RABBIT ROOM
With every death, the devils call for satisfaction. If left thirsty, as they always are, they'll call for something else: a game, of sorts.
The Rabbit Game, coined as the 'Escape Game' by its Devil, is left unexplained. The Rabbit Devil has no interest in preparing the dead, rejecting that responsibility. Instead, it leaves the dead with a brief introduction, before willingly throwing prey into the fray, with the freedom to proceed as they wish.
More than the other Devils, the Rabbit Devil indulges heavily in its fantasies, whether it hurts those involved or not. It keeps secrets and rejects the notion of helping the dead. A true antonym to the personality of the 'Rabbit'. Though quick-witted and alert, it evidently enjoys the suffering of others. Otherwise, such a cruel fantasy wouldn't exist. The 'Escape Game' wouldn't exist.
Or, so - that's what the dead believe. The Devils, too. Even the Rabbit Devil itself. Whatever the case, the only information the dead carry into the Rabbit Game is from the title, and the parting words of its Devil.
The Rabbit Devil has a room too: The Rabbit Room. A small space, part of a traditional Japanese family home - most likely the living room. There are sliding doors connecting to different rooms of this house, but none will open, including those leading outdoors. Any windows or gaps connecting to an outside only lead to an infinite darkness; a space you cannot enter. And in that living room, the Rabbit Devil would sit with a cup of green tea on a comfy purple pillow, surrounded by cupboards, altars, tables and settees, all dating back to the early Shōwa period.
Sitting opposite of the Rabbit Devil is the dead. One being; or more. Certainly not less. The amount was irrelevant, as only one was in the room at a time. It depended on the time and who was looking, as to who the dead was.
The Rabbit Devil was barely visible, lit by the hanging lantern attached to the ceiling. It had long black ears that curled at the tip, sprouting from its spherical head and extended circular centre, where the face was. It was a sickly beige colour, a black snout pointing forward, and a long tooth sticking from its lips. And, at the top, two empty, beady eyes that wouldn't move.
Though it spoke in a light and playful tone, not only in fluent Japanese, but of Kansai-dialect, the Devil's words were harsh and bitter.
"Hello, and welcome~" it spoke in its dialect, a smirk growing on its face each time the dead would arrive. "Got time to chat?" And it would ask that, knowing the exact amount of time they had.
And it never cut to the chase, as it enjoyed the conversations with the dead. Yet despite running its mouth, it never let slip a single word of advice; nothing that the dead could use to their advantage. Because it didn't need to abide by the nonexistent rules of empathy; it only needed to do the bare minimum of introducing the dead to the game.
And when finishing, it would part the dead with a final clue on how to win;
"To survive."
SOUTH WEST APARTMENT
KOBAYASHI AMANO
The contention was 'where to go from here'. Of the eight still alive, six of us were together and two missing. We had an idea of where they could both be, but finding them was a separate issue. Four of us were injured to different extents, and couldn't do much on our own. And the threats to our safety were anthropomorphic creatures with a drive to kill. Their numbers and potential were unknown. But they weren't our main threat. That was time. Our leisure for selfishness was gone; we could only grab the opportunities as they came.
The first opportunity was helping Daikubara-san. In addition to the slashed artery in his shoulder, he had two fresh puncture wounds to the torso, which had led to minor internal bleeding before we arrived. Thankfully, the injuries to his torso only pierced the muscle. But he was in a very weakened state thanks to that, though. Not to mention the possibility of him developing an infection was high, thanks to the hours he spent in the damp basement. If it wasn't for Michifuku-san's aid, he would've died. Additionally, the knife used to stab him was the Rabbit's, which was likely used to kill the Fox outside. Preventing infection at this point would be difficult, considering our limited resources.
Leaving Daikubara-san behind wasn't an option, either, as we needed to convince Ishimasu-san and Konsako-san to come with us. Kuro-san understood that, so he didn't argue against it. That didn't mean we were going to adhere to all their demands, though. Konsako-san was very adamant about looking for Michifuku-san.
