1 Prologue

People always ask if I love Yumeko Yanagi.

No, I don't love her.

Crunched not for deception, no impasse of being untrue, and certainly not to affirm I don't fall in love. So, the thing is, I haven't fallen for anyone since I became conscious of love. So for each and every question posed to a love interest─either the anodyne or the controversial─the answer has become its own powerhouse.

"No, I don't love her."

"It must have been pity," the wolf seconded─which I can agree with wholeheartedly.

Bubblegum Insomnia's fabled heroine, even with her sublime yet powerful violinist persona, isn't an exception.

"Do you love her, or do you not love her?" Our undisclosed villain's index finger curved, hardened into pulling the trigger. "Make up your mind already, you stupid twat!"

Give me a break, I already answered.

Nightshade no longer functions other than myself.

Somewhere in the towering heights, a hundred and ninety-one floors under us, they're lying down unconscious.

Adrift in dreams they haven't experienced since the gods of sleeplessness emerged. I might have gotten into accepting everyone's death, fathoming their expulsions to the other side. Somehow, the thought itself had cast celebration as they're no longer playing in the nocturnal orchestra.

I don't know how I would feel when they really do get buried

Sure enough, our scenario peaked to be cumbersome.

Of what felt like waves gushed below a cliff, and I've been standing on the edge for an enactment of something like the climax of a thriller film.

No longer do I feel alive as, decidedly, I'm already a corpse.

Although now, I don't feel like dying yet.

I find it hard to think I can't save at least one of them.

Orca, our leader, would be the most qualified if I think about rebuilding Nightshade from the first square. For the mere ten months I stayed, she committed to the betterment of our welfare─and with her, I let myself open to new horizons. Naught to how hopelessly we mirror each other, being two like forces repelling each other's beliefs albeit sharing the same brain cell.

As a downside, she'd recently gone into a pitiable state.

She has pledged great dedication to coming with us today, thus falling victim to Jiangshi's massive explosion project.

Verdict, I don't know if she'll be able to continue what she's fighting for.

And so the question persists, who else should I consider?

Seraph has spread his wings to become a rakugoka recently. I would love to watch him perform Jugemu. I'd practice alongside him sometimes, and they were fun enough that I ventured into technicolor away from being a shade of black.

Happy has found her life, luckily─and I mean as an extreme─as a clerk. It does stray from the mainstream, being part of the elusive black market. However, her career means so much to our band of outcasts─the verdict is that the most normal should be honored with a second life.

Rage has his effervescent little sister, Esyne, waiting for him to come back home. I'd rather let her see blood running down his arms. Never would I want to bring her a lifeless carcass whose eyes no longer glimmer as they smile back to each other.

I could also give the grace for my seniors who let us run on the road they paved.

Otherwise, unto my cheerful colleagues, they all have equal rights to be saved in lieu of all the moments I shared with them.

Damning it may seem when thinking of the selection process, but I need to consider who to carry out.

Even with the strength I so dearly developed, I can only carry one person.

Common sense can only activate at such a time─which is a requirement I can't ignore.

Our little make-believe gathering of liberators, has to have at least one survivor by hook or by crook.

So.

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.

Somehow, what I'm saying feels forced enough to be frowned at.

"You're thinking something too good to be true," the wolf whispered, smirking right in front of my view. "Until now, you can't escape from your abyss."

How do you say so?

Else, "how do I say so?"

I know, of course, the mechanism working behind these worries belongs to a human.

Forced sentiments brought to an audience, deliberately implying the protagonist is indeed a nice person.

News flash, I'm never going in that direction─for both cognizance dwelling within.

I could only sigh from saying such a boorish expression of concern when I'm compelled to see all of us liberated from our miserable lives instead.

I know what's truly important.

And that is─I can't possibly die when I'm being forced to say I love someone when it's not the case at all.

They'd do everything to shake the impossible answer, resorting to rocking the suspension bridge.

"Shut up!" I was told in a soulful bellow.

Fine, of course, reason has been thrown out the window.

Nonetheless, I would answer the same.

I wouldn't love Yumeko Yanagi if heaven's screenplay dictated I'd fall for her on such a weird term.

She wouldn't love so either, cutting our already questionable bond.

Nonetheless, saying anything now only presents us to the null.

As if a confession, pretend or not, would bear effect to the devil.

Slender hand, unblemished flawless skin and polished fingernails upright to the face. Forged black metal at the hand's end, and its barrel marked the head. Itching one clutch away into the killing shot.

"I hated you the most," the envious spirit shouted, violence emanating from their breath. "So do tell, we both fell in love with the same imperfection, right?!"

Yumeko Yanagi, the alleged love of my life, is an imperfection and I agree so much that I hate it.

For the forsaken child holding me hostage, we have so many things in common.

I hate what malevolence the Jiangshi has developed for my lonesome.

However, I don't hate how they're doing all these things for love.

For one, I didn't have to worry about Miss Yanagi's welfare. I trust that this Jiangshi wouldn't harm her in any way, out of all the respect they have for her. If I was to do this breakage right, there will be three survivors for Nightshade─and I can stipulate once and for all that there's no such thing as loving the dollhouse virtuoso.

Sigh.

I don't even know if what I'm thinking takes any point across.

Tick, tick…! The clock said I should make a move.

"Say," I looked straight into Jiangshi's soul and asked, "how likely would it be for us to become friends?"