Inspired by this fanart: elfgrove tumblr com post/49311155430
It didn't come about in some big movie special style heart-wrenching public event. There was no dramatic collapse on stage in the middle of a concert. Not even in a practice session. He had just been slowly getting more and more tired during practices and after concerts. He'd chalked it up to lack of sleep. Then maybe an oncoming cold or other virus. He didn't even dare think the word 'relapse'.
He'd had bad health when he was young, but there had been The Surgery followed by physical therapy. By the time he'd made it into Saotome Academy, relapse had been such a small percentage possibility at that point as to be negligible Natsuki had known him for years, so he knew about the past infirmity, but never made an issue if it. He'd never told the others. It didn't need bringing up. It never would.
They were in the middle of a STARISH concert tour, the roommate splits from their early days at the academy were still observed as much out of habit as out of the convenience of knowing each other's idiosyncrasies in a shared space. So when morning came and he couldn't seem to wake up, it was Natsuki at his bedside. It was a slow process to realize something was wrong, really wrong. Natsuki's slowly growing panic was in his eyes but not his voice as he came to the conclusion with Syo. He wasn't just experiencing lazy morning after a long night kind of sluggish. His body wasn't responding correctly. He couldn't... Just. Get. Up.
Natsuki's voice cracked as he asked the question, the last word a movement of the lips without any sound behind it, "Do you think it's a — relapse?"
The word was a terror neither wanted to voice.
Syo spent the day in a hospital bed, poked and prodded as the doctors ran tests and drew blood. Natsuki stayed by his side. They'd avoided telling the others they'd slipped out of the hotel and to a hospital for as long as they could as per Syo's request. But when noon came and passed and he still felt kitten weak despite the IVs of supposedly restorative junk being pumped into his system, there was no keeping it from the rest of STARISH for another hour.
The concert scheduled for that evening was postponed to not unreasonable fanfare, citing an unnamed member of STARISH being ill, and nothing beyond that. Postponed, not cancelled.
No one said the word 'relapse' when all the members of STARISH and Haruka crowded into his private room either. Syo was certain Natsuki had informed them of the possibility out in the waiting room, but so long as the doctors still weren't certain, he didn't want to hear it. It felt like a jinx, a curse word. He'd managed to convince Natsuki to hold off on calling Kaoru until all the tests were in.
One day became two and then three, and the tour was canceled pending further notice.
Test after test came back, confirming the relapse.
His waking in the hospital bed was a carousel of visitors. Haruka, Kaoru, STARISH, Tomochika, Ryuuya Hyuuga, Ringo Tsukimiya, even Shining Saotome a few times. Haruka, Natsuki, and Kaoru were he ones there most often. Surprisingly, Ren was there the next most often, matching Otoya for frequency of visits.
There were talks of surgery again. The odds were even worse this time around. Relapse was rare, and recovery from it even more so.
No one else said anything, but Shining Saotome was making plans to reorganize STARISH to operate without him, altering lyrics and dance steps. "Just in case" — of course. If this was another test, it was even less funny than when Saotome had nearly run off Haruka after first announcing their debut. Syo hated him most days. Even gruff Ryuuya had the sense to talk about upcoming "Fighting Prince" episodes and how the writers were waiting to get an all clear to bring his character back in for another cameo storyline.
He had to get better. He couldn't stand the hurt that was in the eyes of his most important people.
Haruka brought him new music and they wrote lyrics together. Natsuki talked to him about everything from Piyo-chan products he'd found going through old boxes to the latest individual projects of STARISH. Kaoru was the hardest, he was mostly silent and broken sitting in the room with Syo, just letting the hours pass in unspoken fear and pain.
He'd stopped counting how many weeks had passed. He didn't know what the media was saying or how much they knew. One thing the Shining Agency was turning out to be great at was keeping the media far away from Syo.
"I'm getting The Surgery."
Natsuki froze arranging the flowers by the window. "Didn't the doctors say they had more tests they wanted to-"
"It's all avoidance. I've been here before Natsuki." Syo didn't look at him, didn't know if Natsuki had turned to face him. "The Surgery's the only chance of getting my life back."
It was never 'surgery'. It was always 'The Surgery' in his mind, all capital letters and bold font. It was hope and the end of the world rolled into two words.
"You have a life now." Natsuki knew him better than this, and there wasn't the fight behind his words that Syo knew he would have to deal with when he told Kaoru. If he told Kaoru.
It was true of course, he could live for a couple of years in relapse even without The Surgery, but it would be survival, not living.
