we aren't anything. @suosteacup - Tumblr Blog

Relationship: Sakura Haruka x Reader Content Tags: HEAVY ANGST, Post-Canon, Epistolary, Intentional Yobisute, Grief, Mourning, Depictions of depression, Hurt/No Comfort (depending on your definition of comfort), Profanity (to no one's surprise), An overwhelming amount of love Summary: All it took was a single phone call for your world to come crashing down. Following the advice of your grief counselor, you find another way to talk to Haruka again. What is grief if not love with nowhere to go? Word Count: 7k

A/N: Fuck???? I've been toying with the idea of writing an epistolary where the writer has been told to write letters to their deceased partner as a way to process their grief for a while now. I intended it to be for a completely different fandom but between my WBK obsession, a conversation ft. the morbidity and romance of camellias with Mao, and the slightest bit of enthusiastic if not misguided encouragement from @megapteraurelia, this somehow came into existence. Unfortunately.

This is deeply personal and features a lot of my own musings and frustrations on grief as I've been struggling with it. To write this, it felt like I had to carve myself open and so this has turned into something cathartic for me. Know that I wrote this with a tremendous amount of love.

Very, very special thank you to everyone who let me sob about this fic for the last year.

Edit: I do recommend only reading this if you can handle death-related angst and are in a good headspace.

Dear Haruka,

Dr. Yamaka said this would be a good way to express everything that goes unsaid to you. Don’t know if I really believe her, but when she told me, I swear I heard you beside me. You huffed and puffed and said something about how you didn’t possibly see how it could be useful and it made me laugh a little. She looked at me like I was a little crazy, but I believe I have earned a pass, given everything.

When I got home, I didn’t think I was going to do it. Thought it was stupid and pointless because where are these going to go? Am I going to keep them tied up in a special “Letters to Haruka” drawer in the kitchen? Am I going to burn them? Who will receive them?

But then I realized that even if you told her that you thought they were stupid, you’d probably come home and do them anyway because that’s just you. When someone offers you a solution that may help, you try it out before dismissing it. And knowing you’d do it anyway made me feel… I don’t know. Like I should follow your lead. Which is stupid because you’re not here and you’re not doing it and I’ll never know for certain whether you would do this, but it makes me feel a little closer to you.

That being said, I don’t know what to write. No idea what to say. I don’t have much more energy to keep writing, so I think I’ll end it here. Guess we’ll find out if I keep this up.

Miss you.

Dear Haruka,

I know what you’re going to say.

“It’s been too long between letters. You went through all that trouble to make sure you could even be seen by Dr. Yamaka and so it’s stupid to not follow her recommendations. It’s pointless to have gone through all that effort to ignore what she thinks will help.”

I know.

Honestly, I tried doing this. Writing you letters. Each time, my pen would meet the paper and I would write your name and my mind would go blank before my hand would seize up. Words no longer came to me, on the page or otherwise. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you—we both fucking know how much I want to talk to you.

It’s just… What do I say? What can I say?

I can talk about how Umemiya-san’s community garden is thriving and how he had Natsuki-chan trying to convince me to visit. Something about how bringing something to life with my own hands would be good for me. (How could I tell them that I can’t go because the children will ask about you and I don’t want to cry in front of them?)

I can talk about how Nirei-kun eats lunch with me almost every day. He leaves school to come to the house. Tried telling him you’d yell at him for doing that, but he told me that you’d yell at him for leaving me alone, so that went nowhere. I’m actually writing this because we talked about you today and he thought I should try again.

I can talk about how Tsubaki-chan keeps trying to get me to go out. Even told me we could find new places to go, that he’d find a new pub to dance at if only so I would visit more often.

I can talk about how Suo-kun stopped smiling and stopped telling his jokes. Kotoha-chan has ruined every single order of omurice she has received. Tsugeura-kun had to take the season off, something that New Japan is not happy about. I don’t know if Kiryuu-chan is aware that he hasn’t changed his hair in months. Momijikawa-kun is working overtime at the shop. No one’s seen Sugishita-kun in a while.

