For You

I couldn’t simply move on from this. Saying goodbye to Ren wasn’t as easy for me as it was going to be for everyone else.

They didn’t know what we had just been through together…what Ren had just done to bring back Junpei.

Walking away wasn’t something I could do at that moment.

Unlike everyone else, my final goodbye to Ren was chaotic. Before Junpei could pull me away, I lunged at Ren, throwing myself into the coffin and aiming to wrap my arms around him.

But barely a moment before I reached him, my father caught me in the act, swinging me away from the coffin and carrying me to a different room. As he did, I heard everyone gasping as they watched my father lug me onto his shoulders and firmly squeeze his arms around me so I wouldn’t escape.

The embarrassment failed to consume me. The only thought that plagued my mind was whether I could do anything to save Ren. After all that we had been through, there was an obvious answer.

No.

My father gently put me down onto the floor, cupping the back of my head with his hand and staring into my eyes softly. His voice was calm, clearly in an attempt to lower the tension between us.

“What’s gotten into you, Taro?”

I wept instead of answering.

“Ever since Ren was attacked by those thugs, you’ve been so quiet and reserved, it’s scared me and your mother. But now, you suddenly enter a rage…why?”

I finally spoke as my father cleared the tears from my eyes with his other hand. “I—I don’t know.”

I received a hug in response; a hug that undid me, pulling me back into a long, helpless cry.

That was until Junpei appeared, solemn-looking and obviously concerned about how I was behaving.

I appreciated how strong and mature he was acting — unlike me. He gave me a hug, too, offering me some words of comfort. Though he was clearly suffering as well, he dealt with the pain far better than I did.

Considering that I was his older sibling, realistically, I should’ve been the one setting the example of how to act so maturely.

We both knew we’d eventually heal, even if we could never return to who we were before Ren’s death, it was certainly better than remaining in the state we were currently in.

After a long while, Junpei helped me to my feet and we headed back to the car. Despite living what felt like at least a whole week, only about an hour had passed since the arrival of the Being. So much had happened since then; I had so many memories; so many thoughts about what I had experienced.

The only person who I could’ve talked to about it was…well, Ren.

The car journey home was strange.

I had to quickly adjust to living in this reality.

No powers. No superhuman strength. No fantastical world to explore.

It was dull to say the least.

Yet what I couldn’t stop thinking about was the ending of the game. How wrong every possibility I had thought of was. Nothing I had predicted came to fruition — not one bit.

Not only did one of us have to die, and therefore us three brothers had no chance of being reunited, but I had also kept every single memory.

What appeared to be the ultimate ending was that Junpei had replaced Ren in the exact life I was living before being transported to the other world. Ren had been attacked, Junpei blamed himself for not walking home with him that day, and Junpei took on the role of guiding me around school and helping me through the day while I slowly healed from my grieving.

Knowing this made the prospect of telling people about my experience all the more tempting.

Undoubtedly, it at most could perhaps make a good story to tell my kids or grandchildren — if I ever end up having any.

If I were to tell it now, everyone would think I was crazy; or perhaps they’d perceive my story as part of my grieving — a delusion that was helping me justify Ren’s death.

But then again, there was still something I had considered during my time in the other world.

What if there were other people who had experienced something similar before? If they did, we would share something in common and therefore be able to discuss the experience, trying to figure out what everything actually meant.

I was quick to rid my mind of that idea, however. If I were to try that method, I’d merely expose myself online, most likely being viewed by all of those who saw me and didn’t reciprocate as a loser who had lost his mind.

I overcame the burning urge to tell others faster than expected.

In fact, I healed far quicker than one would’ve thought. Surprisingly, life wasn’t as hard as it was before we were transported to the game. It took me a while to truly figure out why that was but, once a couple of months had passed, I found the answer.

It was because I was able to live with the comfort that Ren died a hero. Ren hadn’t died pointlessly and for absolutely no reason.

Because of that, life wasn’t so much of a blip as it was before.

The events of the game never left my mind, and they didn’t haunt me like they should have. To tell the truth, I often reminisced on those times whenever I felt overwhelmed or tired of everything else around me and needed to find a way to relax.

Thinking about it all…Ren…Izumi…even the monsters helped put me at ease.

And it wasn’t only the memories from the other world that had a lasting effect on me.

Strangely, upon arriving home from the funeral, I found a figurine of Khrom, The Destroyer, sitting on Ren’s bed, tightly tucked into the bed cover, resting against one of his pillows. I hadn’t a clue how it got there or why, but I didn’t bother questioning it. It must've been put there for me to take.

And take it I did.

I began to carry it around almost everywhere I ventured to. Sometimes I had to carry it around me a little more discreetly — school was a prime example. At times I’d hide it in my bag and hold it in my hands if I began feeling a little anxious.

Even now, I was taking advantage of that trick.

Khrom’s figurine rested in my bag which sat on my lap as I sat on yet another leather sofa. I twisted his legs, scratched his fingers against my arm — anything minimal that cheap figurines like this one could be used for.

Even I found it strange. But it helped, and that’s what mattered to—

“Taro – Applicant number 17.” A beautifully dressed and sharp-jawed lady with blonde hair and seductive glasses appeared through a door not too far away from my side. She glanced at me with a wide smile, noticing that I must’ve been Taro as no one else sat in the room with me.

“Please come with me. My superiors are ready to begin the interview.”

I hastily tucked the figurine at the bottom of my bag, handing it over to someone at reception before nervously hobbling over to the lady who called my name.

I hoped the interview would go well. As with most things in that profession, I knew I’d only be able to tell anyone how it went if I was successful.

Looking back, I realised I hadn’t stopped chasing the goal Ren told me to never give up on. Even without him by my side, his words pushed me forwards. Somehow, life started to feel lighter after I stuck by what he had said to me.

I had forced myself to be more open, more approachable — and strangely enough, it worked. I found myself making new friends, laughing more often, even talking to girls without feeling like I’d crumble apart.

Junpei and I grew closer, too. We weren’t just brothers anymore; we were best friends. There were evenings where he dragged me along to bowling with his friends, and though I was hopeless at it, the simple act of being there with him meant everything. I even sacrificed sleep a couple of times a week so I could game endlessly with him until our eyes couldn’t take it anymore.

I knew I was still healing, still learning, still recovering from everything that had happened.

But I knew if I never stopped working hard, I was going to make everyone around me proud.

That’s why giving up was never an option. I was going to ensure that my efforts weren’t going to go to waste.

I’d do it all for my mother…for my father…and for Junpei.

But, most importantly, Ren, I’d do it all…

For you.