone. He offers the incense sticks and a specific item from his bag and puts his hands together in a silent prayer. After that, he would talk to the tombstone for a long while, clear up the place and leave without a trace, as if he was never there. He was hoping to stay for more than he planned, to talk more about his strange life and the things that his friend loves he have learned over the years but the caretakers wouldn’t allow him staying for that long and to everyone in the world, in this form he is a complete stranger.
He repeats this tradition with other graves in other graveyards with the same respect, each differ from distance and offerings. Some took more time than usual to arrive at. He even have a few little insect passengers with him while making his visits, which he heavily appreciates the company and expresses to the critters with joy. He has been getting strange looks from few families visiting their own loved ones however. While he prefers to be alone when he pays his visits, it never really bothered him as they never bothered him.
That’s the best he could hope for.
╰ ᕦ ╯ ( O++O ) ╰ ᕤ ╯
The last grave.
The graveyard is in a more secluded place and far from the other ones he visited, which took him a while to find while preparing beforehand. He could somewhat understand the unfortunate circumstances. The information of the trial isn’t clear to him but it presumably ended terrible and ugly. He doesn’t understand why however, he should be the one thrown with hate. He did something terrible. It was him who did it. He was- is, the monster. Not him. He repeats the tradition from the other graves and after the prayer, he sits down in front of the tombstone, pondering what he wants to say. So many things to say, so little words that can describe how he feels. After a few minutes, he opens his mouth.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He internally cringes. He sounds too stiff and different. “You.... might not recognize me anymore. And I guess, you probably talking to the real me right now. I can’t visit m- his grave though. I don’t know where it is...”
He shakes his head and stares at the space around him instead. This isn’t about himself. Focus Konchu, don’t think so selfishly.
“It’s strange to see the world as it is,” he continues. “Not... dead. Full of life, green plants and trees, people and animals walking around.” Not red, nor brown, no desert like colors, no buildings showing signs of age, wear, and tears, crumbling and crashing down due to the devastating event, to the unnatural and natural destruction, the lack of people, no terribly lack of oxygen and a huge amounts of dust that makes it hard to breath- “Lively. It’s so different from what I remembered...” He glares at the thought. “No, what I saw. That wasn’t even real. None of those are real. It was a cruel joke- a terrible fake memory motive. I... shouldn’t have listened to you.”
He heavily sighs and laments silently.
The night when he gave up hope. The everlasting snow that seemingly froze in time as he reminisced the melancholy memory that will weight on him until the day he ceases to function.
He would breakdown and cry if he could.
“I was stupid. So stupid. It’s not like you also know it was a lie...” He pauses. It feels awful. The thought feels awful. “Maybe you do, I couldn’t tell. You’re always so... confusing and vague. Either way, I don’t blame you. You are important to me. You are my friend.”
He looks back at the rectangular tombstone, the name of the deceased painted in red with ten other names surrounding it.
“I love you. All of you. I hope you are doing alright, wherever you are in the afterlife.”
With that, Alter Ego Go Konchu grabs the fanta offering and places it in his bag with the rest of the items. He will give all of it to someone who needs it. It’s not like he can eat anyway.