...
Warm sky, dog-like mood.
The guys who bullied me to death in middle school confessed that they liked me.
How did it feel at first? A feeling of emptiness washed over me. Horrific memories were frozen around me like photographs. The wounds I'd been hit stung, and it hurt like I'd been hit again. It hurt, hurt, hurt. I still remember that pain as a dream. The thought that it was just a joke to you all made me furious.
You are all selfish bastards.
Those guys I really, really want to kill like crazy.
I really hate the way those eyes are looking at me. I want to burst into tears and ask why they did that.
"Back then, we... No. I'm sorry."
Eyes filled with emotion, so funny. Emotion. There's no weakness so weak. I'll return the hurt you've inflicted, multiplied.
"... good."
"uh?"
"You said you liked me. I like you too."
"then,"
"Let's fight each other."
"what?"
"I like you. If we fight to the death and win, I'll like you."
If you love me enough to fight if I tell you to, and die if I tell you to, then you can.
They fight, tearing at each other.
Think carefully about who is going to win.
"...."
"...."
"...."
"What are you doing? You're not fighting."
Because I have your leash.
Think carefully, kids.