First off, a big thank you to everyone who reviewed. We've now reached half-way point!

Lost autumn winds

- Nowaki -

XX

I like Misaki-kun, I can tell from the way he fidgets and glances at you that's he's a good kid deep down. He's honest and considerate, it makes me wonder how he ended up with Usami-san. Even so, I hope that they can remain happy.

After he and Usami-san leaves, I return to the main room and glance at the stacks of cardboard boxes. There are lots of letters that I haven't even glanced at yet waiting on the table. Bills, notices from the hospital, a letter from Doctor Carter...

It's so silent here.

I haven't seen Hiro-san in weeks. I want to see him. I miss him, but I wonder if I'm a bother to him. If what Misaki-kun says is true then he's always around that professor. Even though I want to see him, I hold myself back. I wish that professor wasn't there all the time.

The books I borrowed from him are still stacked up in piles around my apartment. I wonder if I could use that as an excuse to see him. But then again the only place I can find him now is at the university and I don't know his timetable.

Very slowly, I think these tiny scars are turning into something serious.

I think it was presumptuous of me to expect to be welcomed back with open arms when I arrived back in Japan. Although I'm certain that I told him about America, it really was my fault for not contacting him in a year.

I should not have been so arrogant to assume that I could stand in the same place as Hiro-san just because I completed my training in a year instead of two. Since Hiro-san is incredible, he moves quickly and meets his goals one by one.

Although I want him to succeed, I also don't like it. It feels as if he's drifting further and further away from me whilst I struggle to catch up. I don't want to be left behind. I want - wanted, I should say - to be someone who could stand on equal footing with him. Despite the age difference, I wanted to be someone who would suit him. That was all.

As I prepare to turn in for the night, I notice the bag of unsent letters addressed to Hiro-san. Did I leave them out? I think about taking them to the university. I'll show them to Hiro-san, declare my love, convince him somehow that I never meant to hurt him or leave him in the rain.

Look, Hiro-san, I wrote these for you. Three hundred and sixty five letters. One for every day of the year. Look at them, Hiro-san, I never forgot about you. There was not a single moment that I forgot about you.

Then he would blush, look away with embarrassment and mutter something to save his pride. I would hug him and tell him it's okay and somehow, somehow, through all the incomprehensible stuttering and the confusion, I would just hold on to him until he calmed down and told me he missed me too.

…Without realising it, I've been picturing something impossible, haven't I?

If I knew this was going to happen, I would never have gone to America. I want to go back and tell my past self that it would be a bad decision. I want to go back to that summer when we were eating peaches together. They were overripe and the juice kept dribbling out with every bite so our hands and mouths were sticky.

When Hiro-san finished his, he threw the pip away and complained about never knowing that eating a peach could be so difficult. He was so cute at that moment that I had the sudden urge to take his hand, our sticky fingers intertwining, and pull him into a kiss.

I just wanted to taste a peach flavoured Hiro-san. It was nice. Sweet and fruity but soft and familiar, like a warm peach with all of summer inside of it.

Then I wanted to taste strawberry flavoured Hiro-san and chocolate flavoured Hiro-san and a caramel cream flavoured Hiro-san. I would even consider cauliflower flavoured Hiro-san even though I don't really like cauliflower because, I reasoned, anything with Hiro-san in it had to taste good.

Of course, he just blushed and told me not to be an idiot. Then he mumbled something about how peach flavoured Nowaki was sorta, kinda, just a little, tiny bit nice as well.

I thought I would eat peaches every day for the rest of my life.

I want to go back to that time when we were caught in a summer storm. I wonder if Hiro-san remembers that; how we started sprinting and I took his hand and pulled him along until we reached my place.

I wonder if he remembers the way we messily peeled off each other's wet clothes as we kissed or how we somehow didn't manage to get to the bed and ended up making love right there on the floor of the front room.