I can talk about all of it, but what difference does it make? What good does it do? You’re…

You can’t read any of what I have to say, so me giving you updates on everyone else is fucking pointless. It just makes the absence of you ache all the more.

I miss you so much.

Come back to me.

Dear Haruka,

Do you remember our first date?

You were so nervous. Completely red and could hardly get a word out, but you took my hand and didn’t let go. It was so clammy and awkward, but so authentically you that I think I knew then. It’s silly, I know, but I was already so far gone for you.

All that time you spent worrying about our relationship and how to make it work and stuff, meanwhile I was hopelessly in love with you the entire time. You didn’t know it, but you were stuck with me. I just wish that you… stuck with me.

The reason I was thinking about it was because I walked the same path in the park that we once did. The weather was the same and for a moment I could almost see you beside me. I saw you and your blush and heard you trip over your words and

I don’t think I have ever made a bigger fool of myself in public.

Fell to my knees and started bawling like a child. People stared at me like I lost my head, but fuck them. I was lucky that Sugishita-kun and Momijikawa-kun were walking through the park at the same time because I doubt I would have been able to make it home without them.

You might be surprised by how hard Sugishita-kun’s taking it. I’ve never seen him like this, but he and I were never the closest. When I invited them both inside for tea, Momijikawa-kun had to convince him a little to stay. We didn’t speak much, but simply having him in our home kept me from collapsing again because it was such a sight. You probably would have gotten a kick out of it if you saw.

Wishing I could hold your hand for the first time again.

Dear Haruka,

I can’t sleep.

When I close my eyes and sleep finds me, I see you. You’re waiting for me with open arms. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, I can feel your warmth and hear your heartbeat. It isn’t excited as it used to be, but calm like it was whenever I would wake up with you holding me. In my dreams, I can still feel the calluses on your hand and I can still smell you. But then my heart starts to ache and the force of it wakes me and my arms are wrapped around nothing.

There are days when I wake to an empty bed but my heart feels light and for the first couple minutes of the day, I forget that you’re gone. In those moments, you’ve simply woken before me. You’re on a walk in the neighborhood or talking to someone outside. You’re alive and well. And then I remember that you’re not, that you’re gone and I am alone in the wake of the life we built together and it devastates me.

The blankets don’t hold your scent anymore. Your pillow lost the indent of your head a while ago. The bed is too large without you in it and my heart breaks each time I am confronted with that fact.

I can’t sleep because I am afraid of seeing you. I can’t sleep because I am afraid to wake up without you.

You’re not here and each time I have to say goodbye to you in that dream it’s like receiving that phone call all over again.

I can’t sleep and you would be so upset at being the cause and I’m so sorry, but I can’t.

I miss you more than I think I know.

Dear Haruka,

The camellias are blooming again.

Did I ever tell you that I planted them because they were the first flower you gave me?

Don’t know if you remember, but you asked me if it had a meaning. You remembered that Suo-kun had once said that flowers have a language of their own, but you chose it because you thought it looked nice. Reminded you of me, you told me. Since you were giving it to me, I told you that red camellias mean that I was a flame in your heart.

I didn’t lie. That is what they mean.

But what I didn’t tell you is that they’re also tied to death. Instead of wilting like most flowers, camellias behead themselves. Quite morbid for flowers. Didn’t say anything because I knew you would overthink everything if I did. It didn’t matter to me that they’re associated with death because that’s not what you meant when you gave them to me. You were trying to show your love for me and I didn’t want to ruin that.

But now I look at them and wonder whether it was an omen. Or a curse. Did I doom us by not telling you? By robbing you of the opportunity to choose a different flower like you surely would have?

