Cimmerian Ambivalence

Three Years Later

Furuya Satoru: Age 18

Miyuki Kazuya: Age 20

The twins, Furuya Semi and Miyuki Naokiko: Age 3

"Stop right there, mister criminal!"

"Semi the Superhero? Ha, you'll never catch me! These jewels are all mine!"

"Oh, yeah? Watch dis!"

Semi whips out her toy gun from behind and aims it at Miyuki. She loads it up with an orange bullet and pulls the trigger, shooting his back.

Miyuki, who was scuttling away on his knees, feels the impact and falls dramatically to the carpet. The plastic jewels in his bag scatter everywhere and he stifles a smile, trying to remain in character.

"Drats!" he exclaims as Semi hovers over him, ready to deliver the final blow, "This won't be the last of me, you meddlesome hero! You will never prevail! Never!"

"Bye, bye, villain!" Semi grins as she shoots Miyuki in the groin and he immediately curls into a ball, his soul leaving through his mouth.

"Hnghh! Semi!" he wheezes, tears in his eyes, cupping his crotch, "Y-You can't hit Daddy there, o-okay? M-Mommy won't be happy." 'Wh-Why does she play so rough? At this rate, my body won't last long!'

Still enduring the aftershocks of pain, he collapses on his stomach, and Semi giggles proudly as she parades on his back, having saved her imaginary world from a vicious career criminal.

"What's all the noise about?" Furuya asks as he walks into the living room.

Naokiko, who's sitting in the corner playing quietly with a toy baseball, points at his father, "Daddy got hurt again," he drawls.

Furuya kneels beside his son, noticing that his eyelids are drooping, "Nao, are you ready for your afternoon nap?"

He nods, yawning.

"Okay, clean up your toys first. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, Mommy."

Naokiko gathers his toys and waddles over to the designated basket. Once he's done, Furuya hoists him into his arms and brings him to the twins' room.

Miyuki, somewhat recovered from the attack on his manhood, asks for Semi to get off his back.

"It's time for your nap," he says, adjusting his glasses, "Clean up your toys, please."

Semi vigorously shakes her head, clutching her weapon, "No, Daddy! I'm not tired! Play again, pleaseee? One more!"

"We've been through this before. If you don't take a nap now, you'll be grouchy later on."

"No, I won't! Pleaseeee!"

Miyuki gives her a knowing look, tilting his head, "Semi," he implores, stressing the vowels, "I'm asking nicely."

Semi casts her gun to the floor and stomps around the living room belligerently, "I don't wanna take a nap!" she screeches defiantly, "I don't wanna, I don't wanna! I wanna keep playing with Daddy! I wanna play! It's not fair!"

Her stomping gets louder as she remains in place, her tiny feet thumping against the carpet in frustration, and Furuya reenters, folding his arms. He looks at Miyuki.

"You're just sitting there? Aren't you going to do anything about her behavior?"

Miyuki shrugs, "I don't know what to do when she gets like this. I normally wait until she tires herself out."

"That won't do anymore. She's disturbing people downstairs. Observe."

Furuya drops to Semi's height and seizes her shoulders. He leans in, frowning.

"Semi," he says assertively, lowering his tone, "I brought you into this world and I can take you out. Enough with the temper tantrum. It's time for your nap, so go. Clean. Up. Your. Toys. This is your last warning."

Semi shivers at Furuya's tone, and she sniffles as she turns and collects her playthings, "I d-don't like Mommy," she whimpers, hiccuping.

Miyuki stands next to Furuya, hands at his sides in awe, "I brought you into this world and I can take you out?" he parrots, "Jeez, did you just threaten a toddler? Where'd you learn that from?"

The raven-haired teen disagrees, "It wasn't a threat, it was discipline. She doesn't listen and she needs to respect our authority."

"See, this is why she doesn't like you and always comes to me for things. You're too harsh on her."

"And you coddle her too much. Letting her run amok because she doesn't get her way is unacceptable."

"She's a kid; temper tantrums are natural for her age."

"Not if we can help it. Next time she loses control, follow my lead."

"B-But, I can't…"

"Why not?"

Miyuki smiles sheepishly as he picks Semi up and rubs their cheeks together, "I don't want to make her upset," he says lovingly, "She's too adorable."

