「 blue | takada kenta 」

「 indigo 」

Sirens blared in the distance as he stood there at the grim sight. He let out a heavy breath, a giant lump in his chest as he felt his arms go limp to his sides. Four cars were smashed together, a person in between all of it. He recognized the girl immediately, looking at her lifeless body shiver on the cold streets, blood rushing out of her like a river as the lights in her eyes slowly dim. She coughed out blood, meeting his eyes as a tear ran down her bloodied cheek, her head falling lifelessly onto the ground, her body stopped shaking as her eyes still looked into his, but this time with nothing in it.
He screamed in pain as he felt his knees crash onto the cement floors of the sidewalk and cried loudly.
The girl at the flower shop died, and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

TAKADA KENTA woke up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily as he runs his hand through his dark brown hair, his chest tightening as he held onto his frantic heart.

She's going to die.

He gulped loudly, his body feeling hot in his cold room as his pale and shaking hands ran over his terrified face.
"It's just a dream...it won't happen", Kenta mumbled to himself, too afraid to speak up. "It's not going to happen...it can't happen"

But it will, it always does.

➴ ➴ ➴

Kenta ran down the halls of the campus, jogging because his professor released him out of his class late. He looks down at his watch, shaking his head with regret as he picsked up his pace.

He has a big exam in his Art History which was freaking him out because he only has two minutes before it starts. This was a big portion of his grade and since he was literal trash at that subject, he studied all week in hopes of bringing up his grade. Since his professor released his class late, he had a high chance of being late to the exam which meant his teacher will give him a big, fat F.

Not today, I worked too hard just to get an F for being a minute late.

Too absorbed in his thoughts, he bumped into someone, their papers flying everywhere. He should just walk away, he should just hurry off to his next class, but he doesn't. He lets out a deep breath, turning around to help pick up their papers and books.

"I got it - you don't have to help me", a girl's voice quickly says, scurrying to pick up her papers. Kenta doesn't look at her, but her voice is familiar. Her voice was soft and as smooth as velvet, yet her voice was one that he heard frequently. She let out an involuntarily gasp, causing him to look up and meet her gentle eyes.

"Boy over flowers!"

Kenta tilted his head and looked at the girl in front of him, her ebony hair falling on her shoulders. It quickly registered in his brain that she's the girl who always works at the flower shop, the one who tries to make conversation with him.

He does like that she makes an effort to get to know him, but feels bad that he never responds and doesn't even know her name. He knew that it was rude, but he was doing it for the both of them.

She's going to die, Kenta, don't get attached.

Truth be told, however, Kenta never got a good look at her; black, short hair and on the slightly tanner side of the spectrum. Soft eyes with rosy cheeks, small freckles here and there - he won't lie, she was pretty. He shook his head at that thought, realizing that he was staring at her before he handed her papers back to her and stood up.

"Thank you", she smiled at him with bright eyes. "I'll see you later!"

Kenta nods as she rushes away, about to sprint to his class, but he notices a paper folded on the floor. He knew that it was something that Flower Girl dropped. He picked it up and unfolded it, his eyes growing wide as he looked at the amazingly drawn drawing.