It felt like magic, like a waking dream. I was just wandering around when I saw you through the window, breaking down in tears. I went to you out of pure curiosity, and that was my mistake. You clung to me like a madman, crying, and I didn't understand it. I didn't understand, yet for some reason, I found it endearing.

Apparently, I looked like a dead man named Hayato Kagami. I don't know the guy. Well, if it makes the person in front of me happy, I suppose it's fine—or so I thought at the time.

Gradually, as I spent time with you, my mask of composure began to crack—or rather, it was torn away. Every time you opened your mouth, it was either about Hayato Kagami or complaints about work. You weren't seeing me as me; you were seeing me as Hayato Kagami, and I felt a sensation like my blood was boiling. I also couldn't forgive the people who made such a wonderful person vent like this.

My, my. I've become quite human, haven't I? I mocked myself.

While you were sleeping, I placed my hands around your slender, white neck. I would kill you, and we would live in eternity together. I had made that decision. So why... why can't I put any strength into my hands? I'm... I'm already far gone, aren't I?

While you were away at work, I tried to kill myself. I stabbed my stomach, my legs, my head—all of it with a kitchen knife. And yet. Just like before, I couldn't die. The flesh regenerates instantly. Being immortal, being an angel... it's nothing more than a curse. All that remained was a pool of blood that lacked scent, warmth, or anything at all.

You came home. I was happy, yet melancholy. What started was the venting. "I'm tired," "I want to quit," "I can't take it"—how many times do you think I've heard that string of words?

You're only human, after all; I could easily end you with my angelic power. I'm tired of hearing your complaints. Those people who make you suffer... I should just kill them with my own hands.

I didn't feel like granting them a gentle death. Using what humans call "brainwashing," I made them kill themselves. Rain, agonizing screams, splatters of blood. It was like something out of a movie.

It's a great shame I couldn't show you this moment. Should I have brought an electronic device and recorded a video? Ah, but electronics are weak to water, aren't they?