Aki Hayakawa.

Or at least, what was left of him. What was once the love of your life was now a monster, standing in the rubble of what used to be your apartment. He was trudging over to you, and all you could think was: This is it. No more I love you’s, no more Goodnight’s. No more him. You closed your eyes, waiting for an impact that never came. Silently, he rested the barrel that was once his face against your forehead, as if to rest his forehead against yours.

As if still there.