You're always on my mind, Seimei.
I don't care what they say. They'll never understand our relationship. Never understand our bond. And I know that they could never possibly comprehend what you mean to me. Do you really think I do your every bidding because you're my Sacrifice, because you're my Master? Of course not. I do it because I love you. Every time I told you that I meant it. And it doesn't matter that you never reply. Because I know you can hear me, and I know that as long as you're aware of how I feel, the fact that you have never said it back doesn't matter.
It's true. Every harsh word, every degrading order, every cut, bruise and bit of abuse you ever gave me? It never bothered me. It still doesn't. You're acknowledging me; you're taking the time to talk to me, taking the time to hurt me. And in my mind, that's practically affection. It's practically love.
Of course, others may worry about the state, or exact nature of our relationship. Kio does. Of that I'm certain. He questions me constantly, about why, why, why must I abandon him to spend all my time with that Aoyagi? Doesn't he mean anything to me? Don't I know that he's worried about me? And he wonders why I get irritated with him.
He can't understand that my only worry is your happiness. I live to serve you, and I serve you to live. I have no time for 'friends', no time for school work, no time for a life outside that of Beloved. But I don't need one. You are the only important person in the world. My Sacrifice, my Master, my God.
Every moment we've spent together, every battle we've endured and emerged victorious, every order you've given me, every injury I've ever received from you... They're all in my head. I can remember everything that has passed between us, because those are the things in life that matter.
And I'll never forget that day, the day we first met.
Ritsu-sensei introduced us, after you admitted to have been eavesdropping outside of the door. After all the niceties had been exchanged, you led me outside, saying that we had something important to do. What was coming, I could not have expected.
'Do you want it to hurt?' You asked. I told you it didn't bother me, but you decided that you wanted it to hurt. And then you picked up an old knife, and proceeded to, slowly, oh so slowly, carve your name, your true name, into my throat.
The scars will never fade, and never cease to exist. Just like Beloved itself, those marks on my neck will remain, strong and clear.
Yes, what a nice way to make sure that you're always on my mind.
