He's Gone | Part Four to A Friend's Death |

Teruhashi Kokomi

The prettiest and most perfect girl in the world.

Everyone knew it. Even she.

They'd bow down to her. Thank the heavens for being born into the same world as her. Worship whatever she touched.

Glorify her.

Love her.

Adore her.

Everyone did so.

Except for him.

Saiki fucking Kusuo.

He ignored her. Glared at her. Detested her.

He didn't treat her any differently than his other friends.

It was both refreshing and frustrating.

How dare he...

He didn't know about everything she did to maintain her facade?!

She wanted him to gasp at her beauty. Lust for her. Realize how pathetic he is compared to her. For him to kiss her and love her body.

She wanted and needed him.

She at least deserves this for being perfect.

——

She...doesn't need to be perfect.

No one is truly perfect. You can only be a nice person, but not flawless.

He said so.

"If everyone was perfect, then what's the point? No conflict, nothing. Just mindless idiots doing what's told. It's be boring and pretty much everyone would die".

"That's an odd perspective".

"I guess", he said as he stood up mumbling, "but isn't everything about me odd".

Hm.

"Basically, no one needs to be flawless. Flaws make us...beautiful I guess. I mean, as long as you're a decent person. You're fine".

Such an odd boy.

——

He's dead.

He's dead.

Saiki is dead.

Her crush is dead.

Oh, he also knew she loved him. Yet, he didn't say anything. That was honestly...interesting.

He was observant. She'll give him that.

He knew.

Honestly, how didn't she see it.

He tried to make her lose interest. All those times, dammit. She's so blind at times.

She sat down on her bed.

Saiki's funeral is in a week.

She's going obviously.

Of course she would go.

——

"Saiki, how're you doing?" The image of perfection asked as she sat down besides the grave.

"Yuuta misses you! You should visit him some time", Kokomi smiled.

"Anyways, Saiki, I have been meaning to tell you something ever since High School", she placed a rose on his grave.

Perfection is overrated.