"A life. Not My Life. I can't do it again, living most of my days in a hospital bed and never singing or dancing, never seeing the stage."
"I know." The mattress sagged against Natsuki's weight as he sat next to Syo. The two simple words were filled with understanding, and the fears he wouldn't voice in front of Syo.
The hand that reached over to take Syo's was shaking, and Syo turned towards Natsuki then. His expression was twisted up with the pain he was trying not to give into, trying to be considerate of Syo despite his own feelings on the matter. Syo leaned into Natsuki's chest, and the arm that wasn't being used to hold his hand wrapped around him, the longer limb seeming to envelop Syo. Everything about Natsuki was shaking, and he was holding back his normally exuberant strength as if he was afraid of crushing Syo. He probably was afraid of just that. Syo leaned even harder against Natsuki in response wishing he had thought of something comforting to say. His arm that should have been free to hug back was awkwardly left at his side with the IV stuck in it. Tethered to the bed, a captive to machines and drugs and his own body.
"I'm not giving up. I'm not going to leave you, or STARISH. I can't."
Natsuki's head buried itself in the crook between Syo's shoulder and neck, no words coming.
"I've got a life now that I can't let go of. So I'm not going to. I'm going to take it back."
Still no words came.
"I refuse to lose to this."
"...I can't... lose you."
"You won't. I won't. I've beat this before, and I will again."
The stage lights went down, leaving the stadium lit only by the freebies handed out to the crowd. Haruka's voice came over the speakers, introducing herself and asking the audience to take out the sealed bag and light the special gifts that had been placed under every seat in the stadium. She spoke of Syo, and when her voice broke on the silent tears, Ryuuya took the microphone and finished the speech she'd written while Tomochika wrapped her in an embrace.
The crowd clapped slowly as the remaining members of STARISH filed back onto the stage, each carrying a live candle that was dimly echoed in the LED candles that had been provided to the audience.
They sang.
Haruka had written the music, of course, but Syo had penned the lyrics from his hospital bed in the weeks leading to The Surgery. No one but Haruka and Syo had known about the song until after he had passed. The Surgery a failure. It echoed the words Syo had wanted to give to his brothers in music.
You gave me life. I'll fight to be with you again. The bonds we made will never break.
There was no faking the tears on the faces of the STARISH members during the last song of the memorial concert, held in the venue Syo had never made it to. None of them heard the roar of the crowd as they came together and waved their goodbyes before exiting the stage.
STARISH would go on, but it was forever altered.
Syo found himself staring down at Kaoru in the hallway of the hospital. The doctor was walking away, speaking quietly with their parents. Kaoru was curled in on himself in the middle of the hall, sobbing loudly.
Syo didn't have to ask what this meant. The Surgery had gone wrong. He wasn't waking up again. Ever. He didn't have any words to make it better. He didn't know how to console or apologize to his brother. There was no fixing this. He'd left Kaoru behind, even though he'd never meant to.
"You could have waited," The words were a hoarse croaking noise between the sobs. "I was going to be a doctor. I was going to save you."
"I couldn't. I'm sorry Kaoru. I couldn't."
"I was going to save you, Syo."
Syo closed his eyes, unable to keep looking at his heartbroken brother. He knew that Kaoru wouldn't have been able to graduate and get experience quickly enough to do anything for him, but the facts didn't really matter right now. Syo's loss had reduced him to a ball of pain that was trying to decide between being angry at himself or angry at Syo. Syo hoped Kaoru chose to be angry with him. His brother didn't deserve to hate himself, and it had been Syo's choice to move forward and risk the few years lived in pain in exchange for a chance at health.
It had been his decision. No one else's.
"I'm sorry Kaoru."
"Please. Please wake up, Syo."
"I'm sorry."
"Syo..."
"I know, Kaoru. I know. You're going to save people."
There were no words anymore, just heaving sobs from his mirror image that huddled alone in that sterile hallway.
"Just not me. I wouldn't let you save me. I'm sorry."
Haruka had passed out the music sheet with the cleanly copied version of the lyrics she and Syo had worked on together in his hospital room. They were all together, herself, Tomochika and the remaining members of STARISH, in the same practice room where she had first proposed the group. She was holding herself together admirably, and so were the boys.
"I wrote this music for Syo, and showed it to him at the hospital." She hugged herself tightly, her hands no longer burdened with the need to not crumple the papers she had carried. "He wrote the lyrics. He wanted to keep it secret. To sing it with all of you when he got better." She choked down a sob. "It was supposed to be his welcome back song."
