Haruki Yasuda

Haruki initially comes across as a friendly person, easy to talk to about any topic and confident in himself; this doesn't mean he's an open book, however, as he keeps a lot of things to himself and will answer with lies if he doesn't trust the person asking. He will also lie to people he loves if it means keeping them safe, but for the most part, he will divert the conversation away from the questions. The fact that he's a good conversationalist doesn't make him any less peculiar, though; once he warms up to people, he can and will make dark jokes often, and he will also share any of his fun facts about death even if unprompted. This can lead to some uncomfortable moments, however, in which case he'll apologize and move on.

His fascination with death is one of the primary moving forces behind his actions and thoughts, as well as his life as an idol, since his entire concept revolves around it. Though he strives for death to be normalized and embraced as just another part of human life, he's personally quite enthralled by it in ways that some might find concerning. He finds himself often thinking about ways in which he could die involving the objects around him, and likes to have small encounters with death, such as going just a tad too fast and hitting the brakes just at the right moment, or holding his breath underwater just long enough that it feels like suffocating, to give some examples. It's not suicidal ideation fueled by depression, at the moment, but more so him being a little too comfortable with dying and wanting to get "a little more physical" with death, as he would put it. It's not a part of himself anyone gets to see often, since he doesn't want to alarm the people around him. It's not like he actively wants to die, it's more so that he enjoys the thrill that comes with being aware that he'll die someday and him wanting to tempt Death. His relationship with Death has a lot of facets to it, one might say; he's decided to devote his youth to singing gospel about it, he respects it like a force of nature, and he loves to dance with it and tease it playfully, just to have fun and see when it'll embrace him again. It's like a messed up version of will they-won't they, with the add on that he's flirting with an entity. It's a matter between him and Death. Though, if he lets you in on a little secret… It's been happening less now that he's got HiMERU. Good thing that Death is always busy.

✦ Appearance

Haruki is 169 centimeters tall and 53 kilograms of weight. He's a short, slim young man with fair skin. He’s got light freckles on his cheeks, and he keeps a small smile on his lips most of the time. His eyelashes are long, and his eyes are pastel pink, the same color as the underside of his hair. The rest of his hair is black. His hair is past shoulder length, he wears it on a half ponytail and his bangs are parted in half, making a heart shape on his forehead. He usually wears multiple piercings on both of his ears, and he always has a long, silver earring on his right ear.

His unit outfit consists of a black crop top with long sleeves that are similar to those of a reaper's cloak, accompanied by a tight mesh shirt of the same color underneath it. The crop top has their motifs, a skull and flowers, embroidered just above the area of the chest where the heart is. Haruki’s uniform has tight, black latex shorts and fishnets; he is also wearing thigh high black platform boots, to which there are silver chains attached, and the platforms have flowers printed onto them. The platforms are 10 cm tall, leaving him standing at 179 cm on stage; they are the highest platforms he can perform well on. The primary reason as to why he made this decision was so he would look a bit more proportionate next to his unit mate, who just so happens to be way taller than average. It’s also a stylistic choice, though, and perhaps even more than that; when interviewed about his choice in footwear for lives and the risk of injury that comes with wearing such high heels, he responded with "It's part of the thrill!" and then winked at the camera.

Haruki used to live with his father in a poor neighborhood of Tokyo in his early childhood. Their relationship was complicated, as Haruki’s father drunk often, to the extent that he wasn’t able to care for his child more often than not. In turn, Haruki had to learn to fend for himself at a young age, and for a while, he resented his dad for being too drunk to actually be there for him. However, on the occasions when he was sober, he did his best to make happy memories with Haruki, which he holds dear to him even in the present day. He was also the one who introduced the concept of idols to him and taught him how to sing; the techniques he showed him became a core part of his performance later in life, as he pursued being an idol.

He recounts one very vivid memory of his childhood that stuck with him, of the time his father took him to an amusement park for the first time; they stayed until the sun had set, and the last ride they took was the Ferris wheel. He recalls clearly that his dad pointed to the window to show him the city landscape at night, along with the stars and the moon that were shining so brightly in the sky. He also remembers being absolutely awestruck by this. On lonely evenings, he sometimes takes to looking up at the sky once again, just to replicate the feeling once again. He also wonders what his dad’s face looked like at that moment, melancholy seeping over the sweet memories.

He also knew that he didn’t have a mother, his dad had put it in appropriate terms for him since he was a small child. He knew his mother “was in paradise”, according to his father. And he had also found weird things and white powder that looked like flour in the kitchen, two things that he wasn’t allowed to touch because they were “part of dad’s work”. He’d go out at night when he thought he was asleep and he’d only come back in the afternoon of the next day, covered in the stench of cheap alcohol and multiple other things he couldn’t recognize. As he grew older, Haruki realized that this most likely meant that his father was doing shady business and that’s how he got money for them to subsist and go places. It does sadden him a bit, knowing that most of the time spent with his dad was sponsored by drugs. But the memories they made are too precious to him, so he tries not to think too much about it in order to not get them tarnished. He knows that he was trying. He just tried the wrong way.

His father committed suicide when he was eight years old. There was obviously no way he could’ve known or done anything about it, since he was just a child when it happened; yet, up until recently, he wondered how he could have done more for him, if he would have been able to stop it if he’d tried harder. His dad left him a letter. It’s ironic that he remembers four little pieces of it; the greeting, “My dear little Haruki”. “I pray you never come across love as strong as this”. “Ask for directions to this address and ask for Hitomi Yasuda when you’re there”. And the last part, stained with tears and a tiny drop of blood: “I love you. I tried.” He stayed with his father's corpse for the rest of the night and the next morning before leaving the house for the last time ever. It'd get demolished a few years later.

After asking a store owner for directions, he arrived at a nice, big, old looking mansion and rang the doorbell. When a man opened the door, he asked for Hitomi Yasuda, just like he was told to. And eventually, a woman opened the door fully for him. He remembers that she had nice, long and silky black hair, and she was also wearing a pretty dress. She welcomed him, took him by the hand and brought him inside. The woman was indeed Hitomi Yasuda, who revealed herself as his aunt, and the man who opened the door was Kaito Yasuda, her husband. The rest blurs yet again as he was asked why he came there, but he knows that they asked him to stay and told him that they would figure out the rest. That's how he got a new home.