Farmers used to see camellias as unlucky because they reminded them of decapitations. The samurai used to look at them and hope they guaranteed quick deaths for their adversaries. I suppose it’s a small mercy that your death was also…

Wish you were here so you could tell me I was being stupid for worrying over this shit. I suppose it’s lucky that you don’t subscribe to these kinds of superstitions, but you’re not here anymore so it’ll always haunt me.

Missing you more with each passing day.

Dear Haruka,

I think you’d be glad for Kotoha-chan, Suo-kun, and Nirei-kun. You already were, but…

I’m sorry. I didn’t even notice that I wasn’t eating. It took them sitting down with me to realize it, but each time I enter our kitchen, I…

Food stopped tasting like anything. I can’t share it with you anymore. Don’t know when it happened, but half of the experience of eating was simply sharing it with you, and without you… our kitchen is empty. Everything has the same, bland taste. I don’t find enjoyment in it anymore and so I stopped seeking it out unless my body yelled at me for not eating.

And I feel so ashamed. You would be so hurt. I should be taking better care of myself for you. I just… How do I even conceptualize making a proper meal for myself if you’re not here to share it with me? I don’t know how to cook for one. I’ve only ever made food with the intent to share it.

Kotoha-chan threatened to tell Umemiya-san but I think Nirei-kun had her beat. Out of nowhere, Umemiya-san’s been rallying for some kind of party. You know, like the ones he used to throw on the Furin rooftop? He hasn’t done that since, well. At least not the ones where he insists I be there, which he is now.

Momijikawa-kun might have been there when Kotoha-chan made a fuss because he’s also asking me to come by his apartment just to eat.

But… I’ll try to do better. For you, at least. I know you’d want that.

Wish you were here to join us this weekend.

Dear Haruka,

Today’s our anniversary. We would have been together for thirteen years. Can you believe it?

I was going to surprise you with a trip to the aquarium in Osaka. The look on your face the last time we went to the aquarium was full of such wonder and joy that I wanted us to go more often, but then work and life got in the way. I used to love going to the aquarium—mom and I would go all the time—but since you’re gone, I can’t stand the thought of going without you.

So I sit in our home on our anniversary, alone and no less in love, afraid to look through our photo albums together because I am haunted by our memories without needing to look at them. I see you everywhere, hear you everywhere, but feel you nowhere. And I both love and hate it because it’s proof that you were here and that I loved you so much that you have been so thoroughly imprinted into my existence for me to recall you so clearly, even when you’re not here.

But if you were worried about me staying home alone tonight, which… you aren’t because you aren’t anything, you needn’t. Nirei-kun remembered what today was (of course he did) and so he, Suo-kun, and Kotoha-chan are coming over. They wanted to take me out to dinner but I don’t think I have the energy for something like that.

I feel like a bad friend for desperately wishing that it were you I was having dinner with tonight instead, but it’s true. At least with you, I don’t have to lie about that.

Wishing we had more than twelve years together.

Wishing I had known you sooner.

Dear Haruka,

Tsubaki-chan was helping me tidy the house like he used to do for Ito-san and we came across your guitar. It made me realize that I haven’t listened to music on my own since you died. And it breaks my heart.

After you told me you didn’t really listen to music way back when, even before we started dating, I made it a point to listen to music with you every single day. There had to be something you liked and I was determined to find it. Imagine my surprise when we discovered that you loved so much.

And when I found out you played guitar? I didn’t think it was possible to find you more attractive than I already did, but then again, you always were fantastic at surprising me and proving me wrong in that regard.

I miss sitting together while you played. Miss singing with you, no matter how off-key. Miss listening to music with you.

I miss… you.

I hope when I find my voice again, you’ll be there to listen.

Dear Haruka,

I remember it so clearly.

That cold hadn’t left yet, so I was sleeping in after I called into the shop. You left early to pick up more medicine. Tried giving me a kiss goodbye and I told you that I didn’t want to get you sick, so you gave me a kiss on my forehead instead. You messaged me around ten, saying you were going to pick up egg congee from Pothos and that was the last I heard from you. Kotoha-chan called me to ask where you were just before the hospital called.

