And I Shut the Window

I turn to look at the open window where you have just arrived. You don't say a word; just remain in the window frame while our gazes melt into each other.

I haven't seen you for many years, and your presence surprises me. I did not expect you.

Still I don't hesitate long; I walk towards you slowly, swallowing loads of emotions with every careful step.

Rage.

How, how the hell have you come to the conclusion that you aren't loved by anyone? How the hell could you believe Mukuro's calculating hints to this, after all the time we, no, I spent on your side; following you into every spiteful thing you were involved in; showing as much patience and understanding towards you as I could and as nobody else could; supporting you, loving you.

Love.

I have been in love with you since I knew you, or even before that. At first I didn't know what exactly love means. I had only this melancholic happiness all the time we were together, I felt anxious whenever I was waiting for you to arrive or to reach you finally, I was always thinking of you; and only later did I realize that this is actually what they call love.

Sorrow.

I was sad when I sat down to watch the battle between you and Mukuro, because I already knew what the result will be, independently of who wins. I hated to know it, I hated to watch, I just wanted to turn away and cover my ears, locking it out from my body entirely. But I had to see it because I had pretty much to do with it, even if you didn't know it back then. I wanted to see the way I lose the meaning of my life. The way Mukuro manages to steal it from me.

Desire.

I thought of you a lot. Not only that way, but such occasions were also included. Sometimes it took me much effort not to embrace your small form, not to pin you down to the ground and kiss you, even with Youko's help if I had to. I never did so. I knew I would just scare you away, and I really didn't want that.

Mukuro managed to take you away from me, though. Mukuro was and orphan. Mukuro had suffered in her past. Mukuro was unloved. Mukuro was the only one who understood you. Mukuro was better.

If it is so, then why are you here now, little demon? You have been living in the demon world for years, so why have you returned? Why now? Why not then when you were not here to stop my tears that fell every night? Why not then when I needed your presence more than food, drink, air? Why are you here now? To say you're sorry? To show you're sorry? Or to say your goodbye you didn't say properly yet? Or, possibly, to ask for staying here because Mukuro has thrown you out?

You know what? That would serve you right. Maybe you would finally learn how to appreciate someone's friendship. Or, more likely, it would burn into you even more than it is now: not to trust anyone, ever, not a little bit.

Do so, jaganshi. Do so.

I reach the window, my look still locked within your flaming orbs. My hand touches your face gently. You tense but you don't protest.

I see your gaze soften slightly. It is beautiful. Your very being is beautiful.

I slide my hands down to your shoulder, and with a sudden movement, before you could prepare yourself, I push you out of my room, out of my life.

And I shut the window.

It has been open for you long, long enough.

You're far too late now.