Author's Note: I can't believe this is the last chapter. As always, thank you all for your reviews, reads, favorites, and follows. I really hope you enjoy this last part to Monochrome. It's been a wonderful experience writing this and then hearing what you guys think and all! As I've mentioned before, since this is the epilogue, similar to the prologue, it's from Tsukiko's POV. Like most of my epilogues, it turned out longer than I expected. I hope you enjoy!

Epilogue

The first term of my second-year in high school seems to have flown by at an exceptional pace. Before I know it, summer break is upon us, and I'm fully looking forward to spending the whole time with my boyfriend, Mayuzumi Chihiro.

I still get shivers from saying that. Even thinking it, it makes me want to jump up and down and giggle. It makes my face go red and my pulse speed up and then I'm overwhelmed with a desire to see him right then, and hold his hands, and kiss him.

Ah, goodness, I'm crazy for him.

It's a wonder that he's the person I decided to fall for.

Before, I would've thought my type was someone cheerful. Maybe a bit of a nerd. A friendly, nice person who got along well with others and could keep me aloft.

Not exactly someone who spent most of his time on rooftops or wandering around the city alone. Not someone whose company were characters in light novels or someone whose views were so strong that they could overpower my own, rather than compromise with me. Not someone who could be harsh and cold, but sometimes display unwavering kindness and consideration.

Not Mayuzumi Chihiro.

But somehow, I did fall in love him. Surely and steadily, I fell. And I don't regret it.

With his college being a level above high school, and my own school getting increasingly harder, we haven't had a ton of time to spend together. But we've managed to at least see each other once a week, and it's better than what I had imagined several months ago (not seeing him at all, except for maybe breaks . . . and that was provided the long-distance relationship didn't break us apart).

Since he's not as familiar with Tokyo, there's a whole host of new places for him to explore, and we spend most of our times going around the city and trying out various restaurants and scouting out the best bookstores with the widest selection of light novels (not that he has as much time to read anymore).

Today, we've planned to meet up in a park about midway between our locations. Then, we have the whole rest of the day to do whatever want. And the whole rest of the summer! I've never looked forward to a summer so much before.

As I enter the park, my eyes begin to immediately search for him. He's always the one who's waiting on me. As much as I try to be earlier than him, there's always something that makes me run late. Whether it's I spill coffee on my shirt and have to run back into the house to get a new one, or I drop my book bag and have to stop and pick everything up, or I just lose track of time.

He's so punctual, it almost gets on my nerves.

But I suppose I don't really mind. Because I always look forward to seeing him when I arrive at our meeting place. Though I would like to surprise him at least once.

Per usual, he's already here. But he's lying on the ground, his hands under his head, a light novel flipped open over his face.

Is he sleeping?

I sneak up over to him as quietly as I can, and lift the book off his face. His eyes remain closed, his breathing steady. My own breath trips over itself, though.

When I first met him, I didn't really think about anything. But right now, the sun shining directly onto his face . . . he looks so beautiful. Maybe that's a weird way to say it, but it's true. His light silver hair, his pale skin (maybe we should try hitting a few beaches this summer), and the lips that I've become quite familiar with over the last few months.

I lean down and press my own against them.

His eyes open, and I feel him shift beneath me. "Tsukiko?" he murmurs against my lips.

"Ahh. Were you awake?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

"You don't know? How can you not know?" I squint at him and his gray eyes stare back up at me.

At first, I thought they were blank and unfeeling. So cold and distant. But now . . . I can see the warmness hidden inside, tucked a little deep, but not so far that you can't find it if you dig. And now, they stare up at me with a different expression than we first met.

And it sets my skin afire.

"Did you just kiss me?" he says.

"Sorry," I say. "Couldn't resist. You look so peaceful when you sleep. You don't glare at me or anything."

"I don't glare at you."

"Oh. Okay."

He shifts up so suddenly that I tumble backwards, but his hand darts out and grabs my wrist to steady me. He says, "What's that tone of doubt I hear?"

"Hahaha. Nothing, nothing."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever."

"But the question is: How did you fall asleep in the first place? I mean, it is kind of warm and nice. And the sky is pretty. But the ground is hard. And there was a book over your face. That's hardly comfortable." I glance at the light novel that I'd placed aside. "Was it really boring or something?"

He fakes a yawn. A terrible imitation of the real thing, really. "I guess you could say college is quite draining," he says.

"Well, we could do something relaxing today. Go to a movie. Or we could do something pumping to wake you up."

"I think I'd rather do the former. If you don't mind me using your arm as a pillow."

