#voltage drabbles

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Aaaaand $48 dollars later it’s over 😭😭

I 100% know I’m going to be re-reading this one for a while, it really gave me first love diary vibes with extra comedic effect- have any of y’all played it?

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His New Bride (Haruichi Mamiya)

I originally meant for this to be a short headcanon, but he and the MC are my OTP, and soon I imagined a little oneshot for him.

Request: Domestic Moments - MC Moving In for @synthesthetic

Words: 550

Genre: Slice of Life

For other works: Fanfiction Masterpost

The arrival of the bride to the Mamiya household was no small undertaking Seeing all his men lined up for her was a surreal experience. It cemented the fact that she was his, for better or for worse, and she had taken him strings and all. There was no way he was letting go of her now, but for newlyweds, living in a house with a full staff left privacy to be desired. Sure they could retreat to their shared room, but he’d like to be able to kiss his wife without curious onlookers who were doing their best to blend into the background despite their curiosity. 

To say the least, he was getting annoyed, but more than that, he was concerned for what it would do to her. Though he had full confidence in his new bride, she wasn’t born into this, and sometimes he wondered if her privacy was too much to sacrifice. As the thoughts filled his head, he tossed and turned that night. When he woke with a jerk, he realized that the bed beside him was empty. Fumbling for his glasses, he grabbed his watch only to find it was 5 in the morning. Where the hell was she? Had she gotten fed up with it all and gone back to her parents?

Not bothering to fix the state of his clothes, he rushed out of their room.

He had found her in a most unexpected place. So unexpected, he adjusted his glasses just to be sure what he was seeing was really there. “Sweetheart what are you doing?” Spatula in hand, she literally jumped a foot into the air. “Haru! You scared me to death!” He couldn’t help but notice what a pretty sight she made in an apron. Very domestic.

“You weren’t in bed,” he said trying not to sulk. “I wanted to make breakfast. I can’t leave it up to Asako all the time.” She turned back to the stove. “Sweetheart,” his smile was pained as he said as gently as possible. “You know you don’t have to cook.” “I’m better now you know,” she said indignantly. “And even I can manage miso soup and an omelet.” “If you say so…” he trailed off, knowing that he’ll have to finish whatever concoction she’d manage. For a man with nerves of steel, he hoped his stomach was the same. As much as he loved her, his body still could not forget what culinary experiences he had when they first started dating. It was unforgettable to put it mildly.

Together they sat at the table, most of the house still asleep. “Dig in,” she encouraged, pushing a plate at him. “Thank you for the meal.” Bracing himself, Haruichi picked up his chopsticks. His eyes widened. “Mm! This is actually good.” “You sound surprised,” her voice flat. “No, of course not,” he was quick to deny. Their eyes met and suddenly they burst out laughing.

When he finally caught his breath, he threw his wife a winning smile. “It’s really good.” “I’m glad,” she accepted graciously. The two of them continued to eat in a comfortable silence.

“Haru?”  “Hm?” he looked up from his rice bowl. “Good morning,” she said, her smile lighting up her entire face. “Good morning,” he echoed feeling very very married.

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Something Borrowed, Something Blue (Takao Maruyama)

Summary: You were happy together, or so you had thought. One day, out of the blue, Takao drops you off at home and tells you it’s over. Just like that, no explanation, no answers, it was just over. He avoided you like the plague: no phone calls, texts, or emails. Only radio silence. Not even the guys could get through to him. A person could only take so much though. Dumped by two fiances in less than 2 years had to be a record of some kind. Having sworn off men, you poured yourself into your craft.Another two years go by in the blink of an eye, and you find yourself back in Tokyo again. Back in your old stomping grounds, things have changed, and so have you. Will old flames rekindle even when they’re not meant to?

Part 3: My Dream Come True

For other parts: Masterpost

The familiar sweep of brown hair was mussed from sleeping, and eyes that you knew were a deep brown were still closed. It was the last face you expected to see. Now it was less a foot from yours. You had to be seeing things. The alcohol had gotten to you. You were hungover, and your eyes were playing tricks on you. That was it. You squeezed your eyes shut and willed the mirage away.  When you opened them again, the image still remained. “No. No no no…” You couldn’t have… “What’s wrong?” Groggily, he drape an arm around your waist. You flinched when bare skin met yours. You scrambled backwards, clutching the sheet to your chest. “ _________?” his face scrunched with concern as he looked at your bewilderment. You blindly groped around the floor for your clothes only to find a tell tale trail from the door to the bed.

