| 𝓛𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓘𝓼 𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓐 𝓖𝓪𝓶𝓮, 𝓔𝓷𝓳𝓸𝔂 𝓲𝓽. |

➪ 𝑰'𝒎 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝑻𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝑴𝒚 𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆.

He had experienced the feeling before, with Karube and Chota.

The emotion usually expressed itself in two ways: the first was that of an anchor being dropped into sea.

Sinking lower and lower in his stomach until it hit rock bottom, a place of which no one could ever escape.

The second was the more painful of the two, he thought.

This was a feeling of dread, a sharp, stinging pain in his stomach, almost like something was trying to claw it's way out of him, ripping him open from the inside.

There really was no absolute way to compare which was worse though.

Yes, the second may be more painful, but it only lasted a few minutes, until he finally calmed himself down. (Of course, no one else was alive to help.)

But the first lasted longer. This could be anything between a few hours or weeks, up towards months or years.

Someone with really terrible luck could have it until they died, only realizing as they took their last look around the place they were to die.

That was when the feeling began to emerge, drowning you.

Why the hell did he put his own life on the line to try and save someone as awful and vile as Niragi?

He could've left the asshole die. Should've left him to rot, and to wither.

Ann told him once that Niragi was a big stain on a clean sheet. Arisu never understood fully, but now he did. He really did.

He hated the fact he still cried when the man died. He hated that he missed hearing his ear-bleeding laugh- even if it was only heard when he killed someone.

And most of all, he hated the fact that he knew he could've prevented his death if he tried hard enough.

So why didn't he?..

Not just Niragi's death either, Usagi, Chishiya, Kuina, Ann, Tatta, Aguni, Hatter, Heiya, everyone.

All of them were dead and there was nothing he could do about it. What was the point of stressing about it anyway? It wasn't in his control. But it could've been.

If he tried.

But he thought he had.

That was the problem.

Or- maybe he was the problem?

Was he?

There was nobody he could ask.

Arisu tries to distract himself from these thoughts by forcing himself to get up from the bench he was sitting on and hobble to the nearest shop he could find, hopefully to find some bandages for his wounded leg, which had stopped bleeding thankfully- but was starting to turn an ugly purple.

Realistically, there wasn't anything he could've done. (Another thing he was sure Ann would say.)

And deep down, he knew that. Yet the only thing he could just about visualize perfectly in his head was watching his friends (and enemies) die in front of him, everything else was blurry.

He finally finds a shop, and luckily it's a pharmacy. (He needs more of that these days.)

Arisu manages to walk inside, quite easily for the able-bodied, as it turns out the door had been ripped off its hinges an incredibly long time ago.