"But now it's his farewell," Otoya said softly.
None of the other members of STARISH seemed to be able to find words as they read over the music and the words Syo had written for them. To them. Syo's last words to them carried in a song.
"Can you," Otoya's breath hitched as he looked to Haruka after reading through it twice and he had to restart the sentence. "Can you play the music?"
Haruka's eyes were filled with tears, but she smiled and nodded, taking her place at the piano. She began to play, and Otoya stood next to the ebony baby grand and began to sing, the first time Syo's farewell song left the page was through the wavering voice of his red haired friend.
Otoya smiled as he sang, even as the tears came. It was a good song, and his voice grew in confidence even as his expression crumpled under the weight of what the song was for him. A last farewell from a dear friend. He brought a hand up to cover his eyes as the tears kept coming and continued singing.
Syo, invisible to the rest of the room, leaned against his back, smiling gratefully.
"Thank you, Otoya." He wanted to cry too, but couldn't. "You're doing great. Thank you."
The other members of STARISH slowly joined in, supporting Otoya's voice. The last to join was Syo, singing the sixth part to the song that they would never hear, but it mattered. It mattered to him, even if no one else could hear.
"Thank you Otoya. I knew I could count on you for this."
"I think Kaoru blames us, blames STARISH, for taking you away from him."
He was alone in his room, speaking to the empty air.
Syo sat across from him, surprised by the words. He hadn't known what to say to Tokiya. Making his goodbyes felt important, but there had always been a distance between him and Tokiya. Tokiya had been the last to fold into the group, and even though he'd bonded strongly with them once he had, the personal connection between he and Syo hadn't been as deep.
"He shouldn't." Syo whispered back, knowing Tokiya couldn't hear him.
"I wonder if he might be right. I know how hard it is to give up music once it's in you. Even when it isn't what you thought it would be. Even if it's painful or risky. You can't give it up. Never entirely." He pulled his knee up to his chest and his hand gripped his forehead, exerting pressure in an effort to stop the tears from coming. "Maybe we did. Maybe he should blame us."
"No one made the choice but me, Tokiya."
"How can we- How can I ever make amends for that?"
"I wanted to be here. I wanted to live. Really live, and STARISH was everything I wanted. I wouldn't have been myself if I hadn't tried."
The effort became useless and tears started coming down Tokiya's face.
"I just... I wish you were still here. It doesn't feel right."
"I'm still with you. I'm right here."
"Part of STARISH is missing and we all feel it. We need you," There was a pause as Syo realized Tokiya couldn't bring himself to say his name anymore. "We need you. I don't know how STARISH-"
"I'm here. I'm sorry this is the best I can manage." Syo leaned against Tokiya's shoulder, wishing he could impart some sort of comfort across the distance between them. "I'm still with you, and you have to keep STARISH going. The others look to you to lead."
"We can't forget you, and Haruka is sure you wouldn't want us to give up either."
"Haruka's right."
"But it's hard."
"I know."
It was the first Obon Festival after his passing, the holiday hadn't been that long after actually, and Syo found himself watching over Masato. His family, for lack of a better term for what these people were to him, were still mourning, and trying to make their lives move forward again. But today was the first day of Obon, and it wasn't a day for moving forward.
Masato was the traditionalist out of them, and Syo wondered if he would do anything for him this Obon, or if he would wait until at least a year had passed. He found Masato in his room, carefully constructing an Obon lantern boat. He worked in silence, all his feelings going into the calligraphy he was trying to make to decorate the sides. Syo recognized some of his own lyrics on the margins of some of the reject sheets, and couldn't help but smile. Masato was so kind in his own reserved way. He hoped he was opening up to someone.
Syo sat through hours of silence with Masato as he worked on the lantern, offering cheerful commentary and silent companionship in equal measure. The amount of effort Masato was going through for him was flattering.
The sun set and the other members of STARISH came to retrieve Masato. They all wore their academy uniforms, the navy and gold pinstripe jackets from the first days they had all met, unknowing that Haruka was going to bring them together into a greater whole, not knowing the hole it would create when they lost one of their number.
Together, STARISH walked down to the nearest river Obon Festival where people were already setting the floating lanterns out on the river. People stared, some knowing who they were and recognizing enough not to interrupt, others not knowing, but staring at the collection of beautiful young men and two women who reverently carried a handmade lantern down to the water's edge.
Masato was the one to go to his knees and actually place the delicate boat in the water. The others stood flanking him in a semi-circle, watching the boat float out onto the river to join others like it.