He was initially wary since he didn't know both of them and had never seen them in his life, but they did their best to care for him, and it eventually made him open up. He can say wholeheartedly that his aunt was one of the nicest people he's ever met, always patient and understanding with him, making sure that he felt loved. Her husband was also a wonderful person, reliable and pretty sensible. His sense of humor wasn't as good as his personality, but he still put up with it. They were great parental figures to him, and they offered him all the support they could possibly give him, helping him through every bit of his troubled childhood. He loved them; he has no doubts about it. Even so, the hole his father left in his heart couldn't be filled.

He hated himself for this, initially. He felt like he was ungrateful and inconsiderate, since he saw how hard his aunt and his uncle were trying to be good parents to him, and he thought that the only way to repay this kindness was to forget the life he had before and leave it behind him. Soon enough, he realized that it was an impossible feat to try and forget something so important, and even after realizing that he couldn’t help it, he still felt bad and selfish. Indeed, it took him a few years to consider that he could both love his current family and cherish the memories of his father, that the future and the past are not necessarily enemies and that the present is a compromise of both. It seems a bit ridiculous to him when he looks back at this struggle he had for the better half of his childhood, but coming to terms with it gave him hope that, someday, he could also reconcile with an even bigger problem of his.

After a late night conversation with his aunt about his father's youth and how he met his mother, he gained the silent, somber reassurance that his life was different now, and that he could move on. His mind could fill in the blanks of everything that had happened from that night to the day he found his father, and it was grim. It felt bleak and gray, and yet it helped him. It felt like misfortune had closed the book of his past life gently. He no longer had to ask questions.

He didn’t know that misfortune had settled itself close to him, though. He had to realize its presence the hard way.

On winter vacation of his last year of middle school he had stayed in the city while his aunt and her husband went on a trip just the two of them, since it also coincided with their ten year anniversary and they trusted that Haruki could look out for himself while they were away. Of course, he didn’t do anything weird, since he was good at watching himself when alone, and he didn’t even have any friends that would want to come over, anyway.

One morning, some people rang the doorbell and asked him if this was the residence of Kaito Yasuda. He said yes hesitantly, having a bad feeling about what they were going to tell him. His bad hunch was unfortunately proven right, as the next thing they did was tell him that he had gotten into an accident on the road along with his wife and they needed to inform the family. He remembers that he asked to go to the hospital and see them, but it didn’t really feel like it was him. His mouth was moving, but he wasn’t the one speaking. And the feeling of dissociation only felt stronger when he was informed that only Kaito had survived the accident.

It felt like his life was going on a downward spiral back then, after seeing his uncle covered in bandages and multiple broken limbs. It was clear that he barely survived the car's explosion, but his chances of surviving the injuries were very slim. This affected his performance at the music school he attended to the point that his teachers told him to stop, not being able to handle just how uncanny his singing and dancing had become; everything was still there, but it lacked every single bit of soul it has before. The inheritance that his aunt had left him was managed by one of her closest friends, whose name was Yuri. She'd tried getting close to him to no avail, so he was practically left all on his own.

Despite all of this, his life was still moving on, and he was recommended to go to Reimei Academy for his first year of highschool. He remembered a conversation he'd had with his uncle a few years back, regarding how lonely he seemed and how far removed he felt from the rest of his classmates. His response at the time was that he didn't need anyone other than his family, but now that they were all gone and he was the last one standing... It wasn't something he could afford anymore, or else he'd go insane. So, he decided that he would make at least one meaningful connection in his highschool years, no matter what he had to do. He made the promise to his aunt's and his uncle's graves, and he was determined to keep it.

Like that, his first year of high school at Reimei Academy rolled in. He can confidently say that he had never had such a year as this one, for better or for worse. It’s certain that he’ll never forget it. It was quite rocky, and it didn't end well... But even now, he can't say he regrets it. Otherwise, he wouldn't have met HiMERU.

He felt like it was meant to be, the fact that he met HiMERU on their first day of school, that they were in the same class. It was like a dream to be close to someone his age, to finally be able to talk to someone after all this time spent alone. It was way too easy for him to fall in love, and that's exactly what he did. He would've done anything for HiMERU, to be honest, and he continued to prove that throughout the year as HiMERU's life changed and spiraled, with Haruki following him to whatever position he was taking. Haruki was still a special student, sure, but he was not afraid to knock on the octopus room's door to try and bring the boy some snacks, even during the time when he didn't want to see him. When he was allowed in, he'd spend every bit of free time with HiMERU, making him and Tatsumi the only two special students to linger in that place. Haruki originally only had HiMERU as his reason to be there, but after investigating what Tatsumi was doing and talking to him personally, he realized just how terrible the class system was for everyone involved in it, and decided to help Tatsumi out with the unit project he'd been planning out. Eventually, this led to him trailing after HiMERU once again, when he'd risen up from the bottom and taken over the position of top idol from Tatsumi; they used to train together, with Haruki giving HiMERU advice and guiding him through difficult steps in choreography or vocal training. To no one's surprise, this only made him fall further, as he what, to him, was all untapped potential.

This training period, however, also served to make him grow closer to HiMERU, finally getting to see what was behind his know-it-all behavior that he liked to put on. He learned things about his past, how lonely he'd been after losing his mother, just how much being an idol mattered to him... And the most important thing of all, his full name. They had been sitting in silence one time, just catching their breath after going over some choreographies together, and he was met with a sudden name: Kaname Tojou. Of course, he got confused at this, asking him who that was. The confusion quickly evolved into shock and adrenaline when he confirmed that it was his name. It was something he didn’t quite expect but that made his heart swell, also giving him hope that maybe, maybe something could happen between them. Still, if it wasn’t that, he just really appreciated the sign of trust.

He's always thought about how Kaname and him were so similar, mostly lamenting that it had to be like this for the both of them. He didn't think Kaname deserved that sort of life, and really, he just wished he'd been strong enough to protect his dreams, to protect Kaname himself. In the end, there was always one lingering regret... And it's that he never got to say he loved him.

