He remembers. ||oisaku||

1

Sakusa Kiyoomi remembers.

He remembers all of the small things about his lover, like how he preferred peppermint tea in the mornings over his own daily black coffee. He remembers how his lover often stole his oversized sweaters and wore them, with the sleeves pooling at his lover's wrists.

He remembers the big things too, like how his lover always made sure to ask before touching Sakusa while he had a panic attack. The big things, like how they always went to an Italian restaurant for their anniversary, because it was Sakusa's favourite.

He remembers the warmth that is no longer there, a gift card he could no longer redeem, a safety that has been robbed of him.

He remembers the promise his lover made, the one that he broke, even if unintentionally. He remembers the day he found out. He remembers the funeral and the aftermath, the guttural scream that tore from his throat, the dirt that stained his black slacks. He remembers the way his cousin tried pulling him away, he remembers gripping the headstone that should've read "Sakusa," he remembers not eating for days at a time.

He remembers almost quitting volleyball, he remembers shutting everyone out, he remembers almost giving up entirely and joining his lover in his eternal rest.

He remembers the last words his lover said to him.

"I promise you, Kusa-kun, I'll be home soon. I promise I'll be home safe. Remember that I love you, anywhere and everywhere."

His lover didn't come home, at least not safe or alive. He came home weeks after he said he would, in a fucking casket and not in a tacky shirt. He came home and never whispered those words again.

He never got to hear those words, "I love you, anywhere and everywhere," again.

He didn't get to say goodbye.

Sakusa Kiyoomi remembers, and that is the worst pain of all.