The Best I Never Had
When times called for drastic measures, he took those drastic measures.
And he swore he'd regret doing those afterward.
Not that he complained. It was but natural to be… a bit uneasy about taking such risks when one had the pleasures of life and the assurance that everything would go smoothly, all according to a well-sculpted scheme. But, of course, to deviate a bit from the usual would be, as he put it, exhilarating, which he thought would be a possible reason for the sudden turn of events that have just taken place, at a given dimension where he believed that only he existed.
… with him, naturally.
Which led him to the conclusion that he might have done something earlier, that he could not have waited for some miracle to take place. He knew very well that the tensai never approved of the fixed marriage. No. The tensai despised it, loathed it to the highest degree possible.
He knew of it, didn't he?
Then why did he not make a move?
He was afraid that, if they took another step, everything would change. He didn't want the tensai to slip away from him. He didn't want to lose him. He…
"Keigo?"
He blinked for some time, his eyes finally focusing on the speaker.
He clenched the microphone tight, inhaling deeply as he tried to muster everything that he had to let a few words slip from his mouth.
"And they lived happily ever after."
Somehow, it felt right to say that even if there was this stinging pain in his chest. Somehow, Tezuka's hand seemed to fit in Fuji's.
Somehow…
A tear slowly cascaded down his cheek.
One… two… three…
Perhaps it was useless to try to breathe now.
He just died.
293 words + 8:43p + 13 September 2005