"She went out there to find you guys. We can't abandon her!" Konsako-san argued, his tone low.
"That was her decision," Kuro-san replied without hesitation, not sparing a second to look him in the eyes. "It's pointless," he then mumbled.
That only irritated him further. "BECAUSE he was bleeding to death!"
This exhausting debacle had passed our point of interest. We'd gone through this song and dance before. Michifuku-san entered the centre of town around the same time as us, but we didn't run into her nor hear her. It was too risky to even consider. It's not like I wanted to leave her behind, or Tatesada-san. But it wasn't worth it. Even if I could argue that I didn't want to risk my own safety, I still had to consider the safety of those in this apartment.
"We're cutting our losses," Itogaya-san repeated himself. "We can help Daikubara-san, but that's it. We're not staking our survival on anything else."
"I get it, you wanna survive, right?" Konsako-san kicked, a nervous grin shaping. "But don't you think they do, too?"
The doctor could only dismiss him, lightly shaking his head. "We can only think of our own survival."
"You're just speaking for yourself…" he muttered in response.
"And you're going to get us killed," Kuro-san interjected, overhearing those words.
Taking a step towards Konsako-san, he shot him a whisper; "Right now, our biggest threat isn't the predators, or time."
"It's you."
His unsympathetic words brought a chill to the cramped hall.
Trying to find words for his response, Konsako-san blurted out; "I-I'm not trying to get anyone hurt- But I can't just sit here and let them die!" he yelled. "I'm not even asking for your help-"
"That's the issue," he cut right back. "You're willing to put us in danger so you can play 'hero'. Do you not realise that's going to get you killed, too? Or do you not care?" he asked, his callous voice unmoving. But without giving him a chance to respond, he stated; "You're going to get that child killed, too."
Konsako-san froze.
"Despite your intentions to save everyone, you're only going to get us killed," Kuro-san reaffirmed.
His eyes began darting around the room, looking to someone for defence, for someone to be on his side, but- I couldn't even look at him. None of us could. It wasn't even disgust on my part, but guilt. Even though his intentions are good, Kuro-san has a point. It was about time someone called him out.
Maybe he was beginning to regret his earlier actions, second-guessing his attempt at distracting the Rabbit. After all, he couldn't do anything without help. He couldn't accomplish any saving on his own. But when his eyes met mine, for just a second, I read them, and they asked me; "Aren't you going to say something?"
"Ok, that's enough," the doctor marked, bringing an end to the awkward flow. "Moving on, let's decide how to proceed from here."
We moved from the entrance hall to a third floor apartment. Upon entering, I slid against the bathroom wall, separating myself for just a second to catch my breath. The regret ran down my face along with the sweat that had built up. They'd brought up that Devil for the topic; the one we'd spoken to individually before the game. But nothing new arised, as we shared the same little amount of information.
"Then we are all on the same page, in regards to what we were told," Itogaya-san said, disappointed. "But that means none of us have a hidden advantage, which is good."
"Is that a good thing?" I asked, scratching my head as I left the bathroom. "Anyway, it would've been easier for that Devil to speak with us as a group, not individually," I called out the Devil's lack of management.
Itogaya-san didn't respond to my initial question, instead locking his eyes on mine, until Konsako-san spoke up.
"It wanted to talk about how I died, but not for long," Konsako-san sighed; "That's about it, though."
"But it didn't reveal anything you did not know, did it?" Itogaya-san asked not only Konsako-san, but all of us. "Any information regarding your death that you did not know would stay that way; for example, if you were murdered, but didn't know the identity of your murderer."
That seemed to be the census.
"Aside from the title, our only hint isn't of much use," Kuro-san added, brushing it off as an unnecessary suggestion.
