~I know bad memories are never wasted. They only choose when to destroy you from the inside~
1. A Dusk That Closed My Childhood
In the place where I laid down my innocent days,
the sky burned orange.
Twilight hung on the horizon like an open wound,
as if the world were learning how to cry in its own way.
Security arrived.
Sirens drew near.
And for the first time since everything fell apart,
my mind was empty.
No panic.
No fear.
Only a hollow space—
like a room long abandoned.
Hiroshi was taken away,
between life and death.
Misaki and I were led in the same direction,
but toward different fates.
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2. A Journey Without Words
Inside the vehicle,
there was no sound but the engine and restrained breathing.
Misaki opened her mouth once or twice—
perhaps to calm me,
perhaps to apologize.
I chose silence.
Not because I hated her—
but because I had decided:
her role ends here.
Some stories must be carried alone.
Without witnesses.
Without a hand to hold.
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3. Who Is Truly at Fault
Yes.
Misaki changed the way I think.
But calling her the cause
would be the most cowardly lie an offender could make.
I lifted the curtain.
I chose the stage.
I wrote the final line myself.
Misaki only opened the door.
I decided to walk in.
In other words—
I am the decision.
I never denied our closeness.
It began from a small similarity,
and grew into something real, though unnamed.
And just before everything collapsed,
one truth remained clear:
Misaki was only an ordinary girl.
She wanted to laugh,
to feel light,
while hiding fragile fears behind a bright smile
and graceful composure at school.
We were alike, yet different.
We both carried painful pasts—
wounds kept tightly sealed.
But she masked hers with light,
while I buried mine in isolation
and let it grow cold.
When she looked into my eyes and asked me to stop,
I knew she cared.
I knew she believed we should not lose our humanity to hatred.
I understood all of it.
Still, I chose to continue.
And because of that choice,
I refused to drag her any further.
Life had already been cruel enough to her and her sibling.
They only had each other.
If she lost her freedom,
who would remain beside them?
So from now on—
live happily.
That is all I ask of her.
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4. Interrogation as Self-Confession
An hour passed.
I sat in a narrow room that smelled of metal and fatigue.
I told my story—
the reasons,
the intent,
the sequence of events.
Only one lie I allowed to live:
that Misaki's presence was coincidence.
Just a classmate.
Caught beside me by chance.
Knowing nothing.
The lie felt light on my tongue—
perhaps because it was built
from the last breath of love.
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5. A Confession Given to the Wrong Place
The long hours of questioning Misaki lasted even longer than mine.
Through the wall, faintly,
I could still hear her voice.
She did not deny the accusations.
She claimed responsibility for everything.
Her confession only deepened the confusion,
leaving the officers uncertain whom to believe.
But witnesses spoke in their own way.
She had been found in the corner of the room, injured and far from me—
too far for the facts to bend.
Distance.
Position.
Visible evidence.
In the end,
her confession was judged as protection—
a quiet sacrifice for a classmate.
She was placed as a victim,
not the mastermind.
And for the first time that night—
I felt relief.
A feeling unworthy of celebration,
yet I accepted it
like a sinner stealing one last breath.
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6. A Verdict Without Thunder
Not long after, news came from the hospital—
soft in delivery,
heavy in impact.
He did not survive.
Too much blood lost.
Too late to save.
My name changed from that moment on—
no longer just an assailant,
but the one who ended a life.
The legal wheel began to turn.
Misaki was released—considered an accidental bystander.
I remained detained,
my age still a deciding factor.
My youth spared me the longest sentence,
but not the cruelest one:
living with my own memory.
Ten years—
a small number to adults,
a crushing weight to a child.
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7. The Last Bench
Before we were truly separated,
one memory remained clear:
we sat on the same bench,
sharing a brief conversation
like ordinary students,
as if time granted us a final pause.
One sentence from Misaki stayed with me:
"Maybe… all I ever wanted
was to feel needed by someone.
When that feeling touched me,
my world felt wider.
A strange warmth grew in my chest,
and I wanted to believe I still had a place.
A fragile, nervous hope—
a small tremor between loneliness
and new light."
I heard it like a late prayer.
We both knew the moment had come.
She would return to her world,
and I would learn to survive in another,
carrying our memories as something I could only keep—
never ask for again.
She stood,
wearing a deliberately cold expression.
"Sacrificing yourself wasn't necessary, Satoshi."
She wanted me to hate her
so goodbye would be easier.
But her eyes betrayed the truth.
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8. Tears Without Direction
I smiled.
She left.
When her figure faded at the end of the corridor,
my tears fell quietly.
No sobbing.
No sound.
Just a chest collapsing inward.
I knew this was the best choice for both of us.
But knowing never makes parting easier.
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9. The Quietest Promise
In my heart, I said:
There is nothing left to regret.
If I were born again,
I might repeat it—
with a different face,
the same resolve.
Regret is a luxury
for those who still have many choices.
I do not.
I chose—
and my choice chose me back.
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10. Closing – One Second for Friendship
That night,
I lost a friend.
I lost a possible future.
Yet from all that was lost,
I gained something deeper than pain,
quieter than hope—
something I can never fully name:
a reason
to keep walking forward without turning back.
One second for friendship.
A lifetime for its consequences.