❣ Forelsket ❣ Keigo Takami/Hawks

[Book 2] ↬ "Do You Think I Can Reach the Stars?"

[A/N]: Making an effort to keep these gender-neutral now, and to miss out trigger words where possible, but that being said...

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Past Suicide Attempts, Suicide.

Light Manga Spoilers

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Atop this building, the echoes of a life fraught with pain married the voice that demanded a permanent silence. Your thoughts were far from temporary, existing in the day-to-day and littering your heart with scars. They were the authority, final and absolute. But their origins, although rooted deep within the past...they weren't the reason you were here. Their influence was limited, overshadowed by a darker reality - something that compelled you, an innocent, to such an extreme...something that murdered your mind, gave it acquiesce to sit upon this rooftop, while the rain cascaded around. 'Twas the death of your heart, your home, your love...The heavens had opened, as if hearing your call, your plea for ascension. You had a future there, whereas here, on this lonely Earth, you did not.

Over the last few years, you'd slowly begun to phase out what seemed of little importance. First: intimate contact with anyone, be it friend, relative, acquaintance or stranger. Second: contact in all its forms. Third: the way to shirk responsibility and all trains of thought - sleep. The circles under your eyes were becoming quite prominent. And finally: food. You couldn't bear to set the table for one, so you didn't set it at all.

"Do you think I can reach the stars?" Your words were but whispers, void of a sprightly edge. You whispered to Keigo, as you had on occasions past. "'If kisses were stars, I would give you the sky'. Who was it...who said that? Well...it's true. I would give you the sky, without rhyme or reason, or even question...if only the angels would allow."

Keigo was the only one to whom you resolved to speak. His presence lingered in the halls of your home, in your place of employment, and everywhere you ventured. If a breath of cold air was of particular fancy, then Keigo's memory was certain to join. You still spoke, still vented...still cried, all to him. In life, he'd given you everything - every small part of him, for safekeeping. In death, he stole away your heart and soul.

"Life was easier with you here." You sighed, repeating the words like a mantra, as if they were your last. "It was better."

Of course, that was something he'd know, regardless of circumstance. Whether in life, death or rebirth...Keigo would've known. Leaving you behind, leaving you lost and broken, wandering this plain until your angels granted the courage you so desperately needed...it hadn't been a conscious decision. You'd never doubt that. Never. Not in a million years. You'd understood the pressure he was under, the ever-mounting workload and that...that job. He'd made it clear that to refuse would be outrageous. You'd known he didn't have a choice. And you'd never blamed him. Not once.

A tear slipped down your cheek, ghosting across the newly-formed smile, which was gentle in character but woven from the silver threads of sorrow. "I've...I've tried this before. I'm sure you know. I've just...I've never wished to live without you. I've tried, but it's hard...and I'm so tired."

Tried you had, when neither blistering summer nor frigid winter could trouble your mind. It was focused, always. And on occasion, you'd been saved, rescued by a hero who knew little of life's torment, and nothing of that with which you were afflicted. You hoped they'd never know, never discover everything wrong with life. You'd been thankful to them, for chasing away the Reaper. But nothing lasts forever, and everything that exists within the clutch of nature must eventually wither. Only this time...you prayed that no-one would save you. Left to your own devices, the path you chose was right. It must've been.

It could be the cure for this poisonous mixture of pain, grief and lassitude. "Can you...come back to me?" Your tears fell in no uniform manner, but you hadn't the energy to wipe them. They couldn't be seen by another being, and only you felt their heartache on your tongue. "...You can't. I know you can't. Can you try?...Please? I just want you back. I just...want you home."

Then maybe...maybe I wouldn't have to do this. Maybe I wouldn't have to hurt my family and my friends...maybe I'd have a place in this world, again. Maybe I'd feel like I mattered, like I felt with you.

But even if you begged all those blinking stars, all the gods and the angels in Heaven...you knew it wouldn't make a difference. Fate was written, after all - predetermined...and any effort to change it had thus fallen flat. Keigo always joked about his history, but the enduring memories of abuse and neglect must have caused his heart inordinate distress. He shared those memories with you, of course, though never in too thorough detail. You were glad for it - a sad life story at the expense of his current happiness was a trade you weren't ever willing to make. No true lover would.

Your mind cycled through each stage of your life, from childhood's hour to your teenage years, to meeting Keigo, to almost marrying him, to...to losing him. The look in your eyes was so distant, as though you wished to be anywhere but here. Well...you would be, soon. Everything prior to this, every failed attempt...they weren't failures, per say. You just hadn't been ready.

But now you were.

Any moment now, at your mind's instruction, you would wander to the edge of this building, and then...you would fall. After years of trial, of anguish and isolation...you would finally be free.

"I don't want to forget that plan we had, the future we mapped out for ourselves. Please tell me you remember it. Please tell me we can act on it." You whispered up at the stars, straining for any hint of response.

None came, and none ever would. It would've taken a miracle, preferably administered by an angel, over a demon. But certainties were things best saved for story books, and those who charted fate. Your legacy lay beside you, and though not carried away by the wind, the rain had served to dampen it. 'Twas a small note, ripped from a page. On it, you had inked words which might once have been imbued with a potent despair, but which now betrayed not an ounce of emotion. The ink had dripped. It wasn't a first draft; you had written it many times over, getting shorter and more concise, until it simply read:

This is no-one's fault. There is nothing tethering me to this life, any longer. Please accept that, alongside my apology: I'm sorry.

And that time, when you smiled...it was the very last time. "I'm ready to fall. I'll meet you shortly, Keigo."

[Word Count: 1115]