At last, the day where they would make their announcement came. He had been involved in doing multiple things before showing up to the auditorium, losing track of time in the process. He wasn’t usually one to show up late to things, so maybe this was a bad way to start things off. At least he had enough luck to be able to arrive at the premises before getting caught in an impending storm. He showed up in a rush to the backstage, where he saw Kaname and Tatsumi having a conversation. He didn’t quite get to hear them, but, after apologizing for being late and showing a bit of a dumb smile, they decided to step out and make their announcement to the public of special and non special students they had. He was excited, even though he knew that most of the special students sitting there were paid to show up. They had been working quite hard for this, and while Tatsumi spoke about the concept of units and explained them in detail, he had been looking at Kaname most of the time. He still made sure to look at the audience, of course, but his eyes always wandered back to the satisfied expression in Kaname’s face, and his attention was focused in every bit of intervention that came from Kaname’s mouth. Luckily, he’d said his piece of the speech as a representative for the special students that had benefited from HiMERU taking Tatsumi’s place in what came to the job distribution, so he could take in completely what Kaname had to say right after. It filled his heart with joy to see him so happy. His head began to wander slowly but surely into daydreaming, but before he could go too far into it, he heard Kaname whisper in Tatsumi’s direction. Apparently, his brother was in the crowd? He was glad that at least some of the family he had left made it here to watch him. Yet, he did not voice these thoughts. Instead, he just limited himself to listening; listening about how Tatsumi’s dream was childish, but that Kaname standing by him made him feel understood and overjoyed. Then, Kaname asked how he can trust him not to betray him. And when he answered that any smart man wouldn’t have come this far, he gave Haruki a knowing glance.

He felt like a bullet shot right through him. He didn’t think Tatsumi knew this kind of thing about him, but apparently, he did. He did, and he acknowledged that, much like himself and Kaname, he was an idiot for standing beside him. He could accept as much. But what really made his heart ache was that glint in Tatsumi’s eye. Kaname and Tatsumi shared the same impossible dream, they carried the same ideals, they supported their dream on each other. But what was his dream, really? Helping others? No, that wasn’t it. He was almost sure that if he hadn’t walked into the labor camp, he would’ve never thought much of the special student and non special student system. That left him with the possibility that hollowed out his heart the most: Kaname Tojou’s love was his impossible dream. He could never get it, not as long as Tatsumi was there for him. He could always get closer and closer, but the door to his heart would never open no matter how much he knocked on it. He had helped Kaname out of love, he was standing beside him because of sheer, unadulterated love. He sang for love so much that it ended up being drowned out. And such love got lost in the air. That’s why he should keep it. It hurt really bad to never be able to say it, but he understood either way. He did not cry, but nobody could deny him a bitter smile on his lips. Not even Tatsumi. He was condemned to keeping his feelings secret, but the show must go on.

And it indeed had to go on with or without Tatsumi, because he saw Tatsumi start to falter while standing. Without thinking about it much, he approached his other side fast in case Kaname and he had to help him. And after he asks Kaname to take care of everything in his place, he can hear the stream of insecurities from his part spill out again. Doing the only thing he could do, he reassured him that he wouldn’t be alone in taking the responsibility, that they could do it together, and that he would never leave him to carry such a burden alone. The most he could do was stand by his side either way, he thought. He would help him; he would be loyal. And he would be there for him for as long as he could.

The rest of the story happened way too fast, so much that it’s mostly a blur to him. But he quite remembers pushing against a sea of people, trying to reach out for Kaname’s hand and shouting his name, trying desperately to save him alongside Tatsumi, only to be pushed back and out of the stage and onto the seats below. He felt a deep, chilling fear overcome him in such an intense way that he started crying. It wasn’t because of what could happen to him, no, because even when he was surrounded by special students, he could not tear his eyes away from the stage. He could not take his eyes from the place where he had last seen Kaname in for anything in the world. He prayed to anything that might’ve been out there to save him, to let him see him again, maybe he could get up there again and actually grab him if he could see anything. Anything, anything that could stop Kaname from getting ripped to pieces. He tried with all his might to fight back against the people pinning him down and calling him a traitor, he did not have time for this. And it was like that for a few moments, a few moments of him getting hurt and him trying to get people off of him any way he could, trying to get up, trying to do anything, anything for him, anything for Kaname, anything for those dreams getting crushed right in front of him, he needed anything. And just when he saw a strand of that familiar soft blue hair that he dreamed about so much, glowing under the intense shine of the limelight, just when he saw anything that might’ve helped him save Kaname, spitting blood and crying out for the love he so wanted to protect, he felt as if someone had crushed his head. Everything went black after that.

Haruki's time in the hospital is not something he recalls too well, only having a small string of memories to go off of. There was the time when he'd just woken up and a nurse had to sedate him because of how distressed he'd been, yelling out Kaname's name, the random shots of the clinical white ceiling and walls of the room he was in... There was also the only visit he received, courtesy of his legal guardian, whose face he didn't recognize at all. Turns out he became face blind after getting his brain scrambled. He wasn't too surprised about that, after all, he did get hit pretty hard. It would've been a miracle for him to come out unscathed.

Eventually he was allowed to go home, after they'd tested the extent of his brain damage. When they were in the car, however, the woman in charge of him spoke up, uttered two sentences that made everything crash down onto him; "You’re getting transferred,” she said, with a tone far more neutral than it should’ve been, “you’re going to Yumenosaki.”

He felt shock, finding just a bit of relief in the fact that he wouldn’t have to go back to the place where his blood was spilled before feeling a horrible, growing pang of horror. He… really had no way of contacting Kaname. He didn’t have him added anywhere, he didn’t know where he lived or where he would stay if it wasn’t in the Reimei dorms, he wouldn’t know if he would even stay there anymore after everything that happened. He did not know any of his family, so he couldn't contact them. He didn’t know anything about Tatsumi either. He didn’t even know if Kaname was alive in the first place. He knew nothing about what happened to both of the boys he’d been with. It was over, just like that. All the dreams that Tatsumi held of making Reimei a better place and extending it to the idol industry, Kaname’s wish of family and safety, that yearning of love that he had held and sang for so long. It was all broken into a million pieces, trampled upon, never to be recovered and destined for oblivion. He would be snatched away, and that blue haired boy would be all but a distant memory.

Oh, how it hurt him. He felt an immense grief come over him when he realized that, now, all he could use to describe Kaname’s appearance was the color and style of his hair. It felt like he was missing so much more, like there was something he loved so much that he could no longer piece together. He was missing his face, and he knew for certain that he loved it with everything he had. And yet, he had forgotten everything. He saw lips, but they were not his. That nose and those eyes were not his. But he did not know his face anymore. The only thing he had left of him was his memories, and even then, they were warped. He could not see a smile that belonged to him, he couldn’t see expressions that were his. The more he remembered, the more it saddened him. But he couldn’t stop the memories from coming back to him, despite all this. The sound of his laugh enveloped him, he watched his hair sway as he danced, he almost had the soft texture of his skin below his fingertips. He was almost there.

