~

Yesterday�I died.
Today�I will find love again.
Tomorrow�I�ll be happy.
But, yesterday�I died.

~

Every morning, I would stare at the empty pillow on the other side of the bed, noting the contours that he had not created. Noting the slight dent that his head had not made, and I would cry. Sometimes I would only tear up, and then move on. Sometimes I would call my grandmother and tell her I could not except a job that day, but I would always cry.

The morning light would give the white of the pillow case a strange sort of yellow hue, the shadows cast by the dent more of a blue, except for one dark spot near the bottom left corner. I never was able, with any amount of bleach to remove that one small bloodstain. The ruddy-brown tint of the spot, no larger than a small shirt button, consumed me. I couldn�t look away from it, and I don�t know that I wanted to. Every morning, the same thing. His blood. Not his indent. My sin.

Some nights, too, I would lie awake, staring at that pillow on the other side of the twin bed. The pillow would lifelessly hold my attention, innocently draining all of my will to live, and all I could do was stare at it. It was a pillow. No man should be overthrown by a pillow. His head never hit that pillow�not even once. I had no right to ask for such a thing, but the image was clear in my mind.

The moon would have reflected off the curves of his naturally tanned skin, darker in the areas around the hip bones and curves of the muscles in the arm. There would be a small dark pool of shadow by his collar bone, where it indented at the base of his neck. His lips would part very slightly in his sleep and he would murmur something innocent that no one would ever hear come from his lips in his waking hours. His hair, one shade lighter than black, would be tangled and sprawled across the pillow, but he would look strangely beautiful and peaceful lying there.

I shivered, some nights, thinking to myself about the feeling of his lips on my neck, or his hands on my skin. Small, wonderful sensations I was able to experience. I would muse to myself about how wonderful it would have been to feel his touch in another context. How wonderful it would be to feel the heat of his body against mine under the blankets. I would have reached out and dipped my fingers into the dark pools of his shadows over the dark tan of his skin.

Nothing but an image in my head, but I wished it real.

~

Yesterday�I cried.
Today�I will try to forget.
Tomorrow�all will be well again.
But, yesterday�I cried.

~

�In life and in death, he protected the ones he loved and the city in which he lived. His wish was only to love and to be loved. When it came down to it, I think he may have been the only one of us that understood anything at all. He wasn�t idealistic. He understood what he could and could not accomplish. He was a mentor to everyone whose life he touched, and a true friend to all those he trusted,� I brushed away my long bangs, putting a hand over my eyes. I was near tears, and I hadn�t known the man I was speaking of personally. But, to see into someone�s heart was always a life-shattering experience.

A man with his family, his daughter in her late teens, stood close together, holding each other through the sad ceremony. His wish had been granted. He was happy with his life.

An older man with a walking cane stood next to a woman in her mid-twenties. She held a small newborn child in her arms with a grip that showed that she didn�t want to loose the child as she had lost so many friends. They were happy together, though. Their wish had been granted.

A woman wearing a very professional-looking business suit stood next to her young daughter, holding the girl against her side with one arm. The girl�s expression was as serious as her mother�s, but her features were impish, childish, and held no hint of the sadness that her mother carried. The woman�s wish had not been granted, but she still had a reason to eat�a reason to live. So, she carried on.

A boy, in his early teens at most, nervously watched me. He had huge green eyes and medium length black hair. I could not remember his name, but I could tell that he was part of the family that occupied most of the room. In fact, he was the head of the family after the death of the 12th head and the death that brought us together on that day. He was a nervous child, really, and too young to know his real wish. But, I had faith that he would survive. He had learned from the best.

My wish was not granted. My real wish. I never wished for Kamui to die. For who I was, I had to wish for whatever the Earth wished for, but my real wish was for him to be happy. For him to be safe. Kamui was supposed to be the one who would live on and be happy.

�I can�t say that I knew him as well as some of you, but I do know that he was a caring individual that lost everything important to him, and lost the will to live. But, there will be someone to carry on in his place. He used the last decade of his life to pass along everything he had learned. Despite his true feelings, he did his best to continue life as before, and to not lose hope. For this, we must commend him.� I placed a hand over the casket, dropping there the white lilies I had brought with me for the service. �Sumeragi Subaru, you were the best friend I never had.�

~

Yesterday�you lied.
Today�it no longer matters.
Tomorrow�you�ll apologize.
But, yesterday�you lied.

~

And now I sit here on a new sort of bed. My head is resting on a pillow of his flowers, breathing in the fragrance so heavily associated with him, and a smile touches my lips. The tree releases magic into the air with a sudden burst of that scent, and I can feel everything around me breath. The trees, the people, the animals, everything breathes around me. For a moment I cannot separate my own heartbeat from the sound of the Earth quietly ticking away to her doom.

To be a dragon of the Earth� is to hear this sound?

