The classes were done for today. I left the room and unfortunately, I met that person. She came out of the gate telling me, “What a coincidence”.

I knew enough that it wasn’t a coincidence. The timing was too accurate. Presenting a stern stare, she added, “Can we talk for a moment?”

I was well-versed of the situation. We’d talk about Yamada-san. I nodded and followed her footsteps. I figured that my refusal would reflect at me as if I was rude or someone who doesn’t read between the lines. She went on and I followed her strides. After a short stroll, we arrived at the rooftop. She had chosen that spot to be reminded of that day when we first met. That was the day I have seen a strange and stupid girl who jumps into trouble. My first impression lasted until now. I still recall her as strange and stupid. Regardless, I suppose bringing that up was unnecessary. She was sad, and what she needed was comfort. If she cried later, what would I do?

We freed ourselves from any activity and stood still. All that I could do was to look at her from behind. Meanwhile, she looked up.

“Fu fu.” She laughed nervously and paused. After a moment of silence, she went on, “I dragged you all the way here and I don’t know what to say right now.”

“It’s about Yamada-san, isn’t it?”

I replied for a sudden. I was straightforward, but it wasn’t like I wanted the conversation to be over quick. I want her to stay focused.

“Hey, I made a mistake.”

She rubbed her eyes, yet there were no tears dispersing out of it. Thinking about what she just said, I couldn’t understand what she meant.

“What do you mean by that?”

She dropped her gaze and answered indifferently, “It’s all my fault. I’m the one who killed her.”

Upon confessing to me, I felt the chills running through my spine. What a perplexing conflict.

“What are you talking about!" Perhaps I should let her finish. I overreacted again.

“I was too careless. When I told Yamada-san about my close friend who committed suicide, she was influenced by it. In other words, I gave her the idea of taking her own life. I know that she already considered ‘suicide’ as her option, and what I did was to give her a push. I’m neither her hero nor savior, I was nothing but a devil who whispered her to death.”

After the short yet vivid explanation, she let it out. The face that expressed melancholy had crumbled down the deepest region. She couldn’t take it anymore. Tears burst out of the corner edges of her eyes. She failed the same quest twice, and the aftereffect was devastating. To her late close friend, she failed. I didn’t know the whole story, but her friend also committed suicide because of the same circumstance. I could hypothesize that she was also an “observer” around that time; and after her death, she decided to change herself. She developed pangs of remorse subsequent to the incident. In order to break free from guilt, she mustered the courage to stand and be a hero. To those people who have suffered the same as her close friend did, she’d represent herself as someone who cares, give medial or emotional help, and stand firm against the bullies.

That became her purpose when high school began. She wouldn’t give a damn even if other people consider her as strange or stupid like what I do. No one could stop a person who was devoted to his or her goal. At the beginning of April, she found the right person. Yamada-san was the girl that she must offer a hand to. She must protect her from harm at all cost.

Cruel as it was, the outcome stayed consistent. Now she blames herself for all the wrongdoings. Giving Yamada-san the idea of committing suicide may be true, but it wasn’t her fault. She mustn’t have held herself accountable for it. I was also the type who overthinks to situations, but I don’t consider myself a victim most of the time. I don’t want to accept a bad scenario if I don’t deserve it. What she was doing right now was no other done inconveniencing herself to the problems of the others. Was she trying hard to be righteous? To the point where she’d carry a farfetched burden?

I could’ve been blunt and tell how crazy she was. However, knowing that she was emotionally incompetent right now, I must pick the proper words. One wrong move and I could also leave her broken.

So? How would I respond? By giving her advice? If so, what advice? I was clueless about what to say. My inner thoughts were telling me to leave and stay away from her.

“Thanks for hearing me out.” She let out a forced smile; it wasn’t easing no matter how you look at it. “I’m happy to have someone that I could tell my problems to. You don’t have to think of things to comfort me, just by standing there and hearing out my complains is enough.”

