Have you ever listened to the ragged rasp of your own breath, desperately clawing its way out of your chest? It's a haunting sound, an eerie symphony that relentlessly echoed through Kokichi's days, a stark reminder that his time was slipping away. Within Kokichi's fragile lungs, a garden of flowers had taken root, blossoming solely for Shuichi's sake. Yet Shuichi had no desire in this gift.
9 parts