Oh, how it hurt him. He felt an immense grief come over him when he realized that, now, all he could use to describe Kaname’s appearance was the color and style of his hair. It felt like he was missing so much more, like there was something he loved so much that he could no longer piece together. He was missing his face, and he knew for certain that he loved it with everything he had. And yet, he had forgotten everything. He saw lips, but they were not his. That nose and those eyes were not his. But he did not know his face anymore. The only thing he had left of him was his memories, and even then, they were warped. He could not see a smile that belonged to him, he couldn’t see expressions that were his. The more he remembered, the more it saddened him. But he couldn’t stop the memories from coming back to him, despite all this. The sound of his laugh enveloped him, he watched his hair sway as he danced, he almost had the soft texture of his skin below his fingertips. He was almost there.

As he cried and sobbed silently into the glass of the car window, he thought that, perhaps, the other half of his heart lay under stage lights, reflecting the picture of a sweet smile.

He did not know how much time passed, but he eventually ran out of tears to cry. He sat there, limbs limp and chest way too heavy, gaze lost and looking nowhere in particular, freckled cheeks soaked and breathing still irregular. He was still remembering all the times he had spent with the beloved ghost in his memories, never stopping for a second. Somehow, he knew the car stopped, he got out of it, he opened the door to an empty, cold home. He knows he fell onto furniture shortly after. But after that, he had been playing every memory he had of the blue haired boy, turning them around in his mind as if they were a jewel, looking at every single one of them with sorrow. He found tears to cry once more. And his throat felt raw, it was on fire, but he did not stop sobbing and screaming. He could’ve easily spent a thousand years like this.

Something above him seemed to pity him, at the very least. He lost consciousness at an undetermined point, having the reprieve of not thinking for just a few hours.

Deep inside, he wished to not wake up again. After slowly opening his eyes, he stared at the ceiling for a while, with his chest feeling hollow, so empty that he could shove anything inside it. Indeed, he had to look down to his body and feel up his abdomen, only to find that… He had been right. His torso, quite literally, had a gigantic hole in it, and his hand was going through it. He was touching the void inside the skin that covered his back. Yet, he did not startle at this. He contemplated the odd state of his body for a while before shrugging, proceeding to take his hand back out and get up from the couch.

Since he couldn’t feel hunger or his heart beating anymore, he decided to open the door to his house. He was met with another void, most of it pitch black, but mottled with white and red dots in the distance. And at the center of it all, a place where the void raised up to form a hill. On top of it was a big structure, shining brighter than any of the white dots he could see. It was almost like a beacon.

It felt too real to be a dream, and yet, he still felt calm. It was then that he decided to step out of his house, closing the door and starting to walk around. He did not go directly to the giant, glowing temple, instead deciding to walk aimlessly through the void. He couldn't care less if he got lost.

However, his indifference promptly disappeared once he could discern what the white and red dots were supposed to be. Corpses, all with different levels of physical integrity left. Attached to that which killed them, including other people. He could see the crimes that had happened, the accidents, all the wars, all the diseases. It was horrifying by itself just to see so many cadavers lying together, all dressed in similar uniforms, no matter what kind they were. He could see children of all ages, women, men, the elderly. And… He noticed something that filled him with even more deep horror. He could not see any of their faces. They had been hollowed out like his chest. He was staring at every single one of these people with no faces at all. It wasn’t long before he was crying in terror. He wished to run away, but he was deep into the void, and he did not know what direction he had come from anymore. He was running away from everything out of instinct. But it seemed like he could not escape the horror. He found himself face to face with the most recurring scenes in his nightmares; it was his father’s corpse, slumped over the void, knife in hand and blood pouring from his body. It was his aunt’s car, totaled, and inside of it, her dead body. It was his uncle’s hospital bed, his body covered in bloodied bandages. He screamed. He screamed over and over again. And he also screamed in hopes that somebody would hear him and rescue him from this hell. No one came, he was completely alone. It almost seemed like the entire world had died and he was the only one left. He didn’t want to be left alone. He could not handle it. He didn’t want to handle it anymore.

In the moment he had looked away, he noticed light in the corner of his eye. He turned his head, only to see that the far away hill was now just a few meters from him. He sprung up and immediately sprinted towards it, not thinking twice on how it seemed strange that it had moved on its own. The hill was steeper than what it looked like, but after making the effort to reach the top, he found himself face to face with the big, pure white building, which vaguely resembled a shrine. He couldn’t make out anything resembling an opening, but reaching out his hand, he found it went right through the wall. After making this discovery, he also didn’t think twice before he went through the wall and into the temple.

He wandered shining halls longer than he should have, noting how they didn’t match the exterior size of the building. Yet, he thought it was way better to be lost inside of this place than out wandering, where he saw… Horrible things that he didn’t wish to see. He was still trembling, tears starting to dry on his cheeks. The halls only got brighter until he reached a door with golden handles. It was almost unnoticeable, but it was there. He opened it and walked into the room, only to see how the door immediately slammed shut behind him. He also found himself enveloped by light. It was like he had walked into a star. Yet, it did not blind him. And after going just a few steps further, he discerned something in the light. It was a throne high up, where there was a figure sitting. And after he looked closer… It looked like him. It was him, except it glowed impossibly bright with white light. There was only a very faint outline of his hair, but the pink eyes that stared back at him were his. That was the only thing he needed to know that it was himself. He had forgotten every face he knew but his own. And he was not willing to let his face be taken away from him.

As he felt anger rise within him, he asked the figure who it was. It replied, in his voice, that it was God. And before he could ask anything else, it explained that it ruled over everything. Fate and the universe, everything responded to it. He was… Perplexed. He did not expect to meet God anytime soon. He wished he never did. He did not want to go to Heaven. He didn’t wish to go to an afterlife, really, because it meant he had to die. He didn’t want the cold grip of death to take him too. It was only natural to ask God if this was hell, since he had seen so many awful things on the way there. But God only said that he was in its lair now. He found it strange, how it avoided telling him.

He sat in the white nothingness for a while, trying to come up with something to say to it. From the looks of it, asking God what to do to go back to Earth wasn’t going to help that much, so he gave up on the possibility. After some time passed, where his thoughts seemed to swim and bleed into each other, he got a grasp on an idea; something that he could ask for, that maybe, just maybe, God could provide. All he could do was try. He hadn’t tried enough and that’s why he was here, after all.

