What followed suit in the minuscule sequence of time was my supposed death.
Think of the chapter section's stretched narrative, thoughtfully heralding you now that it's only contained within a few seconds, as my foregoing regrets in literary form.
For better or for worse, I've seen my classmates fail before.
Individually, may it be at their own discretion or subjects to public embarrassment.
Since I've been among them for many years now, not separating since the first year of middle school.
They're exemplary to my reality checks and outbound experiences. As an example, Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi often entangled their communication lines together. Someone figured they might have been intercepting each other's butterflies due to their same exact star paths so they've never used it again simultaneously.
Somewhat like how an aspiring screenwriter regards failure movies as stepping stones in not making the same mistakes.
Failure is a compound comprising life therefore unavoidable.