[Please don’t go, don’t leave.

I need you right here next to me]

“Thank you for everything,” Yoshika smiled, before jumping after Aveline.

Under the glistening, midday sun, that broiled the world down below, a group of people stood
on the grass. Grass as sharp as blades that scraped against Evangeline’s shoes, tinting her soles
mint. Dew freckled, reflecting diamonds on the blades of grass; a wet, minty aroma sifting
throughout the endless fields of bright, emerald waves that seemed to dive into the horizon.

In the middle June, heatwaves drifted through, the warm air latching onto Evangeline’s skin. It
was hot, sticky, suffocating like a frosted gauze that coiled around her like a snake. Before, an
open field stretches out under a brilliant, cloudless sky. The sun is high and relentless, pouring
down waves of heat that make the air shimmer in the distance. The grass, a mix of golden yellow
and dry green, sways slightly in the occasional breeze, though the air is mostly still and heavy
with the scent of warm earth and wildflowers.

Scattered wildflowers dot the field, their vibrant colors—red poppies, blue cornflowers, and
yellow daisies—standing out against the more muted tones of the grass. Insects buzz lazily, their
droning hum a constant background noise, occasionally punctuated by the chirping of a distant
bird or the rustle of a small animal moving through the underbrush. The ground beneath is firm
and dry, with patches of cracked soil where the sun has baked the earth. The heat radiates upward,
creating a palpable warmth that wraps around everything. The horizon seems to waver, and the
edges of the field blur slightly in the intense sunlight. In one corner of the field, a lone tree
provides a small patch of shade, its leaves rustling softly and offering a brief respite from the
sun's intensity. The shadows are short and sharp, emphasizing the stark contrast between the
cool, shaded areas and the bright, sunlit expanses.

“Aveline! Give me the red eggs!”

Evangeline’s hands swept over her basket of easter eggs, her fingers tracing the delicate
chocolate gifts in her woven basket. The colors swished back and forth like waves——The Easter
eggs, once vibrantly decorated, now seem to be caught in a mesmerizing transformation. The
colors, once sharp and defined, appear to be loosening from their shapes, as if stirred by an
invisible hand. Each hue, from pastel pinks and blues to vivid yellows and greens, seems to be
adrift, moving gently across the smooth surface of the eggs. These colors don't simply blend;
they form delicate, swirling patterns that resemble coils of smoke or the graceful movement of
underwater currents. The pinks twist into delicate spirals, intertwining with the blues that curl
around them, creating soft purples where they meet. Yellows and greens follow suit, their edges
blurring into one another, forming intricate, almost hypnotic designs. As the colors drift and coil,
the eggs take on a dreamlike quality. The boundaries between each shade dissolve, making it
difficult to tell where one color ends and another begins. The surface of the eggs seems almost
fluid, as if the colors are floating just above the shell, ready to shift and change at any moment.

It was enchanting.

Walking down to a tall, twisted willow tree, Evangeline’s eyes drifted towards Yoshiko.
Yoshiko’s short, jet hair was tousled in the summer breeze. Some pieces fell in front of her face,
some gently beside her ear. Clear, framed glasses fall gently into place on her nose, eyes hinting
of a wolf.

Falling into place next to Evangeline, the aroma is a symphony of scent, where the tender
kiss of rose petals meets the brisk embrace of peppermint. It dances through the air like whispers
of an enchanted garden, where the delicate sweetness of roses unfurls in soft, velvety breaths.
Each note is a petal of romance, steeped in the timeless allure of love's bloom. Interwoven with
this floral caress is the crystalline clarity of peppermint, a cool breeze that sweeps through the
fragrant tapestry. It cuts through the warmth with a refreshing sharpness, like moonlight
shimmering on a tranquil pond. The peppermint's minty kiss is a whisper of winter in the heart
of spring, a promise of invigoration within the embrace of serenity.

“Thank you for everything.” Yoshika said, as she fell into Evangeline’s embrace.

