I wrote this story a while ago. It was, I decided after reading it over again later, WAY too out of character for my liking. So, I tweaked it a bit. Oh, well. I think Kumiko would still be damn emotional if Shin was on the brink of life and death and saying he loved her before he died. :) At least, I think so.


"No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true." - Nathaniel Hawthorne.

It was as he laid in front of her gasping for his last breaths of air and listening to the sirens in the distance, that life flashed before his eyes. And in all of those memories, in all of those final thoughts, she was a reoccurring existence. of them. This was because she was in front of him, in shock, looking so weak and helpless and in love. It was because his life hadn't really started until she'd entered it. It was also because she'd became his life after consuming his thoughts and his heart.

Earlier that day, before all of this had happened he'd asked himself a question. He'd asked himself when his life had changed so much? It was out of control now, exciting, dangerous, worth living. When had he lost the will to put up facades all the time? When had he found the confidence to truly be himself? When had he gotten so many friends? When had he lost control and given it all up to her? When had he fallen so deeply in love with her?

He had wanted to know who he really was. All of those masks that he'd glued on so perfectly, and all of those shields that he put up so desperately, they were now destroyed. He'd thought that he'd perfected them, he thought he was them. But then she'd came in with her mystery and made it all fall apart. She'd waltzed in and handed them her trust when she'd been warned not to. She'd taught them lessons and treated them right. She'd managed to save the people that were thought to be beyond saving. She'd managed to make cracks in his own perfectly constructed grey world. Then she'd continued to pry them open until he was the way he was now. Laying on the ground, smiling at her warmly, while thinking of all of these things.

Now, he knew the answer to every question. Life had changed when a certain woman stepped into his homeroom, full of secrets, danger, mystery and compassion. Life had changed then and there. He had wanted her to see him for who he was, so all of those fake faces fell. He'd opened up to her and showed her himself. He'd given up control when she'd trusted him. And he'd fallen in love with her on day one. This answer came from his heart. It wasn't influenced by the fact he was dying or because he was deeply in love with her. It wasn't because she was kneeling, sobbing, pleading. It was because it was the truth. It was the truth for him and so many others.

"The more I think it over, the more I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people." - Vincent van Gogh

It had been such a very dull life, before he'd met her. Filled with contradicting emotions, insecurity and weakness. There had been so many cracks he'd never noticed. He'd tried to perfect himself, to make himself different, beyond the grasp of society but he could never do that. He could not be cool and impassive when someone was in danger or when something wasn't fair. He couldn't be untouchable because he felt the need to let himself go to others and let them touch his heart.

She was the one who came in. She was the paintbrush on the blank canvas of his life and he'd allowed her to pour all her paint over him. She'd succeeded in drowning him in emotions he'd never explored or experienced before. She'd built up his life into such a beautiful piece of work and together, they could have been a masterpiece.

Even though, his painting was unfinished, he was happy it had been taken so far. He was happy that she'd influenced him so much. The life she'd coloured would end in crimson but still there were no regrets. Only his smiling face.

"To tell the truth is revolutionary." - Antonio Gramsci

He let all of his warmth and love come out in that smile. He watched the tears stream down her face, clearing trails in the blood-smeared cheeks. Seeing so many emotions displayed across her face was mesmerizing. He'd never imagined, that life could be this way. Nothing would ever replace her, ever. Not in any of his other lives.

"I love you, Kumiko." He announced, in his strongest voice, trying to reach out to her face. His voice was a saddening sound, full of love, happiness and sorrow at the same time. It was raspy, croaky and yet still so soft.

He felt his world change, after he finally confessed. He saw her eyes light up. He saw her begin to panic, begin to flush, and begin to cry harder all at once. Oh, he loved it when she was speechless.

"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind world, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest art of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around." - Leo Buscaglia

While so horribly confused, uncontrollable emotions started to swell up inside of her. She didn't know how he could smile during his own death. But he did. He got to die, protecting and confessing his love to the most important person in his life.

He only had one wish for her, before he died. And though, he couldn't say it and he'd never been one to pray, he prayed with all his might for his wish to come true. He wished that she would realize, why he was smiling. It wasn't just because he loved her, it was because he thought of all the lives she would touch in the future. He didn't ever want her to underestimate the power of her compassion and when he was gone, he didn't want her to give up teaching and changing broken lives.

Everything he had now was because of her. It was because she'd confided in him, asked him questions, got involved in his home life, got him involved in hers, listened, cared, and told him the truth every day they were together.

"I love you, Shin. So don't leave me. Okay? Please, don't leave me. Don't give up."

Though, he reached out for her, and smiled at her, once his eyes closed, she could not wake him up again. In her horror, let out a whimper, like a dog begging their master to not abandon them, or beat them.

