Wake. Ache. Sleep. Repeat.

This is all you can do, isn't it?

You were happier before than you could've ever been before three months ago. Even if the one you loved was in the wrong, you still helped him.

Although, you couldn't just leave him alone. Joining him was inevitable once he called you, not anyone else, to be his right hand man, his partner.

Those memories replay in your head while laying in bed each night, the heart of yours overflowing with ache, your mind overtaken by regret.

How had you been so ignorant?

Of course he was just using you, the person who had admired him for over ten years, how could you ever refuse him with that sort of emotional hold towards him?

Even as you remain glued to the bed each night, an overflow of negative emotions pouring out from inside, you remember.

Gripping the same sheets he would sleep in with you, holding his lean build each night against you, afraid he would leave otherwise. Eyes stinging, salty droplets brimming at the edges of your pretty green eyes, as he would say. They plopped down from those so called beautifil emerald orbs, forming wet marks onto the exact pillow he laid his on each night alongside you not so long ago, his hair always had been tangled up in a mess of platinum locks tipped with dark teal while deep in sleep, wondering what he would dream about as you fell asleep.

It was impossible to undo all those moments, and to never to create those memories, of that time at least. The memories of the best time of your life, so sweet and happy.

You loved it more than anything.

Now, all they caused was the present to seem even worse, each recall of that timeand the what came afterwards hitting deeper, abusing the already open wounds of before, a chance to heal never allowed to be given.

Don't you miss being an energetic schoolboy, practicing alongside him each day on your personal technique with the older boy, your role model, your continous subject of unrestrained admiration.

He had always helped you during those times, turning your pitiful 12 year old self into a striking superstar. You used these thoughts over and over to convince yourself, that it was finally your turn to help him, to be of importance to him, so you took the job.

In the few months you worked, (was it really work, anyway?) you stayed at his side at all times, taking care of him as needed and assisting him with every decision, the first to console and the last before taking effect.

You were the one who he would contact to relieve any pressure of work, or at times he hit a hard spot in a certain situation. He had been Holy Emperor, of course.

Each night he would arrive home with you, and allowed you to touch him anyway you desired, as long as he was satisfied in the end. You held him in your arms tightly after, just enough to know he stayed there, with you. As you gazed towards him in his state of peace, in your hold, heart fluttering as you focus on his various handsome features. He was yours, at last, after all these years of waiting and hoping.

You finally mattered to him, as much as he always had to you, and those times couldn't have been any better. Just as if all your dreams all came true at once, and what dream was without him to be complete?

You loved him, remain as such, and eternally will be as long as breaths continue to be taken and heart beats repeatedly, and you despise yourself for being so attached to someone you could never truly have for himself to love for yourself, and have those precious thoughts returned back wholeheartedly.

But he left. The whole organization disbanded, forcing all had to leave. The situation wasn't bothersome, you knew he wouldn't simply abandon you that quickly. Those thoughts were crushed to the ground, the realization more apparent with each day that had passed.

Not like you put any effort to keep up with, either. Too scared with chasing him away with the fear of coming off too clingy towards him. Maybe it was your fault, afterall, at no time contacting him afterwards. Of course the space between you two would enlarge , becoming the size of the universe, too large to ever cross, and evergrowing to this day.

Sometimes you see his face in the news once in while. His deep brown eyes gazing into you from the TV scrren, pale blond hair tied up and pulled behind him, several stray strands falling onto his tan face, while others were tucked behind the cave of his ear. The way he stood, relaxed , hands in his varsity jacket and collar popped up, his confidence and strong aura could be felt oozing from the screen from the photo of him and the other two of the main trio at his sides.

He looks happy.

How would your mother react at the state you were in? Does it even matter, she's gone anyway. This is the mess of your life, any purpose to do anything destroyed without his presence, his connection in the matter.

Why does everyone you love end up leaving you, Toramaru? Ignoring you? What have you done for people to be so cruel, unforgiving and shutting you out? Is there anything you haven't done yet? You've attempeted to appease others all your life, in the end adding together to nothing, extra effort resulteing in nothing in return.

Honestly, it doesn't matter to most, if not to everyone. Unlike you, who always cared, always thought, always wanted. Do you still care now, after it all?

In one way or another, you wound up to this point. Each morning driven out of bed to continue the pathetic life of yours, body on autopilot as your mind wonders along with your heart, reviving the pain and ache of the past. It's a wonder you're able to still move one, signals being forced out to your muscles to move as necessary to keep you alive.

How else are you supposed to live? This is all you can do, isn't it.

Wake. Ache. Sleep. Repeat .