Whenever they made love, it was in a quick hurried way, often clothed with a fury of kisses and passion as they remained hidden in the shadows. Logic had left them, making fools of themselves as they hid deep in obscurity. Far away from judgement, from the pain and disappointment that they would inevitably face. Acid shock set in Corrin's stomach when she thought about it, often while they had sex, especially when he came inside her without fail each time. She felt nauseous even more so than usual, a bitter taste entering her mouth as realization set in each time without fail.
The sex was fantastic, it always was, yet she couldn't help but to find herself able to continue with it over the past week as she found herself way too lethargic and tired to do anything other than lay in bed and sleep. It was unusual for her to feel so tired, and found it cumbersome, as she was putting a weight on the army and their progression, as she found herself to ill to eat or train. She wanted to sleep and sleep only, and when she awoke, she would hide under the covers and sob until she couldn't breathe and the tears stained her pillow and face. When not sick, she was crying, begging for salvation in her choice to be with her mother, and for the nauseousness to leave her finally. She wondered of the physical exertion of making love every night for without sleep had finally taken toll on her body, as even Takumi had become more irritable than usual, and had been susceptible to getting colds and a flu with a compromised immune system without gaining enough sleep, and on free time, having taken her into the shadows to get a fix with her.
The sex itself had changed. It had begun tender, and loving, yet now, with tensions high, it had turned passionate and almost hateful, as they both took turns snapping at each other, feeling anger growing between each other. The love making had become more sparse in the past two weeks, as Corrin would irritably shrug him off under the excuse that she felt cramps in her stomach and was cranky, and when they did make love, she would end the session prematurely if he even pressed against her breasts the wrong way. It was near torture, as he swore they had doubled in size, and all he wanted to do was taste and feel them. It was like he could never do right with her anymore, and everything he did was wrong. Takumi wished he could understand her, to wrap his head around the woman of whom could be warm and loving one moment, then cold and distant the next. She never used to be like that either. Her mood swings were almost violent in nature, something he had never expected from her. He wanted the old Corrin back, anything other than this.
When he entered her room, dawn just approaching, it was completely dark, a musty old smell escaping as soon as he opened the door, making him choke. A small light illuminated from the window near her bed, which was faint as she kept the curtains shut, but allowed him to view the lump hidden under the blankets in which was groaning and stirring. This wasn't Takumi's first time visiting to this exact same scenario. Often he would peek his head in to check up on her, only to receive a command to leave and shut the door as tightly as possible, though last night when he visited, she sat and talked briefly, requesting he bring her miso soup in the morning. She emerged from the blankets, her red eyes wet and her hair knotted and sticking every which way as she sleepily sat up, rubbing her eyes. Takumi sighed, his eyes trailing down to her ever growing chest which he knew was off limits before setting the bowls down on the table and approaching her cautiously, as one would do to a dangerous animal. He had enough of her sudden unexplained pity party, and thought her pathetic for laying in bed all day.
Corrin nearly hissed when he pulled the curtains aside to let fresh air into her stale stuffy room, cowarding away from the window as she shielded her eyes. She blinked, attempting to adjust to the sudden light, and to make clear of Takumi's face. He himself looked exhausted, more mentally than physically, but she could also tell that he had the sternness one a parent might use while disappointed in a child for misbehaving as he looked up and down at her. She sniffed, inhaling the fresh air, and for the fist time in a long time, felt her stomach grumble, though knew that she wouldn't be able to withstand anything other than liquids. She knew right away by the look on his face, that in order to receive her meal, she would have to listen to what he had to say, to hear him reprimand her.
"You know you're our leader, right?" Takumi finally snapped bitterly as he sat on her bed, his taupe eyes narrowed in annoyance. Corrin groaned and fell back.
"I don't feel well." She replied, bringing the blanket back up over herself. It wasn't a lie, she couldn't ever recall feeling this miserable.
"And you think you're the only person to get sick? Get over yourself."He spat, ripping the blanket down.
She glared at him before her lip trembled and she covered her face, bursting into tears. He should have known this would have happened, he always received this result with any recent confrontation. He had sworn she was the type not to cry until now. Intuition told him to shake her, to tell her she was being selfish and at this point, they might as well surrender the war, but experience told him to comfort her in a more gentle way. The only way she'd respond, which was something that didn't come naturally to him. It was like speaking to a child. He couldn't recall one particular day when a switch went off and she changed, yet rather a slow progression two weeks ago, when she started complaining of not feeling well. Since then, everything began to go downhill.
