Walking up the stairs of the Gudouh Goods building, I eventually reach the roof on the 4th story.
It's certainly not the tallest building, but it overlooks the city on a hill. A pretty view seems to be the only thing I appreciate nowadays, the beauty of reality.
I suppose that's why I'm doing this, to become one with the world without having to suffer through it.
Walking over to the edge of the building, I look out at the neon city.
With a sigh, I reach into my back pocket, fumbling for the bullet.
Pulling out the magazine, I insert the bullet.
The streets are bustling with noise as people run their rat race.
This is it.
A dripping noise sounds.
Water patters down, yet when I look up, all that's there is a clear night sky.
Where did that rain come from?
Feeling my face, I feel
...tears?
But why am I sad?
My life has no meaning.
When I die, the sun will still rise, people around the world will still smile, Earth will still become oblivion in 3 million years.
My existence is and always will be the same. That is why I want to die, if my life were to remain unchanged until my death, why would I choose to suffer through the rest when I could just cut to the end?
So, I want this.
Don't I?
...Don't I?
Angrily wiping my eyes, I insert the magazine, putting the gun to my head.
With a deep inhale, I take one last breath of fresh air as the wind calmly blows across the endless horizon
"Goodbye Toko, goodbye Reefer, goodbye world. Maybe a different version of me could have carried the weight of reality...
It seems I'm weak,
Selfish,
Pointless.
"If anything, I feel bad that my life was wasted on me."
My eyes soften
The back of my throat burns, as my hands tremble,
slowly I squeeze the trigger.
Wincing...
I hear a click...
Yet nothing fires.
...
"FUCK!"
Tears start welling as I struggle to pull the jammed slide back. "Stupid- shitty gun."
This time my liquid sadness is not alone, as rain begins to sprinkle down before turning into a full shower storm.
Gasping for air, I choke on my tears as I kneel on the ground. "I'm such a fuck up I can't even kill myself properly! Stupid, stupid, stupid."
"Finally got you fucker!" A voice shouts behind me.
I jolt forward, nearly falling off the edge.
Whipping around, I see a brown-haired man holding up a gun.
Coughing up, I answer, "...who are you?"
"You're the bastard that killed my friends!"
Sniffling, I wipe my eyes while getting to my feet. "I think you have the wrong guy. I was about to get my first kill when you interrupted m-."
"Shut the fuck up! It was you 15 years ago!"
15 years ago?
...wait.
As though I hadn't just tried to kill myself, I scoff. My giggling begins to evolve as I try to hold back my laughter. "Were you with those harvesters?"
"We were the Vultures, put respect on our name!"
I can't tell if my tears are from laughing or the looming thoughts. "...right, and you're proposing the idea that 5-year-old me was responsible for killing a den of organ harvesters? Well, you give me too much credit, I could barely count to ten."
The brown-haired man pauses as he looks around before angrily stomping his foot. "Well... there were only two of you scheduled for harvesting that day! So, tell me what the fuck happened to my friends?"
You and me both, pal.
"Or what?" I mock.
He pulls the slide back. "Or I'm going to fucking shoot you dipshit, and destroy your anchor!"
Picking up my shitty gun from the ground, I slowly raise it to my own head. "You'll shoot me?" I begin to trek towards him. "Not if I do it first."
I continue walking towards the man until the barrel of his gun is now also pushing against my forehead.
"So you better avenge your friends, then off yourself. That way you'll be doing this world two favors. Go ahead."
He hesitates.
"GO AHEAD!"
He jolts backward.
My watery eyes widen as I can't help but grin. "Please! I'm begging you...do...it."
I continue walking forward as he begins to backtrack until he is now the one at the edge of the building.
The man stumbles backward, tripping over the curb, losing his footing, he falls off the building.
Yanking the collar of his shirt, I trade places with him, throwing him back up as I am now the one falling.
I feel the wind as it blows through my hair, my arms are outstretched.
What is this feeling?
Hatred?
Joy?
Or maybe it's-
Halfway through the plummet to eternal bliss, I somehow bump into someone.
Picking myself up from the concrete, the other person kneels there rubbing their head.
The masked man's eyes widen as he turns to me.
His armored body glows as a metallic core on his chest glows an arctic white. He unsheathes a sword, it begins to crackle as icicles form on the blade.
