"How noisy," our introverted friend said on a bus full of schoolchildren—or those who had just graduated.

  "Did I have to join you?" I asked, turning my head to look at my neighbor.

  "What?! Hey, don't take it all out on me! You agreed to this, so sit still!" he said disapprovingly, casting a quick but sharp glance at me.

  My first friend, Kichiro-kun, sat next to me, comfortably reclined in his seat, his legs slightly apart, one hand resting on the backrest, the other lazily fiddling with the hem of his T-shirt. He was dressed in his usual loose clothes—not surprising, since we had just graduated, though even during school he rarely wore his full uniform. He's wearing a black T-shirt with a slightly faded print—it looks like an old band logo, white sweatpants with black stripes—over them, black jeans, slightly worn at the knees, and scuffed sneakers that have clearly seen thousands of steps. His black hair is neatly combed (surprisingly for him), a little longer than usual, falling slightly over his forehead. His eyes are brown, lively, with a constant sparkle—as if a small spark of joy always burns within him. He's a few centimeters taller than me... well, a few centimeters—if you look at him for the first time, you immediately want to say "six-foot giraffe." In reality, the difference is only a head, but in the cramped bus, it feels like a whole tower.

  In short, he was a cheerful person. He always found interesting adventures and told me funny stories that happened to him (often exaggerating three times for dramatic effect). But he loved to tease and taunt me and a few others—sometimes so subtly that you didn't realize it at first, and then it was too late to take offense.

  "What are we talking about without me?" a familiar voice called from behind, and he squeezed into the aisle of the bus—the very one Kichirou-kun loved to tease and tease in earnest.

  He was dressed in a green T-shirt with a simple print, black pants, and white sneakers, slightly yellowed at the edges from frequent wear. His hair was as black as Kichirou-kun's, but slightly shorter and always slightly disheveled, as if he'd just gotten out of bed. His eyes were black and sharp, with that look that could shift from lazy indifference to fury in a second if someone dared interrupt his game. He loved video games—ready to tear to pieces anyone who interfered with his normal play. But when it comes to confessions, love, or similar things, he suddenly becomes serious and is ready to give quite sensible advice. In short: a bully, a poor student, almost hates everything around him, the shortest of our trio, but a good friend.

  As for me, there's not much to say, and what little there is is quite ordinary. I was wearing a white sweatshirt with yellow and blue stripes and a covered zipper all the way to the top, black jeans with white stripes on the sides, and white sneakers, almost the same as his, only newer. I had headphones on, which I almost never take off, even on the bus. My eyes were blue, and my hair was tousled and stubborn—no matter how hard I tried to style it, it always stuck out in all directions. Sometimes, my family even called me "hedgehog"... those were the days.

  I was shorter than my friend Kichirou-san by ten centimeters (if I'm not mistaken). I like peace, quiet, music—nothing particularly interesting, really.

  "We were talking about a meddlesome child like you!" he replied to Tadashi-san's question, to which Tadashi immediately began attacking him from behind. Kichirou, in turn, barely defended himself from Tadashi, occasionally counterattacking with light shoves to the shoulder or trying to wriggle away, but it all looked like their typical "wrestling"—noisy but harmless.

  "And how did I even agree to this idea?" I blurted out, barely audible, almost a whisper. After that, I turned on the music on my phone again, inserted one earbud (leaving the other free in case someone called), and stared out the window. Only trees floated past—an endless wall of green, occasionally interrupted by the occasional light pole or billboard.

  "And I certainly didn't choose the best seat on the bus," I thought, trying not to think too much about it. I closed my eyes, leaned back in my seat, and concentrated solely on the music. The bass gradually filled my ears, and my heart began to beat in rhythm with the track… I hope this day passes calmly and without any incidents…

  — …That's where you're wrong)…

  https://4beat.ru/e_4usr1760790214/tracks/error3xxx-track-9590

  "1-DAY BEFORE THE TRIP"

  "Hey, guys, your attention please!" a boy shouted in the classroom, trying to be heard over the general hubbub, and he succeeded. The noise gradually died down, and everyone turned toward him.

  "Tomorrow is our last day of school, right?" Everyone agreed: some said loudly, "Yes" or "Mhm," some simply nodded, some smiled and gave a thumbs-up.

  "So, guys, how about a picnic tomorrow?" — he continued, waving his arms for emphasis. — Still, after tomorrow, everyone will go their own way.