Syo sat, stretched out against Masato's back, watching the faces of his friends, his family that was not blood. He felt Masato's back tremble as the tears came, and took off his hat, softly singing his song, his last song, to his mourning friends. It surprised him when Masato took up the words, voice ringing in at the same spot that Syo was in the song, as if he could actually hear him. He didn't dare stop to see if Masato reacted, if it was coincidence he didn't want to know. He chose to believe that some part of the Toro Nagashi was allowing him to sing with them one last time. The others took up the song, and for the first time in months, STARISH felt whole again for a brief few minutes.
Syo had been looking to find a moment alone with Ren for a week after the Obon Festival, still not knowing how to say goodbye to him. Where there had been an unspoken distance between himself and Tokiya, there had been outright antagonism between himself and Ren. Even when Ren had visited him in the hospital as often as Otoya had, it hadn't let up. Ren teased him as though nothing were wrong, calling him a midget and complaining about Syo missing practices.
Syo had been grateful for the sense of normalcy it provided. Everyone else had tip-toed. Ren had been the same as always, if only more present.
His relationship with his brother Kaoru had always been colored by his childhood frailty. They'd never been rough and tumble nor mocking of each other when they were young. Syo's health hadn't been able to handle it. Between the eldest being bed-ridden for much of their childhood and the younger guilt-ridden by his comparative health, they hadn't formed any practices of brotherly antagonism. He wondered now if Ren's behavior was like what he and Kaoru would have been without the health problems. It seemed to match TV dramas' ideas for siblings. Loving antagonism.
He found Ren in a corner of the rooftop of his apartment building. The elder boy was curled in on himself, not sobbing quietly as Masato and Tokiya had but weeping loudly, his fingers digging into his own scalp as if something in him was trying to tear away and he was trying desperately to hold it in. Ren's body shook and his voice carried pain that Syo hadn't realized that he held. It was a shock, seeing Ren like this.
As Syo got close, he heard something softer under the weeping, choked mutterings of things he would probably never say in front of the others. Not now at least, "Dammit midget. How could you?"
Syo crouched down in front of him, smiling gently. "I'm not a midget, you big jerk."
"I know you're there. Dammit Syo, say something! I know I heard you!"
Syo started for a moment. No one had heard him. He was trying hard to say his goodbyes, but one of the heart-breaking things was that no one ever heard him. Not once - well, except that night a week ago at the riverside.
He reached out to pet Ren's hair, sure that the older boy wouldn't feel it, "Obon?"
"You were singing with us right? You're still with us."
"Yeah. I'm still here Ren."
"I'm not going crazy. I know I heard you. Just say something, anything. PLEASE."
"I am. You just can't hear me Ren." Not for the first time, Syo cursed that he couldn't cry in this strange inbetween state. He wanted to cry alongside Ren right now.
"Please. I'll even stop calling you midget. Just say something!"
"Don't you dare," Syo found himself realizing as much as it usually annoyed him, there was something fond about the way Ren directed the word at him, and he hated the idea of losing it.
He ruffled Ren's hair in frustration at his inability to communicate. The body-wracking cries paused.
"Syo?" Ren's face tipped up, eyes unseeing, but he stopped moving as though he felt the resistance of Syo's hand on his head. "Is that you midget?"
Syo's smile faltered and came back bigger than it had been the moments before. He ruffled Ren's hair again. "I'm right here jerkwad. I'll always be here in some way."
Wonder was plastered on Ren's face for a moment as one of his hands trailed tentatively to the spot where Syo's hand rested. His hand passed through Syo's though as if there were nothing but thin air, and Syo pulled back, discomfited by the sensation. Ren's expression fell. "I still think you're with us midget. I can't not believe in that."
"I miss you too, Ren."
"Dammit midget, we need you. You better be there."
Syo laughed, that was more like the Ren he knew.
He'd been avoiding this goodbye. But he had sworn to leave Haruka for last, to thank her for communicating his song to STARISH, but this one was so hard. How could say goodbye to Natsuki? Natsuki needed him in a way that none of the others did. He'd promised Natsuki he wouldn't leave. He'd promised Satsuki he would never abandon Natsuki, so he wouldn't go through that pain again. He'd failed. He'd left Natsuki alone, even though it had been the last thing he had wanted.
He followed Natsuki through his daily routine, noting how he was a shadow of his normal exuberance. He went through the motions, but so much of it was feigned. Syo hated to think how much worse Satsuki must be right now, if Natsuki was this down.