It was ethereal.

As they reached the oak tree, their gaze trickled to the tree knot on the bottom. The tree
rises tall and noble, its trunk a gentle twist, as if sculpted by the tender hands of time and the
whispers of ancient winds. The bark, rugged and storied, weaves a tapestry of resilience, each
curve and contour a testament to years of whispered secrets and enduring strength. At its base,
a gnarled knot sits, a weathered eye that has seen the passing of countless seasons, a silent
guardian of nature’s lore. High above, the branches reach out in graceful arcs, adorned with a
canopy of vibrant green leaves that murmur softly in the breeze. These leaves, fresh and verdant,
form an emerald blanket that dances with the dappled sunlight, a shimmering tapestry of life and
vitality. Amidst this verdant splendor, colorful Easter eggs nestle like jewels among the foliage.
Painted in hues of soft pastels—pink, blue, yellow, and green—they rest in the crooks of branches,
cradled by clusters of leaves. Some bear intricate patterns, delicate as the strokes of an artist's
brush, while others gleam with a simple, glossy sheen, capturing the light and adding a touch of
whimsy to the scene.

“Want to hide some easter eggs?” Brunella asks, his sweet smile endearing, and almost
chokingly innocent.

So, the four persisted, hiding them in places no man would ever know. Each holds a basket
adorned with delicate Easter eggs, adorned in hues of soft pastels—pink, blue, yellow, and
green—each egg a repository of their most cherished secrets. With gentle hands and knowing
smiles, they carefully place these tokens among the tree’s branches, each egg finding a home
nestled in the natural cradles formed by time and the tree's enduring strength. In this quiet ritual,
the oak becomes more than a mere witness; it becomes a silent confidant, its leaves rustling softly
in the night breeze, as if conspiring to keep their secrets safe. Some were hidden in their phones.

No one would ever know.

In the tranquil expanse of the sprawling field, where the horizon meets the heavens in
seamless unity, an unexpected drama unfolds. Swiftly and without preamble, ominous clouds
gather on the distant edge of the sky, casting a somber hue over the once serene landscape. A
whisper of wind, cool and foreboding, sweeps across the field, causing the tall grasses to bow in
graceful reverence. The air, once still and serene, now crackles with an electric anticipation, as if
nature itself holds its breath in anticipation of what is to come. With sudden fervor, the first drops
of rain descend, each one a gentle caress upon the parched earth. Soon, however, these droplets
swell into a torrential downpour, drumming a steady rhythm upon the ground.

They paint intricate patterns upon the surface, transforming the field into a glistening canvas
of shimmering reflections. Above, flashes of lightning dance across the darkened sky, illuminating
the tumultuous clouds with fleeting bursts of celestial light. Thunder, deep and resonant, follows
in majestic cadence, rumbling across the heavens like an ancient proclamation. The storm, like a
tempestuous symphony, crescendos in intensity, enveloping the field in a veil of mist and rain.
Each gust of wind becomes a balletic movement, swaying the branches of trees and bending the
flora in graceful arcs. The once serene expanse is now alive with the untamed energy of nature's
fury, a breathtaking spectacle of elemental power.

Yet amidst the tumult, there remains an undeniable elegance—a beauty that transcends the
chaos. The storm, with its fierce intensity and sublime grace, serves as a poignant reminder of
nature's boundless force and eternal allure. And as swiftly as it arrived, the storm begins its
gradual retreat, leaving behind a transformed landscape bathed in the gentle embrace of post-
rain tranquility, where the air is redolent with the earthy perfume of rain-soaked soil and the
promise of renewal.

Foot beating against the ground, Aveline ran into a trail, drifting further into the forest.

She ran, and ran, until the rain soaked her clothes.

She ran, and ran, until the rain smeared her eyesight.

She ran, and ran, until the rain turned to bullets.

She ran, and ran, until she met with a house.

