Today has come to an end, but the bad feeling clings to me like something trying to warn me. Olympia said that she still had something left to do at the park, and after I insisted that I'd wait so we could leave together, she still wouldn't budge. I don't know why, but I went anyway.
But I have this nagging feeling in my gut that I shouldn't have left, I shouldn't have left her. As much as I feel like I should turn around and head back, I keep heading towards the entrance of the park. No matter how comforting this stroll should have been, I still didn't feel an ounce of goodness.
As I reach the exit or entrance of the park, I notice a beautiful flower nestled on the ground. On the flower rests a butterfly—or rather, what's left of its struggle. It's tangled in a spiderweb. Where there are spiderwebs, there are spiders. The butterfly desperately tries to get itself unstuck, but alas, it's getting eaten by the spider. Poor thing. I feel bad.
As I was about to go on my way home, someone appeared right before me. Someone I was hoping I wouldn't see today. She stands there, swallowed by a pale, unnatural light that doesn't cast a shadow.
Her lips barely move.
"It is happening again.
"It is happening again."
My heart sinks. In an instant, I'm drenched in sweat. As I run, my breath tears itself out of me in ragged bursts. All I can do is run. Once I get there, will I be able to do anything?
Useless. Useless, useless, useless.
That's all that I am.
I can't help anyone.
I can't save anyone.
I can't even save myself.
Nothing has changed.
No one has changed.
I haven't changed.
I'm the same piece of shit I was since the story began. Olympia was right: I am a coward. I'm an idiot. I'm a fool. I'm useless, worthless even.
I hate this.
I hate this so much.
I try again, countless times, but in the end, there's nothing I can do against fate. If I were someone else, would they have been able to save the day instead of me being here? Would anyone else have been able to save Olympia? What if the Kiyomi of this world remained the Kiyomi of this world? What if I never took his place? Would he have been able to save Olympia?
My existence is a mistake. But if it were a mistake, why did it happen? Why do I continue going on even when I'm unable to do anything? There must be a reason, right? I can't be forced to experience hell for my entire existence for no reason, right?
Maybe this is hell. All that I've been experiencing is some sort of divine punishment for my crimes in the real world. That has to be it! What other explanation can there be? I must have done something atrocious to be forced into this hell. Wait… Will I be free simply if I remember what I did in the past? Maybe that's it! Of course! It's not that I don't remember what horrible things I've done, it's that I've forgotten! The purpose of this whole story was for me to remember and make atonement for my sins.
That must be it.
Ah! Now I remember.
In the past, in the real world, I treated everyone I came across as a tool. Things that I only used to get something. Whether it was to get ahead in life or simply for my amusement. Even the girlfriend I had back then—I only used her. I didn't love her, not even the tiniest bit. I just wanted to be loved. In reality, I hated her. I brought her as close to me as anyone could ever be. It was just her and me at the edge of the world. And once I grew bored, once the novelty faded, I pushed her off the edge, not because of something as folly as fate, but because I simply wanted to.
I hurt her because I could.
I hurt her because I wanted to.
What the hell am I even saying? As screwed up as this reality is, I know that isn't the truth. I know that what I'm experiencing isn't hell. I know that because I met Olympia. In hell, there would be no light such as hers. She's my hope that even someone as pathetic and cowardly as I can change. She makes me believe that I can be better than who I am now. But I know that that isn't true. Someone like me can't become any better. And if I could become someone better, I'd just be a better version of a piece of shit.
Why must fate be so cruel?
Is there anything I can do?
God?
After what felt like an eternity, I arrived back at where Olympia and I had just had our conversation.
There she is.
A knife in her back. Blood spilling into the pond like it's trying to drown the water itself.
The same pond that once brought me a sense of tranquility. The same Olympia that has brought me happiness.
There's nothing left for me in this world.
Then suddenly—as if in answer—a knife slides into my chest, quiet as slipping into water. It appears to be the same knife used to murder Olympia, considering that the knife that was once lodged in her back is no longer there. The assailant stands right in front of me, but their face refuses to come into focus.
Please let this be the last time I need to die.
End this for me, won't you?
I can't do this another time.
I'm tired.
So, so tired.
If I have to go through this again, the person I call me will no longer exist. He'll disappear into the restlessness of eternity.
Nothing in front of him.
Nothing behind him.
No past—
No present—
No future—
There is nothing—
There is no idiot—
There is no fool—
There is no loser—
There is no liar—
There is nothing.
Maybe this would be for the better? I should just become numb and disconnect myself from whatever is happening. If I'm not there, I can't get hurt.
Yeah, that's for the best.
As my life finally fades out, the last thing I see is my reflection rippling in the pond.
What kind of face am I wearing?
Oh—
I'm smiling.