Prologue
He lay on his bed, bandages covered almost every inch of him. His chest went up and down slowly, his heart beating to the beat of a slow march. Not life threatening – but worrying. She sat on the floor, her back against the drawers of his desk. She only had her sights on him, watching him still breathing calmed her guilt-ridden conscience. She placed her knees close to her chest, her hands embracing them. She bowed her head, deep in thought: What is she to do next? Can this continue on without him dying? As much as she'd like the latter to happen, chances are, sooner or later, he will receive his final blow – his death blow, and die. That is something she wishes would never happen.
The moonlight coming from his window, where his bed was next to, shown over his face. She could see the scars, the bruises and all others in excruciating detail. She looked away and buried her face in her arms, clutching the sleeves of her dress. Though she has seen this so many times, it always pierces her to see him this way.
There is only one thing she can do. No matter how hard it is, she must – if not for her own needs, then for his need to stay alive.
She stood from her spot and approached him. His eyes were shut and his mouth slightly open; his breathing still slow. She placed her hands on his face and traced each scar and scratch that she can see. Each time he fights, each battle he engages in, the scars and wounds get deeper. Each time she fights, there he was, always ready to save her. Now, looking back on everything, what has she done for him?
"I'm sorry," she whispered. Tears tried to force their way out of her eyes, but she forced them back. She bit her lower lip and held his hand. She could feel the cuts on his fingers, it made her shake. She tried controlling herself, if she didn't he would wake up.
"I have to go now. I just can't do this to you anymore. I've always used you, though never intentionally. You were always there ready to save me, even at the cost of your own life and all I could do was stand down and watch as you take each cut and slash that was meant for me. I don't want that to happen anymore. I have to be stronger. I've been fooling myself all these times that I have grown stronger, but in truth, I haven't – I haven't at all. You have always been testing yourself, making yourself stronger, that each time I see you, I could hardly recognize you as the boy I met a couple of months back. You've grown strong – too strong, that I can never compare to you. That's why when you wake up, I'll be gone. I'm sorry to do this again, but please, don't go after me. This is all I can do for you. It will hurt you as much as it will hurt me, but I know it's for the best. Thank you, so much. You made me feel like I was able to live a life that I never thought I could. Now will be the last time I will talk to you. I won't see you or go near you, until I feel myself worthy enough to face you again – when I become stronger. I'll take this chance, hoping I will get stronger, and one day, we can return to how things were. I'm sorry."
She squeezed his hand softly as not to wake him up. She slid her hand from his, but he grabbed hers. She turned to him to see if he was awake. To her surprise, he wasn't. She smiled to herself, he squeezed back. She just looked at him. A tear was able to force its way out of her eyes. She slid her hand from his and placed on her chest, her free hand covering it.
She made her way to his desk and wrote a letter, hoping that this time, he will understand. She folded the piece of paper, and placed it under one of his books. She went to the door and silently went out.
The next morning the sun rose, and sunlight seeped into his closed eyelids. He bolted awake after a strange feeling had donned on him. He hurried out of his room and went down to the kitchen. As usual his sisters were at the table and his father was somewhere, hiding to surprise him.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"Nii-san, she left last night," his sister replied as she served breakfast.
"She…" he was a loss for words. He pounded on the table. Then, out of nowhere a kick came crashing onto his face sending him to the floor.
"That's what you get for being weak," his father said, a mischievous smile on his face.
He lied on the floor. She's gone.