The Pseudo Semicolon

CHAPTER 2 || PART: 2

Devland stretched out his arm, propelling his body forward as he gripped the window frame with his other hand. His fingertips brushed against the top of the package, startling poor Steve who angrily pecked at the rope bindings. With one last push, he hooked his finger around the rope and lifted it, settling it in front of him.

He stared at the package, confused and intrigued.

Devland finally got up and took out the pocket knife from his drawer, slicing the bindings and tearing open the package only to find a box. Curiosity pricked his skin as he lifted the lid, finding only a note and a diary inside of it. Max, what is all of this?

Devland opened the note, exhaling sharply as he recognised Max's loopy handwriting. It said:

I'm probably dead by the time you're reading this, Devland.

'Wonderful way to start the letter, Max.' Devland scoffed to himself, ignoring the way his heart slowly sank.

I just want to say, I'm sorry—I'm sorry for leaving you behind to deal with our parents. I'm sorry for the hurt you're going through, I hope by the end of all this, you understand why I did the things I did.

I hope you forgive me.

It's okay if you don't, I get it. Anyway, I'm also sorry for what I'm about to put you through, but I have no one else. It's kinda funny, I always pretended to be the extroverted brother around you, teasing you for not having friends when I had nobody myself.

The truth is, I'm as lonely as you, Devland. I

I thought, if you didn't know about all the bad things in my life, you wouldn't worry about me—that you wouldn't burden yourself with thoughts about me. I̶ c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'t̶ b̶e̶a̶r̶ t̶h̶e̶ t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶t̶ o̶f̶

I wish you the best of luck. I know you can do it–you've always been stronger than me. I want you to find Akira Fukumoto and take him with you. I think you'll like him and you'll need him for what's about to come and I know it will.

Also, DON'T TRUST THE ELITES.

My time is running out so—

D̶o̶n̶'t̶ c̶o̶m̶e̶ m̶e̶e̶t̶ m̶e̶ e̶a̶r̶l̶y̶ p̶l̶e̶a̶s̶e̶.
 E̶a̶t̶ f̶o̶o̶d̶ d̶a̶i̶l̶y̶, s̶t̶a̶y̶ h̶y̶d̶r̶a̶t̶e̶d̶ [̶?̶]̶
 I̶'m̶ s̶o̶r̶r̶y̶
 I̶ w̶a̶n̶t̶ t̶o̶ s̶e̶e̶ y̶o̶u̶ a̶g̶a̶i̶n̶

I love you, Devland.

Yours Lovingly,
Your stupid brother.

Devland leaned against the window frame, looking up as a certain aching numbness spread through his body.

"You're sorry?" He whispered to no one in particular, "You're sorry for everything you've done? Everything you're going to put me through? You can't leave me alone even after you're dead, can't you? Why—" He faltered. You've always been stronger than me.

No, Max. I was always the coward.

Devland looked down at the letter, trembling slightly in his hands. "Stupid." He said softly, "Stupid Max, Stupid brother. What did you do this time?"

Find Akira Fukumoto. Who the everloving fuck was Akira Fukumoto?

A vague memory of a last name, dredged up from his murky memories, played in his mind's eye; Fukumoto.

He had to find Aster Fukumoto.