Angst warning!
The trash was filled with half-eaten microwave dinners. Her desk was piled high with every scrap of work she could steal from the student council office. Her friends, other members of the student council, had insisted that she stay home, take a rest. Grieve. Mei refused.
Their mother sat at the dining room table, slumped over, surrounded by empty cans of alcohol. They were all over the floor as well, accumulated over the past few days since the funeral. She sobbed quietly into her arms as Mei silently picked them up.
"Mom," Mei whispered, rubbing her back. "You should go to bed."
Her mother jerked awake, tears running down her face. Her eyes, bleary from the drink, looked right through Mei. "Yuzu?"
Mei didn't begrudge the crushing disappointment in her mother's eyes when she realized that it wasn't her daughter. It was only Mei. The dark-haired girl didn't react to the name. She had to stay strong for her mother, who had fresh tears shining in her eyes as she uttered a quiet apology to Mei. "Let's get you to bed."
As for herself, she didn't allow herself the luxury of passing out. Especially on that large frigid bed, meant for two. So she sat at her desk and worked. She worked late into the night until the words started to blend together. Until she was signing her name on everything without reading them. Until she realized that it was because of her work…
She accidentally scribbled her name on her desk, having run out of paper. She stared at her signature with deadened eyes.
The grip on her pen tightened and shook. Attempting to bury herself in work was only making her emotions loom larger over her. Distracting herself from this was like throwing tissues at a massive oil spill, doing nothing to stop the inky blackness from suffocating her. Her thoughts rapidly caught up with her, reminding her of what was now lost.
Yuzu's laugh, her awkward attitude, her stubbornness that got on Mei's nerves so often. Yuzu. Yuzu.
She's gone.
Mei couldn't breathe. Memories assaulted her against her will, feeding on everything that was good, that had been mended because of her dead stepsister. Yuzu's dead.
She's dead.
She's dead.
As if to stave off the sickening bile rapidly climbing her throat, Mei threw her pen against the wall as an ugly cry ripped itself from her mouth. The useless papers were sent flying next, along with the chair she had been sitting on. Mei gripped the edges of the desk, her wobbling breath harsh from the sudden action. Her heartbeat was sporadic in her chest, like a dying bird.
If only she had gone home with Yuzu that day, instead of working. If only she had given in to Yuzu's pleading to walk home together, maybe she'd still be here. Her face hot with resentment at herself, at Yuzu for leaving, for leaving her. She almost flipped the desk too, but the storm of emotion was draining her with its weight. She could only beat it with her fist, giving it a few good punches until her limbs felt too heavy to swing. Grief and exhaustion enveloped her like a blanket, almost numbing.
She found herself standing next to the bed. Yuzu's pillow was in her bruised and numb hands. She shuffled towards the couch. She curled around Yuzu's pillow, squeezing it desperately in her arms, and against her chest. It still smelled like her. It still had the same effect. A ghost of warmth in her chest, newly accompanied by excruciating pain in the space where Yuzu once occupied her heart. A sun in her life that was cruelly taken away from her without warning, leaving behind a frozen tundra more cracked than before. Unable to help herself despite the pain it caused, Mei pressed her face into the fabric and inhaled more deeply. She started shaking.
Would this scent fade from her memory first? Or would Yuzu's voice, ringing so distinctly in her head now, be the first thing she would forget?
If only they had had more time together. Just a minute. So that she could memorize the contours of her face, etch the green of her eyes into her memory. Even if Mei's bloodshot eyes filling with tears couldn't see anything anymore in this state, she could at least remember their last kiss clearly. When Yuzu had confessed her feelings and Mei admitted her own, pressing the bear to Yuzu's lips.
"Once more," Yuzu had whispered before pressing their faces together with aching tenderness.
That ache would never go away. "Once more," Mei pleaded in a broken voice, squeezing the pillow to her face. The silent room didn't respond, it only filled with the sounds of choked sobs.