Abysmal and passive – pretty much the definition of his life nowadays, even allowing his visits to her – he lives on his visits, cooking and taking care of 'Aki. Were it not for those three, he would have forfeited any desire to live. He even kept a few pills in his medicine cabinet (of course, they were the leftovers of his past life) and Mitsuru would go crazy if she found out that he's using them again but he was really past giving a damn. It wasn't enough to distract him though, in fact, it only made the pain worse because he sees his own pool – if not larger – of regret and pain mirrored in Akihiko. Every little thing he does – cooking, cleaning, even talking for crissakes reminds him of her – which he was avoiding in every possible way. But he couldn't very well stop talking, right? Pain-killers it is, then.
They were the same – they were all the same. She leaving had taken a great toll out of all of them. Take the sun out of the galaxy and that was what it was like in the dorm. The center was gone. The laughter had stopped for a whole month. The tears and grief lasted even longer – stretching from mere weeks, to months, to years. Eventually, all of them moved on – it had to stop at some point right? It's not possible for something to continuously break if it was already shattered beyond recognition. It was true they all moved on, but they weren't as secretive as they would like to be. They had all taken a token from her possessions to remind them of her.
It was irrational, really, to grieve that long but she is iconic in her own way that makes it hard to forget her. And if her face was hard to forget – no one ever saw eyes that shone like hers or the exact same shade of red that was her hair ever again – her actions were twice harder.
In his mind's eye he saw her face yet again. It was different from the face he remembers because this one looked real – not vague or blurry – it was clear-cut, like seeing the sun without shades. Her eyes looked as if it held the greatest secret in the universe, as if she holds the key to someplace wonderful – paradise at the very least; she looked as if she wants to share it – a rebellious angel in other words. Her face was the same – youthful, jovial, forever sixteen.
She moves almost imperceptibly and when she does, the colors go away. Everything is white – all had vanished.
He twitches awake once again straight out of a blank dream. Even in the dim light that was two o'clock, he could faintly see a small rise to his left and he immediately shook it awake.
A mop or brown hair and a porcelain face peeked out of the covers and stared sleepily into the face of Shinjiro Aragaki. "Whutchu wake me up for?" she slurred and her eyelids drooped. She was a fairly light sleeper.
He looks at the face hard, his eyes straining to take in every plane, every angle and curve. "I never got a chance to say good bye," he says it too plainly, too callously.
She groans and burrows her face under the covers. They had this conversation a million times – always about her. It made the girl jealous of course, but she had long accepted the fact that she was only second place. Only a replacement.
She peeks out again and saw that Shinjiro was breathing deeply and looking away. His fists were clenched. She sighs and extends out her hand to poke his side.
"Want to talk about it?"
For a while, there was nothing but silence as Shinjiro chewed her proposal. "I don't think there's anything left to talk about," he says slowly and looked at her without turning his head. "Besides, I don't know where to start."
She sighs yet again and pushes herself upward. "You said you never got to say good bye – start with that." She prompted.
He blinked several times. "You know Akihiko right?"
She nods.
"He is...well, he is the boy friend." He swallows, hard. "I think he had always loved her right from the start. He knew her longer than I did. They told me she fell into a coma at the school rooftop – but before that, Aki said some things – it was silly and pretentious for him to talk about a future with her when...when at the time she was unwell."
"And...?" she bunched up her quilt and made a pillow out of it as she made herself comfortable by his side.
He frowned. "At the time, I felt as if I was cheated. That he somehow stole her from me. It's like that idiot is already staking his claim. Like he already owns her." He said vehemently.
He felt the girl beside him wince at his words and settled down again when he touched her forearm.
"That girl...must've been beyond amazing to have pleased you and Akihiko."
"And various unknowns," he breathed and they both laughed.
They stopped laughing but it left Shinjiro elated because it reminded him of better times. When everything was simple – a cup of tea and the sound of her voice mixed in with the night sounds and her occasional laughter: paradise. He never wanted it to end.
"Minako...she's...a pain." He, for the first time, said it aloud in front of anyone who isn't Akihiko. "She makes me sick to the bone but...I can't let her go. You see, it was very awkward – I, didn't believe in the prospect of love at the time and she...threw that belief out the window. I detested her for altering me but she was persistent and that angst eventually evolved into something different. She spun me around and around and left me hanging, panting for breath. She made me believe that she loved me."
"Didn't she?"
He exhaled sharply; the sound whistling between his clenched teeth and past his trembling lips. "Fuck – hell if I know. She flits – she never hovers, never settles. It's like, she's giving me all these mixed signals but when I see her at school or anywhere for that matter, she's always with some other guy. She's too…friendly. I never got the chance to tell her I loved her too." He frowned. "Come to think of it, that bastard Akihiko beat me to her."
"Akihiko always seemed to me as the better fighter," she teased.
"Don't you start with me," he said gruffly.
She giggled lightly. "But, seriously, didn't you ever try...you know, with her?"
He was silent for a moment.