She was good at reading between the lines. I wanted to heave a sigh of relief, but that would make me look sarcastic. She wiped her tears away with a kerchief on her hand, then smiled again. This time, it looked much better.

“All right… thank you-” She scratched her head and added, “Now that I recalled it, we haven’t introduced ourselves yet. I’m Miyako. Miyazaki Miyako. You can call me Miyako if you want.”

“Th-then, I’ll call you Miyako-san. I’m Shirase, Ayase Shirase. You can also call me by my first name.”

I didn't intend to say that, but I chose to go with the flow and not ruin the fun.

“So Shirase-san, then.”

I nodded and smiled the best I could.

“That sounds fine.”

“I’m going now Shirase-san. I’ve got some errands to take care of.”

“O-Okay. I’ll stay here for a while.”

To be honest, I don’t want to walk alongside her. When she turned around and walked to the exit, I had the urge to speak.

“S-so! What are you going to do from now on?”

I couldn’t help but say it; for me to be relieved from the wearying question. She stopped from her tracks and looked back.

“What’s your guess?”

What was she trying to tell? Was she proposing a riddle? With a bitter smile on my face, I queried back.

“You’re not thinking of committing suicide too, aren’t you?”

“What kind of analyzation is that?” She grinned for a second and continued, “I have to move forward. I must be more careful next time.”

I uttered a sigh, this time with no constraint.

“Right. Next time, there are always second chances. That’s what I believe.”

Although I said that, I couldn’t help but rephrase it in my thoughts. There may be a “next time”, however, we must never deny the concept of “it’s too late”. Sadly for Yamada-san, it was too late.

After ten minutes of staying at the rooftop, I left and headed home. At the railway station, I still find myself weird for staring around -hopelessly presuming that Akamatsu-san was here waiting for me. Of course, he wouldn’t be here. If by chance he expected me to come, I was sure he’d get sick of it and leave. I arrived here an hour late, after all. Once I confirmed that he wasn’t present I get into the next train. I went home safe, despite that, I felt so tired. Plenty of bad things happened today. Yeah right, events don’t go the way you like it no matter how hard you try to obtain it. For now, I’d just sleep and forget my worries.

I opened my eyes and tried to recall what happened last night. What did I have for dinner? Damn, I forgot. I did my best to recollect all my thoughts. I felt like I have no memory of everything that happened last night. Just then I figured out that I fell asleep as soon as I went home. That answered everything, I thought I have memory loss all of a sudden. When I glanced at my alarm clock, I realized that I woke up so late. I stood up fast and headed downstairs.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

I told my mother.

“Shirase, I woke up late too. I already prepared breakfast for you. I and your Dad is going to work now.”

I nodded while having a sliced bread in my mouth. I prepared myself for school and went out. Because I was late, for sure Akamatsu-san wouldn’t be there any longer. I’d miss him again.

Commotion.

There was a commotion all around the railway station and there were groups of people gathered nearby the platform.

I do not know what was going on until I heard an old woman beside me saying, “The trains will be delayed; someone just committed suicide.”

My eyes widened as I stopped.

My legs froze in a daze.

A man beside the old woman added, “Poor student… he doesn’t know what he’s doing. What an innocent kid.”

Student?

He?

I was bewildered by the sudden breakthrough. Akamatsu-san; it was the first name that surfaced in my head as soon as I heard that the suicide victim was a student. I deny it. I don’t want to believe it. I must make sure and take a look, but before I make a step forward, I already came to a halt. I was afraid. Not only for knowing the truth, but also for seeing a shredded or mangled body. Was I ready to ingest what lies beyond that group of people? I don’t have the guts to move forward nor move an inch. If the victim was really Akamatsu-san, would I be prepared to accept it?

No. Never.

I was not ready. All that I did was to turn around and cry. I couldn’t even confirm if he was the person who jumped. If I don’t see him again in the station where we first met, could I say that he really was the suicide victim?

I doubt it.

--END OF CHAPTER 1--