"You're hopeless and whipped," Furuya sighs, waving his arm dismissively, "Put her to bed."

"On it, Mommy the Drill Sergeant."

After setting Semi down, and secretly apologizing for her mother's scolding, Miyuki returns with a comb and a spray bottle filled with water. He sits on the couch and beckons Furuya to sit down between his legs.

"I realized your hair was tangled, so allow me to be a caring husband and comb it for you," he offers, "I do Semi's hair, so I totally know what I'm doing."

"I can do it myself," Furuya says. Nevertheless, he still does as he's told.

Furuya has grown his hair to the middle of his back, a commitment he's undertaken for the past few months. He would have resembled Kasumi flawlessly, a literal copy and paste had she not trimmed her hair and added highlights to it.

He liked having strands of hair to run his fingers through when he was bored, and accessorized with silver stud ear piercings, disassociating their symbolism from his middle-school days, he's enjoying his new appearance.

"Tangled was an understatement," Miyuki remarks, tugging at the lower end of Furuya's mane, "It's like a bird's nest down here. Why are you growing your hair if you aren't taking proper care of it?"

"I haven't had time to recently," Furuya explains, "I've been busy preparing for graduation."

"Oh, yeah, it's in a couple of weeks, right? Ah, I could cry tears of joy. My wife is finally graduating high school."

"You're proud of me?"

"Of course I am. Being a full-time student and parent isn't an easy feat. Everyone at Seido is proud of you."

Furuya stares at his palm, mesmerized, 'Miyuki-senpai is proud of me. I shall treasure this moment forever.'

Subsequent to graduating from Seido himself, Miyuki took a year off to raise the twins. Stocking up on advice from educational videos and Kasumi, changing diapers in record time and feeding two kids simultaneously became second nature. He also awakened a sixth sense, being able to distinguish why they were crying merely by the pitch of their voices.

Now, he's planning on applying for an online college, still wavering between majoring in business or exercise science. Kasumi had offered him a job at Yeast Infection Co.'s product development team on numerous occasions, but he rejected it. Upon meeting her three years ago, her maternal altruism had moved him profoundly. He cherished her unconditional love and support, however, he wanted to forge his own path without her aid.

Until Shinichiro offered to pay for his classes. That, he couldn't turn down.

"All done," Miyuki announces, admiring his detangling abilities, "That was quite therapeutic. That'll be fifty dollars, please."

"Whatever," Furuya says, turning around to face him, "Thank you."

"No problem. Don't take what I said earlier personally. I don't mind you growing your hair."

"I wouldn't care even if you did mind."

"Ouch, so cold. By the way, Kuramochi and Jun-san are taking the kids tomorrow. They're staying over."

"I know."

"We'll have the apartment to ourselves. Do you know what this means?"

"Not exactly."

Miyuki smirks as he jerks Furuya's hair back and whispers in his ear, "It means I can finally get some usage out of this and pull on it, if you catch my drift."

Furuya pushes his hand away, mildly repulsed yet intrigued. He chooses to display repulsion instead, lest Miyuki enacts on his words then and there, "Um, I am not growing it for your sinful practices. Besides, with how many times Semi has abused your crotch, I don't think it functions that well anymore."

"Wanna get on all fours and test that theory? Or maybe you want to use your throat?"

"You need to be disciplined, pervert."

Miyuki howls, doubling over in pain as Furuya backhands his balls and heads into the kitchen.

--

Furuya stands in the laundry room and scrutinizes the hamper. He nods to himself, plotting.

'He must be a masochist or something,' he thinks, 'Fine. So be it. I'll teach him not to get on my nerves.'

--

Dinnertime is over, and putting the twins to bed is the final task of the day.

Miyuki reads Semi a story until she knocks out, her limbs sprawled out messily.

'She's so peaceful,' Miyuki thinks as he covers her with a blanket, 'No one could ever imagine how rebellious she is and how she screams her head off like she owns the place.'

He kisses her on the forehead and stands up. He looks to Furuya who is holding Naokiko, patting his back and humming.

"You can lay him down now," he advises, "He's already asleep."

"It's alright," Furuya says, "I'll stay here and sleep with him."

"Really? Why?"

"He'll wake up and realize I'm not here and call for me."

"And you're one to say that I coddle Semi? You always do this. Nao needs to learn how to sleep on his own."

