Warning : Mentions of suicide, mentions of thoughts, OOC

This is a late entry for the seventh contest by -YanYan-.

I haven't really watch Chozetsu but hopefully this should be considered alright.

Well without much saying, let's begin the story.
~.~

He wonders how long he had been suffering, how long he had been longing to strip his own life away.

He never knew, he never had. That merely intensifies his guilt, the lump in his throat.

His condition, both mentally and physically, would only worsen by the constant times he would stay up late, thinking about the different ifs. Even the times he would deliberately skip his meals.

Because he knew the causes of them. He knew yet he never did anything of the sort to even show that he could be there to help.

.

He was dangling on the edge, rope wrapped around his ankle. His head was upside down, eyes crimson red meeting the crystal surface of the Beigoma Academy's window.

He closed his eyes as the blood rushed to his head.

He could feel the rope slowly starting to snap.

With a wistful smile spreading across his lips, the rope snapped and he fell down, head first into the cement ground.

.

"Hey! Fubuki!"

His crimson red eyes blinked out of their daze, averting their gaze from the white-blue skies.

He turned his head to meet those glimmering moss blue eyes. Those sympathetic glimmering moss blue eyes made the lump in his throat grow more.

"Are you alright?"

He questions once he recalls but of course, the blonde-haired male brushes it off with a rather genuine smile.

And he supposes after seeing what he has not confirmed was really something genuine that he lets it go and drops the subject.

.

"Hey what would you do when I'm gone?"

They laid down, intertwining their fingers together. The burgundy red-haired male thought it was weird but he didn't question so.

He knew he couldn't with that look in his eye.

That complicated mixture of fondness, sadness and just desperation to know his answer.

He felt his heart ache, biting his lower lip before answering.

"Why would you say that?"

He whispers softly, squeezing his hand tighter, eyes meeting his crimson gaze.

The male smiles softly, hurt but simply shook his head.

"I-If you chose to go, I don't think I'll be able live."

For a moment he wanted to say more but he kept his mouth shut, eyes closed shut. He left the words die at the tip of his tongue and chose to move in close to his side, snuggling.

The blonde-haired male looked at him and for a moment, a frown spreaded across his lips.

He did not say more and simply hugged him.

.

But of course he didn't know. He didn't know that he would take it as far as to do that.

Sure, he purposely cut a vein.

And yes, he tried drinking detergent.

And yup, he tried starving himself.

But, he had never tried jumping off the roof.

Never tried attaching the rope to his leg and wait for it to snap so he can fall to his death.

Never.

But he did and he couldn't stop it. He didn't notice it. He didn't realise and yes, he just felt horrible.

So, so horrible.

.

"Your smile is what keeps me going."

He remembers reading it once. The letter.

He swears it was then he cries. He broke down.

He screamed to the air,

"Why?"

"Why didn't anyone give me a sign?"

He knew he could blame on so many things but the truth is clearer than day.

It was his fault.

His fault for not noticing, for not seeing it sooner, for not reaching out to him.

.

Salty tears prickled the corner of his eyes.
The anguish cries, yells and shouts followed by the sound of the downpour of the pitter-pattering of the chillingly cold rain only made the urge to cry more hard to control.

His nails dug into his soft skin, turning his knuckles pale white.

He smiled bitterly as he clutched a certain bonquet of pristine white-coloured flowers.
He bit the inside of his mouth, not caring if it ended up bleeding blood.

The memories of his smiles, his laugh and his warmth had brought more tears prickling the corner of his eyes.
He blankly stared at the grey tombstone engraved with his name.

He gritted his teeth, almost gnashing them hard together.

He couldn't say who.

He couldn't blame so.

"But I wouldn't be able to live without you, Fubuki."

~~~

Let's just admit it.

This was practically half-assed done.

And i didn't even put in the effort to arrange the paragraphs so the story could flow.

I'm really sorry and this is an late entry and i really don't think this would be accepted.

I'll be surprised if people even managed to read this poorly written piece of story.

*sighs* i have to go. Bye.

The word count is 836.