No, no, no, no—
The world faded from view. The world collapsed in an instance. What I, Komaru Naegi, knew as reality had crumbled. The new reality born from my past beliefs death—it fits with what I know, but it still feels unbelievable. The evidence haunts me. My eyes were wide with disbelief at the words coming out of Monaka Towa's mouth, and my voice was cracking when I finally spoke.
“ Junko wouldn't do that!”
The bodies, the tragedies, the wars. There was no way Junko was the cause. There's no way the girl I knew would do that.
There's no way she'd just lock me away, to rot.
But the truth of that matter was; all the destruction, and pain– everything, everything—
Junko did that.
My girlfriend did that.
And I didn't even notice the warning signs.
(It's obvious, in retrospect, in a way. I had already known these kids knew Junko—it had felt nonsensical, random, but with this new information—with Junko Enoshima as the mastermind behind the tragedy—it suddenly makes much more sense. But I can't believe it. I don't want to believe the girl I knew could be capable of this—)
“ You loved Junko, too, didn't you, big sis Komaru?”
“ Yes ,” it was desperate, and ugly, “God, yes .”
“Well, why don't you join me then?” The question lingered in the air, my mouth dry. It was like I had suddenly forgotten how to move in my own body, how to open my mouth and say no, no, no… it was like I knew if I did manage to speak, it wouldn't be what I wished I could say. Because I'm not that strong.
Because I wanted to say yes.
I wanted to say yes, I wanted to be angry. I wanted to hate this world who didn't understand Junko, who refused to look at her. Who acted like she was a demon and not the very human girl she was. They pushed her to this, they drove her to this. It was their fault; everything was their fault. If it wasn't for them, if it wasn't for this cruel, cruel world, Junko would be….
(She was dead. Oh God, she was dead. She couldn't have been dead. I can still remember talking with her, loving her. Makoto—my own brother—he couldn't have killed her. This was a lie. This all had to be a lie—)
It had to have been their fault. I knew Junko; she was sweet and kind, and somewhat mischievous. She was a sad girl, underneath, too. She loved to play pranks, and they always made me smile. She was the sun, a forest fire, so intense and yet dwindling to embers.
(A candle is very easy to extinguish; it's only strength is that it spreads. But even despite that, that small flame can come to burn everything you ever loved down to the ground, and leave you with only it's cinders.
Junko has left me with soot.)
But she was the one who did all this? Destroyed the world, hurt my brother, twisted these kids until they thought genocide was okay?
It wasn't her fault. Not the Junko I knew. It couldn't have been; that couldn't have been her, and she couldn't have been a lie.
Junko had told me, that sometimes, nothing felt like it had meaning. She had looked so sad, so lonely. Despair is inevitable; hope only brings about it greater. There's no point in hoping.
There's no point in hoping.
(Maybe she was right.)
“No.” It was Touko's voice,“No.”
“ Komaru is staying right here, where she belongs.”
A pause.
“With me.”
Touko is standing in defiance, moving to shield me with herself. She looks determined.
“Touko, what-?”
“Junko isn't the only person in your life, idiot. N-Not anymore. A-And don't you have Makoto, too? I don't know about you, b-but I wouldn't want to be the one who tells him that h-his little sister went c-crazy with grief and joined the ‘dark side’.”
She pauses, and whispered, so low I could hardly hear her, “A-And I need you too, you dolt.”
I couldn't speak, all over again, but this time for a different reason. Tears had gathered in my eyes. Touko floundered a bit, demanding to know why I was crying.
“Ah, geez– d-did I mess up somewhere? Argh, I'm new to this whole ‘friendship’ thing. Why is this so hard?!”
My throat crackled, hoarse from the stress of my tears, “You did nothing wrong, Touko. Thank you.”
Thank you.
And I truly meant it. Even if after this, I will lose sight of myself again, and try to break the controller. Even if she has to remind me time and time again, I know she will be there. Even if I forget, even if I too am a sad girl who cannot believe in hope, I know Touko Fukawa will be there to help pull me back up. And I would do the same for her; I will try to be the waves that calm her. In my time of need, she was there, a shining pillar of light, and guidance. My rock.
My second love.
My moon.
“You're… so different than her.”
It comes out barely there, more of a breath than a whisper. She doesn't hear it, but I smile anyways.
And I take Touko's outstretched hand.
(I am the earth, and her push pull calls me. I will try to sooth her with my sea, be stable with my land as she is for me. Junko burns; she is what would one day destroy me. But the moon is made from pieces of me, reflecting back, a gentle light. The moon, it calls me to its side in the end. Separate, but apart. Without it, there are no tides to speak of. Without the tides, there is no life.)
I would fight for this love, I think.