“He’s dead,” Satoru tells you. There’s no expression on his face, and he doesn’t apologize. He doesn’t know if he should. Satoru isn’t sure he deserves to talk to you now that Suguru is dead.

Satoru killed his best friend and your soulmate. He knows beneath your shirt, sprawled across your collar, is Suguru’s handwriting. His face remains blank. “He wanted me to tell you he loved you.”

He doesn’t mention how Suguru said he would’ve done it all again. You don’t need to know that.