She counts the small things she remembers about Azura.
She remembers the soothing sound of her voice, how her song could bring focus to anyone in a manner of mere seconds. She remembers the mystery that surrounded her, how it always felt as if it spaced her miles away from her despite when their lips were crashed together and her hand was in her soft hair - gasping for breath but needing the closeness and comfort of Azura.
Kamui remembers sleepless nights, the swift and small hands braiding and playing around with her hair, as she laid on Azura's lap and wept. Weeping for the deaths of the ones she loved most, and weeping for the deaths of the men and the families the Yato had slain itself.
The soft whisperings and constant reassurances that she knew Kamui did what she needed to, in order to bring peace to Nohr and Hoshido. That the Yato wasn't a death sentence, it was a sentence of peace and prosperity.
Azura was an enigma in and of herself. Of her abilities in battle, of her light and quiet speech, the way she'd give in and sing for Kamui after hours of begging. Her hair smelt of fresh rain and her eyes were as golden as Kamui's love for her was. Her love was gentle but it was passionate. Despite her siblings questions of Azura's love, and even Kamui's love for her, Kamui knows that Azura loved her. That she loved her and...
She wonders if Azura remembers her.
They met years ago, months before the war started with that fateful day. It was her voice that had drawn Kamui to her; her personality and the lack of any better word but intrigue that kept her for longer. What kept her there forever was Azura. Azura and Azura and fucking Azura.
She kissed Azura for the first time underneath a sakura tree in Hoshido. They agreed that it'd be a small trip, where they'd be normal for once and look at cute kimonos and buy red bean mochi for Sakura and Elise, and it was.
It was completely instinctual. They were about to leave before she suddenly grabbed her hand and kissed Azura. Her lips were chapped from the sun. Kamui had always thought she'd be cold, like water and ice, but she was so warm and so hot that Kamui first worried she had a fever. Azura broke the kiss first, face flushed and dark red, and simply asked her...
"Why did it take you so long, Kamui?"
And why does it take her so long to forget the moment? To push it aside, to burn it, to cast it aside. To never remember it again.
But Kamui wants to remember. She wants to remember everything.
She wants to remember the joy when Azura proposed to her, that their love was theirs and no one could disprove them of it. She wants to remember how Xander and Ryoma led both of them down the aisle, how Camilla and Hinoka were their best ladies. The happiness Leo showed for them, and the enthusiasm Takumi showed about the possibility of being an uncle.
She remembers, though, the hatred her army showed to her afterwards. She remembers the hateful names and the fights and people she consider loved ones and friends out right left as soon as they broke the news.
Azura said they'd come back, that they'd listen to reason and apologize.
They didn't.
Azura kissed away her tears as they days dragged on and no one came back, as they both watched as more and more people walked away just because of their love. Kamui remembers apologizing to Azura and asking if she wanted a divorce. She remembers the painful slap of Azura's hand telling her to quit it out and that she was being pathetic. That Azura loved her, that was what mattered, and she'd make the decision over a million times over and over again if it meant she'd get to kiss Kamui just one last time. Kamui remembers it was the only time Azura ever raised her voice against her.
They never had kids together, but they had dreams. They drew pictures and spent up hours after daylight had arised talking about them. Their first born would be Shigure, one who inherited Azura's lovely voice and her wants to be a pegasus knight. Kana would come next, he'd have eyes the same colour as Kamui and would have the optimism that neither of them could afford in that time of war.
Their kids would have Azura's beautiful sky blue hair, much to the water princess' protests. Kamui remembers laughing when Azura wanted both of their kids to have her eyes instead of her shimmering golden ones.
...
Kamui remembers vividly their last night together.
The possibility of death stared at them right in the eyes, the possibility that one of them would not be returning to that bed the next time they laid down.
Azura buried her face into the crook of Kamui's neck and tears quickly came afterwards. Kamui remembers struggling for words - to comfort, to love, to do anything to make her tears disappear. To hear her wonderful laughter one more time.
"Azura... Please, don't cry... You'll make me cry too."
"...I can't help it," Azura whispered softly, "Promise me you'll keep yourself safe, no matter what happens?"
Kamui shook her head, "I promise to keep you safe. No matter what happens."
"Then I guess we're at odds with each other," Azura turned to look into her wife's eyes, "I'd gladly die for peace. I've said that before, but don't think it means I want to die either..."
"You're not going to die," Kamui reassured both of them, "Kana and Shigure would be mad at you."
"I would be mad at you."
Azura laughed softly, "I don't want to make my beautiful wife mad..."
"I promise to keep you safe if you promise to keep me safe."
Kamui kissed her forehead softly, "I promise, Azura. I love you."
"And I love you, Kamui," Azura smiled softly.
Kamui remembers fighting, but doesn't remember how the battle when down. She doesn't remember the pain from her eye nor does she remember how she became half-blind and still is to this day. She doesn't remember the victory cries of her siblings, all alive and okay, as she watched Azura disappear.
She remembers more vividly than anything - more vivid when the moment Kana came into life with her new husband, more vivid than the moment she first met Azura, and more vivid than the moment she realized she was not Nohrian anymore - when Azura slowly vanished from the world. From Kamui, from their life, from peace, from everything.
Azura smiled at her wife softly.
"Kamui... Please, smile for me one last time..."
And her wife disappeared from the world entirely without one last trace she was alive. Not a strand of hair, an article of clothing, nothing except for her headband was left.
Kamui remembers because remembering is so much fucking harder than forgetting ever could be.
She thinks of Azura every time she looks at beautiful, beautiful Kana with hair colour just not the right shade of blue, and every time she closes her eyes. She loves her husband now and she always will but the memory of Azura breaks her down and rips her raw every time the date where she disappeared passes by them.
It's been fourteen years since the war ended.
Kamui remembers her.
Kamui remembers her everytime she looks in the mirror, and she knows Azura is there with her - and that she's happy for her and wishes her the best.
And Kamui wishes Azura the best as she promises to see her again. Not soon, but one day...
She promises they'll be reconnected.
She promises this as she wears Azura's headband and her memory for every day they aren't together.