I am back. I realised that shutting myself of from what I love the most is not going to help me. I don't know if anyone of the people who read my stories before are still aroung but.. maybe. ;)

Anyways... This is kind of a part 3 to my "8 long years"-series. I thought it might go well with the other two. I'm just getting started again so please don't be angry if it's not as it was. ;)

It has been 8 years now since it happened. 8 long years. It didn't surprise me though. I always knew that there had been feelings between them, but for a long time I wasn't sure whether it was really hate… or maybe even love.

It has been 8 years now. 8 long years. There are only two of us left now. It's weird, knowing that I will never see them again. The first few years after I met them I was sure that one day I would lose one of them. They just didn't seem to be able to live next to each other. I was so sure one of them would kill the other. And in the end it became the truth. But I never expected that the other would follow so soon.

It has been 8 years now. 8 long years. I still remember the dreadful moment. The moment I heard knocking on my front door and I went to open it just to… I can't even remember everything that happened after that. I know for sure that I was left with a dead body, lying limp in front of my door.
I still remember the other standing in front of me, looking so… fragile. So broken.
And the look in his eyes. I had never seen such remorse before. Such raw pain.

It has been 8 years now. 8 long years since the day on that graveyard. There weren't many people. We were four altogether. And then, not even all of us cared about the man in the casket. But we had all been so shocked. After such a long chase one finally got caught… and dragged the other down with him. I've only visited the grave once since then, but only to see another one being put right next to it. There had been more people the second time. A lot of people actually. Even his family had come, whereas the other's had never been seen again.

I talked to his mom about him. She was crying so much, like a lot of people were, and as she was talking my mind drifted off to the one we had buried just a week ago. Had there been someone crying over him? Had his mother been somewhere mourning the loss of her son? His father? His sisters? Maybe it was fate… I don't know that. But I know that it was most definitely unfair.

His mom had been devastated. And I think to this day she hasn't really been able to deal with the loss of her eldest son. Well why would she? Even I am still thinking about it every day. But just how are supposed to cope with something like that? Losing two of your best friend within a week. I mean we had been friends long ago I don't know if there weren't too far off in their own world to be able to call me their friend. I would like to believe we were friends until the end. But what kind of friend would that make me? They are both dead now.

It has been 8 years now. 8 long years. Today on this day 8 years ago I got the answer to my question. Love or Hate? It was easy then as it is now: Love. It had always been love.
Maybe they didn't understand it at first but in the end I'm sure they did. At least one of them. Just… It was just a second to late maybe. Maybe more than that but I don't know. I don't care. I just wonder why fate had been so cruel. They realized their own mistake. They realized that they had mistaken love for hate… They would have fixed it… I'm sure; they just never got the chance.

It has been 8 years now. 8 long years since the Raijin-gang lost two members. Since Kadota and I had to bury our friends.

Because on this day 8 years ago I , Shinra Kishitani, last stood in front of the grave of Shizuo Heiwajima, the man who killed himself over the death of his love, Izaya Orihara.

Thank you for reading! :)