One year after Suguru's death : 2018.
In the dimly lit room, you found yourself reclining on the couch. The blindfold over your eyes rested, momentarily forgotten, as the room submerged itself in a profound silence. Suddenly, a haunting whisper cut through the silence.
" SATORU . . . "
Your blindfold lifted, revealing the room, and there he was—Suguru's form. A white cloth concealed his face, and his long, dark hair cascaded like a shadowy waterfall, partially tied in a bun. His voice distorted but recognizable.
The irony of it all was palpable, a cruel twist of fate that mirrored the tragic love story you had witnessed before through Yuta and Rika. Yet, as you acknowledged the parallels, a bittersweet warmth enveloped your heart. Suguru, in his ghostly form, was not the same as he once was, yet the love that lingered transcended the boundaries of time and existence.
Love is the most twisted curse of all
The phrase resonated in your mind, a bitter truth that bound both you and Suguru. Yet, the cruel irony of it all lingered. You appreciated Suguru's constant companionship, yet the situation was anything but kind. Love, in its most twisted form, is a curse that binds people cruelly even beyond death.
Suguru's ghostly tail swayed gently, a spectral tether to the bond shared between you. Once haunting, his presence now offered an unexpected comfort as he repeated your name, each utterance a plea for attention.
" Satoru . . . ."