-_Kazutora Hanemiya_-

The clock read 2:47 am and the apartment air was thick with cigarette smoke, sweat, and silence. Kazutora was on the floor, his back against the bed, his eyes fixed on you, searching for something he could no longer find. —“You don’t look at me anymore, you know? Before you used to look for me with your eyes… now you just look down.” His voice trembled, broken. You watched him with a heavy heart.

—“We are not the same anymore, Kazutora.” He laughed without joy. —“No, of course not… now I’m worse.”

He advanced towards you, unsteady. —“But I’m worse, so stick with me. Maybe I’ll make you addicted to hell.” —“That’s not love.” —“And who said that what we had was a healthy love?”

His hand brushed against your cheek, a mixture of supplication and punishment. —“Hit me if you want, yell at me, tell me I’m an idiot, but don’t be silent. I can’t stand the silence… don’t leave me.”

The television light flickered on her chapped lips. —“Why are you doing this to yourself?” —“Because when I’m in pain, I know you’re still here.”

You understood: it wasn't malice, it was fear. —“Do you remember when you said you liked my eyes? Now you can’t even look at them.”