A/N: This is a one shot about one of my favorite characters. It's short, and may just be fluff . . . but there's more to it than just that, which I feel makes it different. Please review!

Summary: I walked down the narrow hall, and readied myself to come face to face with the demon of my past.

Disclaimer: Don't own furuba . . . am only an obsessed fan-fiction writer . . .

Wasted

I walked down the narrow hall and readied myself to come face to face with the demon of my past.

What am I doing? What if he doesn't want to see me?

I might never be forgiven. And that scares me to no end . . .

Pushing those thoughts aside, I opened the door and stepped inside.

"Hello."

"Hello . . . Saki Hanajima."

I took a deep breath and hoped for the best. The sterilized room, the white, empty walls . . . everything seemed to remind me of the hollowness that had once enveloped me. But no more . . . please . . .

"How have you been?"

"Fine, just fine. The doctor says that next month I'll be ready to leave." The silence resumed, and we both sat in the room with nothing to say, no words of kindness or forgiveness.

"What are you looking for? Redemption?"

"I think you know the answer."

Silence again. The clock began to tick, and the time wasted away. Both our lives, wasted. . . was the grudge even worth it?

I sensed sad waves . . . pain, grief, and misery. A pain that was unbearable and altogether unforgettable.

"I was a fool . . . I was a fool for even coming . . ." I stood up and walked towards the door, keeping the tears locked inside.

Maybe, I'm not meant to be forgiven . . .

"No. That's where you're wrong."

I froze and turned around, watching his every move. He stood up and walked towards me.

"For the things unsaid for so long . . . for every day that you've come, waiting for an answer . . . I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry I put you through this. It's okay, Saki. It's time. I'm ready to move on."

For the things unsaid. . .

"I've always wanted to tell you . . . I'm sorry . . ."

I wrapped my arms around him in a warm, assuring hug. "It should be me telling you those things . . . gomen, my friend . . . I apologize . . ."

For all the time wasted . . .

It's only a memory.

The time spent, won't be wasted anymore.

And, for the first time, I cried in the arms of the boy I cared so deeply about.