A/N: Dedicated to Sara. She gave me a list of characters I can write for and I was originally going to write something with Makishima instead but...I couldn't finish the story halfway through lmao. See how spoiled you are, Sara?!

Anyway, this is actually based on one of the relationships I'm in. No, we're not official so there is no cheating involved in my life lmao


One Day


He always smelled of cigarettes, of subtle cologne, and maybe perhaps another scent only unique to him.

His hands were rough, no doubt from his line of work, but they always held her gently, softly.

He never lingered for too long, only stopping by whenever he had time or whenever he was in the area. She had never minded, only answering the door and letting him in quietly.

She'd never ask why the sudden visits and there were never phone calls or even a quick message to let her know that he was coming by.

Most times, their time together was spent in silence — she minding her business while he sitting on the couch and smoking a cigarette or two. Sharing the bed and sleeping with each other had become a routine, sometimes passionate and desperate while the rarest times, slow and loving.

She never had a clue what the both of them were – not strangers, friends, or even lovers. But she made no attempt to ask him, to label the relationship the two of them had. It was just there, something that simply exists.

There were no goodbyes when he left or even promises that he would come back. It was usually just "See you" or even "Until next time". There was no specific day when he would come over. Sometimes it'd be a day, or a week, or even months until he finally came and saw her. She never minded, only opening the door for him with a curt greeting and small smile.

But what are we, was the persistent question that lingered in her mind whenever she was left to herself to ponder over the situation. She hated thinking about it but she knew it was something that was constantly in her mind. But she was too afraid to bring it up with him, too afraid to lose whatever this thing the two of them had the moment she did bring it up.

So like the coward she was, she let things progress like nothing was wrong. She told herself that it'll be fine, there is nothing to be worried about even though it gnawed on her, made her lose sleep on some nights.

Because at the end of the day, she knew that she was afraid to lose him one day because of his job and she knew he was afraid to leave her one day because of his job.

"Life is too short for regrets," someone once told her. "Don't wait the last minute...because by then, it would be too late."

She wished she had listened to that person, followed after their advice.

Because now, he was gone.

A year had almost passed and she hadn't seen or heard from him. She would have made attempts to reach out or contact him but she didn't know how to. And while she felt like some hole was left inside of her, life went on. Yet there were times where her mind would drift to him and she would think of different scenarios of what-ifs or how you would've done things differently.

But it was too late, she realized with much disappointment. He was gone.

It was exactly three years later, sometime after midnight, when a curt knock came from her door.

She was grumbling angrily under her breath, wondering who would wake her at this early hour of the day. When she swung the door open, she opened her mouth to demand an excuse why anyone would wake her up knowing that she was by no means a morning person. Yet the angry retort never came once she saw who it was that stood there, his tall form eyeing her disheveled look.

"...Shinya?" She called softly, uncertainly. She had to rub her eyes a couple of times to make sure that it was surely him standing in front of her, that it was not her mind playing tricks on her.

"Hey," he greeted with a slightly wry smile, amused at her shock. "Did I wake you up?"

"...Where have you been?" She asked rather than responding to his own question. The tall Japanese man looked hesitant for a short second but that quickly went away, replaced by that usual aloof expression he usually sported.

"Sorry," he said instead. "I've been...busy."

"Ah," she managed to say, eyes looking down. "I see."

She felt something brush against her cheek gently. Then they cupped her cheek, tilting her head up to look at him once again. She could see his eyes peering at her, looking strangely serious.

"I'm sorry," he apologized once again, grazing his thumb against her cheek. "For...leaving you hanging. For this."

"I'm sorry, too," she told him, leaning against his touch. "I was afraid."

His lips tilted up slightly at that because he knew how that felt. He was afraid, too.

"I wish I could've done things differently," he began. "But...we can't ever be together. You deserve a better life."

She didn't say anything to that, realizing what this all meant.

"Then, this is goodbye?" She whispered, sounding so tiny and weak.

"Mm, yeah," he affirmed. When she looked at him once again, his expression looked sad and heartbroken and it took every ounce of her strength not to cry at the sight.

"Perhaps not now," he began. "But I hope, one day, in another life, we can be together."

She smiled, albeit a little forced at that as she felt the first few drops of tears fall down her cheeks.

"...yeah."

Her hand held his hand that was by his side while the other gripped the hand that still held her cheek.

"One day, in another life," she repeated.

He smiled and slowly, he leaned down. She met him halfway and met his lips.

One day, we can be something more than this.

End.