One year. 365 days. Thousands of hours, and millions of thoughts adrift in the mind of Sakurakouji Sakura. Today, though, was special. It was different from her birthday or Halloween. Today held much more sentimental value than to celebrated once a year before moving on to the next occasion. No, what made this day different from the rest didn't lie in how much time and effort was put into it, nor what parties would be held, but rather in the thoughts that had been swirling in Sakura's head since. Today marked the anniversary of the day she parted ways with the Code:Breakers.
The irony of it all was that she could see them any time she liked. Her sharp Rare Kind sense of smell never failed to give away when Ogami was around the corner, her ears always listening for an 8 Tears concert. It would be easy enough to acknowledge their presence, just for once. But Ogami would never forgive her if she did. It didn't make much sense to her, but he upheld it as his sole moral. For his sake, she would cooperate. Only through silent conversations and vague clues could she ever speak with her friends.
She walked down the market's lifeless dirt road to buy what only they could give her. She knew this could be her only chance- none of the Code:Breakers were around, and even Heike would find it difficult to track this purchase. She at least deserved to openly welcome their memories on this day. From the stands she selected several explosives and flashy fireworks, seven fine-tipped pens, and twenty handmade sheets of paper among other things. When she finally reached the sanctity of her room she sat down and thought of what she would write. It would have to be something memorable, something beautiful, something that would take the Code:Breakers by storm, but something that they could never see. She decided on a poem. Just one, for the friend she cherished most.
In memory of Rei Ogami
His cold heart burns all traces of their bodies
As he looks the other way, I can't help but wonder, why?
Why is it we couldn't be?
In memory of those hopeless days
And nights I would often ponder
You feared most the death of me
Yet here I write still,
Your requiem
He was as good as dead, after all. The tears seem to never stop. She lit the paper with a sparkler before he could return, knowing full well that she would never see him again.