"Look," He removed her hands from her face. "We need you now, more than ever. People look up to you."He whispered, wiping the tears away.
Corrin sighed. He was right, she would need to leave her room soon. This wasn't healthy, and the more she laid down and slept, the worse she felt. Corrin calmed herself, hugging herself for warmth as she eyed the soup, hoping for any added strength. It felt as if she had so little. She nodded in agreement to his statement, in which he finally withdrew his stern look. He brought the miso soup over, receiving a look of gratitude in return. The smell of the soup was inviting, yet at the same time, only increased the nausea that always lingered in the pit of her stomach. She never could recall it smelling nearly as strong. It was as if everything increased in smell. She refused to wash the bed sheets, for even the smell of soap gave her an unbearable headache.
She wished she could throw up, maybe then she could feel better. Yet instead, the headache and ugly feeling inside her stomach always remained, hanging over her with no choice but to proceed with it. She craved no food, or desired it in the slightest, and couldn't stand without feeling light headed and dizzy, almost like the feeling she first had when she kissed Takumi, although not nearly as pleasant. She swallowed hard, preparing for the oncoming heartburn that would come with eating, something even water had done to her before. She really didn't want to eat, yet she knew she had to, or else she would continue to be confined to the bed, having no strength left. Takumi watched her, monitoring her consumption, as he wouldn't put it past her not to eat if only to have an excuse to laze around longer.
She sat in a chair, him still on the bed, brushing the tangles out through her long mane, her wincing as he roughly handled it. She considered if he'd ever treat his own hair that way, to yank out strands carelessly as a punishment for her absence over the last week. Her hair was so long and there was so much of it, Takumi wondered how she possibly fight with it down like that, flying around in a wild mess, knotting. He reached deep into his pocket, looking for a spare ribbon to tie her hair up with feeling strange about just leaving it down. He pulled her hair into a bun, taking her hair out of her face in order to tie it up in case she did throw up, which based off the pale look on her face, seemed very likely. It was odd. Even while she was bitter and angry, sleep deprived and her face turning gaunt, he saw her as beautiful. She had almost a glow to her, as she beamed at him if only slightly once again. He cupped her face, rubbing her hollowing cheek with his thumb, missing the fullness, the baby face that he had come to adore. She was becoming malnourished, a hollow picture of herself. She placed her hand over top of his, burying her face in his chest as she inhaled his scent, for once not feeling sick. He smelt like safety. Like home.
He brought her armor, helping her dress. Her body had changed. She had begun to put on weight, her stomach and thighs no longer taunt, but instead flabby, she had put on weight. Her dainty feet were swollen and nearly purple, making her wince nearly every time she stood. There was always new pain, always a new ache. Her breast plate no longer fit, and she whimpered every time it was brought close. He swore it was his imagination, that it was impossible for them to grow, as Corrin was at the end of teenage hood, and yet there she stood, hugging her chest, unable to wear a bra or anything on her chest scant for a loose tank top. Takumi shook his head.
"You need to see a doctor. I've never seen a flu like this." He mused, finally coming to an understanding as to why she insisted on staying inside. Corrin shook her head.
"I'm fine...I just haven't eaten much and..."She grabbed her head, the throbbing sensation playing at her temples again. She sat, hoping for the world to stop spinning. Takumi paced, attempting to mull over symptoms in his head that related to any illness he could think of. She seemed unwell, and he didn't want to push her, yet now that he got the idea of leaving in her head, he knew she would be insistent on it, and would refuse to stay in.
She settled on her under attire that she wore beneath her armor, the only thing she owned that accommodated her bust currently before giving him a final triumphant glance, though he looked at her dubiously, afraid of her uncomprehendingly acting brash and doing something stupid. He wanted her to leave her room to get out in the fresh air, to act more a leader instead of a pathetic mess, and to silence Jakob's incessant nagging that was almost near pleading to get her to leave, as he thought she'd listen to Takumi if anyone. He didn't want her to jump back into combat or training, but to at least go on a walk to escape the shell of herself. They were more alike than he imagined. They were both their own worst enemy, and once they had something set in their mind, it would be near impossible to change it.
They walked arm in arm until out the door. Once Corrin reached the outside world that she had shut herself away from, she paused, inhaling deeply as her eyes began to adjust. The wind was nice, it was refreshing, a nice change from the stale air she had been trapped in for the past week. She was decidedly becoming claustrophobic, although being jammed in tight places had become a normality as her and Takumi on more than one occasion had hidden in the nearest closet and made love to each other, his hand clamped over her mouth as he attempted to muffle her screams. He was reminiscent for those times, although he couldn't return to the river without thinking of the event that had occurred between them nearly five months ago.
