Satoru loved sirens, he thought they were angelic.

That illusion was shattered by the reality of the last few pages; sirens were dangerous. Although they’re gorgeous, spotting one was a sure sign of death. No one lives after hearing a siren’s song.

Despite it all, Satoru didn’t really find himself caring for the warnings. Nothing could quash the curiosity that sprouted in him, day by day.

Satoru’s content with his life. He has everything that he wants; riches, a living space, friends, and the eyes of the world on him. There’s nothing more he craves.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

His fascination for sirens never faded over time. It’s a spark waiting to be fueled into a fully fledged flame.

Satoru’s fully aware of how fucking stupid it would be to purposely seek out a siren. Would it essentially be a death mission?

The answer is yes, but hey— as morbid as it is, in Satoru’s mind, to die in the arms of a siren is to die with no regret.

He drove to the nearest beach and manages to convince a fisherman to let him grab a boat after taking out his wallet and takes it into the water.

His arms strain as he rows as far out as he can.

Satoru sits there for hours, letting the ocean rock him back and forth.

Staring into the yawning expanse of the water and the reflection of the moon on its surface, Satoru sighs.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Satoru.”

He mutters to himself, huffing out a sardonic laugh.

That’s when he hears the water part around the body of something, and a splash sounds to his right.

He whips around, but he doesn’t see a thing. Satoru grips the edge of the boat as he keeps a eye on the waves.

Satoru peels his blue eyes open as you drag him into the sea, but he doesn't care.

He felt a surge of satisfaction run through him, and so, even as he slips away from life, he clings to you happily.