"Are you bothered about me sharing a bed with my son?"

"N-No, it's just I was looking forward to sleeping with you tonight."

"How unfortunate."

Furuya ushers Miyuki to the door, taking heavy steps.

'Crap,' Miyuki thinks as he's pushed outside, 'That cold stare of his. How he's acting. Those are the precursors to…'

Furuya puts a hand on the knob, "You'll be fine on your own. Goodnight."

"Wait! Can I get a hug?"

Miyuki leans in but Furuya swerves him.

"Do you deserve it? I don't think so," the raven-haired teen says, "Goodnight, senpai."

"But—"

"Good. Night."

The door slams in Miyuki's face and he finishes his thought, sulking.

'…to being in the doghouse.'

--

The Next Day

'I knew it. I did something wrong,' Miyuki thinks, shaking his leg absentmindedly, 'Furuya hasn't talked to me all morning.'

"Uncle Junie!" Semi shouts, beaming.

"There's my little rambunctious rascal!" Jun laughs as he scoops her up into his arms, hugging her tightly, "You've grown so much since I've last seen you! Are you happy to be with your favorite uncle for the wholeee day?"

"Yes, yes! Will I see Uncle Tecchu, too?"

"Mmhmm! He's waiting for us downstairs." 'Sorry, Tetsu, but I am definitely calling you Tecchu from now on.'

"Hi, Robomochi," Naokiko greets, sucking on his thumb.

Kuramochi picks him up and nuzzles his nose, "Sup, little man! Still well-behaved and quiet as ever, huh?"

Robomochi.

A nickname the twins had ascribed him after seeing him with a knee brace for the first time. His knees were fully healed after his accident three years ago, but he wore it occasionally as a quirky piece of fashion. Throwing in a rehearsed limp, it also granted him pity from strangers in public, though he withheld from admitting that.

When the twins seemed fascinated by it, he fabricated a nonsensical tale of how he was secretly a robot and that wearing a knee brace helped maintain his human form.

Thus, Robomochi was born.

Furuya wasn't too keen about him lying to the children, but his explosive speed when they played at the park was enough grounds to keep them convinced.

"This has everything they need," Furuya says as he slings a bag over Kuramochi's shoulder, "If anything happens, call me."

Kuramochi winks, "You don't gotta worry about us. They'll return in one piece."

"I would hope so," Furuya turns to Naokiko and ruffles his hair, "Can you be a big boy and sleep without me tonight?"

"I can try," Naokiko says determinedly, "I wanna be a big boy."

"Good. I know you can do it."

"Now that I think about it," Jun says, disregarding Semi's grubby fingers scratching at his beard, "the genetic division mitosis process, whatever the heck you call it, was literally perfect. Semi has Miyuki's whole face and hair color, and Naokiko has Furuya's. They're supposed to be twins, but they don't even look alike!"

"..."

Kuramochi lets his sentence hang in the air, unsure if he's heard it correctly, then obliterates his statement, "Jun-san, how could you say that with so much confidence?! They're fraternal twins, not identical! Did you not know? Aren't you studying biology?"

Jun clamps his hand over his mouth, embarrassed, "Oh, no…then I got that question wrong on my bio test last week…"

"Hyahaha! I can't believe you're older than me sometimes. Anyway, we should get going. Nao, say bye to your mom."

Naokiko plants a kiss on Furuya's cheek and Semi does the same to Miyuki.

Once they're outside, Kuramochi and Semi start cackling.

"Hey, Semi, have you been giving your father a hard time like I asked?" the green-haired male asks sinisterly.

The toddler nods, mimicking his menacing expression.

Kuramochi gives her a high-five, "Excellent, young one. Keep it up and I'll teach you some more wrestling moves." 'Hyaha! Miyuki, you must be a fool to think we're cool now. I will give you endless back pain and headaches through your own daughter. Suffer eternally, four-eyes.'

--

In the afternoon, Miyuki attentively observes Furuya's actions around the house. Whether he was cleaning, typing on his phone, or even pouring a glass of water, he didn't spare him a single glance as if he were invisible.

Miyuki would intentionally block his path, but Furuya would veer past him without breaking his stride, sighing loudly and flipping his hair.

