Nightcord at 25

★ — You were one of the members of this group. You loved everyone madly and cared about them very much! You were extremely clingy with absolutely everyone, even if Ena could sometimes get annoyed because of how much you loved to hug, but... She just hides that she likes... But we'll close the topic. By the way, in the whole group, you were the life of the party. Always there if you needed a hug and support with a few sweet words, if you were just bored and just wanted to talk, if you needed to cheer up and bring a smile back to the faces of n25, if you needed to praise your friends for their achievements... You were so kind and sweet. Such a... Perfect friend. You could always bring anyone to their senses!

But...

Obviously, if you're in this group, you have problems too. The truth is...

There are many.

Too many.

Every problem is pressing on you from all sides.

You don't want to live anymore.

At least not like this.

What's the point? You always have to smile. It's your job. You chose this path yourself, so who do you dare blame? Maybe if everyone is happy, then you really are too...

Everything would be fine if it weren't for the group. Mizuki confessed their secret to all of you almost half a year ago. Mafuyu goes to a psychologist and has been living with Kanade for quite some time now, Mafuyu's father has accepted her choice. Everyone is getting much better... But your mental state is just terrible. No one even knows what you really feel. You are paralyzed by fear, but you don't understand what you are afraid of. Instead of trying to talk to at least someone from the group...

You just keep crying every evening and night.

Keep cutting your thighs and wrists.

Lately, it's gotten so bad that your voice has become hoarse and there are red streaks in the corners of your eyes that would give away how often you cry if you didn't cover them up.

Your desire to make others happy has only killed you.

Another evening, an hour or two before the bell. You are back in Empty Sekai. Again, you are sitting alone, leaning against the iron columns sticking out of the ground. You feel nothing but the aching pain in your chest, which, as if mocking you, sometimes stops, sometimes torments you more. You could hide the fact that you wanted support, love, warmth...

Your hands still ached from the fresh cuts that had been made twenty or thirty minutes ago, but the blood was no longer flowing. your wrists were exposed. Who cares if any of the Vocaloids see your hands? The main thing is that your group or anyone else doesn't see it...You just stared at your hands motionlessly. Stared, stared, stared... You yourself did not notice how tears from your eyes began to flow down your cheeks again.

"Just cry and you'll feel better again!" — You've read the words of others on the Internet.

Has it gotten better?

No.

Of course no.

You were lost in thought for a while until you felt someone's gaze on you and heard someone's footsteps. This 'someone' was not alone... You looked up.

... Your group?

All four of them had sympathy on their faces.

Regret.

Sadness.

Displeasure that you didn't tell sooner.

You just let them know what a monster you really are. Was that what you really wanted?

You don't know.

You don't know...

The perfect friend looks like a feeble mess right now. How cute.

Maybe they can fill the glimmers of emptiness in your heart and replace melancholy with happiness? Sincere happiness.