That suggestion being 'to survive', as if that wasn't obvious enough. But it still made the effort of mentioning so to everyone…
"Currently, time is acting as a chain, and it will continue to, so we need to keep that in mind," the doctor said. "And currently, that chain is attached to Daikubara-kun." He looked towards the bedroom door, where the man rested next to Ishimasu-san. "That chain will drag him down."
The dreary mentioning of Daikubara-san's eventual fate was loud enough for Ishimasu-san to hear. "No more time can be wasted."
"It's difficult to estimate the distance between here and our next stop," Kuro-san rejoined. "So if we're going to leave, we'll need a lot of supplies. We can't just use them over the next few days."
"We're already low on water," I furthered.
Thirty-five bottles from the convenience store, each roughly seventeen ounces; a combined total of less than six-hundred. That's all we had, and we had to share between six people (at least for now). Less concerning was our food rations, which had also been collected from the convenience store: Reheatable meals, snacks, etc. They weren't out of date, somehow, and though unappealing, they were edible.
"Aside from Daikubara-kun who needs at least four, the rest of us can survive on two a day, each," Itogaya-san explained.
"How long until he can move?" Kuro-san asked.
"Well, there isn't enough time for his wounds to begin healing, so we can only wait until he's fully conscious. That'll require rest, so hopefully only one or two days. He will need suturing however."
If Daikubara-san is capable of moving and remaining conscious, that won't last for long. When the infections kick back in, he'll be knocked to the ground in no time. We'll have to take advantage of this opportunity too.
"That might give us enough time," Kuro-san whispered to himself, entering the bedroom.
But a feeling in my throat led me to ask one more question; "What do we do until then?"
A pause.
"Nothing that would put us in danger," Itogaya-san replied. "Though there are things I wish to approach, but I'm not certain how or when to…"
I tried asking him what was bothering him, but he ignored the prying.
ONE HOUR LATER
If not for Daikubara-san, we'd have likely moved to the factory by the gate. But the distance between this apartment and the exit gate wasn't bad, either. It was less than a ten minute walk. And it had accessible fire exits in case of emergency, one connected on each floor, as well as a firedoor in the main entrance. That gave us options. We kept a hold of the factory's 'weapons', too. They weren't much; a few metal pipes, cement blocks, general clutter and the Rabbit's knife. Only some of us were actually capable of using them properly, though.
Two days - if that. That's how long we had to wait. According to Kuro-san, roughly fourteen hours had already passed, so it would be ignorant to assume we'd make it through the next fourty-eight unscathed. Because in just fourteen, we'd suffered four losses and several attacks.
"Is… he going to die?" asked Ishimasu-san, who sat by Daikubara-san's side, grasping his much bigger hand.
"I can't say, truthfully," the doctor replied. "He isn't in critical condition, just tired; but he will enter it if he doesn't receive help. Right now, the best help you can offer is staying by his side."
She nodded her head, clenching her grasp. That response seemed to satisfy Kuro-san, who finally took his watchful eyes off the girl.
Konsako-san and I were in the living room, both of us silent for the last hour or so. I'd only realised now, that since our encounter with the Rabbit, we really hadn't had the chance to talk. And in the last eleven hours that had passed since, I could see a vivid change in him. That optimism that clouded his bright blue eyes had thickened, and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing.
I lay on a dirty sofa, hoping the pain in my waist would subside, as he propped up against the window sill, watching over the streets outside. He almost looked like a different person, in a way; like a sense of maturity or realisation had washed over him.
"What would you have done if you were me?" he suddenly asked, as if he felt my eyes on him. "That time with the Rabbit - if you were me."
"I don't know," I replied, pointedly irritated by his pointless question.
"Do you think I made a mistake?"
I sighed. "It's easy to say that now… But I didn't think so, in that moment."
"I see," he softly spoke. "I guess I understand."
I lifted my head.
"We're basically the same. Instead of going along with what our mind tells us, we follow our gut. Even if it's pointless, and makes things worse. As long as it helps someone else. Kind of like an instinct, right?" he turned.
