"I love you!" Sekirai blurted out suddenly.

Kisumi stopped, suddenly rigid. Taking short but loud breaths, he turned back to his friend whom he had just been talking to seconds ago. "What...did you say?"

Sekirai was staring down at his shoes, fingers clasped into a fidget and his long red belt that signified his rank was in his hands. He was frowning and was silent for a long time that Kisumi finally thought he had only imagined it. But he looked up again, still frowning. "I...think I do...at least."

"You what?"

"You didn't hear?" Obvious relief flooded in Sekirai's eyes.

Kisumi shook his head. "No. At least, I think I heard you say you love me."

"Oh." Sekirai fell silent. Then he shrugged. "Forget it."

"What did you say?" The sharp question echoed in the trees.

Sekirai scowled. "Forget it. It's not like..." Here, he shrugged again and turned away. "Just forget it."

"Sekirai!"

"WHAT?!"

Kisumi took one step forward. "Did...do you love me?"

"And what if I do?" Sekirai shrugged again and began to walk faster, away from him, back to the shadows that he was not.

Kisumi seethed.

~ * ~

"It was just..."

Kisumi stopped writing his letter. But he did not turn to his friend. His hand was poised over the paper, gripping the pen tightly, almost hurting. Behind him, by their twin beds only separated by a single table and nightlight run by batteries, was Sekirai.

His voice sounded wistful to Kisumi's ears. "It was just," he continued, "you were already walking away."

Kisumi blinked.

"I didn't want that."

Outside, a bird chirped. Kisumi continued to stare at the letter he was writing. His image was blurring. He couldn't understand it.

"I don't want you to walk away. I just needed something to make you stay." Sekirai laughed shortly. It was a dry laugh. "But I guess it didn't help. I was the one who walked away."

"What do you want from me?" Kisumi asked softly.

He heard a shuffling as Sekirai stood. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

"You're lying."

But Sekirai was already out the door.

~ * ~

It was three o'clock a.m. when the door burst open and light poured in the room, created by the dying bonfire outside. "Kisumi?" His voice was slurred.

Kisumi shot up from bed. "Jesus!" he exploded. "Just where the hell have you been?!"

Sekirai stood at the doorframe, blinking at his silhouette. "Damn if I know," he mumbled, taking swaying steps towards his own bed, which was farther to the door than Kisumi's. "Damn if I don't."

"You asshole!" Kisumi's voice barely contained his anger. He stepped out of the bed and caught the wobbling Sekirai. "You stupid, idiotic, brainless--"

"I getcher point," Sekirai told him, wincing when Kisumi laid him almost forcefully on the bed. "Aiko and Toji arg'd and--fuck, Kisumi, I'm alright!" he almost yelled aloud as Kisumi grabbed his shirt and ripped it open.

Kisumi glared at the dark spots on his white skin, then glared at Sekirai's face. He leaned over and switched on the nightlight. He was right. They were bruises forming. "Don't lie to me, Sekirai," he said through gritted teeth. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I was gonna tell you..." Sekirai's words were barely formed. It came out as:"I'z gontelyou." He shifted a little, making some motion to push Kisumi away. "I'z wit Aikouuu...Jus needed...somthin'..."

Kisumi opened the drawer under the nightlight, took some things, then slammed it shut once more. "Sector Fifteen was bombed today," he told him tersely.

"Donchou fuckin' tell me 'bout that!" Sekirai shouted. "I fuckin' 'ready know!"

"Is that where you were?"

Sekirai made another motion to push him away. "Shuddup! Shuddup!" he yelled frantically. Kisumi fought him, trying to make him stay put. Finally, Sekirai made a little whimpering sound and laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling and blinking owlishly.

"Is that where you were, Sekirai?" Kisumi asked again, looking for some bandages.

Sekirai was silent until he said, "He died."

Kisumi froze. "Who?"

"M'brother." Sekirai's voice was hushed and still slurring. "I'z 'ble to protect Sect'r Fif'n but m'brother was th're. He died, he fuckin' died and I din't ev'n getta hold him for the fuck'n last time--"

"Sekirai..."

