"Toramaru's growing up."

I look up and see that Rugarai is standing beside me. His face is turned downwards, watching the young thirteen year old boy attack the mannequin set up for his practice in the yard. Rugarai's face is lined with worry and...something else. I can't comprehend.

"I wonder..." I say suddenly, then blush as I realize what I have almost said aloud.

He turns to me just as I turn away. "What?"

"I wonder..." Pause. "I wonder if he still...hates you...after what you did to Musami."

He shrugs and returns his gaze to the boy. "I don't really care."

"Do you?"

The question falls out of my lips. It has been five long years. Rugarai is already twenty years old but he might look older. His hair is pulled neatly behind him, his clothes signify his rank. I pull at my own limp silver hair. I have not combed it for days.

"It was just a promise," he whispers, scowling at the figure at the yard. "A stupid promise I cannot break. A mistake."

"You think...it's a mistake?" For the first time, I hear him say these to me. He has always been so silent...

He looks at me and I turn to him fully. I clasp my hands beneath my robes, waiting for him to go on. I am ready to listen to him, he has been silent for so long, for five long years about his hurts. No one has talked about each other's hurts, no one talked of the memories, although they continue to haunt us.

"It was a long time ago."

"Six years ago, Rugarai, you promised to take care of Toramaru."

"I promised to make him a blazing fire." His voice is sad. "I did not promise to make him this."

"Symone is dead."

He turns to me, eyes blazing suddenly and I involuntarily take a step back. No one has dared saying the name to him aloud for the past years. It has been too painful. He reaches out an arm and grabs my front robes.

"Never desecrate her name," he hisses.

I stare at him calmly. "I only say the truth."

And he lets go.

He turns to the boy's figure again. Toramaru is wiping the sweat off his brow and collecting his things to trudge back to the building. I give a small smile. "He is becoming a well samurai."

"Musami would have been proud of him, wouldn't she?"

Dead. Rugarai speaks only of the dead, not of the living. It is as if...he is already dead, too.

"I wonder..."

"You wonder too much."

I ignore his statement. "I wonder...if you can ever let go of the dead, Rugarai."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he shouts.

I do not turn to him. "I mean what I said," I reply, trying to stay calm. "I wonder if we will ever let go of the dead."

"Sizin--"

"Symone is dead. Musami is dead. Rojina is dead. Garer is dead and, dammit, Rugarai, I think you're already dead too!"

"Don't you feel dead?" he asks me a in a whisper, grabbing my arms as if for comfort. "Don't you wake up at night and think you're already gone from the world?"

I look down and find myself unable to lie. "Yes," I tell him shortly. "I do."

"Then why do we always return?"

His eyes...full of rage and tears and I cannot grasp him. He is too lost, and I cannot reach out to him anymore. Too far, he is too far.

"Rayla..."

"She's at her grave. I think she became a little insane, after her death," I tell him. I don't want to mention Symone's name again. Rayla has been visiting Symone's grave every day for the past five years. Rugarai knows of this, of course, but he never makes a comment about it. Then, not helping it, I continue: "Do you still hate her? Rayla?"

"No. Of course not."

But he continues to stare at me and I see the rage grow until his body shakes and I realize the truth. "You do hate her!" I say, suddenly falling into hysterics that I cannot understand. "You hate her and you deny it!"

"Sizin!"

"And you both still blame yourselves for Symone's death!" I begin to laugh loud. "Our great leader who conquered the Milky Way still pines for his dead ones! And all of us, the great followers of the legendary Thunder Jet still pine away as well! What a fitting end for a galaxy now threatened to die--"

"SHUT UP!"

A blast of pain explodes on my jaw and I find myself flying backwards, landing on the cemented roof with a dull thud. I let my eyes close and my body lie limply for a second before braving to open my eyes.

Rugarai continues to stand before me, an arm stretched with the fingers closed to a fist, breathing heavily. His eyes are wild but growing tamer by the second and he actually looks guilty. "Sizin-san--"

"You idiot!" I whisper fiercely before I grab him and pull him down towards me. Before he can react, I push him to the floor and kiss him.

He is too shocked to respond, and I forcefully open his mouth with mine, letting my tongue touch his. Taste my blood, damn you! You brought this to me, why should we suffer with you? Yet I have suffered for many years and will continue so.

Then, in a moment, he is pushing me away and I quickly roll over and stand. His hands are clenched again, white at the knuckles. His face is red as he breathes unevenly. I, too, begin to pant and feel a little dizzy.

He makes a move to punch me again but I evade it now.

"What the fuck was that for?!" he shouts.

"I wanted to see." I look down at my shoes. I am still dizzy.

"What?"

I swallow hard and taste the blood. I think I bit my tongue. "To see...if you were over her. Symone."

"I'M NOT!"

"I can see that all too well." I blink, trying to curse away the tears that befell into my eyes. I wish it is raining. "Rugarai...I...I'm sorry." I smile at the ground. "It seems we will continue to bury our dead, or so it seems."

He is silent.

I turn to walk away.

"Sizin."

I stop but do not turn. "Yes, Jet-sama?"

There is a small movement from him and from the corner of my eyes, I see him make his way to the edge of the roof once more. "Have--have a carriage ready."

Symone

"Yes, of course, Jet-sama."

I was never his friend. I will never again be his friend. He will only have his dead, and I will only have his memories. I will never forget.

Symone, will you ever forgive me for loving your husband? I never wished for your death, really. But I really love him.

It seems, I, too, am dead.