Breakfast Club
The first person to walk away from the group was Yuki. He had heard Kasai’s voice, a voice he hadn’t heard from in a very long time, and absolutely needed to investigate it. If he was out there, waiting, then there was a reason for the candy-hungry ice sculptor to keep living.
The second and third to leave were Ina and Rokuro, having grown slightly close to each other in their silence, deciding it would be best for Ina to have some protection getting to her family far up north.
The fourth to leave was Tomoe, who heard the angry, raspy voice of his grandmother, still alive somewhere. While he never really grew to be the conventional friend of most of the class, he’ll always look back on this time as the most important in his life.
The fifth to leave was Minako, hearing her parents call out to her in the end. She had really almost spent their lives as fuel for a better one without them, and likely feels great guilt pang her heart due to that. They had taken her in when she had nothing, and their love could never be traded for anything the universe could offer. Her leaving was still a little somber, as the respect she did have for her classmates was definitely still there.
Pauwau was the sixth to leave. She didn’t have any location in particular she wanted to go to, but the stinging words of Hikari still rattled her mind. That she might be able to see her again one day. If Loki was telling the truth, and the spirits without bodies just stop existing, then what’s the point? For now, maybe wandering is the best option. Just...see what happens. Maybe she’ll run into Yoshito and Yasuo again. Maybe she can live with them again. Like old times.
And finally, there was Petra.
Petra could never predict this world being the one she ends up in, especially alive. She’s powerless now, branded, the wounds still stinging around her eyes. What was she to do but lay down and perish right now? To just...sleep, until it was all over.
So that’s what she did. She decided to just lay down on the grass and close her eyes.
And when she opened them again, a familiar face was watching.
A glowing, blue, vocaloid hand lent itself to Petra. She had made one friend, after all.
