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The resolute end that comes from something from the dull thud of a body hitting concrete, and to a certain extent, the echo of that thud, felt like the end of a chapter in a book he was the antagonist of. Everyone is the main character of their own life story, but for Rei, he was the unfortunate end to dozens if not hundreds of other books. People’s lives inter-weaved together like a long scarf. When he thinks too hard about it, he thinks about the fates in Greek mythology knitting together hundreds of those thread lines into one.
People came in and people went out, everyone binded together until they weren’t. Not all exits are made equal. Some people leave in big explosions of emotion; losing them feels like losing a limb. Some exits are quiet and unfair. As he looks down at where Miri and Kazuki’s bodies were posed in the living room after their execution, he realizes for the first time that both of these can be true at once.
He can’t look anywhere else but at them. He knew before stepping foot inside what was waiting for him, and the mess of the kitchen confirmed it before his eyes landed on the blood matted mess of blond hair. He didn’t even bother to take his shoes off when he came inside. Rei does clean the kitchen- Kazuki would have hated the mess. He turns the stove off, dumps the stew pot into the sink, and does the dishes. He wipes down the counters, pulling everything out like Kazuki used to yell at him for. He mops up the blood- both in the kitchen and any that has dripped from the exit hole in Kazuki’s skull.
He knows it was Ogino. Rei saw him in the alley behind the complex covered in blood and he knew before they made eye contact, Rei knew. He shot Ogino in the head before he had bothered to look up from his completely idiotic book. The thud of his body was the only sound that he could focus on that wasn’t the rabbit pounding of his own heart. Rei didn’t look. Ogino had some big idea about words being worth something, and if he was writing that means Kazuki must have said something worthwhile. He doesn’t want to know.
He reorganizes Miri’s backpack by the door, almost wishing he could force tears out when his eyes land on a few drops of blood splatter on the pink fabric. He removes Kazuki’s abandoned mug from the dining table, and starts to carry it into the kitchen when it slips from his fingers and crashes to the floor sending shards of ceramic and long cold coffee across the wood and the bottom of his suit pants.
Rei’s phone pings. He’s expecting Kyutaro, but the message from the boss telling him it was time to come home makes a decision he didn’t know he was rotting with for him. He tosses the device on the couch, and sits gingerly on the opposite side of Miri. If not for the cold silence of their bodies, Rei could almost convince himself that this is a nightmare. Instead, he kisses the clean spot on Miri’s temple and Kazuki’s cheek. He mutters apologies like prayers over and over again until his tongue is fat in his mouth and hot tears finally spill from his eyes. Rei kicks his own shoes off. Pressing the barrel of his gun against his own temple, he ends his story as well.