Tino sat down on a swing, kicking his legs back and forth, staring at the ground. The thoughts had come back again, to taunt him and make him lose hope. Why did he have to put up with this? Tino didn't know the answer. Why did he have to deal with this awful depression that never seemed to disappear?
Tino didn't know the answer to that either. The truth is that he didn't, there was a way out from the pain. But it wasn't one that he was willing to take. Death was something that seemed far too unreasonable to Tino, he knew that it would hurt people, therefore going against everything Tino stood for. Going against everything he and Berwald fought for, and Tino knew he couldn't do that to Berwald.
Despite the other voices in his head telling him otherwise, Tino knew that Berwald cared for him. He knew that he had friends, so he would continue to fight this aching feeling deep in his chest. He would hide the pain from the people he cared about, and he would try to do so successfully until h