I wince. "Are you alright, I wa-"
Slashing his sword, I barely manage to crane my neck back.
"What the hell!? I said I was sorr-"
His mask looks like a burlap sack; it has two bloody eye sockets gouged through, and he wears a leather trench coat over his armor.
Ducking and dodging, I manage to keep my head on.
Stumbling backwards, I throw the surrounding objects at the armored figure.
Backtracking, I keep crawling away,y yet he closes the distance.
As I throw a random chair at the man, I pause.
Why am I even putting up a fight? I was just trying to die. Doesn't matter if it's a bullet, gravity, or a blade, in the end, the equation equals the same answer.
Standing up, I walk towards him, throwing out my hands. "Would you mind making it quick? I'm a little tired of this whole pain thing."
The figure's eyes narrow as they bolt at me.
Closing my eyes, I begin to daydream of my next life.
*CLANG!*
Opening my eyes, I do not see heaven; instead, swaying black hair blocks my vision. It has an underlying red tone to it.
The reflective strips of her hooded black firefighter jacket glimmer off the surrounding street lights.
There's a hole in the back of it where a chain link tail waves its arrow-like end like a cat toy.
"Get back." Throwing her arm out, the dull golden chains that embrace her body rattle.
With a sigh and a look of contempt, I step back.
It seems today is not a good day for suicide.
The two armored figures clash blades, the woman seems to be able to handle herself.
Or so I thought, yet, losing her footing, she falls backward, barely blocking the incoming slashes as she falls to her back.
The masked man finally speaks, yet it's only in giggles as he pushes the blade towards the woman as he stands atop her.
I'm pretty objective when it comes to these kinds of things, as I wouldn't usually interfere, bystander effect and all that.
So, I'm not really sure why I'm pulling out my gun and aiming it at the masked man.
*BANG!*
The giggling maniac falls to the ground as the slide of my gun locks open.
That's not fair. Why did it work on him?
The woman gasps for air as she picks herself up, straightening the golden hair band that rests between her hair intakes.
"Th- Thank you."
Patting herself off, she sheathes her blade on her back. "I'm not sure why you gave up halfway through the fight, but you should head indoors, it's not saf-"
"Would you mind killing me?"
...
There's a moment of silence before her golden eyes widen as she tilts her head. "What?"
"I was just hop-"
Grabbing my shirt, the woman suddenly throws me aside as she unsheathes her sword, and the two clash blades once more.
The hole in the man's head is missing as the masked figure is once again standing.
Punching the woman, she's sent flying backward into a nearby wall.
"huh...Well, I guess this works too."
Holding out my hands, the masked man draws his sword back with a snicker.
"HANDS IN THE AIR! WE WILL OPEN FIRE!"
Our eyes widen as we look towards the rooftop, a legion of Rampagers are lining the roofs with guns aimed at the masked man.
His eyes dart around before a grin widens on his face.
His body twitches as he is about to lunge.
Yet... a snap sounds as the glowing white metallic plate falls off his chest and begins crawling towards me as though a roach.
Both of our eyes widen, mine as I try and slap the metallic bug thing off me, while the masked figure's a look of betrayal.
The bug drills into my chest as I cough for air.
The Rampagers unload their guns on the masked man.
Leaving his body twitching on the ground as they repel down to the ground.
The woman stumbles as she picks herself up. Looking at me one last time before she bolts away.
Looking left and right, I follow her lead and flee away from the scene. I'm not entirely sure why. I was the victim here.
My legs move on their own as I twist and turn through the alleys.
After a ten-minute aimless sprint, I eventually orient myself.
Taking the train, I managed to return to my apartment.
My waterlogged shoes slap against the pavement, and my clothing is drenched.
For all the excuses for a failed suicide, I feel like I get a pass. Guess I'll try again tomorrow, just not during rush hour.
Recomposing myself, I tap my tablet to the door as it latches open.
Yet as I pull the handle, the second lock holds the door shut.
Furrowing my brow, I knock.
I hear humming through the walls before the door whips open.
"Oni chan!"
"You keep saying that, what does that even mean?"
"I am not entirely sure. I read it in a book once."
"The same book you got your name from?"
