Karen's hands trembled only slightly as she stared at the paper before her, musing that it was striking how something so innocuous as a name and address could make her feel slightly ill.

She hated subterfuge, had always preferred to face things head on, but she knew that while her husband could meet her on most fronts, there were things about which he required more subtlety, things about which he could not bring himself to speak aloud and she knew instinctively this was one of them. If she confronted him about the fact that he had murmured Shimako's name in his sleep a few days ago, he would surely balk. Seiichiro would assure that he wasn't cheating, which she already knew, and fail to make any mention of resurfacing memories.

If this had happened more than about six months ago, she wouldn't have known what to make of the name. However, ever since Kamui's arrival…

When the memories had come flooding back, she had first thought that maybe this was actually heaven. That they were all really dead and that now they were in this paradise. Others might have considered her life fairly mundane but she was genuinely happy with where she was, with her career, and most of all with her husband and children. She could not have designed a more perfect personal heaven if she tried. Of course at some point or another she had begun to realize that the heaven theory was merely fanciful notion but the realization had not really sunken in until the incident at the beach.

Now that she knew, and now that she was aware of Seiichiro's own slowly returning memories, she knew she couldn't just keep going on like everything was perfect and exactly as it was all meant to be.

So she took a deep breath and slipped the paper into her husband's briefcase. He would do whatever he would do from here.

.

.

Yuuto had always known that he was inconsequential as far as the world was concerned. After all, one person really couldn't make any significant difference to the way the world functioned. He recalled reading once about the Holocaust, and that for all that people might like to think that people learned some sort of lesson from Hitler, by and large, mankind had not changed a bit.

Still. The one upside to all of this was that if he died, and presumably he would eventually, at least Yuuto would not be around to see how much his death did not affect the world in the slightest. It wasn't so much that he had any illusions about his own importance, but he didn't really need his lack thereof to be thrown in his face.

That was exactly what had happened.

The moment that he and Karen had fallen into the bonfire, everything had gone dark for just a split second, and Yuuto was certain that he was dead. That part wasn't really so strange; near-death experiences have been documented for centuries. The strange part was that in that second, he could see the world, not exactly as it was now, but nonetheless still there, existing without him.

Who will cry for you when you die?

The words had echoed at the back of his mind, Satsuki's voice flat with feigned indifference. Or at least he thought it was feigned.

Who did? He suddenly wondered. Did anyone?

The memories hadn't hit him all at once but had come back while he had lain unconscious in the hospital, images arriving in flashes and scraps with blurred edges like ripped bits of photographs. He had been able thus far to piece together enough to have a vague idea of what had happened over all, but most vividly, and most completely, what he remembered was dying. Or at least he thought he remembered it; he may have been projecting his more current experience of falling into a bonfire onto being incinerated alive by a fire-manipulating hooker. At least it had been an interesting way to go. He would have hated his death to be boring.

Now he wondered if Karen too had remembered anything. He had even seen flashes of others that he had met, like the boy and his older "cousin" that had been searching for a friend, like Karen's son, like the awkward teenage boy with the backward baseball cap that had been at the picnic. Like Satsuki.

His last memory was of thinking of her, strangely enough. He vaguely remembered looking up at the lights of the city as they grew mysteriously dim and distant, and mumbling, or maybe only thinking, something to the effect of "I'm sorry". He had been planning to meet her for tea as usual that night and the plans had obviously been broken by the inconvenience of his death.

The thing was, Satsuki had always been just a fun companion from time to time to him. She was nothing more than some diverting conversation, an easy lay, and a good excuse to scout out interesting tea shops in the area. It had never occurred to him that there was anything about her that set her apart from any one of the many women he associated with, except perhaps the fact that she was a fellow dragon. Even that fact he disregarded as they had such wildly different approaches to and views on their roles in the apocalypse. It wasn't as if they had bonded over their desire to obliterate the human race considering that Yuuto could not have cared less what happened to mankind one way or another.

All of this considered, he found it peculiar that she was the last thing he had thought of as he had slumped against a fountain ledge, dying. He recalled hearing once that no one appreciated what they had until they lost it. Interesting, he somehow seemed to have gotten that backward, not appreciating what he had until he was the one lost.

Then again, maybe it had just been easier to admit to himself that he gave a damn about someone when he knew he wouldn't have to face her ever again. He always had been a coward, a fact he had never been proud of per se, but had accepted without remorse nonetheless.

He stared at his reflection in the cold metal of his hospital tray, eyeing the bandages that still covered half of his face and feeling like half of himself had been hidden in the past. Some part of him wished that he had stayed in the past. He didn't want the memories or the philosophical questions that they raised regarding the nature of life. Ignorance was bliss. If he hadn't known that before, he certainly knew it now.