He called to God’s attention right then and there, and then asked it for a favor. He asked it to make him switch places with Kaname. Something inside him told him that whatever happened to the boy was a cruel fate, so it’d been almost like a gut reaction to want Kaname to take his place instead; the ability to recognize faces might just be a small price to pay for being relatively unscathed, after all. If this was going to happen, if God was real and if he had to be stuck like this… He’d prefer to be stuck somewhere else. It only matters that it’s him and not Kaname. He’d take anything as long as Kaname was safe. He didn’t know what could happen, and the thought of dying petrified him, but the uncertainty of his safety was somehow even worse. Anything for those wonderful dreams, anything for him. His life didn’t mean anything without him, so it was only fair to give it up in his stead.

Despite everything, his pledge was denied. No explanation at all.

It was the last straw, really. He wasn’t even allowed a chance, like he couldn’t change anything at all. He could never save Kaname, not in life, or death, or Limbo. Intense sorrow boiled right into a flaming rage in a heartbeat, and soon he finds himself clawing his way up to the deity, ire spilling right from his eyes; he sees nothing but red, and his vision snaps right back to what’s in front of him at the sound of bones cracking. He finds God’s gaping mouth filled with divine blood, expression just like that of dead fish. It’s like he’s looking at his own corpse. Looking a little further down, he finds his hands bloodied in gold and starlight, light seeping out in an endless river down his fingers, past his palms, soaking up to his arms. His nails dug deep into the flesh. It seems he’d gripped it so tightly he’d gone through every layer, breaking its neck in the process. Pulling his hands from it, he finds that he's holding a jewel in the shape of a vertebra. He marvels at it for but a moment.

Then, he remembers what had made him mad. It flares right back up, and his wrath seems endless as he pounces right back onto the godly cadaver. He claws at everything he can find, ripping all he can touch, pulling, contorting, deforming. He strikes it over and over again. Every single bit of fury he has ever felt fuels him.

By the end of it, there is nothing recognizable about it. It doesn’t look like him anymore. It doesn’t even look like anything. It is nothing but sparkly carnage.

He feels more than hollow as he goes back down, leaving the meat on its seat as he settles back onto the floor. He lays there and stares into the white void. There is nothing for him to do after having killed the ruler of everything; he doesn’t regret it, but there is nothing else in the room. It’s him and his failure to help Kaname.

There is nothing to be done. He still misses him. More than anything.

Tears well back up again, and he covers his face with both of his hands, painting it gold without realizing it. A different thing he doesn’t realize, however, is the shadow that’s been lurking in a corner. It slithers until it reaches his side.

In a break from his grief, he spots something dark in the corner of his eye; he looks at it, finding inky darkness on the ground. With no eyes to be seen, it was staring at him. He stared right back, holding eye contact for a while before it spoke to him, thousands of voices echoing on the walls. It was Death.

It was quite surprising, to be able to meet Death itself. Even more surprising was that he wasn’t scared of it. It was cold but comforting. Certain.

He had only one question for it. “Why?” he whispered.

It whispered back. “Because everything meets its end one day.”

The simple answer was enough to shake him to his core. It was what he was running from all along. It was the truth that lay in front of him all this time. He was unable to see it before; there was no culprit, there was nothing to fear.

And he accepted that with a smile.

He lays back down as the shadow rises from the ground and slowly forms a skull on itself, leaning over him as if to envelop him. He lets it embrace him, and in return, he embraces back. It sifts into him like fog, and he sinks as he dies.

It's certain that Haruki died then. He just woke up different. 

He found himself opening his eyes slowly again, greeted by the same ceiling of his house. He stared for a while, again, before reaching down his torso to corroborate if it was still hollow. On the good side, he did have his guts back. On the bad side, he didn’t remember being that skinny, or that his ribs were as noticeable before, for that matter. When he got up from the couch, his legs felt very unstable, he felt like he might fall at any moment. An awful pang of hunger nestled itself deep within his stomach, rumbling with extreme demand. If he wanted to see anything, he had to push his hair back so it wouldn’t get on his eyes. Many things had changed, and he felt like he was in a very bad state. He did not know how much time had passed since that time he fell asleep. Even as he felt like he was at the brink of death, he walked to the window, opening the curtain. He was met by a beautiful multicolored sky, different hues meeting, pink clouds scattered across the landscape, the sun slowly rising in the far distance. It was something he could not forget. He was famished, he had come back from hell, the grief had not disappeared. But he felt… Free. That which bound him by his hands and feet was no more. His fears were gone. He was different, he could feel it. And it brought him the biggest relief he’s ever experienced. And this just confirmed one thing; no matter what happened, he would get to see dawn break until the end. And he was more than alright with knowing that.

Even if he was alone, dawn would break once again.

It took him a while to get himself together after this. He was at least glad that he still had time before he had to show up at his new academy, since he still needed a while to reflect on things. It’s more accurate to call it a metamorphosis rather than a reflection. He did not cut his hair, instead letting it grow until it reminded him of those blue locks that he could almost see in the corner of his eye. And although he corrected most of the deplorable condition he had found himself in, it seemed that he was stuck being underweight. But the biggest change was not apparent to the eye, at least. 

Most of his time was spent doing research about his most recent subject of interest: Death itself. He might’ve read through half of all the resources he could find on the field of thanatology, learning many things about the process of decomposition, as well as the different views on death by cultures and religions all around the world. It was all extremely fascinating to him. And, in the middle of this pursuit of knowledge, he realized something about himself. He had done his idol activities through his entire career without having anything close to a stage persona, relying solely on his abilities and whatever image was pushed onto him. He hadn’t seen the point in thinking about it before, operating on the principle that he was doing this in memory of his father, and that he was good at it and well liked by the public was just a plus. 

Yet, it made sense to him now. 

He realized that he could use his music to convey something, to show the world something about himself. And it could be anything he wanted it to be. Then, why not put on Death’s skin? Why not dress himself in every color that Death painted on every living thing, why not sing the praises and tales of the end through a voice that could convey its beauty, its ugliness, its suddenness, its happiness and everything in between? Why not spread the hope to be found in Death’s trail, when misery envelops and the dust settles? What could ever stop him from sharing the grief and love that flows out of Death’s robes like the river Styx itself? Who could ever deny him the thousand scents of funeral incense, of spider lilies, of chrysanthemums? Or the temptation to be found in sweet death, or in the little death that sweeps in for just a moment?

