Platonic Love

Chapter 4

Three months later at home rocking in a swing with the son bouncing with glee on your lap, the maid calls for you. Urgent, she says in a Philippino accelerated accent. She has discovered a letter addressed to you in the walk-in wardrobe your husband and you share. In a pillow case on the study, you find an envelope titled "Haru", the ink smudged to a network of branching veins and a large spot is flurry from a previous contact with some sort of liquid. In a rush, you rip off the wax seal and scan the neat cursive- the letter is written in the same exaggerated poetic style he adopted to feed previous female customers, way back in high school with honeyed words.

Haruhi, my dearest wife.

By the time you read this, I would be flying on a straight path to eternity, somewhere, to a place up there no human has been to. Do not cry for me; do not weep in pity for me. Life's a full circle and to close the curve, life must end.

Since we were brought together by fate via the broken antique years ago, I have been madly in love with you. My undying passion is satisfied with you being by my side all these while. When I wake up to another day, my heart beams to see the sun cast radiance on you in the morning. During work, my mind wanders to thoughts of you and I know I am the luckiest man alive to have wed you. My love for you is inexpressible; I know you will understand a love like these. I want absolute happiness for you. As such, the remaining mettle spurred in me deters and dwindles when I give you freedom.

I sincerely wish you and Hikaru blessings for the near future. Since you have accepted my love, you have had the liberty to do anything you please or find joy in. As a husband, I have once pledged to take care of you for life. However I have to break that oath. My deteriorating health worried you, made you anxious and I could not fulfil my duty as a spouse, as a man to satisfy you physically. Additionally, I busied myself with work, abandon you and heaped presents onto you in apology. I ought to be ashamed of myself, yet I continued my workaholic ways with the Suoh Empire a rock on my shoulders.

I knew that you didn't love me, yet I somewhat forced you into a marriage proposal I couldn't determine if the terms and conditions will be satisfied. I knew that you love another man, but I couldn't stomach it. During the four years of marriage, I am thankful of him taking care of you, giving you the love I couldn't give and making you smile. The handsome son snug in the crib, I hope that his real father will love him as much as he adores you.

Lastly, I thank you for all the times we spent together and how you shone like a sun in the bleakness I reside in.

I love you too much, Haruhi.

Tremble, you tremble so much as if earthquakes celebrated a party in the Suou mansion. A resonant ringing in your head devastates you. So he had known all along?

Since his death, you have been uncovering missing bits of the jigsaw puzzle. To discover you miss him, your husband. At night, you hug his pillow, inhale him over again, nutrients for your soul. You rummage through his unwashed clothes and bite the fibre, tasting him all over. You feel it strengthening you, energizing your despondent actions. The melancholy lingers on anyhow. A man full of vitality could be afflicted by debilitated grief. The man you keep your love for is actually him, not the one with red hair and many girls. A locket in your heart opens and all the real hurt pours out. Overflowing the barren fields of confusion. How could you have fallen into the pit of guile where mirrors of your desires come out, distorted and oppositely inaccurate?

The ring lays on the reading table, amongst lazily scattered miscellaneous items. You pick it up, feel the hardness of the red ootoro glistering in the slanting sun rays and see your reflection on the shiny plastic glaze. He gave it to you at the temple fair but you lost it during the struggle while men from a rival company kidnapped you, but he found it lonely on the dirt and sensed danger in your path. You bring the ring, the only related connection between you and him, up to the V of your quivering lips and smile.

Pain diminishes a little while you keep smiling, fresh tears prickling the back of your eyes and you let them escape freely.

Tamaki, my husband, I am so sorry.

Will You be...My freedom
Will You be...My freedom
Will You be...My freedom
You Are... My freedom

A/N: Hope you like this story! Sorry if I have offended anyone by making Hikaru as a bastard jerk. Read on for the last chpt!