“What are you in such a rush for?” he grumbled sleepily as you hastily pulled on your clothes. “I have to go,” you blurted out, grabbing your purse and your phone. “Wait what?” taken aback, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, squinting to get a better look at you. “Here for my share of the room,” you pulled out some bills from you wallet. “What are you rambling about?” “I have to go,” you blurted out, this time working yourself into a frenzy. “Wait! I’ll take -” “Bye.” Not even waiting for him to finish, you dashed for the door.

It was only when you got outside did everything hit you. Oh God, what have you done. Both your heart and your head were still pounding  even you made it across the street. Bzzzt. Buzzing like an angry wasp, your phone trilled. Frantically you repeated hit ‘ignore’, and sped up; first speed walking, then jogging, and finally running. Even as you continued to hit ‘ignore’ your phone continued to vibrate.

You ran until your lungs burned. It was only after you deemed yourself safe did you rest your hands on your knees, heaving to catch your breath. As the crisp morning air cleared the last lingering effects of the alcohol, the reason slowly took the place of panic. You were a modern woman. You would be rational. The world didn’t stop spinning just because you made a stupid mistake last night. You’d deal with it like a grown adult.

It was still too early for the first train to be running, but you’d get home, take a shower, go to the pharmacy, and go to work. Yes, work. You refused to let your personal life get in the way of your work. You clung to the idea like it was the last solid thing in the world. Shower then work. You’ll feel better once you got to the office.

You hesitated at the door afraid that last night would be tattooed onto your forehead. A scarlet letter for all to see. But it didn’t happen. It was like any other day at the office. The smell of coffee in the air as people bustled around carrying flowers, pencils, and tablets to the various rooms. Lunch time came and went before you noticed. Not that you had an appetite. Who were you kidding? You’ve been a mess since you saw Takao again. After all how else could you explain jumping right into bed with him only hours later. So much for being over him. You’d think the past two years would amount to something more than false bravado. Distracted by your buzzing phone, you hit ignore for the umpteenth time today. ‘Can’t he take a hint?’ you scowled at your phone.

“Hey  _________, did you say you had a client at 1?” one of your coworkers asked as they dropped off a file at your desk. “Yea why?” you pulled your eyes from another scrapped design. “It’s 12:30,” your coworker offered. “Shoot! I should be on the train now!!” You scrambled, shoving folders and your work tablet into your purse. Grabbing your phone, you made a mad dash out the door. “You can make it if you get a cab,” she called after you. “Thanks!”

---

The cab screeched in at 12:29pm, and you only slowed down after you opened the doors. Smoothing your hair back in place, you walked towards the bride.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” “Oh no worries. I was just so excited, I ended up early. I wanted to look at the church again,” the bride spun around with a dazzling smile. “It’s a beautiful church,” you returned politely. “Isn’t it?” she sighed dreamily. “It’s a special place to my fiance, so we decided to get married here.”

Oh it’s special alright, if you count this is where Takao had proposed to you. No, no. You are going to be professional. This isn’t about you. It’s about the bride and the groom and Lilly. “I was surprised when I learned we wouldn’t be working with a wedding planner,” you probed. “Oh no. This is going to be the happiest day of our lives. I want to be there to see it through from start to finish.”

Controlling much? You couldn’t help the unkind thought. No no, this is your job. For all you knew, she was a perfectly sweet girl undeserving of your ire. Reining in your inner witch, you plastered that smile on your face for all you’re worth. “A bride who takes the initiative. Well, I brought a few mock ups to give you an idea of the the options you had. We customize it to your liking. Given the decor you showed me yesterday, I think pink cabbage roses and green hydrangeas compliment it. And here we can soften it with whites or cream depending on your preference,” you offered, flipping through mock ups on your tablet. “I really want the colors to balance out. Takao’s always been such a great support to me, and I want our wedding to celebrate that.” “You must love him very much.” “I do…” the bride’s entire face soften, no doubt thinking about her intended groom.