This had to be just a particularly bad day. Natsuki's daily routine couldn't be like this. It just... Could. Not. Syo needed Natsuki to be okay. this was just a bad day, and Natsuki needed comfort, needed physical contact. As long as someone was patient and accepting with him, he'd be okay. It didn't have to be Syo.
Natsuki's words from that day at the hospital echoed in Syo's memories, '...I can't... lose you.'
"Natsuki..."
The older boy went through the motions of daily routine, going into the suite they had once shared and dropping his bags. Syo's old bed frame was still assembled, and all of Natsuki's belongings were still arranged to one side like they had been the last time Syo had been there, but Syo's side was bare. His hats and photos were gone. No doubt removed by his family trying to be considerate of Natsuki's space. Why hadn't Natsuki spread out? There was an entire half of the room that could be filled with Piyo-chan junk. Instead it was bare and gray, leaving a feeling like looking into a gaping wound.
Natsuki walked around listlessly, changing into fresh casual clothes, as Syo looked around the room in rapt horror. Natsuki couldn't keep going like this. He would break. He noticed the plush characters that used to be lined up on Natsuki's bed were missing, and found them shoved into the floor in an uncaring pile off the foot of the bed. He knelt down, trying to pick up the orange cat that had once been nicknamed 'Syo' much to his annoyance. Of course it didn't move. Syo couldn't affect things now. Not much at any rate.
Syo's head jerked up when he heard the door creak open again. Natsuki was leaving, and he followed after, not knowing what to do for him.
Natsuki stood, staring off into nothingness over the lake on the Saotome Agency-owned grounds. No reaction to the cute ducks paddling past. As far as Natsuki knew, there was no one there to perform for, no reason to pretend he was functioning. He had just stopped. Natsuki had given up.
"You can't do this, Natsuki. You've gotta be okay." Syo stood in front of him, desperately wishing more than ever that he could make his presence known. "I need you to be okay, Natsuki. Please!"
"Syo-chan..."
Syo took a step closer, hoping against everything that maybe he could reach Natsuki. He had for a minute Obon night, hadn't he? He had reached them? Why not now, when it mattered the most?!
Natsuki collapsed to his knees staring into nothing. He didn't try to reach out to stop his fall nor to reach for the Syo he couldn't see.
"I need you, Syo-chan."
Syo collapsed forward himself, wrapping his arms around Natsuki's shoulders, willing the elder boy to feel something, even a vague shadow of his presence the way Ren had.
"You're gone, and I don't know what to do."
"I'm right here Natsuki." Syo mussed his hair, tried to hug him tighter.
"I'm all alone again."
"No you're not! Dammit Natsuki! I'm right here! STARISH and Haruka are here, you just need to reach out for them!"
"I can't go through this again."
"Natsuki, please!"
"I miss you, Syo."
Syo lost track of how many hours he spent arms wrapped around someone who needed physical contact and comfort to start healing, and who couldn't see, hear, or feel him. Natsuki had stopped speaking hours ago, and the sun was going down. Syo would have screamed himself hoarse trying to get Natsuki's attention if it had been possible to get hoarse from screaming anymore. He had yelled until he ran out of both pleas and platitudes and his words became nothing but a useless repetition of Natsuki's name. Syo couldn't change, nor could he change things. Natsuki needed change.
"You're going to get sick. You've gotta go inside at least." Syo tried to pat down Natsuki's wind tousled hair with incorporeal hands. He looked so lost and hopeless. "Please Natsuki. You've gotta take care of yourself."
Natsuki got to his feet suddenly, body passing straight through Syo's arms as if nothing were there. For Natsuki, nothing was.
Syo didn't get up to follow him. He couldn't go back to that room. He couldn't keep looking into the pain of Natsuki's face just now. He crouched lower against the ground, trying to cry tears that wouldn't come, and screaming into the void where no one else could hear him.
Syo sat next to Haruka at the piano. She was composing a new song for STARISH, and hearing her music made him feel better. He let a sardonic smile color his features as she crossed out notes she had been writing and went back to change the chords. It was his key, a sequence of notes she tended to use just for his parts.
She still wrote for him.
"You're going to do great things Haruka. I wish I could be a part of them."
Her fingers stumbled over the keys as he started to play a sequence of notes meant for Syo's again, and she stopped leaning deeply over the piano before pushing back away from it.
She was crying again, silently but with no less pain.
"It will be okay." Syo reached out in an ineffectual attempt to brush tears away.