"You are not going to pay for a movie ticket just to sleep through it."

"I don't see a problem with it. You'll enjoy it, won't you? And I'll enjoy you enjoying it."

"Ugh . . ."

He grins at me, and slides an arm around me, before pulling me close and landing a kiss on my neck. I shiver, despite the warm weather. "How's first day of break?" he asks.

"Well, pretty good. Now that I'm here with you."

"Do I make everything better?"

"Are you flirting?"

"Is it working?"

"Mmm. It might be more enjoyable than your scowling."

"I don't scowl at you."

"Ahaha. Right."

"Again. The tone of doubt."

"But to answer your question, I suppose you could say that you make everything better. Isn't that what a boyfriend is supposed to do after all?"

"That's quite a strange position for me to play. But if you insist, I'll continue."

I grin at him. "Aha! You have gotten better. Before, you just would've said some junk about being a shadow and that you can't make anything better."

"Really?" He sounds almost bored. He rubs circles against my palm.

I roll my eyes. "At the least, I'm glad you're trying."

He glances up at me and his gaze softens. "Well, I am. My self-worth is hardly something worth praising."

"I like your self."

"That doesn't sound right."

"I like you, then?"

He sighs, but I can see a ghost of a smile on his face. He points to the light novel on the ground. "Read to me, why don't you?"

"Read to you?"

"Yeah. I'm sleepy." He lies back onto the ground, falling into the same position that I'd found him in a few minutes earlier, and closes his eyes. "Don't feel like keeping my eyes open. And I want to listen to your voice."

"You won't actually fall asleep, will you?"

"I'll try not to."

"If you do, I'm going to slap you back awake."

"Ah . . . okay, then. Try not to do to it too hard. Actually, you could just kiss me awake again. That was nice last time."

"Does that make you Sleeping Beauty then?"

"That doesn't sound very attractive, but sure, whatever. I'll be cursed for your sake, as the charming prince."

I pick up the light novel. "Very well, then."

I begin to read at the start of the new chapter where he had left it open. As my voice falls into a natural rhythm, I see his breathing even out, and his body begin to relax.

I think he really is falling asleep, despite trying not to.

I wonder if I should slap him with the light novel.

Or kiss him awake, like he suggested.

The latter does sound kind of appealing.

But then I wonder if he's just trying to bait me into getting another kiss. That would be like him.

But I'm not exactly against more kisses, am I?

I sigh, read a few more paragraphs, then give up when he hasn't moved for several minutes and gives no sign of even listening.

I lean over him, and move a lock of his silver hair away from his eyes. My breath catches as my fingers brush his forehead. He still doesn't move.

"And the charming prince considered the Sleeping Beauty," I mutter.

His eyes twitch under his eyelids, and that's when I know I've made a mistake.

Before I can react, he's shifted. He grabs me, and flips me over, until I'm the one with my back on the ground and he's now over me.

He leans close, his lips near my neck, and says, "You know what? I never really actually liked that story. The protagonist is so stupid and does nothing the whole time but injure herself and sleep and give everyone else trouble. And how come the one person who kisses her just happens to be her true love? Fairy tales are so unrealistic and cliché. Also, I don't want to be Sleeping Beauty. That sounds awful."

"Chihiro, are you saying you don't want to be a beautiful princess?"

"Do you really want to be the charming prince?"

"Well, there is a certain charm to running with my sword out to save you from death and poisonous sleep and dragons."

His hands are still clamped around my wrists, pinning me to the ground. Our bodies are so close; I feel hot all over.

He says, "I take it back. I'm not tired anymore. Actually, I feel very, very awake."

I blink several times.

"So let's do it now."

"Do what?" I ask, uncomprehending.

"Let's write our own story. Starting now. Or maybe . . . maybe it started a long time ago. That first day. When you were just an annoying first-year brat."

"That's mean."

"But true."

"Still mean."

"Doesn't make it untrue."

"Doesn't hide the fact that it's mean."

He waves a careless hand.

"But I like the idea," I say. "I think I get what you mean. A story . . . about us? Like our life stories. The two protagonists . . . the girl with rainbow-colored hair and the boy who hid himself in the shadows but had a shining silver heart."

He winds his fingers around my hair, currently dyed two shades of pink. "By rainbow, you just mean changing shades, right?"

"Stop worrying about the rainbow thing, okay? I'm never going to come in spouting hair the color of the Generation of Miracles."

"Thank goodness."

I continue. "The boy and girl met over chance. The girl was running from monsters who sought to destroy her, while the boy sought safety in written words in his rooftop house. When the girl entered his habitat —"

"Why do I sound like I'm a zoo animal?"

