"Don't leave. Please." I begged her to stop, begged her to put down her bags, and begged her not to leave. "You promised, you promised you would always stay, you promised you would never leave." She never spoke a word. She just went about, clearing everything. The curtains we bought together when you first started to make the house a home, the pictures of us that you forced me to take with you, the little decorations you would put up then ask my opinion on and be pleased with yourself regardless of what I said. You took everything away, every little bit, every single memory, as you swept across the apartment on your way out. All I could do was trail after you, pleading with you to stop, begging you to stay with me, and selfishly reminding you of all your promises to me trying to guilt you into staying. "Please, don't go. Please." You never even turned to look at me. The door closed in my face.
Don't go. I love you. Please, don't go.

I jolted awake, the train swaying as it turned a corner. I had beads of cold sweat on my forehead, I couldn't breathe without feeling a sharp pain, and my body's numb. These are all symptoms of nightmares that I've had every day and every night. That scene didn't really happen, at least, I wasn't there when it did. I buried my face in my hands.

Stop. Enough.

I remembered returning back to the apartment after a month, so unsure, so uncertain, and so terrified. The prospect of an empty apartment waiting for me, the thought of it frightened me immensely. I remembered leaning against the door, afraid to go in.

But the fool in me just wouldn't shut up.
Maybe, just maybe, she might be waiting for me behind this door. Maybe, just maybe, she truly loves me. Maybe, just maybe, she'll stay for me. Maybe being with you turned me into this fool, still desperately holding on to you, desperately holding on to mere memories of you.

So I opened the door, with this tiny spark of hope in me. Maybe you'll be smiling at me, chiding me for being late. Maybe you'll be sleeping on the couch, tired after waiting for me, maybe it had all been a terrible nightmare and you would be there to kiss the pain away. Little did I know, that my nightmare was just beginning.

I opened the door, took one look, and sank to the floor.

I trembled all over, black spots appearing in my vision.
Cold. It's so cold. It's so cold, that it hurts to be alive.
My head was pounding. My body's numb.

All I could do was sit on the floor, holding my head in my hands. For what seemed like forever, I was too afraid to look up, too afraid to think. I thought that if I didn't think of it then maybe it wouldn't be true. Maybe, just maybe, you were in the bathroom and you would be coming out soon. Maybe, just maybe, you went out for a short while and will be returning soon. Maybe, just maybe, you would still be here to hold me when I'm trembling like this. Maybe, just maybe, you would be home soon to hold me with those warm hands of yours, softly whispering kind words to comfort me.

So I kept my position on the floor as my reasoning grew more and more far-fetched. Maybe you were held up at work. Maybe you were buying dinner. Maybe you were busy chatting with Yori that you lost track of time. Maybe you didn't visit me in the hospital because you thought I was away working outstation all this while. Maybe I entered the wrong apartment and you were home waiting for me.

Maybe, everything was just a dream.
Maybe, you were a figment of my imagination.
Maybe, I've already sunk to Level E and everything about you was just in my head, part of my insanity.

Because there was nothing here to remind me that you were ever here. Nothing that indicated that you once lived here with me. Nothing at all. Everything was gone. Everything looked exactly as it used to look before you came. Cold. Colder than ever.

But I could smell, see, and feel what used to be us. Slumped at the door, every scene that ever took place between us here played out before my eyes. Visions of you preventing me from putting a bullet through my skull, you chasing me when I attempted to leave, you falling asleep in my arms every night, us making love; us kissing in the morning; you telling me that you loved me and me telling you I loved you.

Memories I feared were only in my head, only just a dream. These visions taunted me, dancing across my confused mind. I stoned there till nightfall. I didn't move till daybreak. You had swept the apartment bare. There was nothing left, just as how I had been reduced to nothing. There was nothing to confirm that you existed, that we existed here. And trying to make sense of it all drove me mad.

Hold on!
There is one thing you may not have found.

I leapt to my feet, sprinting towards the chest of drawers. I rummaged at the bottom till I found it. As my fingers grasped it, I felt my head clear the same time as my chest constricted. I held it tightly in my hand, as if my life depended on it. Truth be told, it did. If I hadn't found it, I would surely have gone mad with images of you in my head that I wasn't sure were real or not. This object confirmed that you existed as I slowly regained some sense of clarity and surety.

But it also confirmed that you were gone. As suddenly as you had appeared in my life, you had left. And I was left behind, an even more broken, even more bruised, even more torn up man than the one you first met in the bar.

But maybe, just maybe, you would come back. I deluded myself into thinking that for the next few weeks and months. I'm still deluding myself now, aren't I. Leaving the keys where they used to be, thinking perhaps, just maybe, you would come home. I didn't change a thing. I was still waiting.

I slammed my head against the window of the train. I found myself trembling again.
Stop. Enough.
But the fool in me wouldn't shut up, quietly praying that maybe, just maybe, you loved me more than him; maybe, just maybe, you would leave him one day; maybe, just maybe, we could be together again.
Shut up, fool. Just shut up.

Because, every one of us, at some point or the other, has tried making foolish excuses/reasons in the name of love.
I've been there and done that, so this chapter was sort of easy to write. I hope I managed to convey the feeling accurately.

This was written in Zero's POV. If you realize, he says that he still leaves the key where it used to be. Which was how Yuki managed to enter his apartment in chapter 3.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter and stay tuned for the next one =)