  You, and some will even leave this city forever. Am I wrong?

  Everyone exchanged glances, the class began to whisper, and began discussing the idea. Some immediately lit up, some hesitated, some simply shrugged. A minute later, everyone's gaze returned to Masanori, and almost everyone nodded.

  Of course, there were some who were hesitant about the idea, but less than an hour later, they were immediately convinced. Someone mentioned "the last time together," someone joked that "a picnic is better than sitting at home and whining." In the end, the class was almost unanimously in favor.

  "Excellent, everyone agrees! Well, almost everyone," Masanori concluded with a broad smile, but with a hint of a hint in his voice.

  The whole class understood who he was talking about. Everyone turned back to the last desk by the window, where Tsukuyomi sat. He sat with his headphones on, the music softly filtering through even from here, his gaze fixed on the window, where the gray rooftops and distant trees could be seen. His face was thoughtful, almost detached, and he was clearly deep in thought, oblivious to everyone's attention.

  No one knew what was on his mind, nor did anyone want to know anything about him. He was considered both strange and gloomy, especially when he suddenly looked up and stared straight into your eyes. At such moments, a chill ran down your spine, as if a cool breeze had blown out of nowhere, and you felt uneasy.

  "Can't we do without him? He's such a bore!" one of the students remarked, drawing the attention of the entire class. He crossed his arms and snorted, clearly displeased. "All he'll do is interrupt our fun with his grumbling."

  "No way!" "Masanori snapped, stepping closer to Tsuyoshi and positioning himself so that everyone could see his determined expression. "We've been going to school together for five years now. If we're going to go, it'll be together. Understood?"

  Not everyone liked these words. Some rolled their eyes and muttered something like, "Oh well, it's more fun without him." Some didn't care—they simply shrugged and returned to their phones. A few supported Masanori with a quiet, "Yeah, right, everyone together." But there were also some who smirked and suggested in a low voice, "Let's play a prank on him during the picnic—it'll be fun to watch him get mad." Between all the squabbling, arguing, and exchanging glances, no one even noticed the absence of one student...

  "ON THE STREET"

  Tsukuyomi walked slowly home, oblivious to his surroundings. If he was distracted, it was only when he crossed the street, looking around. The only thing on his mind was a part-time job. But he was interrupted by a man grabbing his shoulder. When he turned, he saw Kichiro, his head bowed, inhaling greedily. A second later, he looked up and said,

  "Kichiro: Hey, why... did you leave without me?" he asked with some difficulty. The man, removing his headphones, asked, "Tsukuyomi: What?" Kichiro, an angry expression on his face, grabbed him by the collar and shouted, "You've got to be kidding me!"

  To this, Tsukuyomi apologized, a confused expression on his face, removing his hands from his shoulders. "Okay, let's skip that. Tell me, why don't you want to go on the picnic with us?"

  "Tsukuyomi: Because it'll be really noisy," he said, walking slowly down the road.

  "Kichiro: But not as much as in class, right?" he asked his friend, catching up with him.

  "Tsukuyomi: You're right, but I'd rather stay home... in silence. And besides, it's a waste of money, as far as I'm concerned. So, my answer is no." Kichirou let out a sad sigh, patted him on the shoulder, and said goodbye, finally saying, "If you change your mind, text me, okay?" before leaving without waiting for a response. Tsukuyomi stood there, watching Kichirou's silhouette grow smaller and smaller until it disappeared completely. Tsukuyomi, putting on his headphones, continued on his way, saying to himself, "We'll see."

  "HOME"

  "I'm home, Mom, Dad!" I called, kicking off my shoes at the threshold. My voice echoed in the hallway, but there was no answer. My parents were apparently busy with their own affairs and didn't hear, or simply didn't answer. Today I'm exhausted beyond words: studying, training, the endless noise in the classroom... My only wish is to finally get some sleep. Because of all this, I haven't been able to sleep well in a long time, falling asleep late and waking up exhausted. But now that school's out, I can at least get some rest... even if it's just for a little while.

  Usually, when I come home from class, the first thing I do is head to the kitchen to satisfy my hunger. The school cafeteria is always so crowded that it feels like your turn won't be for another two hours: everyone's pushing, shouting, someone's jumping the line, someone's arguing with an auntie over seconds. But today I decided to skip dinner—my stomach was growling, of course, but I had no energy left for food. Better to go to bed early.

