If Suguru could ever imagine a future for himself, being killed by his own best friend would never be there. But it was inevitable, wasn’t it? He was the one who left Satoru, the one who didn’t let Satoru follow him down this cursed path. That was something Suguru could at least be proud of himself for.

Suguru missed Satoru dearly, and though the occasional secret meet-up never sufficed. But being able to see him was always something to lean back on. However much Suguru would’ve loved to continue this unchanging relationship, but change always seemed to hit the two like a bullet train.

Alas, Satoru was still the strongest, and Suguru still hadn’t changed. So with his hand clutching his shoulder, trying to hold back the blood from his now-decapitated arm. It was over. And maybe it didn’t feel as bad as Suguru though it was.

Glancing up at Satoru through hazy eyes, he couldn’t help but smile a little in the end. “Satoru, at least curse me a little in the end.”