"Um, dwelling?"

"Now it sounds like I'm a hermit or something."

"Fine, you choose the word."

"Tree house sounds too kiddish." He considers. "Abode. Go with abode."

"That makes you sound a lot wiser than you are."

He gives me a mocking look. I continue on. "The girl entered his abode and she asked him for help. At first, he turned her away. But she persisted, and eventually, she melted the boy's iron walls, and the two became accomplices. Together, they defeated the monsters that chased her down and promised to devour her. She could only owe it to the boy, and she was so grateful to him."

"But the boy himself had his own problems," he says, taking over the story. "He hid a poison inside him, that could destroy his life, as well as others. He didn't know how to tell the girl, yet as time went on, she came to know it, and did not turn away. Shocked as he was, he welcomed her into his life."

"Yet life took another twist. The girl's mother —" I stop, feeling a lump forming in my throat, and he places a hand around mine. "The girl's mother passed away. The girl was distraught, and for a while, she did not visit the boy. But when she returned to his treetop abode, she found that there was no place else that felt safer than in his arms. And there was no other place that she'd rather be than beside him."

"The girl was to return to her hometown," he says, gripping my hand in his. "The boy couldn't stand the thought, the girl having become close to him after all their interactions. So he made provisions to move to her hometown as well. Yet he did not tell her, because even he was unsure what his feelings toward her was."

"One day, someone from the girl's past approached the boy, and the two got into a fight over the girl." I blush slightly over it, thinking about the fact that anyone would fight over me. "But then the girl appeared on the scene, and interrupted them. She sent the boy from her past away, once and for all. And after that moment, she and the boy declared their feelings to each other."

He's wearing a very soft expression on his face. I can feel my insides turning to mush.

We need to catch the story up to the present, though. Just a bit more.

"When the girl realized he was to move to her hometown with her," I say, "she was overjoyed. She could barely contain, the happiness inside of her. And . . . she realized then that she might really want to spend the rest of her life with him."

His breath catches.

I've never told him that.

That moment of certainty that I'd felt several months ago, that one night. That feeling that has been growing ever since.

"And he wonders, too," he says, his voice soft. "The boy thinks that he might just have a home with her. Right by her side, he thinks he could be happy forever."

I close my eyes, and in that moment, I find his lips on mine.

We stay like that for several moments, until neither of us can breathe anymore. Then we separate, gasping a bit.

He says, "I think you once told me that you wouldn't leave me."

"I won't," I say. "I won't."

"Good." He smiles. "Because I've told you how selfish I can be, right? And I really don't want you to leave. And I really want to stay with you. As long as you can."

"That sounds nice," I breathe out, unable to comprehend the feeling inside me, the feeling that is rising and overflowing and bubbling over. "That sounds really nice."

For a moment, he doesn't say anything, just grins down at me.

I find myself smiling back, because I love his smile. When I first met him, I barely saw it all. But then, it began to pop up every now and then, each time startling but beautiful. And I began to become familiar with it . . . and then I began to fall in love with it. The way it changes his whole demeanor and it makes him look younger, more boyish, and just . . . I love it.

And I love him.

And I don't want this moment to ever end.

I say, "This story . . . let's say it goes on for infinity, okay? There won't be an end. It's not a stand-alone novel. Not a series, either. It just goes on forever and ever and ever."

His eyes brighten slightly. "A story with no end? I like the sound of it. I don't think anyone's tried it before. Granted, if someone did write it down and kept on writing it forever, I think readers might get bored. But with ours . . ."

"With ours," I say, smiling up at him, "I don't think I will ever stop loving it."

"No," he says. "No, because that's the thing: you make up the story. You are the life of it. You brighten the pages and color the darkness. I will never stop being in love with this story, because I'll never stop loving you."

And I know, for sure, that he is right. So I don't say anything more; there is no need. Instead, I just kiss him once again, conveying all my feelings and all my love for him, and he responds in kind.

This story . . . it started out simple enough. But now, it has turned into something more incredible than I could ever have imagined.

I can't wait to see what the next chapter is about. And the one after that. And the infinite amount that the two of us will write.

A/N: I've pretty much mentioned everything I wanted to say already, but thanks once again! You guys are awesome. The Midorima/OC story that I'm going to be posting next should be up soon (within the next two weeks, I'd say).

Thank you for reading Monochrome. I hope you all enjoyed this story, and even if you didn't, I appreciate you checking it out (though if you're reading this, the last chapter, that probably means something, right?). Anyways, see you all next time!

~ J. Dominique