  As I took off my school uniform, first my tie, then my shirt, which I carefully hung over the back of a chair, I kept thinking, "Maybe I really should go on a picnic? "No, it's nonsense, a complete waste of time for me. But... tomorrow is the last day, after all." My thoughts swirled slowly, like dust in a ray of light filtering through the half-open window.

  Knock. I was brought back to reality from my reverie. *Knock-knock-knock*. Someone was knocking on the door, quietly but insistently. I approached, opened it just a few centimeters, and peered through the narrow gap between the door leaf and the frame. My mother stood there.

  She was almost the same height as me, or a little shorter if I stood up straight, and also had blue eyes, just like mine, only softer and warmer. Her cinnamon hair, long and slightly wavy, was pulled back into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, with a few strands escaping and falling over her shoulders. She was wearing casual clothes: a light gray short-sleeved T-shirt and comfortable black ankle-length pants. Nothing extra, just comfortable and modest. And her voice was always soft, almost velvety, even when she was nervous.

  — Mom (quietly, with slight anxiety, leaning a little closer to the door): Did something happen today, son?

  She was worried, and that's not surprising; every mother worries about her children, and she was no exception. Her brows were slightly furrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line, one hand nervously fiddling with the hem of her T-shirt near her stomach.

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  — Tsukuyomi (looking at the floor, only occasionally looking up): I'm fine, Mom. No need to worry.

  Mom exhaled heavily, her chest rising and falling, then placed her hand on her forehead, as if trying to collect her thoughts, and before leaving, she said quietly, leaning forward slightly:

  — Mom (gently but insistently): Please, don't keep everything inside. You have good friends you can share your problems with and vent to. If you can't tell us... then tell them, okay?

  "Okay"—why can't I say that? Because I wasn't sure it would ever happen... or even if I could. After all, I once tried, preparing the lines in my head, mentally rehearsing every word, every pause. But in moments like these, something stabbed right in my heart... sharp and painful, like a needle. I don't want to experience that pain again. I just don't want...

  My tongue slurred as Mom waited for my answer. Unsure of what to say, I simply nodded and looked into her eyes. Briefly, but enough for her to understand. Mom smiled softly at this answer, bowed her head slightly, and quietly said,

  "Mom: Goodnight, son."

  She turned and walked down the hallway, her steps light, almost silent, as always. She understood that I had no appetite, that I didn't want anything to eat. That's why I loved my mother. For her silent understanding, which required no unnecessary words.

  I closed the door again, slowly, so as not to creak, and turned the key in the lock. The room once again became my little fortress. I turned to the bed and looked at the phone lying next to my headphones. The screen was dark, but I knew a pile of unread messages awaited there. Turning back to the door, I closed my eyes and lightly slammed my forehead against the cool wood. The impact was soft, almost soundless, but it brought me back to reality. Opening my eyes, I stared at the floor with a sullen expression, as if trying to bore holes in it with my gaze.

  "What's wrong with me today?" I asked myself quietly, my voice barely rising above my throat. There was no answer, which was pretty obvious, considering I was the only one in the room. There was only the silence of the room and the distant hum of the television from the living room.

  Walking to the bed, I picked up the phone, my fingers shaking slightly from fatigue. I looked at the screen, and it said 9:16 PM. At that time, Kichirou-kun would usually be out walking with his friends, making noise, laughing, and probably already thinking up his next stupid joke.

  "A FEW HOURS LATER"

  As soon as Tsukuyomi lay down on the bed, he instantly fell asleep, his eyelids closing before he even noticed. The room was plunged into pitch darkness: the curtains were tightly closed, no light from the hallway penetrated, only a faint bluish glow from the phone screen softly illuminating part of the pillow and the edge of the bedspread. The phone lay next to his hand, the screen still on. Tsukuyomi was so exhausted that he didn't even think to lock it or exit the app. The light from the screen fell on his calm face, illuminating his closed eyes and even breathing.

  But what's inside the phone?

  *Approaching the phone…*

  The messaging app was open on the screen. At the very top was a chat with the caption "My First Friend."

  (YESTERDAY)

  (time 11:47 PM - 12:12 AM):

  Kichiro: Hello!

  Kichiro: What are we doing?

  Kichiro: You're coming today, right?

  Kichiro: ((((

  Tsukuyomi: Hello

  Tsukuyomi: Yes, I'll come

  Kichiro: Cool, I have something to show you)

  (TODAY)

  (time 11:18 PM):

  Tsukuyomi: …

  Tsukuyomi: What do we need for a picnic?

