To love means to let go. It does not mean that it will be easy, or that it won't hurt. It does. A lot. But if you love someone, truly love someone, then the only thing that you want is their happiness. You just want to see them smile, even if it means that your smile will be wiped off. Even if it means their death.
Everybody thinks that I am mad. That my decision was wrong. But nobody knew her like I did. Nobody knew them like I did. They didn't know what exactly he meant to her, or she meant to him. They knew that they were in love. But that's not all. Love is a word that can never completely describe what the two of them had for each other. The yearning they had for each other filled, not only their hearts and bodies, but also their minds and souls. They had this almost desperate need to touch each other. Nothing flashy, no. Holding hands, a small hug and maybe a few stolen kisses. Sometimes, I would walk onto them kissing each other. Clinging onto each other as if their lives depended on it. And maybe it did. I think that both of them, somehow, knew that it was going to end one day. That they will be torn apart from each other by the old, ruthless invader called death.
Maybe my decision was wrong. Maybe she could have continued living. Maybe not quite living, but existing. Like an empty shell, bereft of any soul or feelings. Without any meaning, motive, wishes, or dreams. Because he was all that meant anything to her. Not that we weren't special. She loved us. Yes she did. But not in the same way as she loved him. We were her friends, well-wishers, companions, classmates. We meant a lot to her. But he meant everything. He was her best friend. The only one she would ever sacrifice her life for, without a nanosecond of thought. He was her lover, her knight in shining armour. He was her soul mate.
People gave her condolences. They told her, that a day would come, when it will hurt no more. That she will find someone else, whom she will love and cherish. It was not true. I know it was not. No one could ever love her the way he did. No one could ever make her laugh the way he did. No one could ever protect her the way he did. No one could shake away her nightmares the way he did. No one could ever mean to her, what he did.
It was as if he carried a part of her with him when he died. A part of her that smiled, laughed, loved and lived. Everything ceased to exist for her the moment he died. How was I supposed to have asked her to live on, when I saw the raw pain and grief in her eyes? How could I ask her to live in a world in which he didn't live in? I saw her everyday, forcing herself through a mundane ritual called existence. I saw her go through everyday, hoping it would be the last. Death changes people, but it destroyed her. She was not all alone. She had us. But none of us were him. We knew it, so did she and she tried her best not to hate us for that.
The world knew of their story. The tragic tale of lost love. The love story of Natsume Hyuuga and Mikan Sakura, the two heroes of the Alice War. They heard of them, read about them. They glorified their achievements and pitied their tragic ends. But they just knew them as two people who loved and lost. As characters, not flesh and blood. Like the ones you see in movies. You could almost expect it to fade to black and names to appear.
I loved her. Maybe as long as he did, but maybe not as much as he did. I loved her, even though I knew that she could never be mine. I could have tried when he died. But then, how could I? I could have never loved her the way he did. I could never hug her the same way, never hold her the same way, never talk to her the same way. He was the one who mattered, the one she loved, the one she went to when she was upset. I wanted to save her, but nothing was left to be saved. I cared for her, so I wanted her to live. I loved her, so I let her die.
My name is Ruka Nogi. And this is my story.
A/U- Hey! I'm just a sucker for tragedies! so how was it? good, bad, worst?lemme know!