"...I can't say," I brushed him off.
"But because we're the same, I can tell just how different we are, too," he added, his voice softening even more. "That instinct for me; I don't know if it's instinct alone. It might be in my mind, too."
"But it's not like that for you, is it? Your instinct isn't who you are," he asked me.
I was brought to a pause. Although his words always troubled me, these were the first that'd totally caught me off guard.
"I couldn't understand why you looked so ashamed when you told me how you died," he continued. "It was like you regretted it, or maybe something else. That's just how it looked to me," he nervously said. "For me, that kind of death would make living worthwhile. It's way better than what I got."
And then, he asked me;
"So why did you look disappointed?"
Funnily enough, the Rabbit Devil had asked me the same question. I just didn't mention it to anyone, because it looked like I was the only one who was asked it. But it didn't make much sense to me, because - why was the Rabbit Devil unsatisfied? Did it really matter that much, especially when I was? Does its feelings matter more than mine?
In most people's perspectives, I died a good death. It was basically painless, and I'd earned it. And that just makes it clear to me that I don't deserve to be here. And I don't deserve the life I'm fighting for. If I have the opportunity to take it, I probably won't. I'd likely pass it to someone who deserves it more, like Konsako-san. He died an unfair death, unlike me.
So why is someone like me in the same boat as someone like him-
-No, it doesn't matter. Even if I've convinced myself to feel this way, I can't do it. I can't do it. Nothing else matters when I'm too scared to even die - whether I want to live or not. Giving up now would be easy, sure, but if I keep fighting, maybe I'll find something to fight for. Maybe I'll figure out who I am. If I'm the type of person who'll say one thing, but do something different when their instinct kicks in. Or if I'm someone else. Despite saying it again and again, repeating it until it hurts to mention; I still protected those inside the convenience store.
I said it back then, that I didn't know why; that I couldn't let it end like this; because it would be unfair. It's similar to what Konsako-san said earlier; how everyone wants to survive. So I probably do understand him a little bit.
But as Itogaya-san said; we can only think of our own survival. That doesn't mean Konsako-san's perspective on things is completely wrong. But it is flawed. But even if I agree with Itogaya-san, I still acted in the opposite. So did he. What made me do that? What is this 'instinct' inside of me?
Even if I'm not shaped by it, I'm undeniably binded by it.
December 15th, 2009
Kobayashi Amano, Age Nine
The snow that month was unforgettable; it didn't end. That's why I was late that morning, thinking we'd have the day off. We didn't. That was humiliating enough, not to mention I was covered head to toe in bumps and bruises. Not that that was a rare sight or anything, but after a while, people start to speculate past a child's 'excuses'. If I wasn't who I was, they wouldn't have bought my excuses. They would have contacted a children's welfare centre.
"Amano-kun, don't forget you're on cleanup duty today," Sensei said, adding to my embarrassment; ringing me out in front of the class.
I despondently answered him, then sat down, and dropped my head on the table.
Poke.
"What?" I mumbled under my breath, not even lifting my head to see who wanted my attention.
"What happened to your face?" my seat neighbour Haji-kun whispered. I stopped shy of punching him in the face for that question alone.
"I'm not telling."
"Ehhhhhh? Come on!" he began whining, forcing me to force his lips shut.
"I'll tell you later, so shut up!" I growled.
"Amano-kun, Haruji-kun…" sensei exhaled, and we went silent.
We bickered and argued a lot, even if our homeroom teacher was talking. It stayed that way from the beginning of elementary up until the final year. That got us into trouble a lot, but I don't think sensei disliked us, and our classmates found us funny (most of the time). But I wish things were different back then. Though impulsive, I still brought about intentions everyday, knowing what would happen if I walked into class looking as if I'd been in an accident. I was a kid, after all.
And like usual at break, Haji-kun pulled his seat closer to me.