Did he listen to it breathe? Could he still hear the living things breathe? People, humans, are also breathing things that deserve the chance to survive. They are not glass, as he would say. They too tick away to their own destruction, if one listens closely, but they, too, deserve to be saved.

It cried for him. Not in the way a lover would. Not in the way I did. But, it did cry for him. It cried out from the mountains to the sea and back, wailing pitifully for its lost master. I could hear it scream. The scream that mixed with the own horrible wailing in my head that proved to me what I had become. Why I could not go back to Kamui. Why I was no longer the man I had been when he was alive.

He lied to me. He said he didn�t love me. But, as he left, he told me the truth�the truth that everything I�d thought to be a lie was the truth. What I couldn�t see was that the lie was the lie itself. I know that now, but it won�t help me.

I spent so many years hating him for what he did�desiring his pretty little head on a plate for how he hurt me, but it wasn�t practical. So, I wanted him to kill me. I couldn�t have killed him, so why waste my time? If I had only known all that time that what I really needed was him. That was I was really chasing was him� if I had known that, things would be different.

�You never know what you have until it�s gone�, right?

~

Yesterday�I�d hide.
Today�I�ll be frank with you.
Tomorrow�we�ll work things out.
But, yesterday�I�d hide.

~

I don�t know how it came to pass that I was the one who found the note.

I walked into his apartment that morning, using the spare key he had given me. No, we weren�t lovers, but we had both agreed that we would be there for the other. Both of us had lost a lover�and by our hand. So, I went to the coffee pot, surprised it wasn�t brewing, and found a few sheets of paper organized loosely by the coffee maker and read over the cover sheet first. It was a poem, dedicated to Seishirou.

I didn�t read all of the note until after his funeral, but it was because I became obsessed with finding his body. I knew he wouldn�t actually commit suicide. I also knew where he would lay himself to rest. As promised, I found him with his arms wrapped lovingly around the sakura tree, looking as if he had drifted into a peaceful sleep.

He let the sakura take him. Then again, he was ready to go. He had nothing to live for and no will to live. Like me, only I still have a wish I need to fulfill.

I must protect the Earth, and I must continue to live without ever forgetting Kamui. This was his wish, and the final wish I was entrusted with granting.

I told him to aim for the heart� and he hit a bull�s-eye.

The one I love is dead� but I will live on with his memory close to my heart forever.

~

Yesterday aside�I love you.
Today�I will re-learn to love you.
Tomorrow�I will love you for who you are, not what you�ve done.
But, yesterday aside�I love you.

~

I climbed the stairs to my apartment one last time. I remember clearly how my boots echoed hollowly off the metal of the stairs. The stairwell filled with the sound of heavy footfall, like the sound of a wounded beat of a heavy heart. I don�t remember if I cried, then.

I fumbled with my key in the door, and entered, throwing my coat over the first convenient chair. For the first time in my life, I didn�t remove my shoes when I entered. I went to my bedroom, flopping on the bed I didn�t share with him, and looked at the indent in the pillow that someone else had made, and I didn�t cry this time.

I let my hand run over the bed where he had rested so peacefully. I could remember how his small frame dug into the feather mattress only slightly as though he weighed next to nothing. He really was delicate. I remember how his frighteningly pale skin looked like milk or cream poured over the dark gray sheets. How his dark hair, so black it was almost blue, sprayed over the pillow in its ever-messy state. I remember how his lips parted in his sleep, how the shadows looked on his bare skin, and how it was all wrong.

He left his coat draped over the chair. Like I did today. Only, it was dark against the stark white of my furniture. If I tried, I could still smell him on that coat. Every time I try, vivid memories spring to my mind of his beautiful face contorted in pleasure. It makes me wish I wasn�t so selfish. It makes me wish I had really loved him.

Maybe, in some part of my heart� the buried part of me that hasn�t already been completely claimed by others, I do love him.

There�s another dark coat, sitting by my bed. The bloodstains make the fabric stiff, rendering it impossible to wear, but I love it almost as well as its original owner. The empty coat sits on the empty chair where I would sometimes imagine I had seen him. Possibly, he was there, and was fooling me with an illusion, but I will never know.

I can�t ask anymore.

I never thought he would really love me. I never thought he would really leave me. I never thought I would have to live without him.

�When a person dies, is what they say really true?� I had asked him.

He didn�t have an answer for me. I want an answer.

Empty coats are hanging on empty chairs where my love life is supposed to be. So, I�ll hang my coat on an empty chair for all those who loved me.

And I�ll go find him and forgive him� I�ll tell him that I love him. Until then, Fuuma, you have to live on. For Kamui, for yourself, for the Earth, and for me. Prove to me this world was worth saving.

~ Sumeragi Subaru, 13th head of the Sumeragi estate, December 31st, 2009.

~

Yesterday�I died.
Today�I�ll find love again.
Tomorrow�I�ll be happy.
But, yesterday�I died.

~