[CW] In Memoriam

[Kurotsune]

I approach, not really sure how to start this conversation - if it can even be called that - and yet with aching need for it nonetheless.

"Well, hi." I speak in a hushed whisper under my breath. "It's been a while." I look around awkwardly, feeling a stab of shame even as I observe several others engaging in similar kinds of conversations around me.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm doing; I've no idea how to even start this!" I laugh, as if I had made a joke. No response; Not that I expected one, anyway.

"Things have... Changed, you know? Though in a way, they haven't at all. I'm still the same hot-headed fool I've always been, marching in crusades against foes far too big for me to take down in the name of my own twisted senses of morality and ethics.

That said, I guess they have changed, too - I've gotten promoted. Quite a few times, actually, since the last time we spoke. I'm no longer a bumbling intern trying to make ends meet and still save money to take their girlfriend into expensive trips they should in no way be able to afford; Well, I guess the only two things that have changed since then is that now I can afford them, and have no girlfriend to take.

Work's been pretty much the same, you know? Same people, same faces. Same tasks... It's starting to get boring. I often wondered how long this would keep my attention, anyway, and we both know I'm the type who whimsically discards anything that fails to catch my interest. I've been thinking of moving away. Getting a breath of fresh air... Maybe even leave the country, I don't know. I just feel like there isn't anything left for me here, though I've my doubts if there's anything left for me anywhere. There doesn't seem to have been since you."

I steel myself, speaking in small, ragged breaths. "Which I guess brings us to the main point. I miss you." I gaze deep, trying to find something I know not to be there. "I've missed you ever since. I don't know if I can continue living without you, and considering I already feel dead inside, I'm almost certain I can't. There hasn't been a day I haven't thought of ending it, of finishing this endless torment rather than trying to exist in the eye of the storm. Yet rationality wins out. I know we can't be together anymore, and likely never again. It's not fair to me to torture myself in this manner. It's not fair to you."

I smile, my oft-praised yet fragile composure shattered. I try to continue my speech, my sharp breathing akin to daggers in my throat, yet the tears roll freely at this point. "I just wish I knew what to do. How to fix what can't be fixed." Minutes pass, my words spoken half-slurred half-sobbed, almost unintelligible, and utterly meaningless. It's almost half an hour before I can breathe calmly again. It feels like more.

"I can't believe it's been seven years. It feels like just yesterday I saw your smile, and at the same time, it feels so far away. I'm afraid. I'm afraid of forgetting you, of soon not remembering the sweet contralto of your voice, how it strained humorously when you tried to sing, and so many little other details I cherish as if little pieces of you I keep within myself. I wish you were alive."

As I admit the fact, I stare at the gravestone for what it feels like ages. I stand, gathering myself, trying to regain as much of the tatters of my composure as I can before I depart. Wiping the tears off of my face, I throw back one last glance before I leave.

"See you next year."