"Yes, sir! Don't you feel so honored your sis made dinner and a word for you?"
Tokyo, she appeared in my life one day, without invitation or permission, and claims to be my sister. But I don't have a sister, so she's more like a stray cat than a sibling.
Taking off my aviator jacket, I hang it on the rack; her tall red boots lie messily lopped over. Pressing down on my heel, my shoe pops off.
She hugs me with a fake shiver. "Brrg! You're chilly!" She smirks. "Perhaps you need someone to personally warm you up?"
"No, I'll just get changed." Taking off my drenched compression shirt, I grab a fresh set of clothes from the dresser.
"I warned you to bring an umbrella today."
"You didn't."
"Oh... I must have told you metaphorically."
"Do you mean telepathically?"
"Sure?"
Hopping on one leg, I pull my pants up as I turn to her. "So, did you find a job?"
A leech: a person who extorts profit from or sponges on others.
Well, I have a leech problem as she's been living off MY money and MY apartment...
Leaning on me, she groans. "Ehhh? A job? I don't wanna a job."
...and it seems I have no salt.
The only reason I put up with her is because loneliness is worse than a hole in my pocket.
"I'll just be the stay-at-home wife, and you can be the stay-at-home husband."
"If we're both staying home, who is working and paying for rent?"
Her eyes narrow. "I don't think rent is a real thing, you just made that word up."
"Our landlord would have quite the debate with you on that one."
She puts her hands on her hips. "Mhh hmm, this supposed landlord. I think he's also made up, like the tooth fairy." She exhales very theatrically. "There's no need to be bashful, you can just say you want to spend the whole day with me."
"Right."
She sighs before pulling out a wad of cash. "Fine, here. You're lucky I'm such a saint."
"Woah, where did you get this?" I pause as my face drops to an expression of pity. "You don't have to sell your body. I told you I don't min-"
Her airheaded expression drops as she glares, pointing the kitchen knife at me. "Where do you want to be buried?"
I put my hands up. "Sorry! But if it's not that, then I just wish you'd share your secret for making that much."
"No can do, my bröther."
"And I wish you'd stop calling me that, it makes... whatever we have, weird."
She smirks. "I know you like it."
"No, I-" My eyes widen, grabbing her turtleneck shirt, I notice there's a red stain.
"Woah, we've never done it in the kitchen, but if you're rearing to go. Actually, there was that one ti-"
"Is this blood?!" There are red speckles on her white pants, too.
"Eh..." she looks down. "Oh, no, no, don't be silly, just spilled some of the sauce on me."
I grab her cheeks. "There's some on your face too!"
She giggles. "That's what she said!" She wipes off the red liquid with her finger before licking it with a smirk. "You know me, I like to make a mess."
Cautiously, I let go of her. "If you say so. But, you'd better tell me if something was wrong."
"Yes, yes." She pats the couch cushion. "Now, Coco, sit! I have made a royal TV dinner for my princely brother, so you'd better praise it."
Coco is short for Coffin. I'm not sure why my parents named me Coffin. I guess they figured there's no need to get creative, just call it what it is.
Meanwhile, Tokyo, my supposed sister, says her name means perfection and royalty in Jukin. But, I've had a few Junkin friends, and they have never used it in a sentence, so I think it's B.S.
Sitting down on the couch, the two television trays wobble as they hold our steaming prepackaged meals.
"So, how was your day? Anything interesting happens?"
"Nope, only had three stick-ups."
Stealing my food, she takes up most of the couch, sprawling herself out as she reaches for the remote. "Three? Looks like this new mayor is keeping to his promise of lowering the crime rate."
The television buzzes as a suited reporter speaks. "In other news, the Yukodome migration has shifted the orbital tilt of planet Hudo and Retu, you can expect drastic changes in gravity followed by frequent Yule typhoons along with drops in temperature in the eastern hemisphere."
"How scary." She dramatically trembles. "But, I'm not worried."
"Is that so?"
She lunges at me. "Because I know you'd protect me."
"Yea, I would protect you from a 6 thousand mile long interdimensional wyrm by showing it the power of friendship."
"I don't know how well that would work. But, you are quite the smooth talker. So, you've got my vote President Coco!"
"Well, I don't have mine."
Stabbing into the mac and cheese put it up to my mouth before Toko snags it.