A house that was pristine white, so white that it seemed to be glowing. Inside, the
atmosphere is one of calm and refinement. In the spacious living room, adorned with tasteful
furnishings and soft, muted tones, a television quietly broadcasts the latest news. The screen,
framed by elegant curtains that flutter in a soft breeze, displays images and headlines with clarity
and precision. The room itself is a study in pristine simplicity. Polished wooden floors gleam under
the soft glow of strategically placed lamps, casting a warm and inviting ambiance. Artwork adorns
the walls, each piece carefully chosen to complement the tranquil atmosphere of the space. As
the news anchor delivers updates in measured tones, the sound resonates gently throughout the
room, filling it with a sense of informed tranquility.

Aveline, seated in a comfortable armchair or on a plush sofa, absorbs the information with a
discerning eye, appreciating the juxtaposition of the elegant surroundings and the current events
unfolding on the screen. Outside, the world moves at its own pace, but within the walls of this
pristine white house, there is a sense of curated calm—a haven where current affairs are observed
with poise and insight. The house stands as a symbol of both timeless beauty and intellectual
engagement, where the pristine exterior reflects a thoughtful interior, and where the news is not
just heard but understood in the context of a life lived with grace and discernment.

But, why, why was there a soft lingering that seemed to send tingles down her spine?

But, why, why was the television so blurred, the voice so muffled it's not audible?

But, why, why did she feel like someone was watching her every move?

Far away, Evangeline and Yoshika were swept up into the rain, the world turning dark, the
borders of the world closing in. Howling winds turned to sirens in their ears, darkness engulfed
the galaxy, and before everything combusted——

Everything stopped.

When Evangeline opened her eyes again, she was met with a cold, dark alley that took her
breath away like a souvenir. The alleyway unfurled like a shadowed ribbon, winding through the
heart of the city with an air of forgotten desolation. Its narrow passage lay cloaked in a velvet
darkness, the night wrapping it in a shroud of unnerving silence. The chill in the air was palpable,
a ghostly breath that whispered secrets to those who dared to listen. Cobblestones, slick with the
sheen of perpetual dampness, formed a jagged mosaic beneath wary footsteps. Above, the
buildings leaned conspiratorially, their ancient brickwork etched with the patina of time and
neglect. Windows, long bereft of glass, gaped like the hollow eyes of specters, their empty frames
hinting at stories best left untold. A solitary streetlamp flickered feebly, casting a pallid, wavering
glow that struggled against the encroaching darkness. Shadows danced in their light, grotesque
and surreal, as if the very walls were alive with a silent, malevolent energy. Faint graffiti adorned
the surfaces, cryptic symbols and words that seemed to pulse with hidden meaning under the
moon's cold gaze. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decay, an olfactory lament
for what once was. Each drop of water that fell from unseen eaves echoed like the ticking of a
distant, ominous clock, counting down to some unknown dread. The skittering of unseen
creatures added a sinister rhythm, their movements a reminder of the life that thrived in the
periphery of human abandonment.

Before Evangeline could realize what was happening, Yoshika ran.

The night was a tapestry of shadows and whispers, spun from the threads of a chilling fog
that clung to the narrow alleyway like a ghostly veil. The air was thick with a damp, penetrating
cold that seeped into the bones, turning each breath into a visible mist. Under the dim, flickering
light of a solitary streetlamp, the cobblestones glistened with moisture, creating a treacherous
path that wound through the heart of the city's forgotten quarters. Evangeline's heart pounded
in her chest, each beat echoing in the suffocating silence of the alley. Her breath came in ragged
bursts, mingling with the fog as she pursued the fleeting figure ahead. Yoshika's silhouette darted
through the haze; a wraith-like form barely discernible in the murky gloom. The fog twisted and
curled around her, swallowing her image and then releasing it, a cruel game of hide and seek.

"Yoshika!" Evangeline's voice cut through the silence; a desperate plea that seemed to be
devoured by the fog before it could reach its intended target.