“So how did you meet?” you couldn’t help but ask. “Oh we used to work together.” The bride continued zooming in and out of the mock ups, unaware of your own personal investment in the whole situation. “Used to?” “Yes. I was his paralegal. Well I gave my notice two weeks ago. He’s up for partner, so I really want to support him 100%.” “How nice of you. He must appreciate it.” “I want to do all I can for him. He means the world to me.”

Unable to stomach any more of the bride’s adoration for Takao, you changed the subject.

“You said you wanted to do arrangements all down the aisle and the pews.”

Your cheeks were starting to ache with the effort to maintain a smile. With each mention of Takao, it grew more strained. You didn’t need someone to tell you how special he was. Someone only had to meet him to know that. Even now, he had the power to break your heart anew. Wasn’t it enough for you to live in his shadow? Did he really have to give another woman your dream wedding? Was nothing sacred?

“No expense spared on the flowers,” the bride’s words filtered through your turmoil. “I want to feel like I’m walking through a fairy tale.”

You made nodded as she spoke, making notes as she continued to chatter on. “Hmm...maybe instead of green hydrangeas, what do you think of orange blossoms?” “Orange blossoms?” That immediately caught your attention. “I thought you said Takao’s favorite color was green.” The bride’s delicate face scrunched as she contemplated. “It is, but his favorite flowers are orange blossoms. He always has them at home.”

You could still clearly remember how Takao had stood in your family’s shop, the flowers in your father’s hands. “These flowers represent my feelings for  _________….Just like these flowers, she’s radiant, charming...I want to dedicate my life to supporting her, just as she supports me.”  Another broken promise, now given to another woman.

“But green is one of our wedding colors…Hmm…”

This was only the second consultation, and you could feel the strain. Could you even get through this with your pride intact? You had the solution right in your bag. You didn’t know why you brought it today of all days. Why did you even dig it up? Were you that much of a masochist? As the bride flipped through a floral catalog, you could feel the folder burning a hole in your purse. Hours poured into those designs as you dreamed of your own happily ever after with Takao. How happy had you been when he had proposed? Never thought there would be the day when you would be helping him with his wedding to someone else.

“Well I have this,” you reluctantly offered.

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What the Bidders Would Do In a Heat Wave (Part 2)

For other works: Fanfiction Masterpost

Ota Kisaki

Nothing like fun in the sun with Ota. When he had suggested that two you take a walk to the beach, you were determined for him to treat you like a pet. After all you were his girlfriend. Armed in hand with the most adorable bikini, you were ready for a nice cool dip. When Ota had come prepared with a shovel and bucket, you weren’t surprised. It was so like Ota to want to get his hands dirty and create something. To your dismay, it’s not a castle he ends up building but a dog house.

Peeved, you leave Ota behind, only to have him come back to you with an inner tube. Adorn with polka dots, it was absolutely adorable, but you could swim. You were just about to say so until Ota opened his mouth commenting on how you shouldn’t get your fur wet. Peeved, you watched the incoming surf.

“Koro, don’t you dare.”

And that did it. You didn’t even wait for the water to hit Ota, making your escape as soon as possible. Laughing as you ran, his long legs ate up the beach, catching you in no time. In one fell swoop, you were tossed into the ocean. Surfacing with a sputter, the two of you screamed in glee as your water battle continued. 

Mitsunari Baba

Baba and you were sailing your home across the open waters, feeling the wind through your hair. He stood behind you, hands on yours on the steering wheel, before he finally let go to  adjust the sails. Fishing on the wide open sea was something new too. The two of you dissolved into a fit of laughter when a deceiving large catch turned up to be a piece of floating kelp. In the end, Baba magically made two fish appear on the same line. Taking refuge from the sweltering sun in a cove, lunch was served.

Summer is full of inspiration for delicious cocktails: kiwano mojitos, mixed berry mules, and Sandis Smash. Your feet dangled in the water as the two of you enjoyed your hard earned lunch. Everything was so good, it didn’t occur to you that you might over indulge.