"I couldn't betray Akihiko." He said simply and gazed at the clock on his nightstand, quietly musing. "I can't do that to him...steal her. That boy went through a lot of hardships and that year when he met her seemed like the end of his being...cold and distant. Mitsuru and I prayed for a girl like Miki and here is Minako. Someone better. At the time, I was glad they had each other. The girl seemed to have big issues too. I never even knew I needed a girl like her too! It was only when she actually came into my life that I started to question….but,"
"But...?" she says, her voice thick with sleep.
He frowned again, drawing out the words from his unwilling brain. "I coveted her. When I joined – the er...dorm. I...ah, fuck this! I can't explain my feelings." He shivered when he said the word feelings as if that made him seem less masculine and more feminine.
Quiet silence stole across the room.
Something soft touched his arm. He looked down at the brown-haired girl and for a second saw all her features replaced with Minako's.
"Quit being stubborn and cry already." And for a second it wasn't his girl friend's voice he's hearing. He's hearing hers.
"Quit being stubborn and cry already Shinji." Minako had said when the both of them were the only ones left awake in the dorm. "We watched the movie about Hachiko and yet you refuse to shed a tear? I'm crying even though I watched it for a thousand times already."
He laughed. "I don't think it's that touching."
Minako shook her head. Her red eyes were tearing up. He wanted to brush them away with his fingertips or even just tell her she needn't cry but he can't. It wasn't in his place to tell that. Someone already filled that place. "He waited for his master. Even though he's dead." Her voice was warbling and he knew it was only a matter of time before her tears fall. "Even though other people wanted him to move on he stayed. Why isn't that touching?" She sniffled.
Shinjiro simply shrugged. "I don't think it's genuine. He waited because the director told him. That's all."
"You're such a realist!" Minako shouted and was crying fully now.
Shit. He was going to pay dearly for this but. What. The. Heck. It was quick, so fast you couldn't see the movement. But he was sitting a few feet away from her and then suddenly he had closed the distance and had pressed his lips into her open mouth.
"I'd wait for you though, Minako. Always." He whispered against her lips.
When his mind had left the memory, his eyes were wet.
"Finally. You're crying. I've waited years for you to do that. How does it feel to release your emotions?" He knew she was teasing but concern lay below the surface.
Shinjiro couldn't describe it. It was a very different feeling compared to actually talking. It was a different kind of emotional release. It was tangible, real, and comprehensible. There was no need for words. There was something about the feel of salty tears running down his face and into his open mouth for him to actually taste the bitterness of his emotions. His heart was beating faster now, his breath was getting laboured, but it was a good kind of vulnerability.
After Miki's death, Shinjiro hadn't shed even a single salty tear.
"I guess I feel, light. Not moving on – or healing. Just light. I know I'll move on someday but not tonight. Not anytime soon." He closed his eyes and willed the tears to stop.
"Her dying really made you that depressed huh?" she asked.
"Not dying! She's still in a coma. She can recover." He spat out the words and instantly regretted them as he saw the pain flit through her eyes when he opened them to look at her. "I'm sorry." He gently laid a hand over the top of her head and mussed her hair.
She relaxed under his hand. "I sort of get it though, Shinji. If I were in your shoes and I lost my soul mate I probably wouldn't dare date ever again. I'll live alone – searching for him. For the one that I lost. But that's the difference between us – and also the reason why I love you. You're brave. You moved past that pain and found me. I'm glad for it in a weird, sort of way because if it weren't for her going into a coma, you wouldn't have met. And I'm glad we met. I'm glad I met you."
He tried to see the logic in her words – he really did but her words hit him harder than any train could ever do. I'm glad for it in a weird, sort of way because if it weren't for her going into a coma, you wouldn't have me. He wanted to hurl but he fought it back. He loved her, didn't he?
She suddenly leaned over his lap and kissed his cheek. "I know you love her. You still do. I could see it." She gently surmised. "And I know I won't be half as good as her but I'll wait for you."
"You deserve someone who will love you fully." He found himself murmuring.
"I deserve someone like that yes. But I want someone broken," She smiled and pulled her face away to look at him and for the second time that night, he saw Minako's face in her.
"So I can fix him." She finishes.
Another memory, so vivid and bright enters his mind and he is faced with a new kind of hallucination. A bright white backdrop blurs before his eyes and it is only Minako he sees. She is still sixteen, with a crown of flowers encircling the top of her head – she is smiling in that same smile he loves on her. Her eyes or roses were gentle as they looked at him.
"Goodbye, Shinji." She says but it is in a sad, resigned tone. She blows him a kiss and vanishes before he could even take a step forward and drag her out of his dream.
As he settles back into reality, her words – unspoken words – ring in his ears. You kept me alive for a while Shinji. All of you did. Now it's her turn to keep you alive. Let her do it. You know I'll always love you right? Pass the message on to Aki too.
"Let's go back to sleep." He pulls her in for a hug and her face breaks out into a triumphant grin.
"Sleep sounds good. Did you get a chance to say goodbye? Or do we have to visit the hospital again?"
"Yes, I did. And well go to the hospital whether I did or not." He closes his eyes and for a while – hallucinations, as he would like to remember them later – he saw Minako's visage lean over him and gently placed a kiss upon his cheek, leaving an imprint of it in his cheek and the smell of sunflowers and pancakes lingering in the air.