A/N: I'm dumb and here's a too far overdue finale. Thank you and I hope everyone enjoyed the ride even though it's been so long.

Yuki stared at the empty fish bowl in his hands. The sunlight poured in through the windows, catching itself in one of the cracks that shaped the curved glass. It had been over a year since he'd glued the pieces of the shattered bowl together to resemble what it had once looked like. He remembered how easily it broke into a thousand pieces on the wooden floorboards. The red-head involuntarily played the scene over again in his mind, as painful as it always was.

He slammed the door open and stood in place for a moment. Sweat dripped off his forehead as he panted searching the entry for something, anything.

"Grandma? Are you there?" he yelled. No answer returned.

Not bothering to try a second call he lunged forward toward the living room. He turned a corner and slid on his heels before tripping over his feet. A small gasp escaped the red-head as he cupped his hands together and clutched them close to his chest, protecting the small beta fish he held as best as he could. Bracing for impact, Yuki curled into a ball and angled his body so that Haru wouldn't be crushed in the fall. The first thing to hit the ground was Yuki's shoulder, letting out a loud cracking sound as it suffered under the entirety of his body weight. He let himself scream in pain but only for a moment. Immediately, he jumped to his feet and ran up the staircase still clutching the little fish to his chest.

Haru's room was still off-limits to everyone even after the night Yuki had pulled all those band-aids off the alien's torso. This didn't stop Yuki from kicking the door open as hard as he could, though. It didn't even cross his mind as gray eyes targeted the fish bowl full of water sitting on the table in front of Haru's sleeping chair.

Before he could stop himself, Yuki began to smile as he jumped toward the welcoming sight of the glass bowl. Haru was going to be okay. He was always going to be okay. As long as Yuki was around, he would always make sure of that one thing.

Yuki reached his arm forward, cringing only a little at the pain leftover from the fall in the living room, but before he could grab the edge of the bowl, he felt his foot slipping on one of the many bandage wrappers strewn about the floor. He was falling again. Yuki's grin quickly faded as he felt the tiny fish slip out of his hands. Haru flew through the air as Yuki fell to the ground.

Crash.

He groaned at the pain running through his shoulder but quickly looked up. From his spot on the floor he saw a tipped over table and shards of glass spread across a soaking wet floor.

The redhead's face contorted in pain and panic. "No. That can't…" Yuki crawled toward the haphazard arrangement of glass fragments. "This isn't right… It's n-not happening…" he whimpered as he picked up a shard, hoping that the bowl could somehow still be intact. When his mind caught up to everything, he dropped the piece to the floor as he started to tremble. Finally the tears began to fall. They dripped off his cheeks and onto the floor, mixing with the large puddle of water spread across the wooden boards. A sob escaped his lips as he brought his fist down, slamming various pieces of glass into his knuckles. "Damn it!" he cried out continuing to pummel the shards on the ground. "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! God damn it!"

Then, seemingly from nowhere, a small whisper.

"Yuki?"

His heart skipped. An all too familiar figure was lying on the floor only feet away from him. "H-Haru!" Another grin formed on his face, still accompanied by teary eyes. Once again, Yuki crawled across the floor, not caring about the bits of fractured glass sliding with him.

Haru's eyes flickered to Yuki's injured hand. "Yuki," he squeaked. "There's red on your hand." The teen settled himself next to the blond as Haru weakly reached a hand to Yuki's hair. "I like this red better."

A mix between a sob and a giggle came from Yuki as he enjoyed Haru's hand playing in his hair ever so gently. He looked to Haru's violet eyes. Haru wore a soft smiling expression. It wasn't his usual bright grin, but it looked just as nice in Yuki's eyes.

Keeping his hand entangled in the mess of hair, Haru continued, "I wish I could keep this red forever."

"You can, Haru." More tears dripped off Yuki's cheeks. "Of course you can, Haru."

A breathy giggle escaped Haru's soft smile. "That makes me really happy, Yuki."

They continued to lie together. Eventually Yuki took held of Haru's hand, forgetting about the blood leaking from his knuckles. The tears never stopped leaking from Yuki's eyes as they spent time talking, giggling, just being together until they both fell unconscious. One was to wake up the next morning, the other to never open his eyes again.

Yuki shuddered as he remembered waking up to find a dried up little beta fish at his fingertips. He remembered screaming as what seemed like buckets of tears flowed from his eyes. He screamed until he couldn't scream anymore. Eventually Keito had found him and had convinced him to let her take Haru, though it tore his insides apart to have him taken away. Yuki spent the rest of the day in Haru's sleeping chair, taking in what was left of his scent. The next day, Keito had presented Yuki with a small box decorated with floral designs. All of Haru's favorite flowers lined the black box in flowing patterns of cerulean blue, Haru's favorite color. Yuki didn't have to open it to know that the small beta fish was resting inside.

Another shudder ran through the red-head's body. He didn't cry anymore when he thought about what had happened. Not because it was less painful, but because he couldn't anymore. The tears stopped after a couple months and didn't return, as if there were no more in him.

Running his fingertips along the cracks in the repaired fishbowl, he let out a quiet sigh. It had been so long, but the memory was as vivid as if he'd lived it every day since, even though that wasn't far from the truth.

Now, though, he was ready to move past this memory. Today was the day he'd been nervous about for over a year now. Maybe even longer, he'd realized looking back.

Yuki stood in the doorway, holding Haru's old fishbowl, staring at the year-old grave in his backyard. For a moment he thought about turning back and hiding inside, but he shook it off as he took the first step out the door.

Once he reached the small burial site, he wasn't sure what to do. He stood there for a moment, feeling the breeze fly past him as it played with the wind chimes in the tree branches. Then, letting go of whatever fears were holding him back, he crouched down and set the fishbowl on the ground before he spoke.

"Haru," he started. "I'm not really sure what to say, to be honest." His head fell slightly in shame. "It should be easier than this to talk to you. It was always so easy before." A smirk crossed his face. "Then again, you were the one who always made it easy for me, I guess."

He took a deep breath.

"I guess what I want to say," another breath, "is that I'm sorry." The breeze stopped for a moment around him. "You were suffering. For so long you were hurting and I was too blinded by my happiness to have you back that I could barely see it, even at the end. Especially at the end. When you had woken up I couldn't see anything else except you being awake. I was so dumb not to see the weakness in your movements or hear it in your voice. I was just so happy, so incredibly happy, that in that instance you were alive. You were alive and with me." He paused to gather himself. He could feel his voice struggling to say the next few words. He attempted to speak without letting his voice crack. "I didn't even get to tell you that I love you." He failed.

For a moment, Yuki felt the flutter in his chest that usually came with tears and as usual none came. He held back the feeling as he reached in his pocket and dropped a branch of small blue flowers into the fishbowl.

"Grandma once told me that forget-me-nots can be a symbol of love but also a symbol of memories. I thought it would be appropriate as part of my confession." Yuki looked up to the sky. "I just wish somehow these flowers can reach where I can't."

A new breeze pushed Yuki's red hair back and forth playfully before he heard a small clinking noise from below.

He smiled when he saw an extra branch of forget-me-nots resting against his own.