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A year had passed since Osamu found his twin’s lifeless body in their shared bathroom. Guilt and despair constantly reminded him that he was at fault for what made Atsumu do the unimaginable. Every day he walked through the school corridors with his head down low, his dyed grey hair partly blocking his line of vision. Students whispered, teachers stared, some with looks of sympathy, others with looks of disgust; they knew how Osamu treated his brother, they knew what he did which led Atsumu into taking his own life.
School went by ever so slowly for the grieving male, every day he felt like a doll, children would stare at or play doctors with, as people became obsessed with trying to ‘fix’ him. Local news reporters treated Osamu like he was an alien, poking and prodding him for answers. Everyone wanted to know what happened to Atsuu now that he was dead, but no one ever tried to help him while he was alive. This angered Osamu, he spent nights screaming in his room wishing he could’ve been there for his twin.
‘Why,’
He shouted,
‘Why didn’t I look out for him? I was his best friend, we were twins for Christ's sake!’
That night he yelled at himself until he had no voice left, he cried until he couldn’t anymore.
The day of the funeral was without a doubt the worst day for Osamu. The stares and sorrowful glances that were shown his way felt like a stab to his back, and with every ‘I’m so sorry for your loss’ the knife cut through deeper. Guilt’s filthy hands wrapped around his neck, making every breath short and shaky.
When his mother announced it was time for Osamu to recite his speech, he anxiously made his way next to Atsumu’s casket. Eyes were glued to the toned male. In, one, two, three... Out, one, two, three. All he had to do was breathe, and not let his culpability show.
‘Atsumu was, well my twin’
He let out a forced chuckle as he gestured to the large photo of his twin. Atsumu looked so happy, like he had no worries in the world. Oh, how he was always so good at masking his feelings, putting on an act so others wouldn’t lose sleep over him.
‘When we were younger we were practically connected at the hip. Ma would say that we were conjoined twins’
Gazing out to the audience, Osamu made eye contact with his mother. As to be expected, she was crying, however, she was also smiling. She cared for her babies more than anything in the world, she couldn’t help but wonder where she went wrong.
‘Yknow we- ‘Tsumu and I, used to joke we had twin telepathy. Of course, we didn’t really, but it was funny to prank our friends’
‘Our friends’ Osamu was lying, he knew that those ‘friends’ didn’t consider Atsumu to be their friend, but why rub salt in the wound? It was easier for him to just lie through his teeth and make people believe Atsumu at least got a proper childhood. One that wasn’t spent chasing after his brother who didn’t even bother to put in any effort with him.
The speech continued on with Osamu spitting out bent versions of what happened while Atsumu was still breathing.
‘He was always the stronger out of the two of us. I thought nothing could ever stop him, but I guess it all piled up, and well, became too much for him to bear.’
Grabbing a handkerchief out of his pocket, the teenager wiped away the tears that had started to form. Unfortunately, tears just wouldn’t stop spilling out from his bluey-grey eyes. As much as Osamu tried, he wasn’t capable of holding himself together. His speech was left unfinished, as he couldn’t bring himself to lie anymore.
The rest of the funeral felt like a blur. To Osamu, it seemed like everyone keep on moving but him. People would get up speak, while he was forced to bite his tongue and stay quiet. His left knee bounced up and down in anxiety, worrying if others blamed him for his twin’s death. Would people resent him forever? Would he ever be able to forgive himself?
No.
The boy thought. He was the reason Atsumu was buried six feet under, and nothing he could do would change that.
Graduation was supposed to be a day of celebration, a closing to a chapter of your life spent enjoying your youth. It’s a day meant for commemorating with your peers with whom you just spent three years with. It’s not supposed to be a day spent lost in the past and regret. It’s not a day meant for wishing someone who isn’t alive would be standing there in a graduation cap and gown.
Unfortunately for Osamu, graduation was everything it wasn’t supposed to be. He spent the day alone, isolating himself from his classmates and ‘friends’. Everything around him reminded him of Atsumu, the volleyball team, other students with badly bleached hair, and even his mother’s hugs. But of course, Osamu managed to get through it, smiling, slightly teary-eyed, while holding up a picture of his brother for his photo. Even after all the torment Osamu put Atsumu through, he still had always wanted the graduate with his twin by his side; the same way they started elementary school.
‘I’m so proud of you, Osamu,’
His mother told him, gently caressing his cheek. She was crying, as she had been doing a lot recently. Losing her son had taken a huge toll on her, no parent should ever have to attend their own child’s funeral. Osamu couldn’t help but feel guilty, his mother just lost one of her kids, then was forced to see her other kid who look identical to him every day. Surely that couldn’t have helped her grieve.
‘Ma, I’m… scared,’
He looked into his mother’s honey brown eyes, they were just like Atsumu’s.
‘You’re going to be all right. I love you,’
Doubt was not evident in her voice, she had faith in every word.
‘I love you too,’
Packing up for university was an emotional experience. Osamu had to put his and Atsumu’s childhood bedroom into boxes, either to be donated, moved into storage or to be transported to his university dorm with him. Apparently cleaning out Atsumu’s belongings was supposed to help with moving on, according to the counsellor his mother had started seeing. However, to Osamu, it didn’t feel that way.
He stumbled through piles of clothes, moving some of Atsumu’s clothes into the ‘take to uni’ pile. Recordings of old volleyball matches that the twins used to obsess over were moved into the ‘storage’ box; for old times sake. Posters and toys Osamu had without a doubt overgrown ended up in the ‘donate’ bag, with the exception of a few.
Osamu felt relieved, like part of the weight on his back had been removed. Well, that was until he found the notebook.
It was an obnoxious shade of pink with the names ‘Atsumu’ and ‘Osamu’ messily written on the front. Osamu knew that it was Atsumu’s handwriting, as he was the more confident writer out of the two of them. The pages were filled with drawings, stories, diary entries, and stickers. Each page was just a memory Osamu had almost forgotten about, like the first time they rode their bikes to school. Things were so simple back then, why did it all have to change?
A sob escaped the boy’s throat, as he flipped to the next page. It was an innocent drawing of a treehouse Atsumu and Osamu wanted to live in when they were older. They had planned to live together, forever. The thought of one of them dying before the other never occurred to them, nonetheless it being the other’s fault. They used to be so happy, what went wrong? What did Osamu do wrong?
The last page in the book was ripped out, but Osamu had no memory of them ripping out a page. Then it hit him. The note Atsumu left him. Launching towards his desk, he skimmed through seemingly tons of misplaced papers before finding it. ‘I thought we were supposed to be bestfriends’ was written in Atsumu’s handwriting, which had improved a lot since he wrote their names on the notebook.
Lining up the note with the small bit of the ripped out page that was left in the book, Osamu cried harder than he ever had in his entire life. They matched up perfectly. Atsumu had been looking through their childhood memories before he took his own life, he couldn’t even stay for them.
‘Atsumu,’
He screamed, thankful his mother was not home.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be your bestfriend.’