I remember the feeling of my heart collapsing, of my world coming down. It felt as though time itself ceased to exist, as though all air was sucked from my lungs, my heart made of lead, turning me to glass and shattering me as it fell through the floor. The sound I made—Misaki-san came running over with emergency services on the line because she thought I hurt myself. I couldn’t tell her that it wasn’t me.

I remember it all so clearly, even if everything that came afterward was such a blur.

It can’t already be a year, can it? It can’t only be a year? Every day spent without you here stretches on indefinitely, each second dragging on in such a way that makes me doubt all the times I ever complained about time moving slowly before. Every day without you is absolute agony. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough.

Everyone’s gathering for you tonight. I’m expected to be there.

Sometimes it feels like they want to grieve through me even though they all had their own relationships with you. I’m expected to act a certain way, to handle things with a certain grace, but it takes all of my energy to pretend to be human for a day, much less perform in such a way that’s appropriate. I don’t want to have to perform.

. . .

You must linger nearby because I heard you so clearly. You said that I don’t have to perform for anyone and that I should handle things the way I want to handle them, fuck everyone else.

You’re right, of course. I just wish you were actually here to tell me that.

I wish I didn’t have to mourn you.

Come home to me and give me that goodbye kiss I denied you.

Dear Haruka,

Did you visit me last night? It felt as though you did. Your side of the bed was warm and I swear it smelled like you when you’d be fresh from the shower.

In my dream, you felt so real. We went on a walk around the neighborhood before heading home. My hand remembers the weight of your palm in mine, the press of your calluses and the grip of your fingers. You brought my hand to your lips and my skin remembers the familiar press of your chapped lips. (You even made the face at me when I asked if you wanted my balm).

Can’t remember how the conversation started, but you told me that you always knew I was going to be someone important in your life. Told me it scared you, but you chased after that feeling because you didn’t want to let me slip through your fingers. Was that true? Or was that just a conjuration of my imagination? Were you actually the romantic in our relationship?

Then we talked about the dog we never got. This time, however, you were trying to talk me into it. Even pulled up the shelter website on your phone to show me the dogs that are waiting for a new home. When I asked what happened to wanting a cat, you said that I needed a dog more than I needed a cat. Something that would force me to get out of the house, would require me to “get the fuck up.” And it sounded like you. It really did. Dream-you made all the same arguments that you’d probably make.

We got to the house and you said you couldn’t follow me inside, that you had to go somewhere else and when I started to argue, you grabbed my hand. It might simply be my imagination, but I swear my knuckles are still warmed by your kiss.

I… checked the website and all the dogs are the same as they were in the dream. I have an appointment to see the dog that you pointed out. If it was even you. (I can hope.)

I’m haunted by the look in your eyes when I had to say goodbye… I only wish I had the chance to do that in real life.

Wishing and hoping and praying that I see you again tonight. Now that I’m reminded of the feeling of your touch, how can I possibly hope to live without it again?

Dear Haruka,

I need to hear your voice. Need you to tell me I’m not weak.

Because I’m afraid. I’m terrified of everything.

The phone rings and all I can think is that someone else has been in an accident. Cars move too fast on busy streets and my blood runs cold. I don’t even want to get into them, not as a passenger or as a driver.

Which feels dumb because I wasn’t even there. Never saw it. It’s been a year and I still haven’t returned to those streets. Which fucking sucks! Our favorite places to eat were there! Sometimes Suo-kun or Kotoha-chan offer to bring me take-out but what’s the difference when I can’t taste anything anyway? Those are our places, for you and me. As much as I miss the food, some part of me feels like it’s an appropriate loss. That chapter of my life is closed now, you know?

