・・・ lxxix ・・・
Ao was the one who found her.
When morning arrived, he woke up remembering everything from the day before.
Ao recalled the hate in his father's tone as he said his cruel words.
The ache in his chest as he cried from the pain and ran.
The poisoned words that he spoke to Ame at the bridge.
The tears.
The rain.
Her broken expression.
—Ame.
He looked at his hands as they began to shake.
I... need to say sorry to her.
I... need to make everything right again.
Ao closed his eyes.
The pain was still there in his chest.
It had always been.
He breathed slowly.
He looked at the clock next to his desk.
9:23 a.m.
It was a Sunday that day, he remembered.
・・・ lxxx ・・・
Ao stood outside her door, his legs slightly shaking.
His throat felt dry.
His heartbeat thumped alongside the weight in his chest.
Ao was scared.
Scared of facing her.
Scared of talking to her.
Scared of what she might say.
He had hurt her a lot.
He had said things he never should have said.
It was his fault.
It was always his fault.
I need to make things right again.
I need to make things right again.
I need to make things right again.
I need to make things right again.
It's going to be okay.
Ao exhaled slightly.
Then, he knocked on the door.
・・・ lxxxi ・・・
There was no answer.
He paused.
He tried again.
Still no answer.
Ao stared at the floor, his chest heavy.
Ame would have been awake by now.
For the third time, he tried again.
There was still no answer.
He tried to twist the door knob.
It was unlocked.
.... Huh?
Ame was a private person.
Even when she had went to college,
she always made sure to lock her room.
Perhaps that had been the first sign that something was wrong.
・・・ lxxxii ・・・
He pushed the door.
It opened slowly. Noiselessly.
Once it was wide enough, Ao quietly slipped inside.
The familiar layout of the room spread before him.
He gazed around for one moment,
looking for her.
When he finally did,
Ao froze.
Because Fujiwara Ame was lying on the floor, unmoving.
・・・ lxxxiii ・・・
Ame was still wearing her clothes from last night.
Her golden hair covered her face,
contrasting to the red-colored carpet underneath her.
She almost looked like she was sleeping.
—Almost.
It was then when Ao knew something was terribly wrong.
Ame.
Ame.
Ame—
Shaking in fear, he walked towards her,
trying to erase the panic that was slowly eating at him.
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
"—Ame," he whispered.
Beside her hand was an overturned bottle of pills.
Its contents were spilled on the floor.
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
Ao kneeled beside her.
He was shaking now.
His breathing had turned shallow.
Everything felt wrong.
"Ame," he repeated, voice cracking. "... Ame."
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
She wasn't moving. She wasn't breathing.
Why... aren't you waking up?
Slowly, he reached out to touch her pale, slender hand.
It was cold.