He sees his hand shake as it reaches out to Her. He feels as if he’s piercing a veil — between accepting his fate and denying it, between dream and reality, between love and hate.

Yosuke: That ring… You need to get rid of it, Junna. You… You can’t just keep us trapped here. You can’t keep yourself trapped. You… You have to face tomorrow.

“… Why? What does tomorrow have to offer me, except for misery?”

Yosuke: … It won’t always be like that… I’m here. I’ll—

“Of course it won’t! Not when it can always be like this!”

Yosuke: Nothing is forever, Junna… Nothing is.

Her eyes are unbearably big as she catches his gaze. They are pleading with him. Begging. Why did he say that? Why didn’t he sacrifice himself for her sake? He should.

“You always say that… don’t you? Why don’t you ever learn? Why do you never learn?”

Yosuke: Because it’s—

“You don’t get it, do you? We’ve been having this exact conversation hundreds of times! Night after night after night, you realize something is wrong and you come back and you try to talk me out of this, and every single time, you—”

Yosuke: I… what?

“Go home, Yosuke. We’ll see each other again tomorrow.”

She moves to close the door. Faster than his mind can properly consider, he blocks Her off, his face closer to Hers than it has ever been. He can see his breath grazing her cheek. Why are Her eyes so big?

Yosuke: Is… Is it really the greatest day of your life, then, if it has to end with us fighting like this, over and over again? (he gazes into her eyes—God, were they always like this?) That means it’s not perfect, isn’t it? I… I might lose my memory, but I know you remember. Every single time you have to lie to me… Every single time I let you down by not buying it. It must weigh on you.

“Y-You’re wrong…”

Yosuke: Junna… This is not the greatest day of your life. The greatest day of your life does not end like this, I will make damn sure of it. So… Give up on that ring. Please.

“You don’t get it… I… I can’t.”

She takes off the ring and holds it up between both of their faces, between Her thumb and Her index finger, as if appraising it. It shimmers in the warm glow emanating from the hallway lighting behind Her, a bright emerald gemstone twinkling in its embrace by spotless silver.

“You’re right, Yosuke… This ring… is what’s granting my wish. I… I couldn’t bear it any longer. Something… Something had to change… And when you and mom and dad did such a… wonderful thing for me, I… I want you to know how grateful I am, and… I’m sorry it’s hurting you. But in the end… it can never be as bad as what I had to go through… day after day after—”

She winces bitterly. She is choking up.

“I… I’m sorry.”

He stares at the wretched, twinkling thing. Was he even still thinking straight? A magical ring?

But what else could it be?

“… So am I, Junna.”

The next few minutes pass in what feels like seconds. He snatches the ring out of Her delicate grasp. It falls to the hardwood floor. She wails in agony, lunging to reclaim Her precious, but his adrenaline kicks in as well. He is faster. Did they struggle? Wrestle each other over it? He doesn’t remember. It doesn’t matter. The ring ends up firmly clasped into his fist. She is clinging to his leg, pleading. He doesn’t want to see Her like this. She pulls him to the ground, crawls on top of him, trying to pry his fingers off of her precious trinket. She cries that he doesn’t understand. She has to let go. She has to let go. She has to let go. 

He manages to escape, stumbling a few steps into the hallway before his legs give in and he falls to the ground again — Why aren’t her parents hearing any of this? — He needs to destroy this damn thing. 

There’s a utility closet in front of him. There is a hammer in the utility closet. 

There is a scream. There is a struggle. 

There is the sound of a gem shattering. There is a broken ring in front of him. There is a shivering hand. 

There is nothing else. Nothing pleading. Nothing clinging to his leg. Nothing staring at him with unbearably big eyes. Only a lifeless lump of flesh lying in the hallway. 

There is nothing else. Nothing inside of him. No hope. No release. Only a black hole at the back of his throat.

There is nothing else. Pitch-black darkness on one end of the hallway, a closed door on the other, and in between, him. Him, and nothing else.

There are two glowing red eyes, looking at him from the darkness.

There is another lie. He knows there is.

He screams.