'Crap, he's fuming,' Miyuki thinks, sitting at the kitchen dining table, 'His version of the cold shoulder is the absolute worst. He makes it unbearable on purpose. What did I do, though? I honestly can't think of anything. I wish he would just tell me instead of pretending I don't exist.'

Furuya walks in. Fancying the kids' snacks, he opens the fridge and retrieves a yogurt stick.

Miyuki capitalizes on this opportunity to free himself from the doghouse, "Hey, can you pass me one? I could use a snack, too."

Furuya robotically gestures to the open fridge as if he's saying, come get it yourself.

Miyuki sighs, "You're already there; toss me one. Don't make this difficu—you know what, never mind. It's not even about the yogurt. Why are you mad at me? Why aren't you talking to me?"

"You know why," Furuya sasses, closing the fridge.

"Three words, that's a start. The kids are gone, so come here and sit down so we can resolve this like actual adults. Communicating, that's what adults do if you weren't aware."

"Don't talk to me like that."

"Six words, even better."

Furuya rolls his eyes as he takes a seat at the dining table, crossing his legs.

"We're getting somewhere," Miyuki says, sensing Furuya's lividity from his posture alone, "If I screwed up or did something to upset you, how about you voice your concerns? That way, I can correct my mistakes and we can resume normality. Okay?"

Furuya sucks on his yogurt stick for a while before answering, "I can't believe you forgot."

"A bit vague, but that's progress. So, I forgot something. Let's see, our anniversary isn't approaching anytime soon and neither is the twins' birthday, or yours. Wanna give me some more hints?" 'What is this, twenty-one questions?'

"I reminded you to do it countless times. You still forgot."

Miyuki squints, racking his brain, "It, huh? So, it's something I had to do…Furuya, you're killing me here! Why am I playing detective when you're the person who has an issue with me? Spit it out already, I'm begging you!"

Furuya glares icy daggers at him, clenching his yogurt stick, "The laundry, Miyuki-senpai. The laundry."

Miyuki blinks twice, baffled, "What? That's it? I mean, I did forget, but you were crushing my soul and giving me the silent treatment because of laundry?"

"It's not as trivial as you're making it sound. Do you know why Naokiko was sad earlier this morning? He wanted to wear his favorite shirt, but it was dirty since you didn't do the laundry. It took hours to console him."

Miyuki studies Furuya's downcast expression, his bottom lip sticking out and his eyebrows narrowing. They didn't claim to have favorites, but Furuya and Naokiko were inseparable, similar to him and Semi.

Furuya bore the brunt of his son's emotions, especially when he was unhappy. It was an emotional bond that tied a figurative string around his heart, and Miyuki tripped over that string by neglecting to do his one fucking job:

Not make Furuya upset.

If Kuramochi or Jun ever caught wind of this, he would be crucified until the end of time and beyond.

"I apologize," Miyuki says softly, rubbing Furuya's knee, "I didn't realize how important that was to you. I shouldn't have forgotten. I'll do it first thing in the morning. I promise."

"Are you sure? Do you really promise?"

"One hundred percent. Nao can wear his favorite shirt all day tomorrow, and I'll apologize to him, too."

Furuya finishes his yogurt stick and stands up, "I'll see to it that you do," he says, "I'm also sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. You were right about the communication thing. I guess…I should rely on you more to understand my feelings."

"Pfft—"

"…what's so funny?"

Miyuki bursts into laughter as he intertwines his fingers behind the small of Furuya's back, "You forced yourself right there, didn't you? You're not sorry about ignoring me in the slightest! You do it all the time because you enjoy punishing me and you suck at communicating!"

Furuya groans in irritation as he struggles to escape his husband's clutches, "Your attitude is unbelievable," he criticizes, "Don't make fun of me. Don't address my flaws so casually. Do anything except having a twisted personality."

"Aw, that's boring!" Miyuki grins, tightening his hold on his spouse, "Also…is there anything else you want me to do? Specifically…to you?"

His amber eyes glow dangerously, radiating with carnal desire.

Furuya summons a great amount of strength to release himself, feeling overwhelmed by Miyuki's heavy, suggestive gaze, "I have homework to do, you shameless hedonist," he says, flustered.

He begins walking to the living room, then stops and turns around.

"You really do "pull" my hair sometimes, senpai."

Furuya carries on and Miyuki's grin widens as he runs after him, catching the hint he's thrown at him ever so subtly.