He could be Ophelia. He could be both Eurydice and Orpheus, and he could be Persephone herself. He could be Achilles’ grip on Patroclus’ corpse, strong despite the sorrow that coursed through his veins. He could be the poison in the snake’s teeth, he could be the sickening, whimsical urge that compelled Icarus to fly close to the sun; he could be an omen, he could be the transition between peace and ruin. He could perform for Death’s gaze.

And, most importantly, he could dance with Death itself.

He only had to learn a few more vocal techniques to be able to properly express all of these ideals, but in the end, he got it. He could see that familiar skull of a million faces on his shoulder the entire time, and he felt the gentle hold of Death guiding him through. And, finally, his role was consummated when he entered a lonely waltz with an invisible figure who was perfectly in sync with him. In the end, he fell to the floor, limp from overexertion. But he felt satisfied, knowing he had pleased his dance partner.

There was a newly found pleasure in dancing with Death.

More time passed until it was finally time to attend his new school, Yumenosaki Academy. He didn’t feel aversion towards the idea of going to a different high school anymore, but he still wondered where Kaname was constantly. He could only hope that a fate like his befell him and that he was going to a different idol academy. And while thinking about him depressed him, he embraced the grief.

He didn't quite expect to meet his two greatest friends at his new school, but nonetheless it happened: after a disastrous first day of school shared between the three of them, it seemed as if he'd immediately bonded with the two peculiar people he met. On one hand was the tall, dark skinned gyaru with the peppy attitude whom he learned was named Shion, and who turned out to be one of the two additions to the newly founded Producer Course. Alongside Shion, he met Lune; a foreign exchange student from Germany, and literally the tallest person he's ever met. Considering his muscular build, he would be very intimidating if it weren't for his gentle face and shy demeanor. He didn't speak much Japanese, so that certainly contributed to him being withdrawn at the time.

Upon meeting them further, he realized a few things about his newly made friends. One was that Shion is way more capable and clever whenever she's doing producer work instead of failing at playing charades with Lune. Two was that Lune was very sweet and thoughtful whenever people could actually understand him, and he just so happened to be one of them, thanks to being able to speak English. Three was that they shared similar thoughts and ideas that complemented one another quite nicely.

So, it wasn't a surprise that they created a unit together. Memori, taken from Memento Mori, was a concept that fit Lune and him like a glove. Lune, being prone to nostalgia and deeply attached to bygone times, represented the Memento side of things; and of course, he's quite confident that he can fulfill the job of representing Mori, knowing what he knows. Shion was more than interested in the unit, contrasting her bright exterior, so she appointed herself as their producer right away. Haruki was named leader, and for all intents and purposes, this was his fresh start.

It was, in a lot of ways. But there was always something.

There was always something haunting him, and he knew exactly what it was. There was always a deep hole in his chest, insatiable, unfillable, and he knew exactly why it was there.

Kaname never escaped his mind. It seemed as if he was everywhere, just waiting to appear. Just waiting for him to search. Lune reminded him way too much of Kaname and it burned. He tried to keep his distance as best as he could, as far as living with him and being together a good chunk of the day would allow him, anyway.

He looked for love in places that had none and escaped anywhere he could. He went wherever he could fill the void. Whether that was a party, a park or someone’s arms depended solely on the weather. He kind of succeeded in that aspect, but only for a moment. A moment was enough. At least, that’s what he liked to believe. 

To this day it baffles him that Shion and Lune still kept him around in spite of everything, and sometimes, when things weren't so bad, they'd spend time together. He cherishes it dearly, and, deep inside, wished to lose himself in the warmth of their smiles. He wished things were different for them, too. But most of all, he wished he didn’t have to run away. From his friends, from Kaname Tojou. From himself.

He still hoped that maybe it wasn't too late for him to change. Maybe there was a way for him. And certainly, the next year brought a number of changes in his life: one of them was the state of the side of the industry he was in. The implementation of the Ensemble Square project changed up the game, what with having to choose an agency to join and the rise of a "city of idols and for idols". He definitely had an offhanded thought of admiration at the novelty of the concept, but not much more. After a discussion with Lune, they decided not to move to the dorms that would be built there, and decided to go under Rhythm Link's label.

The second change that came to him was about his appearance. It was brought upon him by none other than Shion herself, who visited his house on an especially chilly winter day with the excuse of hanging out with them and a good cup of hot cocoa. They, indeed, hung out and had hot cocoa, with marshmallows on top, even; but they also got a crash course on how to do makeup, accompanied by a makeover. This ended up in him getting a brand new haircut along with a pink underdye, accentuating the vague heart shape Shion had chosen for his bangs and over all giving him a new perspective on his presentation. He felt more like himself this way. He's almost sure Shion is psychic because of this moment, but hey, that doesn't mean he didn't thank her properly. She did a job well done, especially considering just how Ringu-adjacent he looked prior to this.

Just like this, the new year rolls over, spring goes without too many hiccups, and out comes summer. 

Summer doesn't pose much difficulty outside of what would be normal upon adapting to a different environment, having to find a balance between work at ES and school hours. He found that they got a bigger workload, but it wasn’t something that they couldn’t handle. It shocked him, actually, that the increment in fans was almost proportional to the amount of jobs they took. But it was a good kind of shock. It felt like his mood was slowly shifting because of these positive changes, although grief still hung over him like an overarching shadow. Stage lights still reflected the prism of the scarred heart he wore, but at least the light that came out of it and lit up the entire venue burned in his own colors, in the enrapturing color that Death decided to take upon on that same day. It was never quite the same, but that was part of the appeal.

It was also in summer that a very familiar color came back to his life. It was just by pure coincidence, he was just walking around the ES building, directing himself to the office so he could talk with Shion about the details of Memori's next live. He had not been expecting anything. He had not expected anything, and yet, upon turning the corner, he had found a man leaning against the wall next to a door. And just a moment after, his heart almost jumped out of his throat upon processing a certain trait: Silky sky-blue hair resting upon the man's shoulder, hair sticking out in places and a long strand of hair across the face. It felt like getting shot in the chest, eyes going wide and catching himself just in time to not physically recoil. He had almost screamed. Almost, almost. He almost said that name, only getting to croak out the first syllable before hiding behind the wall. His head was incredibly messed up, everything coming back and flooding. Could it have been Kaname Tojou himself in the flesh? Not just a specter? It had to be. It seemed to be real, he was not phasing through the wall, he had tilted his head, his hair followed it and flowed into his left shoulder. Who else could it be if not him? He could recognize him anywhere, after all. It was to be expected when it felt like he was everywhere. Oh, but he was finally here. He was here, here, in front of him. He wanted to run, to hold him and never let go again. He could stay here, right here. He would never leave again. His blood would never be spilled again. No one would lay his hands on him again. He would never allow it. He’d let Death take him in a heartbeat if it came down to it.