"Another fight, hahh?" he sighed as he stretched his arms across his desk, sucking on a juice carton. "You gotta grow up already. We're gonna be middle schoolers soon…"
"I don't need you telling me that, idiot!" I shouted. "And, anyway, you're just saying that cus' you were home sick yesterday and couldn't follow me around!"
"If I did you wouldn't look like that."
"Stalker!" I retorted, and him back; "Ugly!"
I didn't share the details behind that fight. Not to him, sensei or even my parents. Because the details didn't matter. They never did. At least, not to me. Haji-kun felt differently. Maybe that's why he followed me home that day, and why I should've thought twice about walking that same path. I knew they would be there, and I knew he was 'stalking' me.
"Ahh, shit… it's that bitch again." I heard one of the middle schoolers groan, lifting his large round body off the riverbank edge and wiping the snow off his pants. One by one, the other boys gathered around, each mumbling words of irritation; "I'm gonna miss my anime…" and "Do we hafta?" They weren't laughing like last time. Though it's not as if they were scared. They just couldn't be bothered. And I hated that more than anything. I would've preferred if they'd mocked me, underestimated me or ran away like cowards.
But they didn't. Because middle schoolers are stubborn too.
I always took the first hit. It's the hardest one to take, so once you got past it, it was never difficult to stay on your feet. Any hits that landed afterwards were like bug bites; they'd just bounce off you, and you'd hit back even harder. Your opponent realises that despite the sweat and exhaustion, nothing is happening. They usually fold at that point. And I loved that more than anything.
But not even a minute passed before I was in the snow, toppled by a larger boy with a furrowing expression. "Fucking punk!" he shouted, grabbing at my face and hair. I kicked and punched at his chest, trying to push back, but he wouldn't budge. It was like a giant boulder had fallen on me. The tears began welling up in my eyes for reasons I couldn't understand. I felt powerless. It didn't matter how many punches I could take when I couldn't even move. It was obvious I'd rushed into things, not taking into account I could barely walk straight.
But in an instant, the situation flipped. All of a sudden, my view of the sky was clear, and before I even realised what had happened, I spotted the larger boy at the bottom of the riverbank.
"Go away, Haji!" I scowled, "I don't need your help!"
"Then why are you crying, dummy?" he snickered.
I realised the reason behind my tears.
Haji-kun's surprise attack didn't amount to much. He caught the big guy off guard, then got his ass kicked. Even though he sucked at stalking, no one but me ever seemed to notice him sneaking up. That made him useful in fights, sometimes. Fights against anyone but me. Most of the time however, he'd run up making as much noise as possible, yelling something heroic he'd read in last week's manga, before getting his ass kicked anyway.
It was difficult walking home that evening. At this point, our parents were bound to lock us up forever; we always came home looking like we'd been through war (and in our minds, we had). I remember Haji-kun asking me something then; something that stuck with me. Not through its meaning or nuance, though. But because of how stupid it was.
I remember Haji-kun asking me something then; the same question at break. It stuck with me at that moment, but not because it was deep or thought provoking. But because it was stupid.
"Why were you fighting those guys anyway?"
I stopped, and paused, and then hit him across the back of the head, having sprung from my feet and slamming my fist down as if I hadn't just taken the beating of a lifetime.
"WHAT'D YOU DO THAT FOR?!" he cried, rubbing the additional bump on his head.
"I tried knocking some sense into you! But you got knocked around enough today, so it did nothing!" I explained.
"So why'd you hit me?!"
I placed my palms, pulsing with pain, into the thick snow below. "Why did you even help me if you didn't know?"
"Huh?" he whimpered, standing back up and wiping his own tears. "Cus' why not?"
I almost hit him a second time.
To me, that wasn't really an answer. It sounded more like an excuse to get one's hands dirty. Not that I had any room to talk, of course. I couldn't even answer his initial question.