She pushed herself harder, her footsteps a rapid staccato on the slick cobblestones, each
stride a battle against the encroaching darkness. Yoshika glanced over her shoulder, her eyes
wide with a mixture of fear and determination. Her breath crystallized in the cold air, her
movements swift and fluid despite the treacherous footing. She slipped around a corner,
disappearing momentarily before her form re-emerged, blurred and indistinct, as if she were a
phantom dancing on the edge of reality. The alleyway seemed to close in around them, the
buildings on either side leaning ominously, their brick facades lost in the swirling mist. Windows,
dark and empty, watched like silent witnesses to the chase, their vacant stares adding to the eerie
ambiance.

The distant sound of water dripping echoed through the fog, a rhythmic, haunting
metronome that marked the passage of time. Evangeline's determination fueled her, her focus
narrowing to the singular task of closing the distance between her and Yoshika. The fog thickened,
turning the alley into a labyrinth of shadows and obscured paths. She could see Yoshika's form
flickering in and out of view, tantalizingly close yet maddeningly elusive. As they neared the end
of the alley, the fog parted slightly, revealing a dead-end littered with forgotten debris and the
skeletal remains of an old fire escape. Yoshika skidded to a halt, her breath coming in quick,
shallow gasps. She turned to face Evangeline, her eyes reflecting the dim, flickering light.
Evangeline slowed, her steps cautious now, her breath steadying as she approached. The fog
swirled around them, a ghostly curtain that seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.

The alley was silent, save for the soft sounds of their breathing and the distant, mournful
creak of the fire escape. In that moment, the world seemed to shrink to the space between them,
the fog and darkness receding as they faced each other. The chase had ended, but the night held
its secrets close, the fog a reminder of the mysteries that still lingered in the cold, dark alleyway.

Before Evangeline could grasp Yoshika’s arm, Yoshika pulled out a gun.

And she held it at Evangeline.

Yoshika’s dark eyes, filled with a storm of emotions, traced the lines of Evangeline’s silhouette,
illuminated by the gentle moonlight. How could she do this? How could she extinguish the light
that had brought so much warmth to her life? Yoshika’s mind raced with memories—Evangeline’s
laughter, her touch, the way her eyes sparkled when she was lost in thought. Each recollection
was a dagger to her heart, twisting and tearing at her resolve. “Evangeline…” Yoshika’s voice
broke the silence, a fragile whisper that trembled on the edge of sorrow and despair.

Evangeline, her eyes widening at the sight of the gun in Yoshika’s hands. She took a hesitant
step forward, her expression a mix of confusion and concern.

“Yoshika, what’s going on? Why do you have that?” Tears welled in Yoshika’s eyes, blurring
her vision as she struggled to find the words.

“I… I must do this,” she choked out, her voice barely audible.

“But I can’t… I can’t hurt you.” Evangeline’s face softened, compassion and love shining
through her fear. She moved closer, her hands reaching out to Yoshika.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Yoshika. We can find another way. We
can face whatever it is together.” Yoshika’s grip on the gun tightened, her knuckles white with
the effort of holding on.

“I wish it were that simple,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“But there are things you don’t know, things I can’t explain. I love you, Evangeline. I love you
more than anything.”

The weight of her love and the impossibility of her task crushed her, the gun feeling like a
leaden chain binding her to a fate she couldn’t accept. She couldn’t kill Evangeline; she couldn’t
destroy the one person who meant everything to her. A sob escaped her lips as she made her
decision. With a final, anguished look at Evangeline, Yoshika turned the gun on herself, the barrel
pressing against her temple.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice a broken melody in the night. Evangeline’s scream
pierced the air, a raw, desperate plea as she lunged forward. But it was too late. The gunshot
echoed through the forest, a thunderous crack that shattered the stillness. Yoshika’s body
crumpled to the ground; her life extinguished in an instant. Evangeline fell to her knees beside
her, her tears mingling with the blood-soaked earth. She cradled Yoshika’s lifeless body, her sobs
reverberating through the clearing. The moon watched silently from above, a solitary witness to
the tragic end of a love that couldn’t withstand the cruel demands of fate. In the cold, unforgiving
night, the world seemed to weep with Evangeline, the wind whispering a mournful dirge for a
love lost too soon.

