Chapter Text
Takemitchi stands on the balcony, leaning against the beam, tears flowing like a river but he didn't care, he wasn't afraid, he was ready to end it forever. Suddenly, the door opens quickly, through which Naoto hurriedly walked, but the other knew it was him. Who else would.
-I can't do this anymore. I did everything I could. They're happy.. I'm not needed for this anymore - With tears in his eyes, in which confidence seemed to be raging, Michi spoke. After these words, Takemitchi began to lean back down, into the empty abyss, perhaps the only one for his end.
-No! Hanagaki! - Naoto threw down the gun that had been with him the whole time since he entered this damned apartment. Screaming, he ran up to the guy, managing to catch him at the last moment and throw him to the ground. -Why!?.. - he shouted to the other with a trembling voice
- Because I can't do this anymore - there were no more rivers of tears in those blue eyes, but this was even worse. It would be better for him to sob than to look so empty. Naoto cursed this thought, he could never think that he would see him like this. It was so painful to see him so broken, broken, without a drop of the zest for life that he had once been full of. Naoto felt that he would no longer be able to live carefree with the thought that everything was finally good, that everyone was alive and happy, he would not be able to until Takemichi got rid of that dead look, until he saw on his face the same smile that fascinated him, that gave confidence and peace, that seemed to be able to protect you from everything. At that moment, the exact thought came to him that he would do anything for her return, for Takemichi's return, but not for the one who was now looking at him so intently without a drop of his former tears.
Only now was the green-eyed man able to carefully see Takemichi's face and part of his body under him. Why were there marks on him? Why did these wounds and bruises look as if they had been inflicted recently and had not yet had time to heal, and behind them was another layer of the same. There were so many of them, one might think that the guy continues to take part in battles and suffers defeat there every time.
Stop. Why are they on him at all? He immediately raised his eyes to the opposite ones, who had been watching him for a long time and his every movement, for some reason a certain uncertainty and shame were visible in them. But why?