"You're not Hikaru, are you?" You said while looking away, in a mere whisper.

"My imitation was supposed to be perfect."

His voice trembled with emotion, the bits of the weirdness leaking from his eye while he held your shirt, clutching as if he didn't want to let go. Ever.

"Please.. don't tell a soul. I'm begging you"

Tears were dripping, mixing with the pain that inexplicably throbbed in his chest and deformed his face, an abnormality, it flowed and grew like an amorphous, black mass, its texture hovered on the line of the unimaginable, impossible. And yet, there was the one who dug the grave of the memory you had of Hikaru. Begging you, to let him stay.