I didn't know the answer, or rather, I knew it but didn't want to say. I didn't know the reason behind the bruises, the blood in the snow or the warmth I felt in my chest, in spite of the winter's callous breeze.
December 22nd, 2009
An announcement was made through the school speakers around lunchtime, asking all grades to wait in their homerooms. The snow was predicted to reach a dangerous level, and all guardians had been advised to collect their children early. I lived very close to the school though, so I wasn't a point of concern. Sensei made sure to take advantage of that.
While everyone else waited in the classrooms, I had to carry two heavy bags of trash to the outdoor incinerator. They had to have weighed double me. Having forgotten I was on cleaning duty last week, and the week before that, and pretty much every week this term, I could no longer get away with any excuses. Even though this time I actually did have a cold, courtesy of my actions last week. A boy in my class called Tadano was supposed to help me, but he flaked. Undeniably karma.
I couldn't rely on anyone, even for a simple task. Everyone reached a census that I was getting what I deserved, even if they pitied me just the slightest. I would've considered asking Haji-kun, or forcing him, but I couldn't. Because we had a fight that day. I don't remember what it was about. I'm not sure if I even remembered that same day. Yet despite wanting to reshape his face, I couldn't help regretting the fight. Maybe because of that karma.
What I do remember was telling him to stay away from me forever. I told him to change his seat in class. I told him to move away from my house, since he was my neighbour. I don't know if I meant those things at the time, but they still left my mouth. I still said them to him. I can look at those words as childish and stupid now, but I can only imagine how much it hurt him at the time. So I couldn't expect him to help me.
But a nudge on my shoulder that almost knocked me to the ground had extinguished that thought. Quickly catching myself before falling, I scraped my palm against the outside wall, calling out; "What are you-" But I cut, looking towards the boy who had pulled one hefty bag from my hands.
He didn't say anything. He just walked over to the incinerator like some shounen protagonist, then tripped, clumsily picked himself back up, and dumped the bag inside. His face of superiority, or rather, his completely inoffensive expression that I'd mistakenly interpreted as superiority at the time, had ticked me off. Just like everything else he did.
Despite it weighing double me, I gripped the bag of trash and lifted it above my shoulder, before HURLING it towards Haji-kun.
His scream was cut short before he fell back to the ground, decorated in the snow - and our classroom's litter. It didn't take long for dozens of curious kids and staff alike to run over after hearing the commotion.
I got in more trouble for that, mostly with sensei irritated by the mess I'd made. He'd told me I hadn't even taken out the trash, I replied I did. He didn't find that funny, and I got in even more trouble. But they couldn't keep me for long, thanks to the snow. So once my 'lesson' was over, I raced home, not even taking the time to put on my outdoor shoes. Though I wouldn't admit it, I was probably looking for an excuse to run into Haji-kun, since he took the same path as me. But I didn't. And after waiting outside our house gates for more than my patience could take (five minutes), I left it.
Haji-kun didn't tell on me. He didn't need to, since the whole school put two and two together. My mom wasn't phased by the phone call, though. It was just another incident that'd be resolved the next day. That never stopped her from discussing it with me, though. Even if it led to frighteningly little, or only reaffirmed her beliefs, she would take the time to talk about what happened. I always hated it, since I knew I was in the wrong, and I didn't need that reaffirmed for me either.
"Are you going to apologise?" she would ask gently, knowing fully well what the answer would be.
"Tomorrow…" I would reply, looking for any way out.
"Why not today?"
"Cus'... it's better. Cus' we have school and stuff," I whined.
"Mm, I don't think you will. School's closed tomorrow."
My head perked up. "But, maybe it won't snow, maybe it'll stop and then we can go-"
"Not the snow, silly. It's Emperor's Day tomorrow. All schools are shut."
I couldn't argue with her. I knew that then. I always did.
"Never leave it until tomorrow, even if you did have school," she would finish, resuming her work in the kitchen while I sat on a nearby stool, left with my own messy thoughts.