Evangeline cried, but Yoshika’s body seemed to drift away. Her voice called out to her, and
Evangline, blind to reality, chased it, she chased it all the way to the rooftop.

33rd Floor, Kaisas

Evangeline stopped, a foot away from Yoshika.

The city lay sprawled beneath them, a mosaic of twinkling lights and distant murmurs that
seemed a world away from the rooftop they stood upon. The wind tugged at Evangeline’s hair,
whispering cold secrets as it swept across the edge of the building. Yoshika stood at that very
precipice, her back to Evangeline, her silhouette framed against the midnight sky. Evangeline’s
heart pounded in her chest, each beat a painful reminder of the gravity of the moment. Her
breath hitched as she took a hesitant step forward, her eyes locked on Yoshika’s fragile form. The
world around them seemed to blur, the distant sounds of the city fading into an eerie silence.

“Yoshika, please,” Evangeline’s voice trembled, a desperate plea carried on the wind. “
Come away from the edge. We can talk about this.” Yoshika turned slightly, her profile
illuminated by the faint glow of the city lights. Her eyes, deep pools of sorrow and resolve, met
Evangeline’s.

“Evangeline,” she began, her voice soft yet unwavering, “I need to tell you something.”

Evangeline’s heart clenched, a thousand unspoken fears coiling around her chest. She took
another step closer, her hands outstretched as if she could pull Yoshika back with sheer will.

“Tell me, Yoshika. Whatever it is, we can face it together.” Yoshika’s gaze softened, a
bittersweet smile touching her lips.

“I love you, Evangeline. I’ve always loved you. You were my light in the darkness, my reason
to keep going.” Evangeline’s breath caught in her throat, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Then stay with me, Yoshika. We’ll find a way through this. We’ll find a way to be together.”
But Yoshika shook her head, the sadness in her eyes deepening.

“Sometimes, love isn’t enough to save us from ourselves. Sometimes, the darkness is too
strong.” Evangeline’s mind raced, a tempest of emotions swirling within her—fear, desperation,
love, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

“No, Yoshika, please!” she cried, her voice breaking.

“I’m sorry, Evangeline. This is the only way I can find peace.”

The words hung in the air, a final, devastating truth that shattered Evangeline’s heart. She
lunged forward, her hand outstretched, but it was too late. Yoshika’s form seemed to hang in the
air for an eternal moment, her eyes locking with Evangeline’s, a silent farewell.

“No!” Evangeline screamed, her voice echoing into the void as Yoshika’s body disappeared
over the edge. She reached the railing, her hands gripping the cold metal, her knuckles white
with effort. She peered over to the side, her vision blurred by tears, her mind unable to process
the reality of what had just happened. The world felt like it had stopped, the city below a distant,
indifferent witness to her agony.

Evangeline’s knees buckled, and she collapsed to the rooftop, her sobs wracking her body.
The wind howled around her, a mournful cry that seemed to echo her own. Evangeline’s thoughts
churned, a chaotic storm of what-ifs and regrets. Why hadn’t she seen the signs? Why hadn’t she
been able to save her? The love she had for Yoshika was a beacon, but it had not been enough
to pierce the darkness that had claimed her. The night stretched on, each passing minute an
eternity of sorrow.

Evangeline clung to the railing, her heart shattered, her soul aching with the loss of the one
person who had meant everything to her. The stars above flickered like distant, uncaring eyes,
and the city continued its ceaseless hum, oblivious to the tragedy that had unfolded in its shadow.

“Thank you for everything.” Evangeline whispered, and she jumped.

[Don’t go, I plead]

[I need you right here next to me, baby]