She eagerly began to walk before moving into a jog in which progressed to a run, her arms outspread as the wind hit her face, the sun beaming down on her. The crispness of outside was doing wonders for her sickness, and she almost immediately regretted not leaving home sooner. Takumi observed silently, amused by her childlike innocence and wonder of the world she had been shut away from having come restored, as he resisted the urge to run along side her. An experience such as this wouldn't have been nearly as exciting if only she hadn't been so stubborn and pulled herself together to leave sooner. He had to wonder why anyone followed her or put blind faith into the dolt of a woman who never seemed to have a plan. Perhaps he would have to plan for her, although he couldn't plan her tumbling to the ground, falling over her own heap and immediately rolling into a ball. His heart quickened, his mouth running dry as he lunged for her as fast as possible, reaching her in record speed.
He crouched over her, tentatively pressing his hand to her arm as she blinked, seemingly unhurt by the fall, but none the less distressed. It wasn't the pain of the fall that upset her. She was a tough girl, she could handle much more than a tumble to the ground, she would be damned if that was what would defeat her. It was this feeling, this intense screaming from within that something was very very wrong with her, and she needed help. There was an instinct, to covet, to protect herself, from what, she didn't know. Whatever this intuition was, she wanted to hold it tight and never let it go, like it was a duty, or rather a calling. Like a light beckoning to her.
Her inner thigh was sticky, running red with blood, which came from in between her legs. Her stomach cramped as she gingerly laid her hand on top of it, groaning. Takumi stared in horror, the blood seeping into the ground as plain as anyone could see. He had never known panic like this, as he realized something was very wrong. She fell, only lightly, and yet she bled. He scooped her up in his arms, her own arms protectively hugging her stomach. He desperately pushed her bangs out of her face guilt written all over him as he rocked her like he would a young child who scraped it's knee, trying to comprehend what happened.
"I'm fine...I'm fine..."She assured, using his shoulder as support to rise. The bleeding had seemed to stop, but the previous quantity that had seeped out continued to run, landing in droplets on the ground turning to black. Takumi was unbelieving, putting his arm underneath hers for support, hoisting her up slightly.
"You idiot!" He spat, exasperation nearly consuming him as he grabbed her by the shoulders, resisting the temptation to shake her. "You're not feeling well! Why would you run off like that?"
She was truly incomprehensible. Not only in actions but in expression as he tried to read her. She seemed not to have a fear of him, something of which he thought she should maintain as he considered killing her right where she stood he was so infuriated, but she seemed to withhold a fear of something larger, an intuition judging by the glint in her eye that she got before battle. When she sensed something, larger than them was in the works.
"...Azama..."She whispered, her voice hollow and hidden under the hush of the wind.
"You must have hit your head! I don't understand what you're saying!"He scolded, taking the patronizing tone he always used when he disagreed with her.
"Bring me Azama..."She pleaded, grasping at the fabric of his shirt. He was startled to see her acting so strangely, to not cheerfully chirp a response off like always.
He sighed, relenting, leading her back inside once again, to which he commanded her to sit, and not move before seeking out the monk of whom Corrin wished to have so desperately. Takumi knew that Azama was proficient in healing, but if she was hurt, why not seek out Sakura or Elise, of whom he was sure could do a job equally as well. Yet, he wasn't going to deny Corrin of him if she had pleaded for him, although Takumi was sure she was having delusions of grandeur at this point from being locked away for so long.
He found Azama, sitting serenely by the fishing pond as he meditated. He hummed a low note, an equally calm smile on his face as he enjoyed the pleasant weather without a care. Takumi couldn't remember the last time he had so much of a luxury of relaxing as Azama did he was so over turned with taking care of Corrin and upholding his duty as the second prince of Hoshido. He was sure Corrin was going to lead to an early death at this point she stressed him out so greatly.
"Ahh, Prince Takumi, what brings you to me today? No wait-let me guess...you came to discuss that strange odor that everyone else noticed but you. The only remedy I can suggest is soap." Azama nearly sang. Had it not been for the circumstances, Takumi would have had a quip.
"It's Corrin." Takumi said hoarsely, composure taking flight from his body as he spent every second thinking of her, of worrying about her. The damned woman.
