Sunset Ghost

Epilogue

サンセットゴースト

Sunset Ghost

__________________________

エピローグ

__________________________

Breathing... I can hear it. But why does it sound so far away?

Hinata felt like he was floating on his back in water, but everything around him was pitch black, like his eyes were covered by thick fabric. He could feel himself slowly sinking, as if he were stuck in a batch of tar or molasses, but he could feel nothing.

It's dark here. Where am I?

His brain was fuzzy, like it was covered in a thick shroud of cotton. Thoughts were the only clear things in the indistinct darkness.

Wasn't I doing something before? Something important...

Snippets of sounds echoed out of the endless space around him and Hinata could feel a distant tug, as if someone were pulling on his arm, but it was faint and weak. Something wet splashed against his face over and over again, and he could hear a familiar voice, though he wasn't able to make out any of the words or recall the speaker's name, though he felt like he should know it well.

Who's crying? My chest hurts, like it's being crushed.

For some reason, Hinata's heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his rib cage. Everything hurt: not physically, but emotionally, almost like a panic attack. But why would he be panicking? Because he was... dying?

Am I really dying? But I don't want to go yet...

A thought lingered at the very back of his mind; something very important, though he couldn't seem to grasp it. Hinata knew he couldn't—didn't want to—die, but... wasn't he dead already? What was so important? What filled him with this crushing feeling of loss? What made him so desperately want to stay?

I don't want to leave him. I need to stay for... for...

_____________________ 

"Tobio!" Hinata woke suddenly with the name burning on his tongue, gasping for air with his shirt stuck to his sweaty chest like a second skin. For the longest moment, he sat there, swimming in anguish and overwhelmed by harsh emotions; hand still reaching out for the shadow of a memory that was slipping away. Kageyama... How could I forget him?

As his eyes marginally adjusted to the harsh sunlight streaming through the window and his wits slowly returned, Hinata buried his head in his hands and took several slow, shaky breaths in an attempt to quiet his racing heart. Those last few moments had been plaguing his dreams recently: The vestiges of his old life, when he'd died for the second and last time. He could still remember every detail about it: The days spent with Yachi and Kageyama in Madoka's shop, the constant scolding of the annoyed psychic, the sunsets, the wake-up calls, the exact shade of Kageyama's eyes: the end, the beginning—everything.

And sometimes, he wished he could forget it all.

Every time he remembered Kageyama's heart-wrenching expression when he'd opened his eyes for the last time and kissed him goodbye—said his name like it broke him—a small piece of his heart felt like it was being torn out, ripped from his chest with so much force, his body shattered like glass.

Tobio. His chest hurt unbearably even thinking his name—remembering the sound of his laugh, which was oddly beautiful—or the rare few times he had ever really smiled. It had been clumsy and a little awkward, but happiness had made his eyes shine like starlight. Hinata would give anything to see him wearing that cheerful, carefree expression again: to see him at all.