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I sleepwalked through the following week. Emotions I couldn't distinguish nor identify plagued my mind and body, keeping me awake in the stead of my nightmares. They churned in my stomach and flickered behind my eyelids, never leaving me alone.

It wasn't just the fact that I had hurt him physically, he had been vulnerable in some way with me. And I ruined it. I was plagued with the guilt of deceiving him and thinking it would be ok if he never found out that I was a bad person. Not only did he find out but he was on the receiving end of it too. And now... We were on opposite sides.

A bemused laugh almost left my throat as I remembered the way we had somehow always been opposites one way or another. He sat on the left of the bench and me on the right. I talked, he listened. The laugh died as quickly as it formed and was replaced with a sour aftertaste that had me kicking the desk in my room in frustration.

Heavy breaths escaped me as I used all my willpower to contain the angry screams on the verge of resounding. All week, my room and the punching bag in the lobby had been taking the brunt of my unstable emotions. The most prominent emotion was anger.

It always had been. Perhaps it was the way it could so easily be expressed in the environment I lived in or it was due to the people around me that had influenced me but I had a temper and my room was paying for it.

I grunted in frustration once more and swiped my hands over the surface of the flimsy desk, knocking the useless - but sentimental - ornaments I had gathered to the ground. My hands trembled as I wove my fingers together in front of me and slumped down onto a chair. Knuckles battered and marred with red from overuse taunted me. The skin was cracked and ugly, dried blood still clinging to recent cuts. Squeezing my eyes tight, I swore under my breath and swallowed the lump growing in my throat.

It was Friday in a few hours.

Which meant that I had a decision to make. It should have been an obvious one but I was prone to letting my emotions get the better of me when I was angry. For that reason, I was debating what I should do.

The most rational choice was to remain in the base and forget the whole ordeal with him. I was still refusing to use his name despite how much I thought about it.

Discreetly, I peered at the crumpled ball of paper on the floor with scribbled letters on it. It was supposed to remain there, untouched and soon to be disposed of. But I caved. I've never had self control. Did that make me more of a human or more of a monster? I didn't

want to know.

I scrambled to flatten the wrinkled sheet out in front of me. Once the writing was legible, I let it sit on the empty desk as a reminder of all the reasons why going back out there would be a mistake.

相 あい 澤 ざわ 消 しょう 太 た

"This is far from over," he had said.

But what had he meant? I hadn't been dispatched on any external missions for the past week as I was still in recovery so I had no way of knowing what was going on up on the surface. All week I had been convincing myself not to go out there for answers but his words would echo in my head like a mantra and I was consumed with curiosity.

Nothing could ease the discomfort the whole situation had made me feel but I was desperate to know how he was doing. Maybe it was just an excuse for me to go see him but I knew even before the clock struck twelve in the morning that I had made up my mind.

I would be irrational and careless and relent to my curiosity. Chances were I wouldn't even see him. It was essentially harmless... right?

Even if it wasn't, I was already marching past the front gates of the house, hands stuffed in the pockets of my jacket. All the while, a single crumpled piece of paper housing a name was wedged tightly in my fist.

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