"Sleeping Beauty, ah yes, we can only sleep for so long." Azama replied simply, still in his meditative trance.
"She needs you. I don't know what for, but she does." Takumi beguiled. Intrigue peaked in Azama making him turn his head to face the prince.
"What for?" He inquired, brushing the dirt off his pants as he stood.
"Like I said, I don't know. But I need you to follow me." Takumi implored before quickly setting off. Azama clicked his tongue, deciding to stroll after him, although he was at the very least entertained by the thought of what required such desperate attention from him.
The walk to Corrin's was the longest walk of Takumi's life. It felt as if time passed at the rate Azama walked, which was slow with heavy ease, as Takumi's mind swam with the possibility of what was ailing Corrin. Had she hemorrhaged, and that was what had caused her to bleed? Was it a new deadly virus? If it was, how long would it take for him to catch it? Whatever it was, he just wanted one thing. For her to be ok. He wouldn't let it be over, this would not be their final chapter. He lead Azama up to her room, hurriedly opening the door for the monk. Azama coughed on the air as soon as he entered the room, Takumi finally taking hold of relief that she was still physically sound and not dead as she sat on the bed.
"If you've retrieved me to help dispose of whatever died in here, I can't help." Azama sneered, fanning himself. Corrin glanced to Takumi, she could tell he was panicked and his patience was wearing thin with Azama.
"No, I..."Corrin began before Azama held his hand up.
"Wait. Patient, doctor confidentiality. You need to leave." He urged to Takumi, shooing him out. Takumi remained unmoved, uncaring of a code. He cared about her and her well being. Corrin looked at him once again, gently requesting for him to leave. Takumi sighed, crossing his arms over his chest before leaving in a huff, standing outside her door as he anxiously awaited to be invited back inside.
"Now," Azama approached, sitting next to her on the bed. "I am very very busy, you know, monks are in hot demand, as everyone wants redemption for the impending doom of battle. What's so important that you must tear me away from my work?" He inquired, animating himself with his hands. Corrin fidgeted.
"I was...ahem...told, that in your time in Hoshido, women could come to you when they were, uh...having trouble with their bodies..."She said in bellow a hush although it was just them in the room, fearing that someone might hear.
"Oho, what you've heard is true! And where were you when I was telling Subaki that I've seen more naked women than he ever will in his lifetime?" Azama boasted. He could sense her embarrassment, as he pondered whether or not to draw it out and really see their fearless commander squirm.
"I fell and there was bleeding and-" She blurted out all to quickly, her stomach cramping once again.
"Well then, let me see."He interrupted, patiently waiting for her to lay back. She made a high pitched shrill noise as she nearly jumped three feet in the air.
"N-No! That's preposterous!" She squeaked, hiding her face in shame.
"Well how else do you want me to diagnose what happened to you?" He snapped impatiently. She hesitated, knowing there was no other option other than to look in a place she once considered sacred.
She laid on the bed, anxiously waiting as he pulled up a chair, positioning himself in between her legs which she had seemingly sealed shut. It was only with his cold hands in between her thighs did her legs jolt open. He even became slightly concerned as he viewed the blood soaked panties, in which were now permanently stained. He suspected her period at first, and prepared himself for the birds and the bees, yet, the blood hadn't continued to flow, and although quite a bit exited her body, it was still unusual.
"Your last period?" He inquired bluntly. As if the shame wasn't already enough.
"I never got one..."She admitted ashamedly, covering her face with her hands. He seemed uncaring as usual.
That was even more perplexing, and he could understand her fear. She seemingly had never menstruated, and now she bled. He had considered perhaps a ruptured hymen, although that would seemingly revolve less blood. He would need a closer look. His hands were cold, sending unpleasant shivers down her spine as she felt his hands on her hips, removing the blood stained underwear. She nearly wanted to cry again, she had never known this much embarrassment.
"Relax. I don't want to be here just as much as you, especially not with the amount of pubic hair you have. We are in an era of waxing my dear." Azama warbled, Corrin feeling light headed as if she would faint. She attempted to speak, but her throat was hoarse and dry, not permitting her speech.
He sat there perplexed, his hands on her outer thigh as he looked, the last thing he wanted was to touch it. As there were boundaries he wasn't prepared to cross with his leader. He remembered the doctor who trained him, her voice soft and serene, reminding him that taking care of people to ensure their comfort, meant sometimes sacrificing your own. If it was a hemorrhage, he would need to take immediate action. Yet there was one question left to pursue.