  "MORNING"

  A new day has arrived. A special day. You might ask, "Why special?" Because it's my first time going somewhere, with my classmates.

  Opening my eyes one by one, rubbing them with my hands, and sitting up, I reached for the phone lying in the nightstand. Taking the phone and opening it, I noticed I'd forgotten to exit the app.

  "What a fool I am, the battery's half gone," but after looking closely, I saw a message from Kichiro. "So that's how it is," I said, getting dressed.

  "Kitchen"

  Everything was as usual. Mom was cooking dinner, and the kitchen smelled deliciously of fried onions and spices. She stood at the stove in her favorite gray apron, stirring something in a pot. Dad was sitting at the table, drinking tea. He was quite tall, with black hair and slightly worn-out eyes (but it was almost unnoticeable unless you looked closely), wearing his work uniform: a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and dark business trousers. He worked in the office, and even at home, he sometimes looked like he was about to run off to a meeting. Although this was never the case, he was always prepared.

  Everything would be fine, but then I made a noise, drawing Mom's attention, but not Dad's. He was just finishing his tea, looking at his phone.

  — Mom (turning around, smiling): Good morning, son! Why are you up so early?

  I started gathering the necessary things. Like a bottle of water, a pack of cookies, a phone, and threw them into his backpack, answering calmly:

  — Tsukuyomi: Oh, it's just that our class is going on a picnic. So I decided to go along.

  Hearing my answer, Mom froze in amazement, the spoon in her hand hanging in the air. Dad raised his head abruptly, his eyes widened, and a second later he choked on his tea and coughed, setting the mug down on the table with a loud thud. Mom dropped the spoon, which clanked against the edge of the pot and fell to the floor.

  — Dad (coughing, but now seriously): You're going somewhere with classmates, not a friend?!

  — Mom (running up to me, worried): Are you sick, son? Do you have a fever by any chance?!

  She immediately placed her palm on her forehead, checking, then on her cheek, then on her forehead again. Meanwhile, Dad was already dialing with a trembling finger. The number on the phone and obviously an ambulance, judging by the way he was frantically tapping the screen.

  I looked at my parents in confusion. One was coughing and calling an ambulance, the other was feeling me up like I was about to faint.

  ...They could have been happy for me, damn ??. Am I really that withdrawn? It's a shame, on the one hand. Of course, it's partly my fault, but that doesn't change the fact. :_). Well, I think I should explain it to them soon.

  "IN HALF AN HOUR"

  Mm, good luck then," my father wished me, getting ready for work. He had already straightened his tie and picked up his briefcase, casting a quick but warm glance at me.

  "Here, take your lunch with you, just in case, okay?" my mother asked, handing me a small box of food. She smiled, but a slight worry flickered in her eyes, as if She was afraid I'd forget to eat again. That's certainly happened, I won't lie. But it's better not to make her worry; I'm not a child... although for Mom, it means practically nothing.

  "Thanks, Mom, I'll be back this evening, maybe even tonight," I warned, carefully placing the box in my backpack and putting on my sneakers at the door.

  I walked outside, breathing in the fresh morning air. Cool, with a slight scent of grass and asphalt after the night's rain. I looked at the sky and it was clear, cloudless, the sun just beginning to warm. And up ahead, I immediately saw Kichiro-kun. He was standing there, buried in his phone, his fingers quickly running across the screen.

  "Good morning, Kichiro-kun," I said, walking closer.

  Only now, noticing me, he raised his head, smiled his signature wide smile, and...

  He quickly shoved his phone into his pocket.

  "Hello," he replied, stepping toward me and immediately placing his hand on my shoulder. It was familiar, friendly, but with such force, as if he wanted to make sure I was real.

  "Kichiro: Honestly, I thought you were kidding me. I even started to doubt you were the one who wrote that message, dude. You should have seen the ruckus you made in the chat yesterday."

  "Tsukuyomi: What are you even talking about?" I asked, confused, frowning slightly.

  Kichiro placed his chin under one hand and closed his eyes, his expression thoughtful. He stood there, muttering something under his breath, quietly, almost inaudibly. A minute passed. Then he suddenly snapped his fingers, opened his eyes, and… didn't see me there.

