It was the day Tohru realized he could walk out of the castle that he regained some hope of being found. He began by testing out how far he could walk. In this state, his energy was indefinite, and he could go as long as he wanted. It was the very same day he'd run from his teammates. He'd ran away from them, but he wanted to get as far away as he could, so he jumped through a low window that was just over a bush; he couldn't phase through things, and he could still get injured. His hand still throbbed from when he had punched the wall earlier that day. 

After that uncomfortable landing, he had run as far away from the castle as he could, not knowing where he was going, and not caring either. After a while, however, his emotions caught up to him. Tears welled up in his eyes and throat, and eventually he stopped running altogether, tripping over his own feet at some point and never getting up. Grass stained his hands and his gym uniform, and his elbows and knees were bloody and raw. He didn't care. He'd seen the look in their eyes. They seemed to scream at him, and they were ingrained into his brain.

You saved him. 

Instead of us.

"I know..." he mumbled through his tears, "I know..."

"I just did so much to him...the least I could do...it was the least I could do..."

Maybe if I'd planned more carefully, I could have freed everyone. 

Maybe this is my fault.

Maybe I should've never joined Seijoh.

Maybe I should've never joined the club.

Maybe I should've never even tried in the first place.

After all, it's obvious I never really managed to fit in. So why did I try? Why did I try to help? Why did I trust?

Why was I trusted?

Thoughts raced through his mind faster than the adrenaline rushing through his veins. What could he do? After all, he was powerless. The demon had made sure of that. If only he'd remembered in time, before he'd done it...

He'd sealed his fate in a dream. He was fully aware of it too, god dammit. 

Tohru was there, right in front of the thing, the thing that he knew would manipulate him to do it's bidding. It had offered him a deal. He could get the ability to no longer have to feel loneliness or pain. There was no cost.

He knew that it was a lie.

But he'd accepted the offer anyway.

Why? He asked himself, but he already knew.

He'd done it, and accepted the deal, because there was a slim chance that the thing wasn't lying. It was tempting to refuse, because he fully knew every risk that was or could be involved, but he couldn't. He'd just said one simple word, and now everyone was suffering, because of him. It was his fault, wasn't it? How would his friends forgive him? Were they even his friends anymore? Were they ever even friends in the first place?

What would he ever do if they forgot about him after this?

A rustling noise in the brambles surrounding him, the ones that had left him with small wounds all over his arms and legs, made him look up.