Yogi forced himself to keep a calm expression when he saw the current date on his bedside clock. Running a hand down his face, he could feel the rough stubble on his cheeks from a few days' neglect, but the blond knew that he couldn't just sit around and mope like he usually did these days. Forcing himself to sit up and get out of bed, he could feel the familiar scar on his shoulder ache, reminding him of why this day in particular was so important.
Even though it had been over five years already, Yogi could still remember what happened like it had just occurred. He thought it was going to be a typical mission with Gareki, but neither of them had been prepared for the endless swarms of varuga that attacked them. Yogi himself had been so occupied on his own end that he didn't have enough time to react when a larger one lunged at Gareki, catching him off guard. He wished he could remove the image from his mind of what had happened next; of seeing the teenager's blood spill from his throat, and his shocked expression.
Everything after that was a complete blur. The next thing Yogi remembered was cradling Gareki's unmoving body against his chest amidst the slain varuga as he screamed at himself, at the monsters, and at the world, until the Second Ship and Akari arrived.
Yogi didn't want to leave his best friend's side, but eventually they managed to pull him away and Akari injected the blond with something to help him calm down. Yogi dreaded the moment when he had to explain to Nai what had happened, and why he couldn't have saved Gareki in time. Of course, once he had tried to explain what happened, the little one was completely understanding, albeit somewhat confused and sad. He didn't blame Yogi at all, but there were many times that the blond wished someone would have.
Dragging himself out of his memories, Yogi stumbled over to the bathroom of the small apartment he'd been living in since he left Circus a few months after that incident. He avoided looking at himself in the mirror, already knowing what he'd see. The same tired bags were under his now dull eyes, he had the same pale, almost sickly skin tone, and the lines around his mouth were the only remainder of his former smiles.
He freshened himself up a bit so he would be presentable for his old friend before locking his apartment up and heading out. Stopping by the same little flower shop at the edge of town like he always did, he bought a bouquet of white carnations from the kind young woman who worked there. She gave him a sympathetic smile, which he halfheartedly returned before leaving.
Out on the street again, Yogi kept to himself and walked along the familiar path to the small, almost forgotten cemetery just outside of town. He didn't have to go far into the somewhat ominous place, since it was rare for someone to be buried there.
The blond knelt in front of the familiar gray headstone, tracing his fingers over the inscription that was already embedded in his mind. It was nothing fancy, Gareki would've loathed that.
His name, dates of birth and death, and a short sentimental line about how the boy was lost too soon were engraved into the smooth rock, just starting to show signs of weathering. Yogi couldn't help the tears that welled up in his eyes as he read over it another time. He placed the bundle of flowers on the grass, wiping his eyes slowly.
"I'm sorry, Gareki… I know everyone says I should've gotten over it and forgiven myself a long time ago, but… I still miss you…" The blond's voice quivered as he spoke, overcome by grief. He could only wonder how the other would react to seeing him like this, a broken mess of a man; barely a shell compared to his former self.
He could imagine the teenager's response, how Gareki would snap at him and tell him to quit moping over something like this. How he would kick Yogi in the gut and shout to keep on living, smiling, and entertaining dumb kids with that stupid cat costume.
But Yogi hadn't felt alive since the last time he saw his best friend.