He's gone… it's been so long, and he still isn't coming back… Why would he just leave me here? Just when I was going to leave, he makes it so I have no choice but to stay… Misaki, you're a selfish brat. I hate you for doing this to me. For everything you did to me. We were supposed to stay together… How could you just break your promise like that?
The words began blurring together between the pale blue lines. Fushimi tossed the notebook and pencil back onto the desk, pulling his glasses off his face before drying them with the hem of his shirt. "Stupid idiot…" he muttered, trying to blink away the clouds in his stormy eyes. "You weren't supposed to let yourself get killed so easily…"
'Hey, it wasn't my fault. Besides, there's nothing anyone could've done. I'm sorry I had to go, but it's not like I'm really gone if I'm still here, right?' Pale and ethereal, Yata sat on the floor next to Fushimi's bed, looking over at his old friend.
He'd long ago learned about what the blue-haired teen was planning before Yata's death, just from happening to see the angry writings like this one. If Yata were still around, he knew he would've been pissed at his best friend for leaving, but now that he felt the same kind of loneliness that he imagined Fushimi was going through, he supposed he could understand in a way. But why was he getting so worked up over this now, when the accident was over a year ago?
It was then that he noticed the calendar on the wall, and the current date. 'Oh… yeah, I guess you're officially older than me now, huh?'
The taller boy stood up from the chair and walked through the pale redhead, making him gasp in surprise before he collapsed onto the bed, the tears starting to escape. "Why did you leave me?" he whimpered quietly, wrapping himself around a pillow. "I miss you, Misaki…"
Yata felt a dull ache in his chest at seeing his best friend like this, all because of him. 'I'm sorry, Saru… I miss you too.' He stood up too and floated onto the bed to sit next to Fushimi. Moving was definitely different now that he was like this, but he was used to the basics by now. 'I'd come back if I could, but that's not really an option for me. I swear though, if you do something stupid and try to join me here, I'll kick your ass,' Yata warned, running his fingers over Fushimi's hair lightly, not that he would be able to feel it anyway. He hadn't heard or felt anything Yata tried, so why would this be any different?
Eventually - whether it was minutes or hours later, the ghost couldn't tell - Fushimi's cries quieted down, and he soon fell asleep. Yata continued petting his hair gently, wishing he could feel the familiar texture beneath his hands. 'You have to remember to take care of yourself, okay Saru? I don't want you to be upset like this for the rest of your life. Just move on and try to be happy, okay?' he pleaded, feeling his own emotions start to crumble. It pained Yata to see his best friend like this, even more so than the bullet that had torn through his chest or learning of Fushimi's planned betrayal. Leaning down carefully, the redhead pressed a small kiss to Fushimi's forehead.
'Take care of yourself,' he repeated once more. 'I'll be watching to make sure you do.'
The redhead watched his best friend's features relax slowly, before he silently moved to his feet. Floating upright, Yata drifted back through the bedroom door, going to check on the rest of the family he'd come to know as Homura. He would be back to check on Fushimi soon though. They were best friends for a reason, weren't they? Something as stupid and unfortunate as death wouldn't keep him away.