Now this next chapter is just… fear. Being paralyzed with it until my heart hurts. But it’s not like that’s anything new, my heart hurting. Not since it burned alongside you in the cremation chamber.

I feel pathetic and weak and rationally I know that I shouldn’t be afraid, but… I don’t know. Maybe I’m just broken now. And that’s a horrifying thought, too.

What scares me the most is that… I think I’m starting to forget what you looked like. It takes effort to remember the shape of your eyes and the line of your nose. The color of your eyes when the sun hit it just right. The way your blush would color your skin, how it would spread. The press of your smile into your cheeks. The photo albums don’t do you justice because they fail to capture what it was like to have you in front of me. My fingers struggle to recall the feel of your skin beneath them. In my memories, I don’t think I see you so much as… love. I know it’s you because you are the shape of love to me.

It’s a silly thing to be afraid of because what a blessing it was to have loved and been loved by you so thoroughly that you are the epitome of love, but I am afraid.

Wish you were here to tell me I’m being stupid. Wish I could commit you to memory again.

Dear Haruka,

I’m so angry.

At everything. At everyone. My temper is short and I’m constantly finding myself ready to snap at anyone who so much as looks at me. But you know what? It feels productive. Things are getting done now. I can make appointments easily and find the language necessary to deal with unpleasant people and I can push through work. For the first time since you left, I feel productive.

But I know it’s poison. No one is deserving of my ire and I still have enough self-awareness to keep myself from actually snapping at them. All that means is my anger has nowhere to go but inward. It sits in my heart, turning it into a black hole of rage and grief and it feels rancid.

The other day I was talking with Kotoha-chan when I was walking the dog and we started reminiscing. She told me about when you first came to town and the anger that you met her with and I have to wonder—is this how you used to live? Was the anger you felt grief for everything that you were robbed of? For the love you wanted but were denied?

Don’t know why I’m asking. Don’t know if knowing the answer would change anything.

After, I ran into Momijikawa-kun and he looked at me like he knew how angry I was. Didn’t say anything of the sort, but I could just tell, you know? Asked me if he could sometimes join me and Aki on our walks, but I think he just wants to help.

I don’t know. Think I’ll let him if only to make up for not going over as much as I said I would.

Wishing you could answer the questions I have to ask you.

Dear Haruka,

Has sleep always been something to dread? The dreams? Are they still dreams, or do they qualify as nightmares?

If not for Aki, I don’t know if I would have woken up.

In my slumber, you and I were together again. I say this as if it’s any other way, as if I dream of anything other than you. But we were walking together for the natsu matsuri in Hiragahara. It was nice, going again. Knew it was a dream the second you won that first game. You always struggled with them, even when I told you I didn’t actually need the prize.

And then it grew crowded like it does, except this crowd felt more like a sea. You let go for just a second, sure I was right behind you, but in that second we were separated with half a dozen bodies between us. I called out to you and you tried to return, but the more we struggled, the further apart we grew. More and more people came and filled the streets until it was hard to hear your voice and the way you called out to me. I called out for you so much that I woke with a sore throat.

It almost felt as though we were trapped between two opposing currents, dragging us away from each other when all we wanted to do was reunite.

I don’t know how I heard you when I couldn’t even see your mouth moving, but you promised you would return to me no matter what. Don’t know if you heard me since I could hardly hear myself, but I told you it’d be easier for me to come to you.

I really, really hate how true that is.

I’m going to speak with Dr. Wada about whether there’s a sleep aid that doesn’t make dreams worse because I don’t know if I can keep doing this.

At least I got to hear your voice again.

Dear Haruka,

It’s been a while since I wrote to you, but your birthday is nearing and I want to talk with you.

Believe it or not, I’m doing better. Feel like I’m starting to make progress on my own a bit.

