丅ᕼᑌǤ ᒪIᖴᗴ 【toĸyo reveɴɢerѕ х feм!reαder】

7

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Ｔｒａｇｅｄｙ
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Black attires.

The vicinity was flocked with visitors in black attire.

The visitors were seated in neat rows, their forms hunched to obscure their tear-stained visage while some sat rigidly straight. Their posture might be stable and unwavering, but their emotions were not.

The room was sheathed in a thick layer of sorrow, bereft of joy and comfort congruent with the deprivation of colors present. Enveloped in a desolation so palpable, it was hard for anyone to breathe.

The ceremony went by excruciatingly slow.

Each passing second felt like a stab to the heart, as reality taunted you by perpetuating the funeral reception despite your inward cries for time to stop and rewind. With each passing second, you had to be reminded that what transpired before you is real, and not a nightmare. The hysteric shrieks, choked sobs, and muffled cries were not a figment of your imagination.

As the ceremony came to an end, everyone stood up to proffer their condolences to the mourning family. It was a formality and a feeble attempt at offering solace, but to some, it was better than simply staying quiet.

Two blond siblings sat in silence throughout the ceremony; one was stifling their sobs whereas the other simply stared at the ground, gaze hollow.

Each of their solicitous friends rushed to them the moment the ceremony ended, bombarding them with an influx of concerned inquiries and words of comfort.

However, there was one person who stayed rooted to their position even after the other guests had stood and left. Their eyes were closely fixated on the framed picture, scrutinizing the happy countenance of the person and their eyes that reflected so much emotions despite seeming so empty. A person embodying every good aspect one could possibly have - an amazing friend, brother, and leader.

They were overwhelmed with grief, but there were no tears pouring out their eyes. They had seen and heard the death of this person, but a deep part of them still refused to believe it and clung desperately to the tiny vestige of hope that none of this was real.

"[y/n]-chan?"

Your gaze snapped up to Emma. Her shoulders were quivering as translucent pearls of water trickled down her cheeks.

Overcome with shock, you said nothing.

"[y-[y/n]-chan..." Emma sniffled, wiping her tears with her sleeve. "S-Shinichiro is gone. He's gone!"

You stared at her, eyes blinking as your brain processed her words. Your emotions were jumbled up, assimilated and interwoven with one another into one tumultuous storm. Her words rang in your head. Shinichiro is gone... He's gone... He's gone... He's gone... The weight of the situation had finally settled in as your hands curled into fists. HE'S GONE HE'S GONE HE'S GONE HE'S GONE HE'S GONE HE'S GONE-

"How...?" The only word you could utter. How did this happen? How could this happen?

Emma knelt down in front of you, her eyes half-lidded in pain from having to break the news to you.

"M-Mikey's friends... They..."

You gulped, bracing yourself.