Chapter Text
June 20th, 2PM
Yoshiki takes a bite of his ice cream, and hesitates, before turning toward Hikaru, doubtful in his own thoughts.
“Your not the real Hikaru, are you?”
Hikaru's pupils dilate, giving Yoshiki a wide-eyed, broken stare.
“Huh..”
“I thought I copied 'm perfectly..”
Suddenly, right in front of Yoshiki’s own eyes, his best friend's face starts to morph into goo, with colors ranging from from one side of the rainbow to the other. Its disgusting, morbid, even.
The cicadas buzz awfully loud, replacing Yoshiki’s swirling thoughts.
“I don’t want to kill ya, Yoshiki.”
Hikaru leans over his shoulder.
“Just promise to keep quiet about this to everyone. I really am starting to like ya.”
“Okay.."
June 20th, 7pm
Yoshiki slams the door to his house open, tracking mud into the house.
“Yoshiki!!” His mom wails, ready to scold him. “How many times have I told you to take youd damn—
He shoves his shoes off accordingly, throwing them off to the pile messily. Then, he sprints up the stairs, running straight to his room and shutting the door.
He stumbles into the bathroom, shoving his face straight into the sink. The cold water attacks his face harshly.
After twenty minutes of straight waterboarding himself, Yoshiki weakly walks out his bedroom and over to his bed, staring numbly at the wall till fatigue catches up to him.
June 21st, 12AM
For the first time in years, Yoshiki goes downstairs, kneels in front of the fireplace where all the ashes are, and prays. Prays for something — someone.
Yoshiki never prayed.
When he was younger, every Sunday, his mother would force him into the same old worn-out dress shirt and slacks, then force him and his sister — practically by the hair — into the car, and then drive down to the church.
They would stay for hours, surrounded by strangers and relatives he’d never met. Ones who ‘held’ him as a baby.
You couldn't really describe it as trauma, or at least he didn't classify it as that, but, it was like he was forced into it. He didn't have any resentment towards God, or Jesus, or anyone, really.
The only thing that bothered him was how whenever he didn't want to go to church, his mother would ramble on and on about the importance of god, and his relationship with god.
Of course, after the first time he expressed his dislike, as soon as they got there, his mother held him by the hand and told his very-religious aunts and uncles about how Yoshiki ‘hated god’ and ‘despises him.’ This made Yoshiki — at the age of seven, — very mad.
He had turned towards his mother, told her, “I never said any of that bullcrap!” with a very downturned lip and glare.
They all turned towards him, accused him of all sorts of things, like, “Oh, so now you hate your mother, too?” and all sorts.
Soon after, he got classified as the devil, evil child of the family, whilst his sister was praised for not being like him.
Anyways, Yoshiki sat and prayed, to see the real Hikaru once more, that he could suddenly come back and replace the fake, or something. He started to well up with tears — again — at the thought of how stupid this all was.
Yoshiki should have saved him.
He should have followed him all the way up to that mountain, and died instead of Hikaru dying! His whole family hates him anyway! Everyone loved Hikaru, and thanks to that fake, no one will ever know Hikaru had even died! He won't even have a funeral ceremony, or any flowers!
He should have prevented it all, he could’ve, but… but he didn't, and now Hikaru’s gone.
For the first time all day, it really sets in Yoshiki Tsujinaka’s mind that his best friend is dead. The only person who ever cared for him. The only person who truly believed that he wasn't a complete monster.