“Whoa! Careful there. Don’t want to go overboard.” His arm shot out to steady you. “I’m fine. Just fine. Hic!” Your whole body jolted with the force of your hiccup. The two of you go back in forth, each protesting until in your haste to prove your point, end up falling backwards.

A man like Baba never passes on an opportunity like that, and before you know it, he’s on top of you, his lips on yours.

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To Be Continued (Masashi Himuro)

Summary: Marriage is a wonderful chapter of life, but when something unexpectedly happens to the leading lady, what does the male protagonist do? Masashi never expected to find marriage a part of his story, but ever since she found her way into his life, he couldn’t see him life without it. She’s been gone for nearly 7 years now. Can he bear to close the book and say that their story’s done? As a medical examiner, he isn’t new to death, but when it’s her name on the death certificate, can he put his pen to the paper? 

Finale: One Step Forward

For other parts: Masterpost

The distinct buzz of a phone rang through your sleep addled mind. Every part of you was exhausted, all cried out, so you sank into the bed, hoping the buzzing would just stop. The mattress shifted as Masashi got out, the bed already colder for it. His baritone was quiet, and through half opened eyelids you could tell that it was still dark out. What could anyone want this time of night? You heard the closet door slide open and the shuffling of fabric. “Masashi?” By the faint light of a lamp, your husband was slipping on a shirt. “Did I wake you?” A gentle hand brushed your hair. “Did something happen?” “My brother’s coming over to pick up some files.” “So early?” “It’s the only time he has before we leave. He’s covering my cases until I get back.” “Oh. Must be hard to have to work on Sunday.” Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you swung your legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll make breakfast.” “It’s fine.” Gently pushing you back onto the bed, he chastely kissed your forehead. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up when it’s time to get ready.” “Mmm I should make breakfast.” “Listen to me,” he insisted. You wavered between decorum and exhaustion. Sleep won. “Alright. Good night Masashi.” “Sleep well.”

-----

It was a bright Sunday. The sun was shining and not a cloud in sight. The atmosphere in the tatami room felt oppressive though. You and Masashi sat seiza style in front of your father. Even though it was only the three of you, it felt like there was a gulf between you. In the seven years you spent with them, they were always loving, you never doubted it.

But no matter how you asked, they had refused to talk about your time away from your hometown, and seeing the pain on their faces, you never pressed. Everyone simply took it for granted that you were Eri Sato. After all, the resemblance was uncanny. It was hard to believe that the girl in the photos wasn’t you. Harder to believe since your mother had given you her blood when you had Kouhei. They gave you everything.

Your father was the first to break the silence. “Eri.” “Dad,” you sighed with relief that he was still talking to you. “You came back.” “Of course I did.” “I didn’t think you would.” “Why wouldn’t I? You’re still my dad.” The back of your throat stung with unshed tears. “Kouhei?” “He’s doing great. I dropped him off at Ayaka’s.” “That’s good.” The relief was so apparent on your father’s face. You wanted to reach out and hold his hand, comfort him somehow. The father that had supported you looked so frail now. His hair seemed to be peppered with more white, and the wrinkles at his mouth and eyes deeper. His eyes were dull, the spark that had always twinkled when he laughed was gone. It hurt to see him look so tired.

“And this person?” he asked. “Himuro. We met at the hospital,” Masashi said formally. “Right.”  Your father rubbed the bridge of his nose. Masashi with his hands on his knees bowed deeply. “I’m sorry. I should’ve introduced myself properly earlier. I’m married to your daughter.” “Married to my daughter…” “Dad....” you pleaded. “I need a moment.” The two of you held your tongues. “Kouhei looks like him.” “He does.” Your expression softened.

“And mom?” you asked hesitantly. Your father’s face tensed again, and guilt filled your heart. “She’s having a hard time adjusting.” “I’m so sorry.” “We don’t blame you Eri. I feared this might happen. I hoped it wouldn’t, but it did.” “Dad… Can I go see her?” “She needs more time. I don’t want her to get too worked up.” “Dad…” “She loves you so much Eri.” “And I love her too.” “I know,but it’s hard on her.”