  Kichiro shook his head in confusion, rummaged in his pocket, pulled out his phone, and started dialing. When Tsukuyomi answered, he raised the phone to his ear and immediately shouted:

  — Kichiro: WHERE ARE YOU?! I JUST TURNED AWAY FOR A FEW SECONDS!!!

  — Tsukuyomi (calmly): Why are you yelling like that? Calm down.

  — Kichiro (sighing, quieter): Easy for you to say... Okay. I just turned away for a second, so how did you manage to get away?

  — Tsukuyomi: First of all, you closed your eyes, you didn't turn away. Secondly, it's been more than a minute. In-three-

  — Kichiro (interrupting, slapping his forehead): Not literally, but metaphorically! And where are you now?

  — Tsukuyomi: Remember that store you showed me yesterday? Well, I'm right there.

  — Kichiro: Okay, wait for me there. Is there anything else you want to tell me?

  — Tsukuyomi: Aggressor.

  — Kichiro (smirking into the phone): Likewise.

  After which he pressed "End." Kichiro blinked a couple of times, put on a sad expression with a smile :_) and whispered under his breath: Why are you so difficult...

  He turned off his phone, put it in his pocket, stretched his shoulders a little, and said to himself with a slight grin:

  — Well, as they say: running prolongs life.

  After these words, he ran to the meeting point – a fast, energetic run, jumping over small puddles and dodging passersby.

  "Unknown Place"

  — Hmmm, this isn't really interesting, is it?

  — …

  — Okay, okay, let's just skip the boring parts!

  "AT SCHOOL"

  "Here's our bus!" Kichiro-kun shouted, pointing to the yellow school bus parked by the gate. "We're leaving soon, so don't go too far, okay?" he asked, turning his head towards me.

  — Tsukuyomi: I wasn't planning on it.

  — Kichiro (smirking): You'd believe it.

  He pushed me forward, toward the crowd of classmates who had already gathered at the entrance, chatting animatedly. I nearly tripped in surprise, but managed to stay on my feet. I wanted to push him back, or at least glance at him, but I caught everyone else's eyes on me. Everyone looked at me indifferently, without much interest, then simply noted my appearance and continued talking with their friends. I was flattered: at least they'd noticed me. But one looked at me differently. And how I hate that look.

  — Tsuyoshi (with a disdainful smirk): Well, here comes the bore.

  — Tsukuyomi (sarcastically): Hello to you too. Nice to see you too.

  That's another reason I didn't want to go to this picnic. Because Tsuyoshi would be there. Not a minute had passed before he started humiliating me out of nowhere.

  Tsuyoshi walked quickly until we were just a meter away. He stopped, crossed his arms, and glared down at me.

  — Tsuyoshi: Don't you think we could play a prank on you, Raiden? - Why can't you leave me alone?!

  "What did I do to make you hate me so much?!" Of course, I couldn't say that. Knowing him, he'd hit me for saying that. And at worst, he'd send me straight to the hospital. I may train, but I'm a beginner. And he practices kendo, so my chances of winning are slim.

  They stood there for a minute, staring into each other's eyes. From the outside, it looked like a fight was about to break out.

  Meanwhile, their classmates waited for them to do something. Someone even took out a phone to film it. But someone decided to call off today's fight.

  — Masanori (shouting, running up): What's going on here?!

  He stood between us, arms outstretched.

  — Masanori (glaring sternly at Tsuyoshi): What did I tell you about fighting?

  Tsuyoshi didn't reply, just snorted, turned, and walked off to join his friends, deliberately bumping into someone along the way. Masanori gave him a rather shady look—sometimes he scares even me with his seriousness.

  —Masanori (turning to me, guiltily): Forgive me, Tsukuyomi-kun, for this. I should have kept an eye on Tsuyoshi. I knew he'd start a fight without a reason. And besides, this is your first time going anywhere with us…

  He scratched his head, smiling sheepishly. Well, I don't think it's his fault. He's not some kind of nanny who has to keep an eye on us all… although that's partly true.

  —Tsukuyomi: No need to apologize to me, class rep. It's not your fault. By the way, Masanori-kun, where's Tadashi-kun?

  — Masanori (grinning): I think he should come soon. You know his hobby. Always being late for something. I don’t remember a single day when he came.

  Right on time. Ha-ha-ha!

  He patted me on the back and left. Probably to his teacher or the bus. But that's none of my business.