"When was the last time you had sex?" Azama inquired carelessly. Why to be ashamed of it? It was like death, everyone would come to experience the touch of someone once in their lifetime, and that was almost something of a secret no one cared to admit. Corrin gasped, mortified he would even inquire about that.
"T-That's none of your business!" She informed him crossly, shutting her legs tight.
"Tsk, tsk, but it is. Many women hemorrhage their first time if the man isn't gentle. It really isn't that big of a deal, I've seen it before."
A heavy silence filled the room as she laid there, in her inner debate on if she could provide him with the information or not. He didn't have to know who her partner was, just when.
"...Three weeks..."She admitted, unable to look at him. He nodded understandably. The hemorrhage was immediately ruled out, something of that nature would have taken place much earlier. He failed to judge her. She was a young women in a camp full of men, why wouldn't she strike when the iron was hot?
"And did you use protection?" He pressed on. He knew the answer by the uncomfortable moan as she attempted to muster an excuse.
"You know Lady Corrin...I always keep a steady supply of sheepskin condoms in my tent if you're ever interested in-"
"Stop!"
He chuckled, holding up his hand to show her the wedding band he proudly wore. She was to easy to bug. Of course he was just bugging her, Corrin knew he loved Hana.
"Roughly...how long have you been having sex?" He asked, trying to determine the cause. He supposed if she fell, it could be a loss of a potential child. Yet at three weeks, it was only a minor amount of blood, not nearly as much. A brief passing. She counted in her head.
"Nine...eighteen...no, seventeen weeks I believe..."She suggested, covering her head as her headache began to return. He cocked an eyebrow.
"And anything unusual since then?"
She bit her lip, deep in thought.
"Well, four weeks after, I felt a bit sick in the morning, and everything made me feel dizzy. And my uh..." He was asking to medically assess her. There was no point in lying. "My chest began to hurt, it was so tender and there's been an increase in my bust." She slowly recalled, feeling her breasts ache just at the mention. It was becoming clear, but even Azama didn't want to believe.
"Dietary change?" He suggested desperately. It was rare, but a woman could act poorly when introduced to new food. He heard there was plenty of a female hormone in soy.
"Now that you come to it, yes. I haven't eaten much except for bread and soup the past two months. I don't care for much else these days." She replied, bringing herself into a sitting position.
Their fate was sealed. Everyone was doomed. He knew the symptoms, he knew the feeling. When Hana was pregnant with his child, she had fallen while in swordplay. The baby was fine, yet she couldn't do any activity to further risk Mitama's life. The blood loss, it was nearly identical. Azama rose, pacing back and forth as he attempted to comprehend what he had just learned. Corrin drew her legs to her chest, watching him as she was reintroduced to the same fear she met in the fall. Something was wrong, something out of place. She had never seen Azama act in such a manner, that of which petrified Corrin the most. Was she going to die?
"Corrin...I don't know how to say this but..."He held onto the chair for support. "You're...you're with child."
All at once, everything closed in on her, consumed her. Her ears rang in a high pitched sound, blocking any other words to proceed to her mind, which had seemed to fail in thought, meeting the bleak darkness that she had seen. Her vision left with thought, her body fighting against itself to relinquish the knowledge in which Azama had given her, to think, to come alive again. It was as if life had left her, along with breath as her stomach ached. The first sensation she was able to identify after moments of sitting in her own quite revelry was the feel of her heart beating wildly within her chest, nagging her to move, to speak. Awareness seemed to still fail her, although the ringing sensation left her ears slowly, and she could see the blurry outline of Azama. She blinked, only to realize that tears had emerged from her eyes, and like a river, they ran down her cheeks, her chest huffing as she let out ragged sobs. She was crying, and for a moment, she couldn't comprehend why she sat so upset. The news had failed her, almost incredulous of the possibility in which Azama suggested. A baby.
She couldn't have a baby. Not now, not when everyone needed her more than ever. What would happen to everyone while she sat at the sidelines? No. She couldn't do that. That was an impossibility, no one could know about the child, she would rather die than live with the shame. Takumi was right, she was a liability, she always had been and always would be. Takumi...he was the one who did this to her. The one who ripped away her chance at normality and happiness, away from a life in which she could fall in love and get married. She was confined to it now. His child, his seed, which she felt already, dark and evil. He couldn't know. She wouldn't see his face, the way his eyes would fall, the way he'd react, she wouldn't listen to his anger hissing at her ears. He had no right to do anything of the sort. He had given away the privilege of emotion, to be upset with her when he impregnated her. He would think the baby would have ruined his life...his name...which Corrin knew meant more to him than her or a child ever would. If only to be his everything, at least for once...