“It’s like when you, when the other you disappeared the first time,” your father corrected. You held your breath. They never brought this up voluntarily, and now… You waited for your father to find his voice again. Everyone had a story, especially the girl in the photos.

-----

Masashi’s pulse pounded in his throat. His grip on _________’s hand only tighten as he listened to the tale of Eri Sato.

It was like the tale of so many other girls. Young and vibrant and gone too soon. He had seen no shortage of them in the forums that he frequented. The anecdotes of the loved ones left behind and those whom hoped to find solace in others who had gone through the same tragedy. It was a place where the survivors hoped against all reason and tried to live with themselves day by day.

Masashi listened to the rise and fall of her father’s voice. Eri Sato had been young and headstrong, not unlike his own wife. Eri had left doting parents for dreams of the big city. And for a while all was well. Then the calls became less and less frequent. Her parents thought she was just being rebellious. Growing apart was painful but expected. She was dazzled by the lights and shedding her childhood self. But when the calls stopped altogether, they started to worry. It was every parent's’ nightmare: an empty room, absences at university, and friends that had no idea where she was. The rumors were just as bad. Eri had pulled away from her friends. They thought she might have gotten a boyfriend since she always seemed busy, except they never met one. So the rumors got worst, and people whispered. ‘Perhaps she was seeing a married man and that’s why no one ever met the man.’ But they had all seen her get in and out of an expensive car several times.

Her father’s voice cracked as he spoke ill of his beloved daughter. His Eri couldn’t be a homewrecker. She was so bright and pretty. She didn’t need to go after a married man. Even as he defended her, old wounds opened and bled anew. When words dissolved into choked tears, Masashi left to let them grieve in peace.

-----

The air buzzed with the sound of insects on a summer day. Sunflowers swayed in the breeze as the school bell rang, shortly followed by the sound of gleeful children. For one little boy, he dragged his feet out the door. He was feeling torn today, for he was leaving the only home he’s ever known for something he always wanted. Kouhei felt the back of his nose sting as he thought of how his grandpa and grandma had wished him a tearful goodbye this morning. His backpack was full of little gifts and the cards all his classmates had signed.

“You promise you’ll visit?” a little girl trailed after him, her ponytail swinging behind her. Her dark eyes swam with unshed tears. Her cupid’s bow quivering. “Promise. Mommy said we’re having dinner at grandpa and grandma’s in two Sundays.” “But what about school? It’s closed on Sunday.” Her pout grew. “We can meet in the field behind school.” “Promise?” she looked at him hopefully. “Promise!” With a shake of their pinkies, the two sealed their promise.

“Kouhei!” Kouhei turned toward the voice calling. “Daddy!” His face broke out in a huge smile as his parents waved at him. The smile fell a little when he turned back to look at his friend. “Mommy and Daddy are waiting.” “You’ll write?” “I told you I would didn’t I?” “Yeah,” she reluctantly agreed. “Kou! We have to go.” “Coming!”

Turning to the girl, he smiled like his daddy taught him. It wasn’t a goodbye. It was a ‘see you later.’ He had made a promise, and gentlemen kept their promises. So he didn’t say goodbye. “I have to go.” “You promised right?” “Promise! See you!”

Author’s Note: Thank you everyone for following this little family for the past year. I hope they broke and healed your heart with what they lost then found! I cannot say enough to tell you how much your support means to me.

See you in the next series!

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Promise (Date Masamune)

For other works: Masterpost

Prompt Request: Aloha Oe (Saying Goodbye) for @alice250598​ Someone makes a guest appearance since he hasn’t shown up in SLBP yet. But do you recognize him from “Love Legend Sengoku?”

Covered in the blood of Imagawa's ninjas, Masamune ripped the door off its frame. Not even in his worst nightmares would he have let his mind do this to her. Her kimono torn open at the collar. The bruising was unmistakable. But what was worse was the growing pool of red underneath her.

"IMAGAWA!" The man in question held her propped up against him like a limp doll. "You came just in time. Isn't she beautiful?" The pale hand angled her face so she would face Masamune. Her eyes glassy from pain, her lip split open where she had bitten it. Her blood matted the slender man's hair. In his other hand, a short sword's gleam was hidden under darkening red. "What did you do?" his voice as cold as the Oshu winters. "Uh uh uh. You wouldn't want my hand to slip." The madness in Imagawa's eyes was unmistakable.