Ah, right. He still had to check if it was him. It seemed like common sense went hand in hand with sanity, and he felt both slip him at the moment.

He took a few seconds to catch his breath and put on his best mask, finally walking out into the hallway and approaching him. It looked like he was keeping his cool, ironically enough. The boy in question was facing toward his phone, most probably focused. He could almost feel bad for interrupting, almost. He wouldn't have interrupted if only he hadn't spent a restless year thinking about him every day. The big question finally escaped his lips, preceded by a small, shaky sigh that he couldn’t contain in time. "Are you HiMERU?", he hoped it was him.

"Yes, this is HiMERU. It’s nice to see you again, Yasuda.”, he said. It was him, that was his voice. It was just like how he remembered. The timbre was the same, the intonation was almost identical to how it was back then. It had truly been him. It was him, him, Kaname Tojou, Kaname, Kaname, stage name HiMERU, HiMERU, those two names he treasured so much. It had been so long that he swears he heard a hint of kindness to his tone. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him, deprived of oxygen for the past few minutes, but it did not matter. He loved him so, so much; it all came back to him so fast, like a flash, like a bullet laced with venom, like a deep burn that consumed him from the inside. He was falling once again, gravity pulling him to the ground and threatening to expose everything. It overflowed at an alarming rate, his love, his pain, his everything, really. But no one could take this away from him, no one could take Kaname Tojou away from him again. He was here, here, right here with him. It was him. It was him, standing just a few meters away from him, with his beautiful blue hair that was just at arm’s reach, and his stature, and his nice outfit, and his nice hands adorned by rings, and his voice, and his cologne that was so tantalizingly overpowering; he was HiMERU, he was Kaname and he was everything he ever wanted. He was love itself, which had burrowed deep into his chest a long time ago. He was brought to his life once again, and he was carrying his heart with him. His mind raced with everything and nothing at the same time, he was a mess, he couldn’t think straight, but he accepted his heart back. It was placed right back where it belonged. He had felt everything once again, but he could only express it through a smile that he wasn’t quite sure what it looked like.

And still, all he knew was that his fate was sealed once again. He stayed there for quite a while that day, standing in front of him, talking about multiple things that seemed like so much and nothing at all at the same time; he might’ve been able to give him a way more interesting conversation in any other situation, but all he wanted at that moment was to keep hearing his voice. It did not matter if it was just a hum of affirmation, a small confirmation that he was listening or any sound at all, he would keep babbling on and on to the best of his ability if it meant that he would keep answering him. It had been far too long since he last heard him, and the fact that he would no longer have his screams as the most recent memory of his voice… He could cry.

Eventually his own phone pinged with messages from a certain blonde girl who sent him a barrage of complaints, yet even this wasn’t enough to drag him out. Indeed, it had to be his old friend getting a notification sound too, checking it out and then letting out a small exasperated huff. The meeting he was waiting for had been moved to an entirely different place, and when he asked where he had to go, the direction that he pointed at was the opposite way of where Shion demanded him to show up. It meant they had to say goodbye. A cold shiver ran down his spine at the thought of saying goodbye once again to him, and still, he did. Painfully, stiffly, sadly so.

Yet, when he saw that blue hair turn around with its owner to go about his day, convenient knowledge came back to him; he could ask for his contact information, no matter if it was Hold hands or anything else. He did not have to go again, he could be here again, there for him, always just at the tip of his finger. It was now or never, he knew it, he was just about to turn the corner and he’d be too far away and who in the actual hell knows when he’d find him again? He was not willing to give up again. So, he acted upon instinct, finally; he shouted for his name (HiMERU, that is. He could never forget the discretion required to keep him safe) and then he ran. It did not take him more than a few moments to reach him at the end of the hallway, after all he did run like he was getting chased after, but it did not matter. All that mattered was that he got to ask for his socials in between small gasps for air, that HiMERU entered them into his phone after exhaling a little himself, that he instantly texted him something and he immediately responded. They could finally go their separate ways. Just for now, though. He had many things to say to him, so many things to do with him, so many possibilities. And all of them meant the world to him, if it meant he could get to spend time with HiMERU.

That's how they started reconnecting. First through text conversations in the midst of summer, then hanging out together on humid, cooler days; it was more than surreal, to him, to be able to see him again. Though he got more familiarized and comfortable as they saw each other more, it didn't mean that the dreamlike fog surrounding HiMERU had dissipated. He couldn't be blamed too much for this, since he'd only been able to dream of talking to him once more for a long while. Sure, some things had changed, Kaname seemed more mature than before, more open to complex conversations. He was knowledgeable, too, way more than the boy he knew in the past, but he attributed it to him probably reading more books during his hospital stay. It was at the height of his excited stupor, which happened to coincide with his first time going out with HiMERU, that he'd found the spark of motivation to paint him. He painted and painted until it was morning, only to find that he couldn't complete his work: the portrait was missing its face, and, well, it wasn't like he could trust himself to accurately depict it. He put it away, deflated by defeat and the sharp, cold reminder of what was now gone from him. Eventually he'd succeed in distracting himself from this, with all the memories he'd been making with HiMERU, all the things he learned about him and just how sweet it all felt, but it remained hidden in a corner of his room, covered by a cloth. 

A fun fact about their outings, though, is that they gave him hope. Specifically, the hope that maybe, just maybe, he would get a chance with Kaname; after all, he would often feel as if they were going on dates, instead of meeting just as friends. There was something so warm about the way HiMERU talked to him, along with everything he would share with him. It didn't even have to be said in words, as he would often suggest a place for them to go to that turned out to be somewhere he frequented. He was probably mistaken, but... a guy can dream.

He loved everything about the reintroduction of his old friend and crush into his life, and he had been charmed for a good while. But eventually, that soft, sweet veil of sentimentalism dropped from his eyes, and he had a very poignant, yet obvious realization.