"Go away, Kisumi." Sekirai's words were still mumbled, but they were horribly, horribly stilled. He whimpered again and turned to his side facing the wall. "Put the ointm'nts tomorrow an' go 'way."

Kisumi was silent for a moment. Then he stood, placing the first aid box on the table beside the nightstand and switched off the light. Sekirai was still. Almost as if he was dead.

He stepped back. "I can't go away, Sekirai," he told his sleeping friend. "Where will I go?"

~ * ~

"What did you need from Aiko?" Kisumi asked quietly.

Sekirai stared at the ceiling. The gash on his head, already treated when he had stumbled in to their little house the night before, was already dressed by Kisumi. He didn't appear startled when he heard Kisumi's words. "Nothing really."

"Sekirari..."

"I ain't gonna sleep on you again, Kisumi. Don't worry."

Kisumi turned from the desk and stared at the figure lying on the bed. "I don't worry about you sleeping in the middle of our conversation. You do that all the time."

Sekirai's head turned to him for a moment and gave him a small smile. "You get annoyed, that's for sure."

"Sekirai...what did you need from Aiko?"

The flame-wielder was silent for a moment. "Drink. Fight. Release."

"You had sex with him, didn't you?"

Sekirai sat up so suddenly that Kisumi looked surprised. The red-head glared at him. "I don't think that's any of your business," he told the other coldly.

"You did," Kisumi concluded, turning back to his letter.

"Who the hell cares?"

Kisumi stared down at the words, penned letters to his friends, family, lover... "I care," he murmured. His vision blurred again, like the last time. He still couldn't understand.

~ * ~

"I'm not gonna tell you when to run your life, you know," Aiko told Kisumi solemnly.

Kisumi glared at him. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't cuss in front of a kid," Fusuke said, but his eyes were trained on the fish Aiko caught.

Shiha looked around purposefully. "I don't see a kid here, do you?"

Fusuke glared at him before returning his gaze to Aiko's fish.

"Listen, Kisumi," Aiko went on, "you're my best friend. I know you. Who the hell are you trying to fool?"

"What do you mean?" Kisumi's voice sounded sharp, even to his own ears.

"I'm talking about Sekirai, man."

"What about him?"

Shiha blinked. "Look, if you're gonna have this little heart-to-heart, I think I should take Fusuke away from here--"

"I'm not a kid," Fusuke told him flatly. "Your little sexual activities on camp is something I'm blissfully aware of."

"Jesus, this kid is talking like he's not a fucking six year old," Shiha muttered.

They were silent for a moment. All eyes were trained on Fusuke. Finally, the boy rolled his eyes. "Fine," he snapped. "I'm going!" He jumped on Aiko's shoulder, grabbed the stick of fish, then back-flipped to the ground before he set off running.

Shiha stood up abruptly. "Hey!" he shouted. "Aren't you even gonna share that?!" He, too, disappeared into the forest.

Kisumi glared at the fire in front of him, wishing he could somehow put it off. It reminded him of red. Red hair... "What about Sekirai?"

"He's fucking in love with you."

"I don't," Kisumi replied flatly, "love him. And he knows that." He shrugged. "Besides, there's nothing I can do about it."

"I'm not catching you." Aiko blinked when Kisumi handed him an envelope, accented by a faint perfume. "Where'd this come from?"

"Miyuki." The voice was a small sigh.

Aiko brought out the letter and read it. The envelope fluttered to the ground as he gripped the stationary tightly. "She accepted what?" he asked.

"I asked her to marry me," Kisumi replied simply.

~ * ~

Kisumi opened his eyes to find Aiko glaring down at him and his own jaw swelling. "What did you do that for?!" he yelled.

"You spineless coward!" Aiko howled. "You asked her to marry you just so you can escape Sekirai?!"

Shaking with anger, Kisumi sat up and placed a hand on his swollen jaw. It hurt to talk much. "Nobody understands," he said angrily. "Nobody understands how much I love Miyuki."