"What. Did. You. Do?" he growled, now incensed. Underneath all the red, he couldn't tell where Imagawa had cut her. He was just glad he had gotten there before Imagawa could turn her into ribbon.

"I cut my doll's strings. Now she can't run away." Masamune felt the remaining color drain from his face, his rage quickly becoming replaced by fear. Any relief he had earlier was now dashed. "Let her go." "The One-eyed Dragon thinks he can take Yahiko from me?" "That's not her name. I won't ask twice." He didn't have time to waste on words. He had to save her. In the back of his mind, he regretted ditching Kojuro and Shigezane in his haste. What he wouldn't give to have them at his back right now. Then he could save her without worry. But Masamune didn't have time to hesitate. His eyes met hers. She believed in him. She trusted him. He wouldn't let her down.

Imagawa yelped when she bit the hand holding her chin. It wasn't much, but that was all Masamune needed. Imagawa barely had time to parry as metal scrapped against metal as Masamune put himself between Imagawa and his beloved. "Masamune..." His heart clenched at how weak her voice was. "I'll be right back," he reassured her.

It wasn't long before Imagawa hit the floor. Masamune didn't even bother to clean off his blade as he rushed back to her side. Gently he propped her up, praying that Kojuro and Shigezane would get to them soon. "Milord." "I'm here." Teeth grabbed at his sleeve as he tore it. Her legs were a mess. Masamune didn't have time to assess the damage. He needed to stop the bleeding. He didn't even realize he was crying til she reached for his face. "I love you," she said, her face in a forced smile as sweat beaded on her forehead. The bleeding wouldn't stop. In his deepest hearts of hearts, he knew it wouldn't. His hands were sticky with it even as he tore his coat to shreds. The cuts were too deep. He wanted to scream, beg, pray, plead for anyone who would listen to save her.

Soldiers were supposed to die like this, not her. Her hands weakly clutched at his coat. "I want to see your face," she pleaded, her voice growing quieter. "Kojuro and Shigezane will be here soon. Hang on." He pressed his lips together to keep them from trembling. He wouldn't break down. Not when she needed him.

When she reached for his face again, her hand fell to her side. "Here." She smiled when he brought her hand to his face for her. Her fingers were already ice cold. "I want to go home." "I'll bring you home. Promise." He gently pulled her into his lap, resting his forehead against hers. "Mmm. This is nice." She closed her eyes, her face relaxing for the first time since he's seen her again. His tears fell against her cheeks, his body dissolving into sobs as he held her close.

"Promise."

Historical Note: The act that Imagawa did is called “hamstringing.” By cutting the hamstring, you immobilize the person or animal. If they survive, they will never walk again, but more likely they will bleed to death.

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13 Days (Mitsuhide Akechi)

For other works: Masterpost

Prompt Request: Find Me (Asking for the MC) for @belxsar

The sky was a beautiful blue, for the world wouldn’t stop spinning even though he was left for dead. All men were born were fated to die. He was no different.

13 days... That's how long he ruled. He did it all for them, to make their dreams come true. Where did it go so wrong? He did what he had to. Reaching up to the sky with a blood stained hand, he wondered if he would see him again: the one whom he thought would bring about divine rule, his Lord Nobunaga.

Outsiders would scoff at him now since he was the one that set fire to Honnoji. They would never understand. Peace and the Divine Rule, that was the bond that would forever connect a man and his Lord. He simply couldn't let the farce continue. He refused to let Lord Nobunaga become the monster. Instead he would don the title: traitor, monster, whatever names they wished to sling, he would take them all. His in-laws and allies turning their backs on him. Their precious Tama branded a traitor's daughter, and her. What would become of her now that he wasn't at her side?

She who followed him through it all, never questioning, always faithful. She who kissed him goodbye and promised to wait for him on that faithful day. Would she be spared at the end of the day? Or would she be forced to take her own life to follow him? If only he could see her one last time before death came to reap him. Then his soul could find a little peace, undeserving as it was.

