The people I hate the most are dead. Except for one.

[ Except for Shota.

So, he pictures it. Shota and that fake, empty smile he put on in front of peers and teachers. Flashing it for the people in town. Charming everyone he thought would benefit him.

What was mostly sadness gives way to a spike of anger. ]

… I don’t really want to think about that. Please. You’re not like him.