EIGHTH SONG: there is no song for this one… Listened to Troels Abrahamsen and "End Scene" while writing, though.

"I never meant to hurt anyone."

Kanda's words are soft in the morning cold breeze. I almost want to say "what now?" but there is simply no need for me to hear the sentence again. I remember. I remember everything. Capitals, the multiplication table, how many potatoes there are in the two kilo bags from the groceries, even the colour of the panels in the ceiling of my apartment. Do you remember the colour of yours? Thought not. It's a stupid thing that a normal person shouldn't bother remembering. But I am by no means normal.

A normal person wouldn't fail to make a decent reply.

I want to be able to say something to Kanda. Not "what now?," but "I know" or "it wasn't your fault" or "they don't blame you" and "they aren't hurt," but no comforting jumbled-together-letters escape my dry lips, and the clumsy words form lumps of stone that get stuck in my throat. It's painful, and I want a glass of water. The lumps are big, too big to fit inside of me. I'm a small person, emotionally speaking. There can only be so much sadness and love inside of me. And since the once-empty space behind my ribs is currently occupied with love, the sadness can simply not fit in.

I gulp.

Gulp, says my throat, and a pillow of condensed air falls from my tongue to my stomach.

Crash, says my stomach. I am afraid that the skin of my belly might break open, and that all the emotions will fall out and land on the floor in front of me.

I clench my stomach. Clench, clench, clench harder yet.

And because Kanda doesn't speak, my frame becomes even frailer, and I clench even harder. Maybe I will clench so hard that I'll break. It will be okay to break, it's just important that I don't break in front of him.

I slowly step forward. One muscle at the time, a toe, a foot, an ankle, a shin and some leg. Thighs, hips, stomach, shoulders, all moving for the sole purpose of bringing me closer to Kanda.

But when I finally stand behind him, my limbs stop working, my hands stop clenching, I even forget the multiplication table. All that matters is the Piece of Human Breathing and Beating Hearts in front of me. Time stands still for one hundred days, and the sun doesn't move at all. It's still peaking from behind the horizon, as if saying "look at me, look at me, I'm coming over to you now."

But I see naught of the sun in the distance. I have my own piece of sun, sitting, breathing, existing just four and three quarters of a centimetre in front of me. Fascinated by the mere idea of this piece of sun having a beating heart somewhere inside of it, I reach my hand out and touch its back.

I close my eyes.

I can feel the warmth through the clothes, I can feel the calm movement of shoulder blades, tensing, relaxing, tensing, relaxing. And somewhere amidst all the rushing of blood underneath cotton and skin and flesh, bones, sinews, protecting wall of darkness, I can feel the heartbeat.

My lips spread into a wide smile. I feel accomplishment, almost as when I hand in an assignment in history class. I have proven that the sunlight has a heartbeat. It is alive, it is breathing underneath the cotton and black hair and glazed eyes, now looking up at me. I look right back, and the Piece of Sunlight Breathing and Beating Hearts moves his lips so red, they nearly look bloodstained.

"I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt them."

A lump of condensed air rises from my breakable stomach, reaches into my mouth, twirls around my tongue, and this time I'm positive that something sensible will come out.

"They're okay. We're okay."

The sunlight must be playing some funny tricks, because all of a sudden it looks like my Kanda's face is scrunched tightly in sorrow, and the only thing I can do is to brush his salty cheeks with my palms and hug him tightly.

I do not notice how cold I am until Kanda is safely in my arms. It's like I had hid my head in a plastic bag, and now that it is taken off, I can finally breathe. So I hug him tighter. Tighter, tighter, tighter yet, till I'm almost scared he can't breathe.

But my Sunlight breathes, my Sunlight's heart is beating and it is all that matters.

"I love you," I say, and it takes no lumps of pressed emotions, it takes no strain on my muscles, it doesn't need me to remember the multiplication table. It's just the

Oh

So

Pure

Truth.

Written at 2 am, so it's not perfect……….. like, at all, har har.

Lavi and Yuu (C) Hoshino Katsura
LavYuu (C) scary fangirls worldwide

Mindless babble appreciated

13th January, 2010