His cell phone, miraculously salvaged in the midst of the accident, suddenly buzzed, interrupting his thoughts. He picked it up to see a text message from Satsuki.

Hey, you get discharged today right?

He gripped the phone a little tighter than perhaps necessary as he scrolled down.

Do you want me to give you a ride home?

He typed back a quick "no". Then thought for a second and added beneath it.

Let's go get tea.

.

.

Seiichiro stared at the paper in his hands, knowing full well that it was in his wife's handwriting and knowing full well what it meant. He had thought about throwing it away, or better yet, burning it but he couldn't bring himself to do either. Instead, he had spent all day anxiously trying not to think about it. He had already made his decision, probably had before he had even seen the paper, but it didn't make the knowledge any easier.

So when he got off work and saw the text message from Karen that she didn't need him to visit her in the hospital tonight and that Kamui was watching the kids, he merely nodded to no one in particular. Of course. He should have taken the B train to get home. He took the F instead.

It was a few blocks away from the station, but not so far. The neighborhood was a pretty ordinary one, all things considered. He was glad for that. Maybe this time around she had been able to live a more normal life and he supposed that was what he had wished for for her wasn't it?

He had an alibi for dropping in randomly. He had done a poll back in college for the university's newsletter on how residents in various neighborhoods perceived the efficacy of their respective school systems and compared it to the national exam scores being reported. He remembered his spiel so well even now, he was certain it would roll off the tongue just as easily as any lie. For him of course this was not generally so easy, but what choice did he have? It wasn't as though he could tell the truth here.

It turned out though that he didn't need his cover story after all as no one was home when he rang the bell. For a long time he stared sadly at the 217 placard on the door as though he could make some sort of sense out of the numbers. At last, he willed himself to walk away, feeling his heart sink with every step. He couldn't go home he realized. Not right now. He couldn't handle seeing his children and that realization in particular was like a knife in the chest. He found a bench in a local park and carelessly dropped his briefcase at his feet, staring sightlessly ahead.

"Mommy, can you push me on the merry-go-round one more time?"

Seiichiro jerked his head around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. Directly behind the bench he had so fatefully chosen was indeed a brightly painted merry-go-round complete with a small girl, tugging excitedly at the steel handlebars.

"Okay, one more time and then we need to go home so we can start dinner."

Seiichiro half turned, gripping the back of the bench until his knuckles turned white.

Shimako… Yuka…

He had loved her smile then and if he had never seen her before in this life, he was sure that he still would have been drawn in by the warmth that emanated from it. So much kindness in that simple expression. A mild breeze caught her hair and with a wrench of his heart he was reminded of how much he had loved running his hands through those soft chestnut waves.

With the soft crunch of gravel, she adjusted her stance to make it easier to push the ride and the motion caught his eye. It was odd, he had forgotten how much he had loved her ankles. The first year they had been married, they had gone on a ski trip together and she had twisted her foot the first day so they had spent the rest of the trip in their suite, resting by the fire. He remembered helping pull her boots off and how much her ankle had swollen by the time they had gotten back. With tender care, he had wrapped the injury, silently vowing never to let harm come to her again, a promise he had kept, even at the cost of actually being with her…

Yuka's shriek of glee startled him back to the present. When the ride stopped and she hopped dizzily off, stumbling slightly, he fought the urge to run across the playground and sweep her up in his arms, lifting her into the air as he knew she so dearly loved. He wondered back then if she had known that no matter how late he got home from work, he had always slipped into her room to give her a good night kiss, even if she was already asleep. Tears burned the back of his eyes at the memory and the realization that he did the same thing now every night to Nataku and Kazuki.

"What should we make for dinner tonight?" Shimako took the girl's hand, steadying her.

"Sukiyaki!"

"But it's summertime! And you say that every night."

She does. Seiichiro thought with a bittersweet smile. Or did?

"Because it's my favorite!"

Shimako laughed. "Well let's see if that's what Daddy wants first then."

Seiichiro's heart stopped dead in his tracks as for one second he thought that she might be referring to him and immediately realized in the next second that she wasn't, with all that that implied.

He watched them make their way out, disappearing behind the brick wall surrounding the park. Only once they were out of sight did he drop his face into his hands.

.

.

