Author's Note: I bet you're all dying for the rest of that last chapter. I was crying writing it! So sad! But at least I get to finish it immediately rather than wait a week like ya'll. =3
Yoite was a little more than stunned. Miharu was crying and looking at him with so much empathy and passion. Normally, Miharu's eyes were distant and bored, even when he was trying to be cute and sweet. He didn't know how to react. But he could tell Miharu was being honest; there was no devilish tricks in the way he stretched out so far to try and reach Yoite's lips. But he still felt confused so he stood up rather than accept that small vulnerable sign of Miharu's feelings.
Of course, he didn't immediately notice the damage he caused by rejecting Miharu.
He saw Miharu sink back onto the tub, his eyes lowered to the white tile floor. Yoite looked away then, off the the flat, white wall. And silence stretched between them as Yoite lost himself in his thoughts, digesting what Miharu had said and what it meant. Meanwhile, Miharu wiped his eyes and turned them down to the rising water without saying a word to break the strange silence.
The things that worried Yoite the most were simple and complicated at the same time. Of course, Miharu would grant his wish. He believed his friend's lives were at risk, but why would he be worried about getting too close? Wasn't this whole bath experience put together so Miharu could get closer to him? And why love? What had Yoite done to earn love?
He tried to answer these questions, but found himself even more lost. And it all came down to why Miharu would love anything about Yoite. Yoite kidnapped him, threatened and blackmailed him, he abused his friends in battle and even blinded him in one eye. Sometimes he caught Miharu looking at the scar on his hand, one that Yoite had caused while berserk. Wouldn't all those things make him hate Yoite? Shouldn't all the pain he caused the boy lead to it? He made him betray his friends, they were always running and hungry and cold. He had to take care of Yoite when he felt ill. Shouldn't it be hate?
Miharu moved and that movement brought Yoite back to the world. He pushed away all the annoying thoughts, the confusion and tried to come up with some question that would ease his worry. As Miharu turned and leaned over the tub, Yoite asked it.
"Why don't you hate me?"