Chapter Text
Today was the day.
The sun was bright, rays of light casting down on the lush forest as Yuuta walked on. In the serenity of the environment, one could easily find peace amongst the birds that chirped and the critters that crawled across bark and moss. Fallen trees became homes for woodland creatures, and moss grew over the decay of the old, death new soil for green to thrive. A chipmunk scurried past his feet, unaware of the bluejay perched high above.
Would it really matter if one’s role was cut short?
A child losing a mother. A sibling long departed.
A partner taken too quickly.
Loss did not vanish just because the world kept turning.
Leaves crunched beneath his feet, and the trees shivered in turn, branches whispering as the forest sang its tune with every step forward. The sun lowered gracefully, spilling light that softened into warm golds and pale ambers, stretching shadows long across the earth. Thin clouds blushed pink, drifting lazily across the cooling sky.
She would have liked this view, he thought.
He wonders what she sees now.
Yuuta made it through the clearing, blinded by the sudden onslaught of light.
Does she see him?
The trail continued forward, dirt changing to gravel as he trudged on.
Jigoku-nozoki presented before his eyes, a high-edged cliff turned tourist attraction, revered for its serene and unsettling view of the Tokyo prefecture. The view of hell hangs heavy with expectation, yet the sight that slowly reveals itself as he walked toward the cliff’s end refuses that cruelty. The land stretched below in quiet submission, vast, touched by a beauty too gentle to deserve such a title.
But he has not reached the edge yet, has not felt the height take hold of him or allowed the wind, the silence, to ask their questions.
It’s fitting, he presumes, that this should become his resting place.
Today was the day Yuuta Okkotsu was going to end his life.
It hadn’t been a sudden decision. A sequence of events had gotten him to this point. Since childhood, he had always been searching for something. With Rika, pieces had begun to fall into place. She loved him completely, clung to him like he was the one thing she needed for survival– like he was the blood in her veins, the reason her heart beat on.
And still, something remained hollow.
A loneliness that never lifted. Even when surrounded by Rika, Rika, Rika, there was an exhaustion that weighed on him. And yet, she had always been there– so how could he be alone?
It had been picture-perfect… until it wasn’t. His family had disowned him long before he knew how to make it in this world, all because he had chosen to marry the girl he’d been with since childhood.
“You’re a little too young for that, Yuuta”, they had said. But how could they understand? Rika had always been there.
He didn’t know a life without her. From the moment she crossed the playground toward him– small fingers closing around his hand, her voice declaring them inseparable– she threaded herself into every corner of his world, into every reflection that looked back at him. Life was Rika, and there was nothing beyond her.
Even when darker thoughts stirred deep in his soul, he could never hold them for long; Rika would not allow it, pressing herself to him like a living warmth, like a bee drawn unerringly to nectar. She kept him together simply by staying close, drinking in his affection as something she was owed, a flower blooming above him.
He let every other relationship fall away to keep her warm, and she did the same– though she had little to lose to begin with. He was all she had, and to keep the balance unbroken, she became all he was allowed. His sense of worth bent to her hands, shaped and reshaped to fit her desires. He learned to measure his existence by her needs, to draw breath only because she required it.
Then she died, carrying with her the last fragile fragment of his purpose.
The loneliness she had kept occupied through her insistence surged forward, stifling and uncontained, until he was drowning in it. This time, she wasn’t there to hold him upright, to dull the suffocating noise of doubt and thought. Nothing softened the weight pressing in on him now.
The edge drew closer.
Instead of the emptiness he had expected at this hour, the silhouette of a body caught his gaze. At the very tip of the cliff, occupying the spot he had planned to stand on, sat a woman, her hands dug into the regolith. The breeze ruffled her clothes, but her posture remained disquietingly still.
The sight of someone else here at this hour did not startle him entirely. It was the recognition of her identity that made his fingers tremble, a need to catch her in lest she slipped.
A fool’s errand.
He could not see her face, but the ease in her form told him she was not here for the same reasons he was. Why would she be? For all he’s known, Maki Zen’in has always been strong.