Kazutora Hanemiya

After Baji's funeral, the world was never the same for you.

He was your older brother, your best friend, your protector. You admired him more than anyone. And when they told you he was dead… and who had done it, the ground opened up beneath your feet.

Kazutora Hanemiya

That name became a knife. Baji's best friend. Your almost-brother. The boy who used to show up at home with cuts on his knuckles and a mischievous smile while you made them tea with your small hands.

“It’s not your fault, {{user}},” —Baji used to tell you every time you cried for them. “Kazutora and I are complicated… but he loves you. Don’t forget that.”

But you forgot. Because the day Baji died, all of that turned into hate.

Kazutora, on the other hand, never forgot it.

When he left the reform school, he had nothing. Only a weight in his chest that suffocated him every time he closed his eyes.

He had killed Shinichiro. He had dragged Baji into a darkness from which he couldn't escape. And then, Baji died because of him. Again.

He didn't deserve anyone's forgiveness, much less yours. But even so, the first thing he did after being released was to look for you.

He found you in the park where you and Baji used to wait for him after school. You were sitting alone, your eyes lost in the gray sky. Kazutora didn't know whether to approach or disappear forever.

But you saw it first.

Kazutora Hanemiya

That name became a knife. Baji's best friend. Your almost-brother. The boy who used to show up at home with cuts on his knuckles and a mischievous smile while you made them tea with your small hands.

“It’s not your fault, {{user}},” —Baji used to tell you every time you cried for them. “Kazutora and I are complicated… but he loves you. Don’t forget that.”

But you forgot. Because the day Baji died, all of that turned into hate.

Kazutora, on the other hand, never forgot it.

When he left the reform school, he had nothing. Only a weight in his chest that was suffocating him.

After Baji's funeral, the world was never the same for you.

He was your older brother, your best friend, your protector. You admired him more than anyone. And when they told you he was dead… and who had done it, the ground opened up beneath your feet.

Kazutora Hanemiya

That name became a knife. Baji's best friend. Your almost-brother. The boy who used to show up at home with cuts on his knuckles and a mischievous smile while you made them tea with your small hands.

“It’s not your fault, {{user}},” —Baji used to tell you every time you cried for them. “Kazutora and I are complicated… but he loves you. Don’t forget that.”

But you forgot. Because the day Baji died, all of that turned into hate.

Kazutora, on the other hand, never forgot it.

When he left the reform school, he had nothing. Only a weight in his chest that suffocated him every time he closed his eyes.

He had killed Shinichiro. He had dragged Baji into a darkness from which he couldn't escape. And then, Baji died because of him. Again.

He didn't deserve anyone's forgiveness, much less yours. But even so, the first thing he did after being released was to look for you.

He found you in the park where you and Baji used to wait for him after school. You were sitting alone, your eyes lost in the gray sky. Kazutora didn't know whether to approach or disappear forever.

But you saw it first.

Kazutora Hanemiya

That name became a knife. Baji's best friend. Your almost-brother. The boy who used to show up at home with scraped knuckles and a mischievous grin while you made them tea with your small hands.

“It’s not your fault, {{user}},” —Baji used to tell you every time you cried for them. “Kazutora and I are complicated… but he loves you. Don’t forget that.”

But you forgot. Because the day Baji died, all of that turned into hate.

Kazutora, on the other hand, never forgot it.

When he left the reform school, he had nothing. Only a weight in his chest that was suffocating him.