Last time I wrote to you, the camellias were just starting to bloom. I’ve been spending more time with Momijikawa-kun and he told me his story. It was the first time in a while that I felt seen. Like I didn’t need to pretend to be anything that I’m not. That alone helped me feel less angry, less afraid. He joins me and Aki when we walk through the neighborhood in the evenings. Aside from that, we’ve been going to the local food pantry and working with families. I’ve even started cooking for others again. Since it’s not our kitchen, it doesn’t feel as imposing.

It feels good to cook for people again, even if it still doesn’t taste the same.

Momijikawa-kun’s been helping me with that, too. I go to his apartment every Monday for dinner and he tries to find something that brings joy. He told me about the first time you two had dinner together and even offered to make omurice for me, but we both decided he should stick to his promise of not making it at all.

Umemiya-san and Natsuki-chan have both convinced me to help with the community garden more. Each Sunday I go over there and we spend a couple hours caring for the plants. He’s taught me a lot about how and when to properly trim fruiting plants and how to create appropriate irrigation systems, even for something small.

Natsuki-chan took his instructions and helped me create a vegetable garden in the yard. She comes and says she’s checking it but I know she just wants to chat. She misses you dearly. I think it’s her way of trying to be close. But Umemiya-san was right. Getting my hands dirty helped. Bringing things to life? Especially those that blossom and fruit. I understand why he was so enthusiastic about his garden when you two first met.

I’ve also been going out more with the others. Nirei-kun’s taken up bicycling, traveling throughout the city and through local trails and I’ve started joining him once every couple of weeks. He tries to avoid places of significance for you and me, which I appreciate, so it’s turned into interesting routes to avoid otherwise straightforward paths. Every other Friday, Suo-kun will go with me to Tsubaki-chan’s new club. Sometimes Kiryuu-chan will join us, but I’ll usually see him at the cafe instead. It’s nice, seeing everyone like this. It doesn’t feel as forced as it once did. I don’t feel like they’re mourning through me anymore, which helps.

For the first time since you left, it feels like I can breathe easier a bit. Like I can move forward a bit.

I only wish you were moving forward with me.

Dear Haruka,

I’m sorry. It’s been a while.

I

The other day, I had a nightmare that I was there. Everything moved so slow and I tried calling out to you to tell you that I was fine and you should just come home, but you couldn’t hear me. Not until you were halfway through the street did you finally hear, and you turned around just in time for .

The last time I cried that hard was the natsu matsuri, but it was different. The tears came then because I couldn’t take more than ten steps down the street without feeling like I was reliving that nightmare. But this? It’s been four days and all I feel is the raw and ragged loneliness in the shape of you. As though I am made of glass and the loss of you has left me cracked and jagged with rough edges, leaving me unable to move lest I cut myself. I haven’t been able to leave and properly care for Aki. Kotoha-chan is coming over in a bit to help because Nirei-kun—of course it was him—figured out something was wrong. It’s a miracle that I got out of bed enough to write this.

I’m so tired, Haruka.

Please, help me make this pain go away.

Dear Haruka,

Some updates for you:

Hiragi-san is finally getting married! They talked about it on and off since before you left and I finally received an invitation this week. Yesterday, Umemiya-san was blowing up the group chat to organize a nijikai that feels more like a reunion than a reception after party. After a while, Hiragi-san stopped objecting, though I think it’s because Inuoe-san likes Umemiya-san’s antics.

Anzai-kun had his first baby last month, Takeo. We were able to visit for a short while the other day. He’s so quiet, unlike his father. I teased him about that and he told me he wishes his son will be calmer than he was as a child, but is expecting him to be a wild card to teach him the struggles he put his parents through. Takeo took quite a liking to Sugishita-kun. You would have laughed at his expression. Never saw him look so uncomfortable, but he was smiling before the end of it.

Suo-kun’s coworker stopped waiting for him to do something and asked him out, though I’m not entirely sure that’s not exactly what he wanted. He was very pleased to tell us this, but his smile was wily like it is when things play out exactly as he thought they would. We wouldn’t stop asking about them and he was evasive as usual, but when everyone else looked away, I swear his smile turned soft, like he’s genuinely happy.