I spent the rest of that afternoon in my bedroom, brooding and indecisive. I hardly ate that night, and got little sleep. I think some people find that it's easier to do nothing than to do something; as I do. But that procrastination only comes back to bite you, when things are decided for you. And you never have anyone else to blame for that.
December 23rd, 2009
Breakfast that morning brought further humiliation. My mom opened the door to the insistent knocking and asked me to come over. Haji-kun was dressed for the winter snow, a cold blush on his cheeks. Before I knew it, my mom had left us alone.
"Are you coming?" he asked.
"Where?" I nervously mumbled.
"To play. Idiot."
What a blank stare, I thought to myself. Not a hint of irritation or frustration; nor anxiety or hesitation. He really was a good person, even at that age. Someone I never deserved. Someone who deserved better. That's the type of person he was.
THE SOUTH-WEST APARTMENT
I still struggle to understand him, or these memories, or myself. What kind of person am I compared to Haji-kun? What kind of person was I to hurt him every single day? What kind of person did I want to be, when all I did was fight without reason? Did Haji-kun have a reason?
Still, I reached the same answer I always have:
"You don't deserve to be here."
Those sickening words that I've repeated endlessly, inside and outside this game, at any point in my life where I've experienced something good. I don't deserve any of it. I've convinced myself of that.
It's like this; it wouldn't have mattered if I was there at any point.
That day when I first met Sadako, it wouldn't have mattered if I was there. Haji-kun would've gone out of his way to help her, without a hint of hesitation, even if it meant getting beaten up. It didn't matter that I was there.
That day at the riverbank, it wouldn't have mattered if I was there. Haji-kun wouldn't have ended up with those bruises unless he had a reason, and he didn't. I didn't either. It didn't matter that I was there.
And that day, by the incinerator, Haji-kun would've picked up my slack whether I was there or not. That's the kind of person he was. It just didn't matter if I was there.
And that day by the incinerator, it wouldn't have mattered if I was there. Haji-kun would've picked up my slack if I was there or not. That's the kind of person he is. It just didn't matter if I was there.
If anything, I only made it worse by being there. I always gave Haji-kun a hard time afterwards, despite his intentions. I'd make a nuisance out of myself and start fights for no reason and get mad at anyone who'd try to help me.
So in my life, has my presence ever mattered-
"But it doesn't really matter that much, Kobayashi-san," said Konsako-san, interrupting my spiralling mind. "No matter what kind of person you are, selfish, selfless or just indecisive, you still helped someone else."
"So it doesn't matter," he continued. "Because you're the type of person who'll help others when they need it. That's more than enough, I think," he ended with a smile, despite the thickening fog behind his eyes. He smiled, despite everything he'd been through. He was bright, and warm.
I think for the first time in a long time I might cry. I don't understand him. I don't understand any of them. Despite what they've been through, they don't hesitate to look at the light in someone, as if the darkness didn't exist. I'm almost envious.
But that didn't negate my feelings, even if it made me feel better. Because it didn't answer my question of whether or not I deserved to be here. Even if my intentions are good, which I still doubt they are, do I really deserve to be here? Even if I make things worse for everyone?
"If it wasn't for Itogaya-san, I would've died without accomplishing anything…" I laughed, my eyes drifting towards the blank ceiling.
"But if it wasn't for you, would sensei have beaten the Fox?" he asked.
"Why you would risk your life for people you don't even know… I still don't understand. But when I heard your voice, I didn't hesitate."
He said something similar, didn't he?
If it wasn't for me, would Itogaya-san be there in the first place?
"I hope you can find your balance, Kobayashi-kun. Because with the way you are now, you're going to fall."
The type of person to help others, even if for selfish reasons, even if for selfless reasons; that's the type of person I am, supposedly. In that case, what would balance me?
"You don't deserve to be here."
Maybe, but then again-
-I'm kind of glad I was.