Crimson Afflictions

"A mysterious encounter."

1

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Osamu.

Life is a peculiar joke, isn't it? A grand performance where the audience applauds but never truly cares. I've danced on this stage for seventeen years, yet the spotlight feels more like a noose tightening around my neck. Each day, I wear a mask of laughter, pretending that the weight of existence doesn't crush me like a forgotten paper ball.

They say life is precious, but what if it's just a series of unfortunate events wrapped in fleeting moments of joy? Like confetti thrown into a storm- beautiful for a second, then gone, swept by the winds of despair. I've seen enough tragedy to know the punchline and let me tell you, it's not funny.

Suicide is often treated like a taboo subject, a dark secret tucked away in the corners of conversation. But here's the thing: it's not the act itself that terrifies me; it's the thought that lingers, nagging at the back of my mind like an unwanted guest. I've had my share of close calls, each one like a whisper urging me to embrace the final curtain call. But maybe that's the cruelest joke of all- I'm not sure i want to leave this world, yet I can't find the will to stay. What a delightful paradox.

There's a peculiar comfort in the thought of ending it all. It's like the world's chaotic symphony suddenly fading into silence. No more pain, no more expectations, just an empty void that promises peace. Yet here I am, trapped in a bizarre game of hide and seek with my own mind. I reach for the light, only to be pulled back into the shadows.

I wonder what they'd say at my funeral. "Such a shame, he had so much potential." Potential? What a laugh. Potential for what? To become another hollow shell, drifting through life, pretending to care while feeling absolutely nothing? No, I think I'd rather be remembered as the boy who laughed at the darkness rather than the one who succumbed to it.

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A loud slap echoes around the hall, coming from the corner where were in.

My smirk didn't falter as i straightened the collar of my uniform, looking amusedly at the girl in front of me who's nearly in a fit of rage.

"Now, what was it you were saying about not being interested in me? Because that slap tells a different story."

The girl crossed her arms, eyes narrowing.

"You're insufferable."

"And yet, you can't seem to stay away." I winked, turning to walk down the hallway, leaving her fuming behind me. My friends caught up, still chuckling, but my mind had already moved elsewhere.

"You really think you can get away with it?"

I didn't bother looking up at my friend who's seemingly used to this sort of situations, daiki. He seems done with me. It's a pleasure, i guess?

"Get away with what? Breathing?"

Yuuto snickered, leaning in closer. "No, being slapped like that and still smiling."

I finally glanced up, smirking.

"What can I say? I'm a masochist for danger."

The thought itself suits me. One could say it's the thrill that it emits. I can't get enough of it.

"Yeah, we kinda figured that out a while ago." Yuuto deadpanned. I laughed.