He loved everything about the reintroduction of his old friend and crush into his life, and he had been charmed for a good while. But eventually, that soft, sweet veil of sentimentalism dropped from his eyes, and he had a very poignant, yet obvious realization.

This, truly, was not Kaname.

Sure enough, it was HiMERU, the very perfected execution of that stage persona that Kaname could not live up to no matter how he tried. This was that calm, mature, cool headed idol who sang in a beautiful, enchanting voice and gave equally elegant and graceful performances. This was the realization of what HiMERU was supposed to mean to the public, to fans, to producers, to fellow idols, to the person behind the mask. There was not a trace of that pretentiousness that came off at first, nor the innocence hidden under layers of pride or the childishness that had characterized Kaname Tojou so thoroughly, a personality so painfully noticeable that came through at every given moment, no matter where or how. He loved every single bit of it deeply, but he knew that Kaname could never pull off such a persona with a personality like his. Someone else can, though. Perhaps it would be someone with no childhood innocence left to be seen in plain sight for it to be an obstacle, someone calculating and methodical, someone who knew all the steps to accomplish the disguising of the self, someone who could successfully step into any given role.

He could notice it right away after his vision cleared because his nature was the same, talented in changing most everything about himself for the sake of the spectacle presented on stage. He was extremely shocked that it took him so long to realize that he was not talking or hanging out with Kaname, but he also realized that… He was looking for Kaname where he couldn’t be found. His mind tricked itself, being so terribly attached to the idea that he was alive and well and in front of him that he did not even stop to think, did not even stop to analyze for just a second that none of the conversations they had would be something that Kaname would say or even think about, that the man right in front of him moved with an elegance and a control utterly improper of Kaname Tojou, that even when he used the pronoun “I” to speak to him he sounded nothing like Kaname, not a single syllable, nothing. It was not the pitch or the tone or the accent but his words. Every single word coming out of his mouth was not Kaname’s. Every single word texted to him by this man was never Kaname’s. Especially not when he asked him about the past. He knew, for certain, that Kaname would not ask about what they did, no matter how subtly the question was presented, no matter how well he’d try to dissimulate it. It did not make any sense at all, and he felt extremely stupid for not realizing it sooner.

And the worst part about it… is that he still loved it all. Even after realizing that this guy was not Kaname Tojou but rather someone impersonating his stage persona, his feelings stayed similar. It was not entirely about seeing the potential of HiMERU realized at its peak and seeing just how brightly he could shine when interpreted by someone skilled, but it was also about said actor. The lines between HiMERU and the person playing him were more than blurred together, but that only displayed a level of mastery and performance that were extremely elevated. Being able to fit a role so solidly as to make it almost everything about your life and how you interact with others, not even stepping out of the costume during your free time… He found it all extremely admirable, and, surprisingly enough, attractive. He knew he was talking to someone with a great level of skill, someone who had curated his persona carefully, someone intelligent and very knowledgeable, someone who could read the atmosphere and even the people around him well. Yet, this was not what set his feelings up. It was the tiny cracks in this extremely elaborate performance that he was putting on at all times, it was the genuine emotion that leaked out and dripped right at his feet, it was when he said “I”. Even just through the use of a pronoun he felt the person behind the mask quite closely, he felt his emotion just from the intonation, he could see the thought process behind the words he spoke, he could almost see a glimpse of the past in the way he said things. He saw him. He saw the jeweled prism of him, polished perfectly into a curious shape that reflected whatever it wanted to, in this case, it was HiMERU; however, he could also see the grooves of him reflected in the image of HiMERU, like the water at the bottom of a pool. He saw the cold shimmer of his demeanor, the sad tint of it all that indicated that there was something else going on, deep inside. But he’d also seen devotion. He knew how devotion felt and looked as if he had been experiencing it his whole life, and although he knew that he would not say why it swirled with the sadness deep inside of him, he found it captivating. It felt almost like looking into his own soul. He knew, for certain, that he loved this man and wanted to know more about him.

Even after figuring out what he felt about the man right in front of him, he did not know how to feel about the situation as a whole. It was all extremely peculiar, he realized; he was faced with a man who sounded and, he presumed, looked exactly like Kaname Tojou and acted as HiMERU. Although he felt affection and an ever growing love towards him, he did not even know his name. He didn’t know… anything about him, actually, other than his personality. That alone was a bit alarming. He also didn’t know if he had known Kaname, which, if he did, it would kind of explain why he was able to imitate his physical appearance and voice so well, otherwise he might’ve just watched Kaname’s performances obsessively to be able to do that, the thought of which made his skin crawl.

Though the most pressing issue of all was, well, where’s Kaname? If this HiMERU was not him, then, truly, what happened to him? Had he retired from his idol career after everything that happened (thing which he would completely understand)? Had he disappeared off the face of the earth? Was his intuition right all along and he was currently two meters under the dirt, bugs and maggots finding sustenance in the corpse that once had been everything he had left, the only thing he wanted to fight for? Had he died violently, beaten to a broken pile of bones and dreams, innocence shattered and spilled all over a stage? Or had he wasted away at a hospital, getting worse by the second, colors abandoning him completely, his beautiful smile slipping into the void where not even its light could be found?

A lot of possibilities raced through his brain, firing up his braincells fast enough to rapidly set in an all consuming anxiety in his body. He didn’t know how much time he spent like that, frozen on the spot, shaking and afraid, overwhelmingly so. He had the luck of being snapped out of it once Lune had to unlock the door to his room with his own keys, getting grounded in reality, realizing that he had just spent the entire night of the previous day and the entire morning of the current one just going through everything that could’ve happened to his old friend and crush. This was the first time he had been gone for such a long amount of time in a good couple of months. He knew that this was not good, based on everything he’s had to live through up to this point. He also knew that if anyone had the key to telling him what was going on and what happened to Kaname Tojou, it was HiMERU’s current actor. He was almost certain that he would connect the dots about what he wanted to know, having previously realized that he would, one day, finally open his eyes and demand answers. He also hoped that he had not misjudged his character, that this man had enough of a moral compass to be honest with him. So, after composing himself with the help of his white haired friend, he made the decisive blow that would either lead him to the truth or to the search of it by himself.

It was a single text to HiMERU’s phone number: “Until you tell me the truth, you won’t see me again. I trust you.”

He hoped he had not misplaced his trust, too.

Either way, all he could do was wait.

_{in case you want a continuation!}