Azama watched her as she wailed, totally unhinged and no longer composed as she fell to the pillow, hugging herself. Sympathy ignited within him, wishing he could reassure her, to do something, anything, to just tell her things would be alright. They wouldn't be. Not with that inside her. Things, would fall to ashes, the war was lost, as they couldn't do anything with her when she was like that. He wanted to resent that in her, but he couldn't. What was there to resent? A young woman doing what young women did and have sex? She wasn't to blame...not really...
He sat by her side, mouth set in a straight line as she sobbed until she fell asleep. He had never observed such hollowness, such a loss of hope, or joy. She knew the fate that she faced now, and she knew that it was unmoving, that it was unkind and wouldn't just hurt her. It would hurt everyone. Those thoughts would manifest into dreams, and every night, she would be haunted by them. It was almost of relief when he had noticed her asleep, taking in a moment of stillness, of calmness that he was unsure she would ever be able to have again.
He tucked her in, determined that as long as she wished for him to remain silent, he would. He respected his commander, and he knew that she was filled with goodness and hope. Whatever it meant in a world like this. He hoped that she would prove to bring that goodness to life again despite the odds. It was a small chance, just a glimmer of hope, but he wished for it anyway. Dying had seemed to become much more frightening when you had someone to live for. Corrin was what stood in between that line of life and death. If they won the war, he could be with his wife and daughter until the end of his days, as that was what he truly wanted out of life now. They had given him more reason and purpose than he could ever imagine, and the thought of a war removing them from him, just when he had Mitama close terrified him. So on Corrin he put all of his hopes and fears, to somehow push through, to lead them to safety out of the strife in which the army faced.
Azama's step's echoed through the room as he exited, the hollow padding continuing until he exited. Takumi sat, his eyes eager, his lips pursued as he sat, readying himself for the news on her health. He had sat there, for what seemed a lifetime for Azama to emerge, to tell him everything was ok, that Corrin would pull through, because she always did. Takumi knew she would be alright, he just needed to hear it from Azama.
"Well?"He asked impatiently, rising from the ground.
Azama's eyes darted side to side. He hadn't thought of what he would tell her brother. He couldn't tell him the news, that was a secret he silently swore to keep to Corrin, as he was in no place to spread around what he had learned. But Takumi needed an explanation.
"Flu and torn hymen. She needs rest." Azama lied.
Had it been anyone other than Corrin who had been hurt, he would have pressed further, he would have seen the lie and demanded the truth. He sensed the unease in Azama, that he wasn't hearing the whole story, but so much of Takumi wanted to believe it was just a flu. That through rest she would be better. He nodded before attempting to move past Azama, wanting to see her. Azama blocked him.
"She's sleeping." He told Takumi, watching his face droop like an upset puppy.
Azama couldn't bear to be here any longer, not where he could still feel Corrin's sorrow as she slept. He rushed off, as fast as he could from her room and to Hana, to Mitama. To tell Hana that he cared, and to tell Mitama that her poetry was beautiful. To feel love, and to love in return. Away from a woman who seemed to fail being loved by a man.
Takumi stared at her door, his hands bawled into fists as he considered entering anyway. Even just to look at her from faraway, because if that was all he was permitted, he would take it. He just wanted to see her, to hold her. She was always at the back of his mind, and he wished he could shake her out. Then maybe everything could be easier to handle. He wouldn't have to feel the pain of his heart swelling at just the thought of her. To adore her although he still realized her faults. Then perhaps everything would be easier. It seemed as life was determined not to have it that way though, to make anything easy for Takumi, for him to feel pure unfiltered joy past a brief moment in when he held her. Instead he was stuck with her haunting his thoughts, eating at his core.
"Corrin Corrin." He mustered, pressing his calloused fingertips to the door, pressing gently as he felt the wood before turning to leave.
If there was a heaven, it was when he was alone with her. Being away from her, while she hurt was hell. Being with her was like living in purgatory. To get a taste of happiness, to know that there was more, but he couldn't taste it. Happiness was a forbidden fruit, always out of reach, just like her. Together alone, was heaven just at his fingertips, and she always slipped away. So to hell he slid, deeper and deeper down that path as he walked away, to forget that he knew something was wrong with her, and that he had lied so he could believe she was well for his own selfish reasons.
He would give his ghost, his life, if only to be alone with her.