I’m happy to see everyone else smiling.

Then I started wondering where the time went, how it feels like I missed so much of this happening, and I realize that I have been stuck. Time stopped for me when you died and what tiny grains of sand slipped through my hourglass have done so painfully. The world has passed me by meanwhile I cannot get past… this.

I’m sorry not all my news can be good news.

Dear Haruka,

Just finished a follow-up appointment with Dr. Yamaka. Was it a follow-up? A year has passed since I last saw her, but we scheduled it this way. Would it be more accurate to call this a check-up? Not sure what to call it. Doesn’t matter.

She asked me what I’m doing now, where I’m going, and it made me realize I don’t have goals anymore. I don’t care anymore.

You and I were going places together. Our future was planned out, vacations carefully detailed, where we wanted to go. There’s a list of house repairs that you made that we were saving up for together. You were deciding whether you wanted to take Kotoha-chan up on her offer to get you into that culinary program and I… well. Everything I was doing was put on hold, but I haven’t picked any of it up again. Takeda-san asks me the same question every year and every year I still don’t have an answer for him, though I don’t think he minds waiting for one. Now that you’re gone, I’m struggling to want to go anywhere.

It feels as though I’m on a wooden raft, floating out on an eerily calm sea, heading into an endless fog. I hear nothing call or direct me. I see nothing that inspires my effort to reach it. I feel no compulsion to find a way out on my own.

Dr. Yamaka is looking at making a recommendation for a prescription and she suggested connecting with my community might help. So, with her guidance and the knowledge that you would want me to follow her suggestions, I’m making dinner for everyone tonight. Kotoha-chan and Momijikawa-kun both said they were interested in coming over to help, but we’ll see. I don’t know what they’d say that could change how I’m feeling, but what matters is that we’re all trying.

I’m not alone.

I just wish it didn’t feel like I was.

Dear Haruka,

I know I just saw you, but I’m not done with you yet.

In this dream, you were in bed with me. The sun filtered through our summer curtains and the birds were chirping outside. It was warm, but not overbearing, not the way you and I would complain about. Enough that you could hold me without me needing to escape your heat. I felt your heartbeat against my back. I was tracing the scarring on your knuckles. You were whispering something in my ear but wouldn’t speak up when I asked you to.

My alarm went off and you tried to release me, to push me to getting ready for the day. I tried telling you that I wouldn’t wake up because I wasn’t sacrificing more time with you for something as silly as waking up and you called me stupid. You still tightened your hold around me like you didn’t want to let go, either.

Woke up before I had a chance to tell you that there is very little I’d give for the opportunity to be held by you again.

I think you knew anyway.

Dear Haruka,

I’m sorry. I have to leave. This has to be my last letter to you.

This is my life with you. This house and everything in it is a culmination of us, not just me, not just you. This is the house that you and I chose together after going back and forth with each other for months. We planted the garden together, made it representative of us. Soil was dug by you and nurtured by me. The nicks in the cabinets are from our early kitchen mistakes, from being a little careless and being a little silly.

Every aspect of my life right now is founded on the choices we made for a life we planned together. And it breaks my heart every day.

Any time I start to make progress, I return to an empty home, an empty bed, completely devoid of the other person I made this space for. Even with Aki, even with everyone coming over regularly, even with me going out more, I return to our home without you.

I don’t want to. I’m afraid that moving on from this is moving on from you, even if I know it isn’t. There’s some part of me that thinks I’m abandoning you by leaving but I know that’s not the case. You would be mad at me for even entertaining that line of thought. This is where I feel you the strongest and so I know it’s time for me to leave but because you are strongest here, I’m afraid you won’t be able to find me. But if you’re here, if any part of you lingers because you were not able to cross over, because I am your unfinished business, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. And I have to love myself the way you would love me if only because I know it’s what you would want.