  Looking at the main entrance, I saw Tadashi-kun waving at me. Just as I was about to return the wave, raising my hand, I felt both shoulders grab me from behind. Turning my head, I saw Kichirou-san, his eyes shining like a child's before a gift.

  — Kichirou (with a wide smile): This trip is going to be sooo funny.

  I feel like I'm going to be in the middle of a war between Kichirou-kun and Tadashi-kun. I looked at Tadashi-kun again, and his face was white, his mouth open, when he saw Kichirou-kun with that expression. I think he figured out what awaited him on this trip.

  Half an hour later, the class monitor approached us and told us to get on the bus because we were leaving soon. Half the class was leisurely walking to the door, while the others were competing to see who could get to the bus first. But my friends and I decided to wait and let everyone else get on first, and then we would. We didn't want to be pushed around while we were getting inside... Well, let the torture begin.

  "OUR TIME"

  "Dear students, we'll have to stop at a gas station because we're low on gas. Don't worry, it won't take long, so please stay on the bus," the driver announced over the loudspeaker, his voice tired and a little hoarse.

  Indistinct murmurs from the entire class followed. Someone snorted, someone sighed loudly, someone muttered, "Well, of course, right now." It was clear: no one liked this. Well, if you want the bus to stall in the middle of an empty highway without gas and without a soul around, then go ahead. That's not my problem. Although, knowing them, they'll make me work too.

  As soon as the driver got off the bus, the class went wild. Someone was practically shouting at their neighbors, someone had their phone playing loud, the bass drowning out even the noise of the engine. Someone started throwing water bottles, someone else playfully shoved. But these two idiots actually had the idea to fight right on the bus?! It's fine outside, but here, in this cramped cabin, where everyone's cramped together?! What kind of idiots are they? Oh, right. These are my friends. -_-

  — ?'#+&"@:...And that's what I was waiting for) Hmm, what would happen if I did this)

  A truck was hurtling toward the bus at incredible speed. Its headlights were blinding, like two white suns, the engine roared as if a demon were inside it. The driver had no intention of stopping—he was driving straight to the gas station, without slowing down, without turning, without blinking. A smile was frozen on his face… strange, crooked, almost inhuman: €§π$??=€π. My teeth were bared, my eyes wide, as if I was seeing not the road, but something much more pleasant.

  At that moment, I was smiling like crazy, the corners of my lips twitching upward, my cheeks tense, something warm and cold simultaneously spreading in my chest like a wave. After all, I knew what would happen next. Just a little more and…

  *EXPLOSION*

  Branches of the bus and truck flew in all directions, along with chunks of flesh. Metal screeched, glass crunched under the wheels, and the fire instantly consumed everything that could burn. The gas station became a blazing inferno. The pumps exploded one after another, black smoke rose in a column into the sky, and the smell of burnt rubber, gasoline, and flesh mingled in a single, suffocating wave.

  A nearby store burst into flames, its display cases shattering as the fire ripped through the interior, where people had been standing in line for coffee and cigarettes just a moment before. They could have been saved if someone had pulled them out in time, if the fire had come slower. But the children… the children caught in the very center of the accident—they're gone now...

  "????"

  There was nothing around him but pitch darkness. Absolute, thick, sticky—so thick that it felt like it was pressing on his chest and filling his lungs instead of air. Tsukuyomi was half-standing, half-floating in this void, unconscious. He couldn't feel his body. No pain, no cold, not even his own weight. Only silence, dull and endless.

  Would Tsukuyomi's life really end like this?

  He hadn't even managed to do anything. He hadn't achieved anything. He had everything ahead of him. His first real friendship, his first mistakes, his first victories, the first time he'd say "I love you" to someone, or even just "thank you." And now... what? Just the end? Without goodbye, without meaning, without a chance to make things right?

  So why not give him a second chance?

  And everyone else, too.

  Suddenly, the darkness flickered. Somewhere far away, at the very edge of consciousness, a light appeared. Faint at first, like A distant star, but rapidly gaining strength. It grew, approached, pulled, beckoned, like a warm hand in cold water. Tsukuyomi's eyes opened slowly, with difficulty, his lids felt heavy, as if filled with lead. The light was harsh, forcing him to squint, but there was something calming about it, almost familiar.

  "Where am I?" was the first thing that came to mind.

  The light began to take shape. Tall, calm, motionless. A man? Or something more? Tsukuyomi didn't know. He didn't know yet.

  "It worked!" the man shouted before...

  To be continued...