Does he remember anything? Because I seem to have a startlingly detailed memory of everything over the past years. The way he, afterwards, accused me of being a pervert but didn't have the energy to explain why. The way he fell asleep using my arm as a pillow, his hair still wet, and wasn't able to stand without feeling dizzy the next morning.

I think, if I could go back to those days, that would be the best.

I wonder if he remembers any of that. Maybe these sort of things aren't important to him.

Ah, but it's no good. Memories alone can't really satisfy me. It's like that picture of Hiro-san sleeping that I snuck with me before leaving for America; though it's a comfort, it can't really compare to the real thing.

Sometimes I tell myself that if Hiro-san is happy with someone else then I should not be selfish but be happy for him. It's like that saying; if you love someone, let them go.

Except I can't let him go. I can't be selfless. A part of me still wants to possess all of Hiro-san, a part of me still doesn't want to let go even though I know I'll probably only hurt him.

That's wrong of me, isn't it?

I'm being inconsiderate. Even though we've broken up, I keep trying to be with him. I'm sure that will eventually become a bother for Hiro-san. I'm sure, eventually, he'll come to hate me for it. Deep down, I know that I'll never return these books, I know that I'll never show him these letters - all three hundred and sixty five of them - I know it's no good at all.

That's why I think I'll try to be selfless this time, even if it's hard for me. Since Hiro-san is the most important thing in the world for me, I should put his happiness above everything else, right? Yes, that's right, isn't it?

I swing the bag over my shoulder and walk to the kitchen. My mind feels completely empty when I take out a pan and put it on the stove, emptying all the letters into it.

I want Hiro-san to be happy, I tell myself. Even if it's not with me, if he's happy, that's okay, right? I don't want to tie myself to him, I don't want to drag him down.

Because, as long as Hiro-san is happy, I…

….As long as he's happy…I….

….This is what being an adult is, isn't it? Being able to make sacrifices? Hiro-san always used to tell me that I was childish.

I find a box of matches in one of the cupboards. My fingers are trembling. One strike. Two. This match is no good. No, none of them are good, they break so easily. I'm on my fifth one before I can produce a flame.

Even though I know looking directly into a fire is no good, I stare at it anyway. It's like a little dancing woman in a red kimono like the ones at Matsuri. I really should have taken Hiro-san to more festivals like that, even if it was just to see him in a yukata.

But those kind of festivals are for summer and summer has long been over.

Just like summer, my relationship with Hiro-san is over too.

So I switch my gaze to the pan, throw in the match and watch all my letters to Hiro-san burn.

It's like a bonfire. The guys at the chemistry lab told me about these different powders you can add which makes the flame turn different colours. I wish I had them with me. Hiro-san would have liked them. I want to set off fireworks with Hiro-san, or maybe even just light some sparklers.

"No," a word escapes my lips.

It's burning so brightly, it makes my eyes water.

No, I realise. No, I don't want this! Selfless? Considerate? Self-sacrificing? I can't be like that when it comes to Hiro-san! I can't give him up like that!

I run to the tap and fill up a cup full of water. No, you shouldn't throw water on to an open fire! A cloth! A damp cloth!

I wring it and throw it over the pan, smothering the flames. I don't want this! I won't accept this! I know I'm being a child, I know Hiro-san will yell at me for being immature, but if being an adult means I have to give way for others, if it means I have to be realistic, if it means that I have to settle for second best because it's more reasonable than to chase dreams without any certainty, then I'd rather stay like a child!

Slowly, I take the damp cloth from the pan and wave the smoke away.

They're all black. They fall apart in my hands, leaving a sooty stain on my fingertips.

For some reason, I am totally calm. I can't think about anything except how quiet it is around me. Ah, is this what the end of a relationship sounds like? Absolutely nothing?

I want to eat peaches.

Even though my fingers are stained, I cover my eyes with a hand. Just what am I doing? What have I done?

It was a rather short chapter this time but it's Miyagi's turn next and his relationship with Shinobu and Hiroki. (Then it's Misaki meeting Hiroki once more.) Please look forward to it!