Trigger Warnings: Mention of Death, Depression.
Immortality - the reality of your life, but hardly grandiose. It slowly became more akin to a curse. The disillusion presented itself, drenched in both fury and sorrow, when you watched your first lover die. 'Cardiac Arrest', they said. 'For no-one's sake but your own, you must move on', they said. But between the rush of blood howling in your ears, and the untamed stream of tears dripping down your cheeks, you hadn't heard them. Had you even wished to? Perhaps it all just pained you so, that the ignorance had been subconscious, yet...somehow still intentional? You couldn't bear to hurt, or simply to feel...even think! So maybe you had shut out the help, the advice, because it was much easier to pretend - pretend that your soulmate, the one with whom you could have happily shared the universe, had breathed his very last.
Death wasn't uncommon, and even to the end, he hadn't feared it. The icy grip coiled around his neck, choking any remaining semblance of life. And for a fleeting moment, you thought you saw the marks. Five fingers. Five stages of grief. You succumbed to despair in a hasty fashion, but you were never able to accept.
You couldn't let go; you refused to lose his memory. So, for a heart-breaking while, you continued as per routine - cooking meals for two, fluffing up both sets of pillows in the evening, making one-sided small talk, or pursuing even deeper conversations about love and marriage. You would recite your dreams (night terrors, to be more accurate), tell him that you worried for his safety, lovingly whisper "goodbye" and "welcome home" as his work schedule dictated. You still included him in debates concerning your favourite shows. You still let him know that you would always, always give him the world. You still rubbed your stomach, wondering how the future would look.
You pushed everyone aside, until no-one was in your corner. No-one except him. No-one except a ghost, a shadow looming over your shoulder, a gentle endearment on the wind. It was merely survival.
And then...deep-seated anger started to fester. Why? Why had he deemed it necessary to leave? And when would he return? Had his love ever been genuine, or just a forgery? Why did he go? Where did he go? And why...why wasn't he saved? Someone should have saved him, right? Right...? A doctor, a hero? Someone?...Anyone?!
"I should never have given you my heart."
Bargaining followed shortly thereafter, and then depression, which lingered.
It lingered...and it pierced. Your heart was the victim, and your veins the conduits, transporting the blades. They stabbed and they splintered. It was physical, emotional, mental agony. You remembered every small detail, intricately. You never let a single thing escape your mind. From those adorably pointy, elf-like ears, to the shyness you found sad yet so endearing...you vowed never to forget anything. You couldn't move on. You couldn't reclaim your life. Perhaps he had taken your soul as a companion, and it now lay beside him, buried beneath the earth.
"All I ever asked for was a lifetime with you."
And a lifetime you may yet receive. You contemplated many...sacrilegious things whilst in the throes of despair and depression, and for not acting upon them, a reward was surely deserved? The universe listened to your plight, sometimes silent, sometimes violent, and decided that the torment was far too severe. Despite the immortality, your soul was young, and your heart pure. Your frustrations originated from loss. You weren't angry with the world. You were angry with quirks, with doctors and heroes, and with your own life.
But, a new era would herald change.
It would herald the reunion of two long-lost lovers, of a girl who scorned the very fabric of society for failing her dearest, and a boy consumed by anxiety.
It began, strangely enough, with the 3rd Year UA Sports Festival. It was by chance that you happened upon the coverage. You half-watched, noting the quirks as mediocre, uninteresting. The heroics students seemed to lead almost immediately, or so the commentator announced. You didn't really know, or care. To you, it was nothing but background noise. There was an untouched cup of coffee on the table, growing colder by the minute. You could have reached it...maybe. You didn't want to try. It wouldn't have been kind to your tongue.
Just as you sighed, the man behind the microphone yelled, "...And that's Tamaki Amajiki of Class 3-A! It seems he's...falling back? He was a favourite to win, this year. Maybe the pressure is catching up with him?"
It was far from a familiar name, and as the painful years had dulled your eyes, which once sparkled with passion and curiosity, you were slow to notice...perhaps even hesitant. But when you did...it felt as though the hourglass-sand had frozen mid-drain. The rhythm of your heart gradually became more and more erratic, until you keeled over, clutching your chest. It was...fear, maybe? Disbelief? The memories of your time together, and of the time separated by a torturous death...everything crowded your mind in an instant. You stayed a woman of your word, never once forgetting him. But now...all the good, all the bad...they merged, and...you weren't sure how you were supposed to feel. How were you meant to react? This boy...this UA student, an aspiring hero...was he truly...?
Since when had the doctrine of reincarnation been anything but speculative...a concept created by religion, by people like you...people who just couldn't let go...?
But...your eyes certainly weren't deceptive. In all his elven glory, this boy...he was (M/n). Right...? He had to be! The similarities...they were uncanny. Those pointed ears, the ones you used to delight in teasing with both finger and tongue...the way he worried, about himself and others (this was shown as he helped another student during the obstacle race)...
Obviously, you didn't recognise the whole - just parts. But...once you calmed enough to judge with rationality, you were certain. Tamaki Amajiki...he was (M/n). It could hardly be explained - the fierce connection you felt, even through the screen. The devotion that still ignited your heart...and eventually, the joyful tears that spilled forth from your eyes. You never, ever expected this. It was...unheard of, surely? Still, it was reality - your reality. In that moment, you desired simply to break down the door of that arena and snatch up your beloved. You wanted to talk, you wanted to scream, to cry, to hug and kiss him...
He...he probably wouldn't appreciate a stranger doing such things, however. As a reincarnation, not the original...a copy, who looked similar, but not identical...he wouldn't have his former memories. He wouldn't know you. He might not experience that spark, the overwhelming confusion, the happiness...
And, what if he had...already found someone? Someone to cherish, to love and support? Someone whose curse wasn't perennial life? That would definitely be the final nail in the coffin. If he was spoken for, or you met and he felt nothing besides discomfort...then, and only then, would you give up. For this boy - he was Tamaki now, not (M/n) - you were willing to risk it all.
Finally, finally...you would accept (M/n)'s untimely fate. Tamaki was yours, he was (M/n) - you acknowledged this, with all your heart. But...he was allowed to be himself. Just...Tamaki. He was the same, yet completely different.
Well...perhaps your long-lost love wasn't quite so lost, after all.
