Akira didn't know where she was going, but she had to leave—leave behind this place teeming with ghouls and ghoul supporters and impossible ideas like there being good ghouls.
None of that could be true. Her parents wouldn't lie. They wouldn't waste their lives pursuing something wrong.
But Akira, as much as she wanted to deny it, already knew the truth.
She had seen the children, heard Rabbit's words, felt Fueguchi's warmth—how undeniably human she was. Right there, among those innocuous children and knowing adults, her world had come crashing down around her.
Akira was a person who always knew what she wanted and how to get it. That sudden loss of purpose was like dying, except her body still drew breath.
"Akira."
A familiar voice made her freeze. She should continue walking, be the one to leave him behind this time, but foolishly she turned. His gaze was enough to hold her in place.
"Where are you going?"
She wished she knew the answer herself, but admitting that would only make her seem more pathetic than she already was.
"Food. I want some delicious curry," she said the first thing she could think of, a lie so paper-thin that it tore then and there.
She could have left it at that and walked away, but she was so tired of keeping it all in. For once, she wanted to bare herself open and let everything tumble out.
It was only when she was done that he replied, "We're alive, you and I."
But "having life" wasn't the same as "living". Without the hatred she had carried since she was a child, there was nothing. She wanted to feel angry at him for his words, for talking like it was that easy to live devoid of reason, but she felt nothing. Empty.
He had an answer to that too, his voice ringing with confidence as he talked about accepting the emptiness. Facing it.
She had faced it in her coma, a darkness that swallowed her and everything else whole, and she had been glad to escape it. To face it again… she looked down.
"I can't… I'm terrified of it…"
In response, strong arms wrapped around her waist, tugging her forward, and she raised her head in shock.
He had always been too tall for his own good, the damn man.
"Then I'll support you, by your side."
He was soft and gentle and so close. The last time they had been this close was back in the graveyard, the day before everything went to hell.
But if this was another chance…
"Don't dodge this time," she said at last, voice hoarse and vision blurring as she stood on her toes. He bowed his head at the same time that she tentatively leaned upward.
And through the tears, the warmth of his lips, a sweetness she craved more than anything else, she realised—
She might not have the capacity to hate anymore, but she could certainly still love.
