"I was thinking of renting a movie," I announce.
Kohta raises his head and gives me one of his far-off stares. It reminds me of the one he gave me on the beach, all those years ago.
Does he remember me today? His memory has been unstable for a long time. My fault, of course. At times, he believes we're in our teens again and most of the people he loved are still alive. A cheerful smile always spreads across his face when he looks at me during those times, since he only sees Nyu.
Not Lucy. Oh, no. Not the girl who killed Yuuka and Nana and Mayu in fits of jealousy.
Most of the time, I'll oblige him. I'll widen my eyes and squeal, "NYU!" in the breathless, girlish voice that takes him back to happier times. Sometimes I can even coax him into making love. Last time I did that, we continued for ten blissful minutes before he remembered me. Those ten minutes were almost worth the disappointment of seeing his look of depressed recognition at the end. Almost.
He sighs heavily.
"Whatever you want, Lucy."
So he remembers me. This is a 'good' day, depending on your point of view. I shrug and say that it's up to him. I don't really care what movie we watch, so long as it makes him happy. Sad to say, I don't know what can do that anymore. I screw my mouth into a smile.
"How about a romantic comedy?" I suggest, half-jokingly.
The 'joke' part falls flat.
"Whatever you want," he says again.
I should have known better. 'Romance' and 'comedy' don't belong in the same zip code. I'm still determined to get him something, so I frisk through the drawers for my car keys. It's a twenty mile drive to the rental shop.
"That new horror movie just came out," I say. "What's it called again? The one with the demon?"
I can even cuddle up with you during the scary parts and pretend you're holding me.
Kohta's eyes don't move from the TV. He flips back and forth between two equally meaningless channels. Neither is useful for anything except occupying the small part of his mind that hasn't already disconnected from reality.
"Don't we have enough horror in our lives?" he asks.
It's subtle, but his eyes drift to the empty crib in the living room.
"You…didn't need to watch all that, Kohta."
He scowls. For a moment, his eyes light up with something approaching motivation.
"When you killed them, you mean? Let's call a spade a spade, Lucy."
I hang my head.
"Yeah…"
His shoulders sag again, and he deflates into the couch.
"At least Kurama had the decency to do it himself," he said. "What does that make me?"
My stomach tightens. I want to scream at him that he's nothing like Kurama, except that I already know what will happen. I'll scream and cry and he'll just sit there, passively waiting for me to burn myself out. Nothing will get through. Never mind that it's my fault, or that the sacrifice is necessary.
"I'll get the romantic comedy," I say.
He nods and turns back to the television.