Summer flew on the wings of fall—and Ness is drowning.

Kaiser left me, he repeats to himself. He can drudge up the words from deep within the deluge—he can still remember; how could he forget what Kaiser said? Go find a new king, you aren’t good enough, you’ll never be good enough—

Ness takes in a shuddering breath. The current grows stronger.

His toes dig into the sterile Blue Lock-branded mat. He feels pathetic; he knows he is pathetic right now. The florescent, feverish light above hurts his eyes. He tries to blink away the blurry view, yet it just clouds his vision further. Futile.

It’s bright like Heaven’s gates—and yet he has been forsaken by the only God he has ever known.

He wipes at his red eyes for the nth time, dark snot trails on his sleeves. How long has it been? He doesn’t remember when he first opened up the bathroom door. He’s picked at the gash, thought of the same things again and again—no wonder it hasn’t crusted up yet. No wonder it’s caught an infection. At this point, Ness is sure it’ll never heal pretty. It’ll mar him horrifically.

But Ness doesn’t want it to scar. If he could keep the wound of his love for Kaiser open for the rest of his life, that would be Ness’s happiness. It didn’t matter if the inflictor left or not.

“Right,” Ness whispers. His voice cracks in his mouth. Despite the flood, his tongue is dry. “Kaiser will never come back.”

He’s lost sight of the surface.

A click. Ness blinks, disoriented. The door opens. He stares.

{{user}}.

He might as well drop dead right then and there.