The constant tiring routine of waking up in the morning, heading to school, trudging through practice and repeat - had left him completely and utterly numb. How did other people stand this never ending regiment? Surely he wasn't the only one to be sick and tired like this, surely. . .

Kazemaru was by no means a naive, or stupid teenager. If anything, he was mature, and the brightest in his class. Anyone would consider this change of his: tragic. He put the blame on his friend from middle school, because he knew she wouldn't mind. She wouldn't mind taking responsibility for her actions. It was all her fault, of course, if she didn't walk into his classroom in Raimon, things wouldn't be this way. Nevertheless, it's not like he loathed her for it.

If anything, he woke up just to see her. Even if it was for hardly any time at all, he was more than happy with admiring from afar. His once stoic expression would soften, and he'd find himself weak in the knees all over again. In love - there had to be a more unromantic way to say this. A more tragic way, actually.

Grow up, finish school, go to university, get a job, start a family. . . What was the point of any of this? We'll all end up dead one day anyways. Human endeavor is ultimately futile, they say.

Kazemaru wouldn't mind dying.

This kind of yearning was painful. No part of this 'crush' was cute in any way, not like how they should be. Not like how they are in romance movies, novels, or with anyone else on planet earth. Kazemaru could tell something was wrong, when Park would smile at him, and he'd suddenly feel the need to run off into isolation, and start. . . Crying.

They're best friends from middle school, and no matter how many times he tried to force himself to think, that he wouldn't want things any other way, it wouldn't work. Because he knows that she's hurt like he is. She holds the same emptiness in her soft, brown rose eyes when she stares into the void. He'd like to think he could save her from this, he knows for sure that she could save him, at least.

Kazemaru's thoughts are both innocent, and twisted, sick. The simple covet to hold her hand, and kiss her knuckles. To run his fingers through her hair, and rest his chin on the top of her head. She's small in comparison to him. She'd fit well against him.

He truly is a gentle person.

But, he welcomes the thought of filling his mouth with her taste too.

She said she wish she'd never met him, because his life would have been better that way. To some extent, she wasn't wrong, but he wouldn't want it that way. What's a little pain? He could go a little while longer.

Stupidly so, and overcome by emotions, he told her that he liked her.

There was a pause, and silence filled the room. Park lowered her head, and immediately, she'd apologized. Even Kazemaru knew she'd never been good in these kinds of arguments.

He wasn't surprised when she admitted to not harboring the same feelings. He expected this, and that's why he refused to do anything about his issue. Even still, he also knew he wasn't going to move on. He didn't want to move on. He'd just pray to god, hoping she'd change her mind for who knows what reason. Because he's not as special as a lot of the other boys are. Her options are open, so it'd make hardly any sense for her to pick him.

But she did, and he's happy about it, really.

He couldn't be happier, but, it still hurts.