A belated birthday fic for my best friend, Eleanor. -.-;; I was intending to write a sweet sappy Inuyasha fic for her, but somehow, the fic just wouldn’t come out, so I ended up with this instead. Anyways, hope you enjoy~

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We had been intending to go to the shrine for the Natsu Matsuri[1] that night.

Had is the keyword though, as a certain unforeseen predicament managed to send us right back to where I started. Or rather, where my memory started since the incident that had part of me lost to the despairing darkness.

Why I seem to be able to speak with such disturbing apathy seemed to affect some of my friends, and relatives. Yet, I could not help but to act as I did, for I knew of no other way than that.

The only one whom I seemed to open up to, the one who managed to stir some form of emotion in me was him. He who owned the first face I saw since my awakening. The one whose face I deemed an angel’s and voice of a church’s choir. He who had accompanied me every other second every day, introducing me to the new and olds, the familiar and not.

He told me of our tale. Of the times when we had been together. A tale of the two of us, and would only belong to the two of us. But that would be another story. For now, I shall elaborate only on this matter.

We had been boyfriends before my accident, he began, and despite objections amongst families and the society, we managed to survive through for a decade in relative peace. That was until the incident that had me sent to this room of white, with only the constant beeping of machinery as my company.

There had been a serial killer, he continued, a prejudiced fool who felt that ridding the world of it’s ‘demons’, also known as psychics, who occupied a quarter of the concurrent population of the world, was his oh so holy mission. Another obsessed Christian who chucked the face of the other Christians down the drain, he added in disgust, a feeling I could almost sympathize with, since he was of the similar religion.

That aforementioned serial killer seemed to target only on males, and effeminate looking ones, who are known to be psychic. I could have sworn that he added ‘beautiful ones too’ under his breath, but that would be out of the topic now, wouldn’t it? Anyways, I was his seventh target, and probably his final, since he was apparently nabbed in the act, and it was under their assumption that something that he had done to me had caused this dumbfounding case of amnesia.

For a month, I stayed in this little room of white, this room where the smell of alcohol and disinfectants lingered in every crook and cranny. Admittedly, I had initially been quite fond of this scent, its refreshing effect did give it a plus point. Inhaling it for an entire month, and only being able to be out in the open on rare occasions to breathe in the fresh air, the air that seemed to liven my emotions, or what had been left of it, left a decidedly sick feeling that seemed to settle in my stomach every time it wafted into my nose.

Finally, on that night, the night that he had managed to beg his way through the doctor’s heart and was allowed to accompany me to the shrine for the Natsu Matsuri, we made our way up our intended destination, clad in our respective yukatas. Hand in hand, we climbed up the terribly long stretch of stairs, towards the entrance of the shrine, where latterns and various decorative materials were dangled on long wires on either sides of the tiled path, brightening our route, and leading us easily to the crowd where makeshift stalls had been set up with various mini-games displayed.

That was when it happened.

A spasm seemed to shoot from my foot to my skull, and before I knew it, my ashen face was laid against the silky fabric of his yukata. His blue yukata that I had commented to compliment his looks almost perfectly.

Frantic voices seemed to surround me as chaos erupted in the near vicinity of our location, but that was quickly cleared, as the authoritive voice of the person whom I tagged as my doctor took control of the situation. A blurred memory seemed to pop in right then, reminding me of the reason why he was here in the first place.

‘I will follow the two of you, just in case any situation arises.’

Yup, something arose. I thought cynically in recollection of his words. However, no thought was allowed anytime after, as spasm after spasm, seizure after seizure seemed to crash into my dazed brain continuously. I could vaguely feel my physically body trembling at every spasm and jolting when each seizure seized me. Yet, there was nothing I could do.

Try as I might, I could hold back none of those seizures, and even as what had been left of my peripheral vision faded to nothingness, they lingered on, stubbornly snatching my peace from me, and insistent on wrecking my vulnerable body and mind into uncountable pieces.

When my salvation from these demons arrived, it was to be in the form of a warm hand against mine, clutching against it almost frantically, as though it would disappear at any given opportunity. Just like any other, I merely squeezed my hand back in gratitude, gratitude for his concern.

When light managed to seep through the narrowed slits of my eyes again, I was again granted the view of a familiar white ceiling. A furtive glance proved the same white walls in my memory to be present as well. I was back in my little room of white again, it seemed. And more machinery had been added to my bed, alongside the number of tubes connected to my pale, to the point of almost white, frail arm.

And there he was, my angel in this room of solitary madness. His face was half hidden by the white linen blanket on my bed, as was his onyx eyes covered by a layer of skin, his face slackened with sleep, although a frown seemed to mar the illusion of his contented rest, reminding me of his constant worry for my health and well-being.