Ignoring any courteous rules of personal space, she latches onto me. "So... what's that metal thing on your chest? I always thought you had no sense of fashion, but it makes you look spiffy."
"...this? I don't actually know."
"You... don't know?"
"I was attacked by some guy, some lady saved me, then something jumped out from the attacker's chest and latched onto me."
"So... you wouldn't consider this an Interesting part of your day?"
"Well, if we're getting into the finer details, I guess it also rained today."
"And you aren't concerned they are stealing your data or something with it?"
"The owner was shot dead before my eyes, and he didn't seem to have an anchor, Secondly I'm pretty sure this core thing is worth more than my life."
She leans over the table, tapping the metallic device. "It looks like those things the Pioneers have."
I hadn't even thought of that, but she's right. "It kinda does. Probably just a cheap copy of those, a lot of wannabes." My eyes widen as I chuckle. "Oh, yeah, I almost forgot."
"To worship me?"
"You know how I told you about my childhood? I ran into some guy who claimed that he worked with the harvester group. Small world, I guess." With a shrug, I scoop another forkful. "The dumbass thought I killed his group, I was like five."
Toko's eyes suddenly narrow as she loses any hope of joy. "Did you kill him?"
I tilt my head, raising my eyebrow.
Her expression lightens. "I mean, what happened after?"
"I fell off the roof before I knew it."
"Wha-?! Coco! We promised no more suicide."
"Oopsie."
She grabs my shoulders as she pins me to the couch. "How could you!? If you died you'd be killing me too! You're all I have left." She pouts as she points at me. "That's it, apologize and promise again!"
"Do I reall-"
"Promise!"
I sigh. "Im sorry Toko, I promise."
She crosses her arms as she sits atop me, her eyes narrow. "What do you promise?"
"I promise not to try to kill myself."
What good is a promise that has been broken countless times?
Leaning down, her iridescent eyes shimmer as they water, before putting on a warm smile. "Good! Because you are the second most important thing to me."
"Hmm? What beat me for first?"
Getting off me, she sits back down. "My birthday, obviously."
"Of course, the day of your creation."
"Plus, I don't know what I would do without you."
"For starters, you'd have to find a job."
She giggles. "That would be no good, I don't even have a resume. Do you think couch potato would go under skills or previous employment?"
After finishing dinner, the plates vanish. As they're teleported, a clang is heard inside the washing machine.
"So? We have the rest of the night ahead of us. What will it be, television? Drinking?" She crawls her fingers up my chest with a smirk. "Or...me?"
"Sleep."
"Wha-!? You work all day just to go back to bed and work again? You need to live a little."
"Live a little, funny way to phrase it."
"NOT funny."
I shrug. "Eh, kinda."
After forcing me to watch a movie that we didn't even pay attention to, we head to bed.
Putting on my briefs, Toko is once again making a mountain out of an anthill.
"The curtains stay down, and the window closed!"
"No, the view is pretty, I need the sunlight to wake me up, and this room is too hot."
"The only pretty view you need is me, and I want to sleep in. Plus, the wind is cold when it blows through."
"My apartment, my rules."
"My bed, my rules!"
"And how exactly is my bed, yours?"
"Cause I own 75% of it, we've already talked about this."
"Yes, we talked, that's it. Now, if I wake up and those shades are down, you're getting evicted."
She gasps, "Fine!" Crossing her arms, she gives me a smirk. "You're lucky you put me in a good mood."
With a successful negotiation, the pleasant night breeze blows through the room. The lights of the neon city dance below us, in the distance, the vibrant blue and pink ocean glows as its waves crash against the rocks.
She jumps onto the bed, while I flop on my back, tracing the circulating fan with my eyes.
Getting under the covers, we lie in bed; her iridescent hair reflects the pink lights that line the walls.
Turning, she faces me, her eyes begin to water as tears stream down her face, they fill the divet created by the scars across her face.
"I know you don't care, that I don't mean anything to you, that you fear tomorrow. But, you can't kill yourself, Coco. You promised." She hugs me tightly, burying her sorrow in my chest.
Don't want to live, yet I'm not allowed to die, quite a boring paradox I'm stuck between.
Running my hands through her hair, I sigh. "Goodnight, Toko."
...