With Kamui babysitting and Seishirou already back at work, Subaru found himself staying at the clinic later and growing antsy even when he did go home. He couldn't stand to be alone anymore. When he was alone it was like parts of the world began to chip away, showing the happy life he had built here and now to be nothing more than a flimsy façade. He had started taking walks just to stay out of the apartment after he nearly had a meltdown once by himself in the apartment. More often than not, the walks led him to Ueno park, to the sakura tree as though it could somehow give him answers when he didn't even know the questions. He would stare at the branches for hours sometimes, not moving, other times he would circle, wandering different paths through the park, always somehow finding his way back to the tree. Rarely did he notice anything else about his surroundings.

It was the briefcase that caught his eye. He remembered Hokuto buying it as a Christmas gift last year, citing that the Italian leather was the best money could buy even though Subaru thought it was a bit flashy for Seiichiro.

"Aoki-san?"

Seiichiro's head snapped up and even in the fading evening light, Subaru could tell that his eyes were rimmed with red, although they were dry.

"What's wrong?" Subaru sank to the bench beside him.

Seiichiro merely shook his head. "It's complicated. I don't even know how to explain it myself and even if I did, I'm sure you wouldn't believe me."

Wouldn't believe…?

"I should probably be going any-"

"You remember." Subaru cut him off in shock.

Seiichiro froze and they stared at one another for a few long moments, trying to ascertain how crazy they might sound if they broached the topic too directly.

Subaru at last decided to break the silence. "You remember another world where things were going… differently."

Seiichiro gave a bitter laugh laced with a hint of relief. "To put it lightly." He stared as his hands, fingers entwined in his lap. "So Karen and I aren't the only ones."

"No, Kamui, Kakyou and I all remember as well."

"What about Seishirou?" Aoki jumped slightly at some thought and Subaru knew he had just remembered another piece of the puzzle. "Oh." He gave Subaru a sympathetic look. "Does he…"

"I don't think he remembers."

"Odd." Aoki closed his eyes. "Lucky."

Subaru wasn't sure how to respond to that but it turned out that he didn't need to as Aoki continued of his own accord, explaining about his former wife and Karen.

"The problem is… I love them both. I loved them both then and I love them both now." Aoki stared miserably at his hands. "And I feel like I've cheated on Shimako. Especially when I consider that the entire reason I was working so hard for the world to be put back together so that she and I could live peacefully and raise a happy, healthy family." He hung his head. "In the end, I think all I managed to do was hurt her. Maybe this is punishment for lying."

"Lying?"

"I divorced her you know. I didn't want to tell her that I was one of the dragons of heaven, but I also didn't want her or Yuka to get hurt. I was so afraid that something like… like what happened to Daisuke would happen to them so I had to leave. The problem was that although I couldn't tell her the truth of why, I had to tell her something." His shoulders slumped even further forward in dejection. "So I told her I had fallen out of love with her."

Subaru sighed. "I was upset once, a long time ago, because I told someone a lie, even though it was a lie to cover a much worse truth. I was supposed to meet Seishirou for dinner that night but I was so upset that I went to tell him I needed to be left alone to think. When he realized how upset I was, Seishirou pulled me inside and we talked about it. He basically told me that it wasn't fair to blame myself for telling a lie when the truth would have likely destroyed the woman's life."

"Did knowing that help?"

"Sort of. I still felt guilty because I have always thought that people should be allowed to know the truth, even if it isn't a pretty truth. But it did put things into perspective. What was done was done. Even if I didn't think what I had done was particularly ethical, it was too late to go back on it and would have done more harm than good to do so. All you can really do is keep going."

They sat in silence for a few moments, watching a few stragglers wander by on their way out of the park as streetlights came on and shadows lengthened.

"Shimako… seems happy." Aoki sighed. "It kills me to know that I can't be a part of her and Yuka's lives when that was what I fought for, what I risked my life for, but at the end of the day, I'm glad that they are alive and happy, even if it means not remembering me at all." He choked slightly on the end.

"They aren't the only ones who deserve happiness." Subaru replied quietly. "You did fight for this world, for another chance."

Aoki nodded slowly. "And I got it."

"So things have played out differently. You love Karen and Nataku and Kazuki too. Your family might be different, but you still have one, and you're still a great husband and father." Subaru stared up at the dimming sky. "Would you really be miserable if you simply continued to be?"

"No. No I wouldn't."

"Then what do you really want to do?"

"I want to go home."

.

.

A/N: Yuuto's death of course has not been gotten to yet in the manga, but the way it played out in the anime I found to be surprisingly touching. For those of you who have not seen it, his last words are an apology for not being able to meet Satsuki for tea, a moment made all the more depressing by the fact that unbeknownst to him, Satsuki is already dead. Even though I'm not a huge fan of either of them, the scene kind of got to me so I wanted to reference it in here somehow.