Tick, tock.
The second hand of the pocket watch he held turns. The glass was all shattered, making it hard to see the exact time, but he could roughly guess.
4 PM. Upon confirming it, the man in shabby attire stood up. That was all, yet the surrounding air vibrated roughly. As if rejecting him, but the man paid no attention to the trembling air. Instead, he raised his head.
[Trinity General School.]
Beneath that sign, someone's head was hanging like a piece of fruit.
Not just one. A number of heads hard to count with both hands adorned the space below the sign. Some had their spine exposed, some were cleanly severed at the neck. But none were bleeding. Because they had already bled all they could.
Most heads were wearing helmets. He didn't want to see, nor was he curious about, the faces inside. The man stared expressionlessly at the dead heads while biting his tongue, then slowly turned his head away.
The sky was gloomy. It looked like rain would pour down any moment. Since the news that would tell the weather forecast had been paralyzed a while ago, he couldn't know the exact weather, but it just felt that way. The man put the pocket watch he was holding into his chest pocket and entered Trinity School.
The school's frontscape, once elegant and noble, had no intact places left. The beautiful fountain was destroyed without leaving a trace, and the restaurants popular with students had become ruins. Plants had grown thickly due to the disappearance of human touch. It wasn't a pleasant sight.
It didn't matter anymore. The man weakly laughed, huh, and moved his steps. Passing the shattered chapel, passing the central building with half of it gone, he finally arrived at a building with a nameplate reading 'Relief Knight Club'. He briefly stroked his face with his only right arm, then entered the building holding an awkward smile.
The building once bustling with medical personnel no longer had anyone left. Only the smell of medicines and supplies left behind filled the desolate space. The man breathed in that scent of death and approached a bed in the corner of the room where someone lay.
"I'm back."
No answer came. It was always like that. He forced a bitter smile, dragged a chair over, and slumped onto it.
"Luckily no one invaded today. Is it because I wiped out everyone nearby, or because this place has become a land where no one can live anymore?"
"......"
"......It doesn't matter now anyway. Except for D.U., everywhere is like this."
The girl with beautiful blonde hair and eyes, and huge fox ears sprouting from her head, maintained her silence as always. Her eyes were open, but her mouth never opened. Her halo didn't exist in the first place.
It's okay. Her heart is still beating. She's just fallen into a deep sleep.
The man believed so. Otherwise, he felt he would collapse, so he had to believe it.
He reached out to stroke the girl's, Seia's, head, but seeing his blood-stained hand, withdrew his arm. He was sure he had wiped it clean, when did it get stained again? He clicked his tongue and roughly wiped the blood with an alcohol swab.
It didn't come off. No matter how much he rubbed with the swab, no matter how much alcohol he poured, the dark red stain wouldn't disappear from his hand. Instead, it crawled up his arm as if to cover his upper body. Only then did the man let out a sigh, ah.
'A hallucination.'
The moment he realized, the dark red bloodstains disappeared as if they were a lie. The man let out a deep sigh and dropped his hand. He reminded himself that his hands were no longer clean enough to embrace someone. It wasn't that unfair.
How many lives had he ended with these hands? He didn't know. He stopped counting after passing a hundred. He could console himself saying it was self-defense, that he had no choice to protect what was his, but the man didn't want to act that ugly. Because he had killed even those who begged for their lives while starving. Were they truly deserving of death?
No way. He still regrets it. Back then, he was blinded by rage and hatred, but not now. At the very least, he should have spared those who begged for their lives. No matter how mad he had become, he shouldn't have abandoned the last shred of humanity.
......He wasn't thinking of impaling the heads of those he killed himself. Trying to play the hypocrite? The man spilled a self-mocking laugh and hung his head. No matter how much he defended himself, his status as a murderer wouldn't change. Even if the law to judge his crimes had disappeared.
"......Seia, what would Nagisa say if she saw me now?"
Kirifuji Nagisa. A girl with a calm impression, ash-brown hair and eyes. She crumbled with a smile until the very end. Even while dying at the hands of Arius, those bastards not even worth chewing. Even when I, failing to make it in time, couldn't save her. Instead of blaming anyone, she smiled.
-I'm glad the last person I see is you.
-Please tell Mika... I'm sorry. And Seia too. If I had believed in them a little more... this wouldn't have happened.
-I'm sorry. And I love you...
The man twisted the corner of his mouth and stroked the amputated surface of his left arm.
The arm he had no choice but to cut off after being hit by an Arius grenade. If he had made the decision faster, cut off the arm without hesitation, if he had shaken off his aversion to killing sooner and killed the Arius bastards. Could he have saved Nagisa then?
It was a meaningless assumption. No matter how much he racked his brain, the dead wouldn't return. So it was right to shake off such attachments as soon as possible. But... if that were as easy as saying it, he wouldn't be guarding Seia in a coma like this. He would have sent her off painlessly himself, and ended his own life.
"......"
The man quietly got up and brought the nutritional supplements placed in the corner. They were essential items for Seia, who couldn't eat anything. He put the supplements into the IV bag and stuck the sharp needle into Seia's arm. Her arm, pale beyond white, had prominent veins, so sticking the needle wasn't difficult.
Should I be glad about this? ......Well, it's a small mercy amidst misfortune.
The man smiled with difficulty and administered the supplements. Drops fell, and the yellowish supplements slowly entered Seia's body. With this, she could survive for about another week.
He suddenly thought of the Teacher. He heard they still hadn't regained consciousness, like Seia, and wondered if they were being cared for properly. At least they were hospitalized at D.U.'s still-intact hospital, so the situation would be better than here.