Sometimes it pisses me off that we were together all the time. (It doesn’t actually. I wish we had more time together.) But standing in the home we shared together, I desperately want to hear your voice and not just in vague memories and distant dreams. The only voice message I have from you is from after that fight we had from shortly after we moved in together. I hear your anger and frustration and it makes me cry because I want to go back in time and tell you that I love you more than either of us could possibly know. More than my body is capable of.

Every fiber of my being wishes that I didn’t answer the phone each time you called. There should be proof of your love verbalized and recorded for when I long to hear your voice. Nirei-kun and Kiryuu-chan both found out and found old videos they had of you talking about me over the years and I appreciate them, I do, but… it’s different not hearing you call my name. Did you know you said it differently? When you would talk to others versus when you would talk to me? You’d get soft for me in a way that would probably turn you as pink as the camellias in the yard if you knew.

Everyone is here to help me move out. I do mean everyone—all of your Bofurin has arrived to help one way or another. Only Kotoha-chan, Kiryuu-chan, Nirei-kun, and Momijikawa-kun know that I’m leaving Makochi. Umemiya-san, Tsubaki-chan, and Suo-kun suspect, but they’re content to leave it alone. What should have taken me weeks is taking me a handful of days, and it’s both a whirlwind and… appreciated. Everyone is here to say goodbye, to me, but also to you. It’s not just my memories that linger in these walls, not just my laughter that once filled these rooms with you.

I know the life that led you here, how much you longed for love and acceptance and there is nothing more fitting than the life you received once you came here. The love everyone has for you still is abundant and pure, and it will stick with all of us. I hope you can feel it. It breaks my heart every day that you couldn’t spend more time basking in all the love that this community has to offer you. And I would love to stay here to honor the love you had for them and the love they had for you, but I think it’s killing me, staying here.

Every couple weeks I have that dream again, the one where we’re separated by the crowd and you say you’ll try to get to me and I tell you that it’ll be easier for me to reach you. Subconsciously, that truth follows me, and staying in this house where your shadows hover in the corners, I fear that I will be hastening my return to you. I want to lead a life that I can boast about when I reach you again. The next time I see your smile, I want it to be wide and proud, and that means it’s time to leave.

And in doing that… I have to stop doing this. I have to let go of you. You would want me to, I think. I’m not forgetting you—there is no forgetting you—but for us both, I need to move forward.

So. I love you. I miss you.

In the space between my atoms, there remains evidence of you left behind. You have been wholly embedded into my existence, forever altering my DNA. It’s time that I accept that wherever I go, you will, too.

Dear Haruka,

It has been many years since I last greeted you with those words. My nurse was kind enough to provide me with a letter and pen, though she was confused when I told her what is to become of these letters when I am no longer in her care. She’s a good girl who cares quite a bit, so I have confidence that she will carry it through, regardless. I have lived a life that you would be proud of, long and healthy and as happy as could be. The list of destinations we wanted to visit together has been checked off, including everything overseas. I won’t talk about it in this letter because I would much rather tell you when I see you once more. My life has been full of love, both with our old friends and with new, carrying you with me all the while. It was good. You would be proud. It’s time. I hear what the doctors whisper, that this is a second wind, a chance to say my goodbyes before the end, and so I write to you my final goodbye, though this serves as a temporary one. Before I go, I need you to know that I found out more about camellias. There was another meaning that I didn’t know until recently. Because the entire flower falls when it dies, its male and female parts remain intact. Some people believe that it is a sign that lovers will reunite in the afterlife. I must make for a rather bothersome patient, asking for so much from my attendant, but I have asked her to find me a red camellia. It sits in the windowsill right now, bright red and whole, reminding me so clearly of the flower you first gifted me decades ago. It will be my gift for our reunion.

I am sorry to have kept you waiting, my dearest Haruka.

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