If I Had Never Forgotten You…
It was one of the more sunny days out on the sea, the breeze flowing trough Kazuha’s hair, carrying a comforting coldness alongside it.
He heard a loud bang from underneath where he sat, a member of the crew giving him an apologetic look when they saw his surprised face looking down at their form.
“It’s quite alright,” he spoke “the sound only startled me a little, it is of no aggravation to me.”
The man beneath let out a sigh and smiled once more, walking away to continue his tasks. Kazuha looked up at the nearly cloudless sky, looking for something to inspire him towards writing another one of his poems or haikus.
Yet nothing truly worth writing about came to mind, only thoughts regarding how he would spent his time on their next journey across the seas.
As the hours passed by, more and more crew members started to vanish from the deck, retreating to their rooms intending to rest after another long day.
But the young Inazuman still sat outside, looking up at the skies.
“HEY! Kazuha! watt'a ya doing being up here this hour” he could hear a female voice yell at him from below, and only smiled when he saw Beidou looking at him with a bottle in her hand.
“You should get ‘ome rest soon, don’ need ya passin out.” she seemed to have calmed down, yet her words we’re half minded and it was clear she was still quite drunk.
“I’m merely enjoying the views, need not worry over me Captain. I’ll make sure to retire into the land of dreams soon enough,” he spoke with uncertainty in his voice, something he only noticed as he finished his statement. But hoped Beidou didnt catch it, for even he did not know where it came from.
Although he wouldn’t get an answer as she only smiled and went off with a wave, seemingly wanting to rest just like the others.
He waved her back, but only felt anxious after her departure.
And so the poetic young boy took off to slumber in his room, his mind filled with thoughts of longing. But what he longed for he did not know
-;-
Another day lacking inspiration, as he had felt was now often the norm for him. His thoughts were filled with his lover in mind, yet still nothing good had come to mind.
He realized he had been gone for longer than he planned once again, after a good number of people seemed to need various things from his homeland. And naturally the first thing that came to his mind was you.
You had always been easy to please, willing to hear any haiku he had written, never being annoyed by his constant traveling.
And despite you rarely seeing him, you welcomed him with open arms every time he returned home for another month or so. Even though you never seemed to have an interest in traveling, he always made sure to ask if you’d like to join.
You had always said no, wanting to reside in your homeland for as long as he’d return to you.
He smiled at the memory, your words clinging to him and clouding his thoughts with you over and over.
Yet it seemed like the first time in months he’d even remembered those words, maybe he really was caught up in the moment too often.
But the thought of coming home late wasn’t a worry for him, for he was sure you’d accept his arrival just the same. You had always laughed when he ended up staying a little too long out at sea, finding joy in his forgetful mind.
Oh how would you hug him when he arrived, as tight as last time or maybe even tighter? He’s certain you missed him after his 4 month, well, now 6 month journey. For he is surely missing you right now.
-;-
When the Crux arrived at Ritou, lots of people came to greet them. Some of the guards could be seen worrying for a few citizens that were about to fall into the water, making sure everyone spread to make room for the arriving crew.
Kazuha looked around in the crowds, watching as people started loading off some goods. He scanned every place around the docks, looking for you, or just a tiny sign of you. yet he found none. He waited a few more minutes to make sure, earning a few sorrow glances from Beidou in the meantime, but still no sign of you.
Not that he was fully expecting your arrival, since you didnt know he would come home today. But he was still slightly disappointed, and had maybe gotten his hopes up.
No matter, you didnt know he was arriving today anyway, ignoring how this was his 5th time thinking that, he started getting off the crux. He had wanted to greet you at the docks but with that plan ruined, he’d just have to surprise you when he reached your residence.
Said surprise was made with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and the best poem he could find in his notebook, not that it truly was anything special. But he was sure you’d enjoy it.
Yeah, it would be nice to hold you again as you beamed at his poetic expertise. As you put the bouquet in a vase on the dining table, lovingly talking till the moon graced the heavens and you drag him to bed.
And it took but a few minutes to arrive at your house, hands sweaty and nervous as he carefully knocked at your door.
…
No response.
But that was no problem, maybe you had been sleeping in again or were out on a walk, the weather did seem to be quite nice today.
He opened the door and went in, calling your name in the process.
…
Still no response.
Oh well maybe you were sleeping, the door hadnt been locked either so it was the best reason he could come up with.
As he neared the bedroom, he sensed an unpleasant stench coming from it, and his nose told him just the right thing.
Weird, had you burned something maybe? No couldnt be, maybe you had forgotten to get rid of some old fruit?
He got his answers once he opened the door, flowers falling out his hands as he stopped moving. No, no no no, this wasnt real, this couldnt be real.
Yet nothing could stop him from looking at your lifeless body on the ground, laying so gracefully he would have thought you just took a nap on the floor. Were it not for your lack of breathing that is.
He understood where the smell came from now, but now that was the least of his problems.
His knees felt weak, like he had never been able to stand in the first place, and he soon fell to the ground as his knees gave in.
And he wanted to puke at the sight in front of him, yet he couldnt take his eyes off of you. He couldn’t stop his eyes from looking at your lifeless form before him, at all the blood that surrounded you.
Dried Blood.
He felt water run down his cheeks, he was crying. The salty taste falling on his tongue not long after, confirming his one unimportant thought. He truly cried for the first time since his friend had died, but it was once again because the one he felt closest to was gone.
Had been dead right before him once again, yet this time he had to see the blood that still seemed to be a little sticky when he reached out.
Something sharp cut him as he tried to reach for your hand, and he looked to your side slightly to see shattered glass surrounding your hand.
It looked like you had been carrying a cup when crashed down with you, but it had clearly cut you.
He took your hand in his, wincing a little at the sheer coldness of it. And it truly felt like holding raw ice in his palm, hard to think he was looking forward to holding the same hand just minutes earlier.
Tears blurred his vision, and for once he was glad he didnt have to look at you, that he didnt have to look at the pool of blood that seemed to be enveloping your figure.
And he only felt regret that it wasn’t him around your form for the last moments of your time.
So lifting your body slightly, he hugged it the best he could, trying his very best to comfort something because it clearly was not comforting himself when your icey skin made contact with his.
He barely moved after that, sitting silently on the floor. And he was sure some of the blood had gotten onto his clothes, staining them all a dark red. But he couldn’t have cared less.
It was cold, he was freezing and his body screamed for him to warm up one way or another. But he did nothing to soothe his body from the cold, for how could he when your numb body was right there.
If he had arrived home sooner, could he have prevented this?
Could he be hugged by your warmth, instead of clinging to your piercingly cold body?
He wants to say that it wasn’t his fault, but he cant bring himself to even try and word it out.
And it hurts so badly that he can’t do anything to help you, only wish this is but a dream. Yet he won’t get ahead of himself, all he wanted to do was blame himself.
It is his fault that you’re gone, no matter who tells him otherwise.
For if I had just remembered you…
…Would you still be here to comfort my dying heart?