She was an amazing person. He was glad to have met her. He would die happy.

"There is no road too long to the man who advances deliberately and without undue haste; there are no honours too distant to the man who prepares himself for them with patience." - Jean de la Bruyere

But horror would not freeze her. Her lips trembled, her slippery hands pressed over the hole in his torso with all her might. Trying to put as much pressure on it as she could while she was still so weak inside and out. She was begging him inside, throughout the whole thing, telling him to hold on. Her world began to fade within her.

"Don't leave me... Why are you letting go...? I love you, idiot…"

And so, the night passed. She sat in the dimness of the room, and although she was silent, unwilling to even open her mouth, her wretched crying and screaming was reaching everyone around her. It allowed all of their own emotions to stir and build within them. They were all going through torment, but none as much as her. They unsuccessfully tried to soothe her, with their words, their arms, hands and warmth but it would not touch her. None of their attempts made way into her comprehension.

Confusion, sympathy, love and more lingered in their eyes, their bodies and their hearts. There was also admiration. An immense admiration for the woman, whose life now seemed hopeless. She was persisting with patience. And though she was not certain, she would not give up. She wouldn't be able to get a hold of herself anymore.

And they let her act strong that night, in the arms of some Yakuza with a scar over his eye. And everyone watched while they slowly realized many things. It was now very official and known that the two of them loved each other so strongly it was stifling and reaching through death. The second was that they could not leave her. They would become strong in order to protect her as their friend did. They would stick with her until the end because they were all in love with her in some way or another. Third, she stood for everything a human should be. She was compassionate, truthful, trustworthy and optimistic but she could feel the deepest parts of heart-ache, desperation and love. A few more things were that they officially had this woman, and that young red-haired boy to thank for everything they had now. She was so strong physically and mentally it was scary and he had defended everyone by defending her. One blow and she would've been gone. Out of their lives, forever. Fifth, they needed a miracle. They craved a miracle but losing their friend was no less painful, than losing her.

The road ahead would be braved, strongly because they would all be patient and they would all have hope.

"Yesterday, I dared to struggle. Today, I dare to win." - Bernadette Devlin

The road that was thought to be so long, ended up being so short. Maybe, it was because of all the love and emotion that filled the air of that dim hospital room until morning. Once all the eyes had closed, another pair opened.

The sensuous feeling of fingers touching her face woke her up from her slumber. Fingertips slid across her forehead, and down the sides of her face. Soon, a thumb ran over her lips and she opened her eyes to look up at a dream. He was smiling at her. It was a smile that immediately sent warmth rushing through her body. A dream could not do this.

"We won."

His voice was a gentle whisper because he didn't think he could speak loud enough without it breaking. He stared at her until she nodded. Their eyes locked, passing information through a momentarily shared link. They smiled again, feeling warm in a cold room.

"I was worried, baka." She said, choking on her words and leaning in.

"Me too."

For a moment, she wondered if it was a bad thing to feel relieved when he said that. When he said it, sudden relief came washing over her. It was soothing to know that her worries hadn't been one-sided that all of her struggles had been shared.

Her heart felt lifted when he cupped her face in his hands and turned it to face his. He stared into her eyes, watching something form. He let everything fall, all of his shields, masks, walls and resolve to never kiss her. He wondered if her heart was bubbling over with impatience like his. He wondered if she'd given up all of her defences too. And in fact, she'd let all the reasons she'd had for ignoring his love disappear from her heart.

He gently pulled her face closer to his and she followed. He felt a tear well up in his own eye and then he felt her lips. They only grazed and he felt chills run over him. He closed his eyes, letting the tear fall before tenderly kissing her, wetting her lips with his love. She kissed back, feeling like she'd never felt before. Her first kiss and it was more than beautiful, more than gentle. She moaned involuntarily and let him deepen the kiss.

He let his thumbs rub her cheeks as he tilted his head to get better access. He let himself smile against her lips when her hand came up and put itself on his. He pulled back, watching her.

"Baka…" She spat, once again.

"So mean." He whispered and smiled at her.

He let go of her face but never her heart. He wouldn't let go of her, he would do anything for her and she finally returned his feelings. Today he'd won everything. He'd won the right to live again, the right to love her and have her love him back, the right to feel pain, to see his friends, hear them, be with them.

"But you were going to die for me." Her face fell, down to the bed as she remembered the scene. Foolish… Foolish Shin. He'd chased after her, to rescue her. He'd taken all of those slashes, gashes, and curses and then on top of that, jumped in front of a bullet for her.

"I love you, too." He whispered, running fingers through her hair.

She smiled, just a little bit after thinking of how insanely this love had come about.