Mitsuhide's hand opened and closed, trying to remember her warmth before it too fell in the dirt beside him.

"My love...where are you?"

Historical Note: Mitsuhide was Shogun for 13 days before he died on his way to Sakamoto. After the fall of Nobunaga, his son-in-laws family turned their back on Mitsuhide, but when Tama was declared a traitor’s daughter, her husband sent her away so he wouldn’t have to divorce her. She ended up meeting her end after Mitsunari took her household hostage during his disputes with Ieyasu, leading her husband to join Ieyasu.

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A Visit from Her Ghost (Ryoichi Hirose)

For other works: Masterpost

Prompt Request: Hades for @redpantychan 

Smoke filled the air as he released another breath. Taking another drag, Ryoichi stared up at the ceiling. Within the privacy of his apartment, he didn't have to pretend. In the end, nothing would ever be alright again. How could it? The doorbell rang again, but it fell to deaf ears.

"Ryoichi, I know you're in there! It's been a month already! You can't hole up there forever," Rikako's voice called out in the background.

He tapped his cigarette over an overflowing ashtray. He couldn't be less bothered to change it out. After all, who would care? No one needed to see their apartment now that she was gone. Being a hermit suited him. Not that he had the energy to deal with other people.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that his bereavement leave was long over, but he didn't care if his publisher dropped him. None of it mattered anymore. What was he working for anyway? Her face would never light up again as she went over a manuscript. He'd never get to hear her chatter on with his father over the response to his latest novel. How could anyone expect him to work anymore? The person who quoted "Musical Rain" by the Seine didn't exist anymore. There was no point to any of it! He tossed back another shot of whiskey.

She heaved a sigh. "Ryoichi, how many times do I have to ask you not to smoke this much? You know it's not good for you?"

He felt something warm on his shoulders. A blanket? Did Rikako call a locksmith?

She sighed again. "When was the last time you shaved? Or showered for a fact? Have you been eating properly?"

This time there was no mistaking it. Ryoichi's eyes opened with a snap. "It's really you." "Yea, really me." She smiled, and it was just as beautiful as he remembered it. "You came back!" Sadly she shook her head. "I wanted to make sure you were alright before I, well you know." "That's not funny. You came back." "I'm not really here Ryoichi." "No..." The word was so wretched that his whole body crumpled from the weight. "You're too cruel." "I'm sorry." "Don't be sorry. Stay," he implored. "Ryoichi." "What did you expect? I can't eat, I can't sleep. All I can think about is how I couldn't save you." Ryoichi clutched his hands til his knuckles were white, but he refused to blink for the fear that she would vanish if he did.

"It's not your fault," she said kindly. "You don't know that." "You'll be surprised at what you can see once you're --" "Don't say it." He wouldn’t let her finish. He’d never let her say the word. It would be the end if she ever said it. "It doesn't make it less real." "This is just a sick joke. Come home already.” "You know it's not like that. I guess even you can be romantic from time to time." "Only for you,” he said with a wry grin, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

"You wouldn't be a best selling romance writer if you were a romantic deep down." "That doesn't matter anymore,” he quickly dismissed. "You're not being you. Ryoichi Hirose would never say his writing doesn't matter." "There's more to my life than writing. You--" "Then show me. Live. Laugh. Smile. I want to see all you do all those things,” she quickly interrupted. "You want me to smile? You gotta be kidding me," he scoffed. "I know you're hurting, but that's how you know you're alive." "So does the pain go away once you're dead then?" "Ryoichi, don't." "We could be together." And he could hold her again.

"You'd break my heart." "Mine is already broken." "I love you." "You're being unfair." "I learned from the best," she quipped. He cracked a smile. To think that now she chose to talk back. The girl that was so quick to blush had come a long way.

"I love you too,” he said, each word ringing with sincerity. "I always loved your writing. Won't you write for me? Live. Then when it's your time, you can tell me about all the adventures you've had. We'll read all your books together." "Please..." he begged. He could feel her pulling away. "I'll always love you. Don't forget."

And just like that, she was gone. Falling to his knees. Ryoichi let himself sob.

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