「 blue | takada kenta 」

「 yellow 」

TAKADA KENTA saw Longguo sitting at an empty table in the near by café, sliding into the seat in front of him.
"You brought an umbrella, right?", Kenta asked quietly, taking out his sketch pad as he settled into the cushioned seat. Longguo nodded slowly, handing Kenta a cup of coffee and leaned back in his chair.

"Did you go to that guy's funeral? The one that died a week ago?", he inquired, taking a long sip of his macchiato. Kenta pursed his lips together and lowered his head, the other knowing very well that he did. 

Kenta always had that look after going to a funeral after he tried to save one of the unsuspecting victims - thin lips and glossy eyes that had guilt written all over them. At times he wouldn't even take care of himself depending how sad and awful the funeral was and Longguo always had to force him to take care of himself. It was a never ending cycle of attempting to save, failing and grieving with another stone weighing down on his shoulders for not being able to help. It was a miserable, cruel and devastating life that kept on beating him down every, single day with every life lost.

A death that died on his hands.

"It's not your fault, Kenta, everyone dies at some point", Longguo spoke up, breaking the chilling silence in attempts of making his friend feel a little bit better. 

"How could it not be my fault when I could've stopped it?", Kenta mumbled, his dull and guilty eyes meeting his friend's. The younger turned mute, running his finger against the rim of the mug and stared down at the dark liquid. The older let out a long sigh before he fished out his sketch journal and shoved it to him. 

"What's this?", Longguo asked, arching a brow before opening it up. He leaned in to inspect at Kenta's newest drawing, knitting his eyebrows together. He nodded slowly as he flipped to the next page, his eyes widening at the a girl's pale face with her blood draining from her body, her eyes losing its natural glow and light.

"It's an awful car crash with four cars in it, but why did you draw this person up close?", he asked warily, pointing to the girl lying almost dead on the road.

"It's the girl who works at the flower shop, she's going to die", Kenta replied quietly, looking down at the drawing with dark eyes.
"That's so...so sad. Isn't she the one who tries to talk to you whenever you go there?", Longguo asked, meeting the other's eyes. The latter nodded slowly, a small breath leaving his lips. 

"But...I don't want her to die yet", Kenta said in a low voice. Longguo pursed his lips together before shaking his head in regret. 
"Kenta, we aren't in charge of who lives or dies - it's just our job to collect them", he sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"Can't we save her?"

"That isn't our job. We are associated with death and we can't stop death - it's inevitable. And even when you try to stop the bad things from happening, they always end the same way", Longguo breathed out, taking a sip of his drink. "I'm sorry, that's just the cruel reality of life"

Kenta tapped his finger on the wooden table, his leg bouncing up and down as he stared off into nothing. He didn't want her to die, he didn't want her to leave this earth when she could do so much. She has a family left, she has friends that care about her - why was life so cruel? Why was death so cruel?

Maybe if he saved her, he wouldn't feel as bad - he wouldn't think it was impossible to save someone. He wouldn't be absorbed in guilt anymore, he would be able to breathe. 

"If I do save her, what would happen then?", he inquired, licking his lips. Longguo shrugged, running a hand through his dark and looked into his friend's desperate eyes.