He thought about moving Seia there too, but unfortunately, he couldn't. Since he was already branded a massacrer and given the status of a shoot-on-sight target, taking her to D.U. was no different from suicide. He'd just become a sieve from all kinds of gunfire, with no chance of survival.
He could resist if he wanted, but then he couldn't guarantee Seia's safety. It was obvious she'd also be in danger, either hit by stray bullets or labeled a collaborator in the massacre.
Better not to go then. If someone had to die, one person was enough. No need for Seia to die too.
The moment he thought that, a small noise reached his ears. Footsteps. And not just one set, but many. The man clicked his tongue and stood up from his seat. Then he mumbled while looking at Seia.
"......I'll be right back, just going to the bathroom."
It was a lie.
The man left the building where Seia stayed and moved with trudging steps. Then the irritating noise in his ears gradually grew louder. When the noise eventually reached its peak, he was standing at the entrance of Trinity General School.
"......You came out."
A voice came. The man rolled his eyes and stared at the source of the voice.
There, those wrapped in white coats from head to toe, wearing gas masks, stood facing him in numbers. The weapons in their hands were full of mud or blood, and quite a few were missing limbs. The man stared at them intently, then twisted the corner of his mouth and laughed.
It was clearly a sneer.
"The lucky survivors brought their idiot friends along."
"......You die here."
"You're all so foolish too. What's left to gain here that you cling to this godforsaken piece of land?"
Black liquid dripped from the man's hand. Phantom pain and burning pain were felt from the amputated surface of his arm. The pain soon transformed into blatant hatred and hostility.
"Was shattering the treaty not enough? Was killing Gehenna's Discipline Committee Head not enough? Were you not satisfied with killing Trinity's Student Council President? Was the Nameless One sweeping through this place also not enough to sate you bastards?"
"We only wish for Madame's revenge."
At someone's remark, the man smiled with difficulty and clenched his fist. A flow of fear starting from his heart began to spread through his blood vessels to every corner of his body. He took a step forward and whispered in a flat voice.
"Revenge, I wish for that too."
Crunch. The patch of ground the man stood on crumbled.
Blood surges with every movement. Blood soaked into his clothes heavily weighs down his entire body. His hair, thoroughly soaked red, had hardened, and just brushing it caused blood-dust to pour down. But the man paid no mind.
He lowered his gaze. Emotionless black eyes took in the surroundings.
Red.
Wherever he looked, it was red. Corpses formed mountains and blood formed seas. Pink intestines were scattered everywhere, and pieces of flesh and brain fragments mixed with the red waves. The man stood in the middle of it all and wiped the bloodstains from his face.
"Mon... gurgle... ster......"
A voice came. The man rolled only his eyes to identify the owner. A girl with ordinary looks, her lower half gone.
The man stared at her briefly, then raised his foot and stomped on her head, crushing it. Flesh fragments scattered, and red blood and transparent cerebrospinal fluid adorned the ground along with bone fragments. The man looked down at the scene for a moment, then exhaled, hoo, and turned his head toward the sky.
The sky was full of twilight. A light too dark for dawn, too bright for dusk. In that light, the man contorted his face and turned his body. As if fleeing from the light.
His blood-stained arm trembled violently. Days when he kills something are always like this. His mind is chaotic, and the trembling of his entire body doesn't stop. The man forgot about the blood dripping from his entire body and entered the building where Seia slept.
"......"
He plopped down on the empty chair. Though his surroundings were tinged red, he wasn't at leisure to care about such things.
Silence encroached on the space. The terrible smell of blood mixed with the smell of medicine, numbing his nose. Only Seia's breathing, the sound of blood droplets falling, and the man's rough breaths filled the surroundings.
Soon, the man's mouth opened. But what came out wasn't words, but a laugh with no meaning.
".........Huh."
His vision blurred. The tip of his nose stung, and the corners of his mouth trembled. Liquid flowing from his eyes fell into the blood-colored puddle formed on the floor. Ripples formed in the puddle. The man, unable to watch any longer, tightly closed his eyes.
What right do I have to cry? What exactly did I do right?
Emotions swayed unstablely.
Aversion to killing. The relief of having killed well. Guilt. Rationalization. Despair. Sorrow, all mixed together, seemed to press down on and tear apart his brain. Is what's flowing from my eyes really tears? If so, are they tears of joy, or tears of sorrow?
He couldn't be sure. If only what flowed from his eyes was blood instead of tears. Then he wouldn't need to think such thoughts.
The moment he thought it, an impulse to crush his eyeballs arose.
Was there any reason to hesitate?
The man stretched out his trembling hand and brought it to his right eyeball. Pressing firmly in that state, guk, a pain as if the eyeball would burst was felt. Just a little more. The man thought so and added more strength to his hand.
Just before it would be crushed.
"......!"
Tap.
Seia's hand tapped the man's arm. The man hurriedly turned his head toward her. But Seia's condition hadn't changed. Her halo was still off, and her opened eyes were staring blankly into space. Yet her hand, a pale and gaunt hand, was slightly stretched out toward his arm.
How? Does it make sense for only her arm to move while unconscious?
The man immediately held that question while carefully grasping Seia's hand. Then, as if it were a lie, the question disappeared. Instead, another thought pushed into his head.
It's cold. Simultaneously warm. The warmth of a person, felt for the first time in a long while, sliced his flesh into pieces while seeping into his heart, adding warmth.
"......Huu...... Kueuk*......"
The man sobbed quietly and struggled not to lose that warmth. For a long while. Even as the sun set and rose again, he didn't leave Seia's side.
And so, several days later.
Color returned.
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