"Syo-kun..."
"I know."
She sniffled, rubbing her face to try to stop the tears.
"I miss you too, but you'll be okay without me. You'll be better than okay Haruka; you're going to be wonderful. I'm putting my faith in you to make STARISH amazing."
"We need you, Syo-kun."
"I'm not going anywhere yet. You just can't see me anymore. I'm here."
"STARISH feels incomplete without you."
"It will change. You'll heal."
"But we won't give up. I know you wouldn't want us to give up."
"That's my girl." He put his hands to either side of her face and kissed her forehead then her cheek gently. "I love you Haruka. Thank you, for everything. You gave me my dreams, and I want you to achieve yours. I believe in you."
Tears still made silent tracks down her face, but she kept playing her new composition, pausing regularly to change a note here, scratch out an entire bar there. It was hard, but she kept working. Syo spent hours sitting there just watching her work. It was comforting and re-affirming.
Syo stared across the room from his perch on his empty bed frame. Natsuki was sleeping, and he still had no idea what, if anything, he could do for him. He couldn't leave Natsuki like this. He hunched in on himself, wanting to cry out of desperation but unable to.
"I thought you'd abandoned him twerp," Satsuki's voice rang out harshly in the dark room, making Syo start.
He narrowed his eyes at where Natsuki was still laid out on his bed, back facing Syo's old space so he wouldn't have to look at the empty bed frame. "...Satsuki?"
"Who else could see your stupid face now, but me?" Natsuki sat up. No, not Natsuki, this was Satsuki staring at him from the other side of the darkened room, face scrunched in mistrust.
"I promised I wouldn't abandon him."
"I guess you think you're pretty admirable, sticking around even though you're dead." Satsuki stood up and crossed the room to look down at him.
Syo hadn't had any trouble differentiating between Natsuki and Satsuki for years now, so even though he wanted to believe it was Natstuki looking back at him, meeting his gaze, he knew better. "I don't care about admirable. Tell me how to help Natsuki."
"Be alive." Satsuki looked ready to spit on him. "You chose the path that lead to your death, and this is the aftermath. You abandoned him."
"I did not!" Syo lurched to his feet, angrily staring back into Satsuki's cruel demeanor. "I took the path that I thought would let me stay by his side!"
He took a step back at his own words. He'd never put it that way. Never put words to that feeling. He never could now. Not in any way that mattered for Natsuki.
"Realized it now, did you?"
"Shut up, Satsuki." Syo brought a fist up to his chest. Yes, he loved Haruka, but he also loved Natsuki, and now he'd never be able to explore what that meant. "Unless you have a way to help Natsuki, just shut up."
Haruka had a huge support system in the form of STARISH and Tomo, but Natsuki, despite outward appearances, didn't depend on people that way. Natsuki had had him. He might fully open up to Haruka one day, but right now he wouldn't risk burdening her further on top of losing Syo. Natsuki only had Syo and Satsuki, nether of whom he could speak to anymore.
"Finally ready to do something then?"
"You think I'd just be standing here if I had an idea!?"
"No telling. You never made much sense to me."
They glared at each other for a long time, neither backing down. They both put so much of their being into supporting Natsuki, but right now Syo was the biggest burden on Natsuki's heart, and he didn't know how to repair the hurt he'd caused.
Satsuki finally turned away and went to sit at Natuski's desk, taking out some plain stationary and a pen.
"What are you doing now?"
"Taking dictation. Start talking twerp. Your last words for Natsuki. Help him."
Syo ran his hands through his hair, Satsuki would never stop being frustrating. It was the Natsuki in him. He walked over, leaning on the desk to watch Satsuki carefully. He started talking, all the words he never said to Natsuki that needed saying now. It was amazing, seeing Satsuki patiently faking Syo's penmanship on a bit of stationary that must be a leftover of Syo's own.
It was hours of writing and re-writing there in the middle of the night. Satsuki helped, knowing what Natsuki needed to heal even more than Syo did.
"I love you. Always will. I'm sorry I never told you in person. I'll always be with you."
"Please, trust STARISH to help you. You're not alone. We made STARISH together and you'll never be alone again. I'm with you in the music."
Satsuki sealed the letter, and took one of Syo's old hats from a hiding spot.
"You planned this?"
"I hoped."
"You?"
Satsuki snorted at him. "Don't push it twerp."
The letter went in the hat, and the hat was left sitting on top of the 'Syo' cat plush. Satsuki guaranteed that Natsuki would notice it soon.