I weakly tried to raise my hand from his surprisingly strong grip, in an attempt to stroke his liquid-like black hair, encountering, instead, a strong resistance from him. And unconscious reaction it seemed as he clenched his hand around mine painfully, and mumbled jumbled words over and over, almost desperately. Some of them, too laden with sorrow for me to decipher, whilst the others seemed to pierce my heart over and over again, at my ineptitude to comfort him there and then. To wake him and tell him that I would be alright, that there would not be no need for him to worry again.

Finally, I laid against the sheets of my bed, which was of similar shade to my blanket, and with the littlest bit of strength that I could conjure within myself, I had a blanket from a vacant, adjacent cot floating over where it easily covered his sleeping form gently, almost cradling him as if he were a baby.

The effort however, had exhausted me thoroughly, leeching from me, even the tiniest power to keep my eyes from slipping shut, and leading me back to the unending spiral of darkness again.

~*~

“It seems that the poison had managed to spread in the entire of his body in a month after that incident. There isn’t much we can do for him at this point, except to lessen his pain until he eventually takes his last.”

“What do you mean there’s nothing you can do for him?! Surely there’s a way to help him! Surely you can save him, right doctor?”

“There’s nothing we can do… The poison might have been able to be purged out of his body at the earlier stages, however, there are little ways to detect it, and by the time we did, it was too late.”

Thud. The sound of knees colliding against the ground solidly. Then the shuffling sound of fabric against fabric, and the faint sound of a muttered apology before heels collided against the tiled floor continuously, slowly growing louder before fading off again, ending only when the door slid against its frame with a light bang.

So that’s how I’m going to die eh? Doped to gills with painkillers and my body wrecked with pain. Pain that I probably would not be able to feel even after death.

I supposed that to a certain extent that was indeed peace for me, for if I was given a choice between the excruciating pain that I had experienced in that fateful night and medications that could have lasting side effects on my already damaged body, I probably would have chosen the latter anytime.

Realization of the sound that had been emitted from my dry throat did not hit me until he scuttled over to the seat beside my bed, his hand clutching against mine in that comforting hold yet again.

Lifting my eyelids, I caught sight of the dark rings that outlined his beautiful onyx eyes, the pallid quality of his skin, his reddened nose, and finally, the two neat streaks of tears that were trailing down his face, down to his quivering chin where they either continued their way down to the inward arch of his neck, or fell to their imminent death against the white blanket that rested on my body once again.

That was what was going to happen to me, wasn’t it? I was going to die. To leave the living, and join the dead.

Yet, an unnamable peace seemed to settle on me. Seemed to calm my feelings, which theoretically, should have been racing at the thought of my irreversible death.

With a soft unmanly cry, which was so very uncharacteristic yet cute of him, he buried his face into my abdomen where moisture immediately seeped through the material and encountered my gown. His heart wrenching sobs were the only sound that filled this room. The only sound that made this surreal scene seem humane.

Gently, I rested my hand on his smooth hair, stroking it with all my strength as he cried his heart out. As he allowed all of his emotions to pour free from the once-locked cell that he called his heart, and flow about in this room, this little room of white.

~*~

He had taken to wheeling me about the hospital, where I would be able to watch the lively display of the living. Where I would be able to enjoy the last of my life with him.

Every time he came to fetch me for another ride, his eyes would be swollen and puffy, yet a smile would always linger on his lips. A smile that even through my deteriorating sight, could be seen to be strained. Even then, I would manage a smile back, a smile to thank him for all he had ever done for me. To thank him for wanting to be with me, even as I lie in my little room of white, at the brink of death.

Sitting against my recently declared favourite oak tree, I could feel the merciless grip of death slowly clawing at me, dragging my unresisting body towards the edge, where I would finally topple over.

I probably would never agree more to that one person who had commented that one would see all of his life before his death.

In that one second, my memories seemed to have all returned to me. I could see our struggles against all objections to stay together, the good and bad times we shared, from childhood, to our schooling years, and finally to adulthood. Remember the loving kisses he had showered on me every other times, the hugs that welcomed me home every time I stepped pass the doorway of the house, and of course, the hours of passion we had indulged in during the nights where we declared our everlasting love for each other.

Most of all, I remembered an innocent promise made between the two of us when we were slightly pass adolescence. In an uncharacteristic act of maturity, I had both of us pinky swear that we would see each other again, no matter where or what, after our deaths.

Ah, there he is. With two cups of warm liquid in his hands as he carefully neared my weakening body. Setting the two cups on the bench beside my chair, he squatted before me, a concerned look on his face, and a question rolling off his tongue.

With a distant smile on my face, I merely raised the same hand that he used to clutch on like a lifeline and hooked my little finger with his, the promise we had made leaving my lips as my head drooped against the bark of the tree and my arm fell to my lap where it stayed and never rose again.

“I will see you again. Someday, somewhere.”

-Ende-

[1] – Summer festival

See you, Someday, Somewhere is a prequel to Find you, Someday, Somewhere