Even now, long after he had found Nagi again, Kai still dreamed. He dreamed of chains, of cold metal bars, of a warm body disappearing from his arms.
He woke up in the dark, and fumbled around on the bedside table for his cellphone. Finding it, he flipped it open, but hesitated. At first, after finding Nagi at the hospital, Kai would call him after having such dreams. He had felt a little guilty about it, but the pain and fear that he might lose his beloved a second time was too much to bear. Nagi, naturally, would assure Kai that it was perfectly fine, he wasn't even sleepy, just hearing Kai's voice made him so happy, Kai should call him whenever he wanted. It would be the truth, too. But Nagi had to start work early tomorrow (Kai had long ago memorised Nagi's schedule) and Kai didn't want to be responsible for making him too tired to do his job.
Kai closed the cell phone and put it back on the bedside table. He pulled open the table's drawer, reached in, and pulled out a little wooden box. The box currently contained two items: a four-leaf clover, dried and pressed, and a single black feather.
In that dark year after he'd thought Nagi had died, Kai had always kept the feather close to him. Now it was in some ways a source of greater comfort still. Kai took the feather out and pressed it against his face, its softness reminiscent of Nagi's gentle hand. Once, he'd believed that the feather was all of Nagi that had been left behind. Now, he thought, he knew the truth. When Nagi died, every part of him would vanish. But as long as Kai could hold this soft feather in his hands, Nagi still existed in this world.