I was living here—

No, I was merely being kept alive.

The ground was made of thorns, and every step brought pain.

But I could no longer walk.

So I pretended not to feel anything.

The warmth on my back…

Even that warmth scared me.

At first, all I could think about was when I’d be abandoned.

That person—the one who carried me,

That “Onii-chan”...

For some reason, he never left me behind.

I couldn’t understand.

Why? For what?

I couldn’t help anyone.

I was useless.

At first, I just trembled.

Clinging desperately to the fabric of his clothes with trembling fingers.

I was afraid.

If I grew used to this warmth,

And it was taken from me someday…

I didn’t think I could survive it.

But that person never said a word.

He never told me to get down.

Never said I was heavy.

Never called me a burden.

Every day, he pushed forward—

Bloody, wounded, pierced by thorns—

But never once did he complain.

I told myself I shouldn’t believe in him.

Being betrayed after trusting someone…

That’s the deepest pain of all.

I kept telling myself that,

And yet… deep down,

I was clinging to that back.

Even if I couldn’t speak,

Even if I couldn’t move,

He never left me behind.

I don’t know when it started.

But at some point,

I began to feel “guilty” for existing.

At first, I was just “scared.”

But that back was warm.

So gentle.

And it made me feel… alive.

From the moment I realized that—

A tiny whisper inside me began to ache:

> "I’m sorry."

I was a burden.

If I weren’t here,

He could’ve moved faster.

He wouldn’t be in as much pain.

But even so—

Even so…

> Having someone by your side…

It’s such a warm feeling.

Emotions I thought I had forgotten

Began to flicker again in my chest.

But speaking those feelings out loud… terrified me.

I thought if I said a word,

Something might break.

And besides, maybe my voice…

Was never needed in his world.

But still—

Even after hundreds, thousands of tremors on his back,

He never once tried to shake me off.

Just that alone…

Made me want to say “thank you.”

But I was too afraid.

I swallowed the words down again and again,

Choking them back—

> “Maybe tomorrow… Maybe the next day…”

That’s how five years passed.

And then, one day—

My throat burned.

The words overflowed, unstoppable—

And finally, finally—

> “Thank you.”

I said it.

Do you know how long that journey was?

How terrifying it was?

But even then—

That back never changed.

He said nothing, just gently carried me like always.

I’m still in this hell.

But I found one thing—

Just one thing that saved me.

His name… is Kanata Yomi.

The first and last “hope” I found in hell.