Aiko's fists were clenched. He was breathing hard.

"What?" Kisumi went on. "Is it so hard to believe that I can actually love Miyuki? Is it so hard to believe that I don't love Sekirai?"

Aiko produced his fist again, but this time, Kisumi was ready for it. He caught it effortlessly and twisted the wrist of his friend slightly. Aiko gasped. Kisumi leaned forward. "I'm not a coward," he told him quietly. He was angry. Very angry. "Perhaps you've never loved. Not as much as I love her. You don't understand. You just think..."

He stopped, then swallowed the lump on his throat. He really couldn't understand why he wanted to cry. "...just think that I can only love Sekirai because he loves me. Well you're wrong. I love Miyuki. I've loved her since I was a child, since I first saw her. And don't you fucking tell me otherwise because you're not me!"

He let go of Aiko's fist and stepped away. For the first time, he only stared with impassionate gaze at his friend's figure, clutching his wrist and glaring at him.

"What do you know about love, anyway?" Kisumi asked him. Then, he turned on his heels and left.

~ * ~

He found Sekirai sitting on the bed, sleeping. Beside him sat an open duffel bag, half-filled with clothing. Other clothing sat outside it and one was in Sekirai's hands, as if he was going to put in the shirt but fell asleep in the middle of the act.

A little amused, but also overtly curious, he shook his friend's shoulder. "Sekirai. Wake up."

Sekirai's eyes opened sleepily. "Huh?" he sighed. "Is it already morning?"

"You fell asleep, knucklehead. Sitting down."

"Ohh..." Sekirai's eyes closed again and he moved to lie down. "Wake me in the morning..." He gave another sigh.

Kisumi growled. The young man had a particular fondness for falling asleep in the middle of everything! "Sekirai!" He shook him harder. "I think you were doing something!"

The other man's eyes opened again, and stayed open. That was important for Kisumi. He sat up and looked around. "Oh." He blinked again and rubbed his eyes. "Damn. Gotta finish this before morning." He looked up. "What?"

"Where're you going?"

Sekirai shrugged and he grinned. "Moving out tomorrow with Sub-Corps 5. It seems the Empire Army's making the next move, making this an official declaration of war."

"So."

Sekirai put in another set of clothes and nodded, not looking up at him. "Uh-hn. I'm leaving. Tomorrow."

Kisumi nodded. He sat down by his bed and removed his shirt, then laid himself on the mattress. He faced the wall, watching the moving shadow of his friend as Sekirai continued to pack. His vision was blurring. Why?

"Miyuki accepted," he found himself saying.

He saw the shadow pause in the act of putting clothing in the bag. "Hm. You proposed?"

"Yes."

"You're a lucky man. She's a lucky woman. I'm happy for you. When's the wedding?"

"Haven't decided yet." Kisumi clutched his pillow. "Aiko knows."

He heard Sekirai chuckle. "He should. He is your best friend, after all."

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

Kisumi squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't love you."

There was an incredible moment of silence, a painful pause. Then, came Sekirai's answer, a soft, "I know. Don't worry."

Their conversation lapsed after that. Shortly, Sekirai went to bed himself, turning off the lamplight and letting the darkness engulf their little room. Kisumi kept his eyes shut. The light, suddenly gone, brought dots in the middle of his darkness. He still couldn't understand.

~ * ~

The next day, when Kisumi awoke, Sekirai was already gone. He heard from a sub-captain that they had already moved out earlier.

"It's gonna be quieter here, I guess," Fusuke said. He was lying on the bed that Sekirai had occupied.

Kisumi, sitting by the desk and twiddling his pen, nodded as he stared out the window. "No more ramblings, no more fights."

"Hey, Toji and Aiko are still here. They'll get into each other's throats one way or another." Fusuke gave a pause before continuing, "He told me to tell you to take care."

"Who?"

"You know who."

Silence again. Then, Kisumi smiled quietly. "Yeah, I guess I do."

Fusuke began to play with the lamplight. Kisumi sighed, looked down at his paper and began to write his letter.