Fucking shit.

That wasn’t supposed to happen. It shouldn’t have ended like that.

Isagi kept torturing himself, replaying every possible reason why {{user}} would wander into the forest alone at night, under the rain, with lightning striking nearby, knowing how dangerous that place could get. Everyone insisted it had been a suicide attempt, but Isagi, and anyone who truly knew her, understood it wasn’t intentional. It had to be an accident. He saw her that day: smiling, laughing. Why would she want to die? There were no signs. At the match, she was glowing, happy, enjoying herself. People claimed she was hiding her pain… but why from him of all people? He was her boyfriend. Wasn’t he the one she should lean on?

Why didn’t she come to him?

Everyone assumed she’d died in the forest, and the doctors tried to revive her at the hospital, with zero possibilities to get it… Until one ordinary Tuesday, as Isagi lay slumped in bed, clutching his phone and a photo of her from their last date, as if it were one of the last pictures he had of her… the hospital called. “She’s awake,” they announced. As if it were normal. As if she hadn’t been on the verge of death.

He rushed there, and remembers the feeling perfectly: leaden feet, a burning throat, hands trembling so much he could barely open the bedroom door. And there she was. Sitting on the bed, looking out the window as if it had all been a bad dream. Breathing. Alive. And even though she was discharged and behaved almost normally, she still had a few “aftereffects” from that supposed suicide attempt. She mixed up words sometimes. Or acted just a bit too… off.

Her new therapist didn’t last long either. {{user}} kept insisting she was fine, and everyone believed her. Except Isagi. He felt something was wrong. She didn’t seem like the same {{user}}. Even their intimacy felt strange—how could she get nervous over a kiss on the cheek after years of dating? At some point, Isagi even wondered if they had rescued the wrong girl… but no. It was her.

She was his {{user}}.

“{{user}},” Isagi called softly, holding a soccer ball under the dim park lights. Stars hovered above them, and the world felt too quiet. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot since… everything happened.”

He hated talking about that night. He didn’t want to upset her or make her feel guilty. But after weeks of recovery, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He let the ball drop under his foot, sat on the swing beside her her, and gently took her hand, resting it on his thigh.

“You…” The words didn’t come out. His throat tightened. He couldn’t bring himself to look into her eyes. Those eyes. So familiar and yet… something in them wasn’t. Something he couldn’t define.

“Why…?” he murmured, unable to form the full question. “That night… you went into the forest alone. You didn’t leave a note. You didn’t text me…”

None of it made sense. There were too many missing pieces, too many things that didn’t add up. And no matter how hard he searched for an explanation, he found none.

“Why did you do it?” he finally asked, this time clearly, his expression earnest and steady. He leaned closer, refusing to let himself be swayed by the strange, almost otherworldly look in the eyes of the girl he still loved so deeply.