'You're shameless yourself, idiot.'

--

"It's tangled again," Furuya frets, touching the end of his mane, "and we need to disinfect the couch. The kids can't possibly sit on it after what we did."

Knees to his chest, he's sitting in front of Miyuki who is passed out on the couch in his underwear, having overindulged in their intimate time alone.

Furuya gently removes Miyuki's glasses and sets them aside. He runs his fingers along the side of his neck, thumbing his sideburns, as he seeps into thought.

'When I see you like this, I can't help but feel a bit reflective. Are you enjoying life with Semi and Naokiko? Are you enjoying life with me? This probably isn't how you predicted our paths would unfold, right? You made a mistake, and these past three years have simply been you suffering the repercussions, redeeming yourself, rebuilding your character. Atoning. Because you impregnated me, contradicting the laws of science, I stripped you of your prowess and promise as a catcher.

'Those sensations of locking eyes with a pitcher on the mound, beads of sweat cascading down your face behind the metal grid of your mask, that split second when you spring to your feet and throw with all your might, getting the batter out. You missed out on two years of that intrinsic thrill and it was my fault. I was desperate to find answers and discover who was accountable for my unexpected pregnancy, and it was you. I changed the course of fate and dragged you into my world, hoping for you to take responsibility. And you did, not without putting up a fight, of course.

'So, when I see you having fun with the kids, smiling and laughing, or when I bask in the warmth of you embracing me at night, I…I can't refrain from thinking that something is lacking. It's all superficial. Your smiles and laughs are hollow, your warmth has this odd coldness wafting in, cold to the point where I have to turn away. You're only playing your role out of obligation, aren't you? This cumbersome father and husband role at twenty years old, when you could have gone pro. When you close your eyes, do you dream about it? When we catch a game on television or visit the new players at Seido, do you fantasize about wearing your gear again? That is the one thing I haven't been able to understand about you, Miyuki-senpai—your emotions.

'Unless you purposely tell me, I never know what's going through your head. You're an enigma that I can't decode. On the other hand, I know exactly how I feel. I love you. I love you. I love you. I can say it repeatedly until I fall sick because it's true. That fluttering in my heart and in the pit of my stomach whenever you do just about anything is clear, solid proof. I fell in love when I was pretending to be unconscious after my delivery, and you sat there wishing that I would wake up. You wanted me in your life, needed me, and at that very moment, my heart swelled. It hasn't stopped swelling as I continued loving you for all these years, and I want to keep loving you.

'But…what about you? Does your heart swell when we're together? That nervous fluttering, do you feel it, too? Probably not, since those experiences aren't part of your obligation. You married me for security, not love. You stayed with me because you wanted revenge against your family by properly raising your own, not love. When you kiss me during sex or to appease me when I'm moody, it's not out of love. Your slow kisses are passionate and make me dizzy, but that's solely because you're good at kissing, not because you love me.

'Why, Miyuki-senpai? Why are you so harsh to me without even trying to be? I know you don't mean it, but it hurts tremendously. Sometimes, I get these random pangs in my chest where I can't breathe, as if being unloved is physically deteriorating me. Formerly, I believed I would be satisfied just having you stay by my side. I realized I was mistaken. Gravely mistaken. I'm starving, I'm craving to hear those three words, Miyuki-senpai. Casually saying "Love ya" as you leave to run an errand or when you're teasing me doesn't suffice. If you told me you loved me, even if it slipped out of pleasure, I would believe you.

'I opted to stop saying it so often because you would get fidgety, not knowing how to respond, or you would squeeze my hand or peck me on the cheek. It's not fair. Why am I the only one burdened by this? It's not fair. On the surface, you're doing everything a husband and father can. However, there's one thing you can't do, and that is love me back. Is it hard? Is it scary? Are you simply not attracted to me despite all the moments we've shared, or are you still punishing yourself? Am I being selfish for wanting more than what you're capable of giving me?

'I'm not sure. Until you give me an answer or say that you love me with those irresistible lips of yours, right here, in my bleeding heart…I'll keep feeling empty inside. Hurting, craving, hoping.'

Miyuki stirs awake, yawning, "Damn, how long was I out? Furuya, is that you?"

"Y-Yes." Furuya regains his composure and hands him his glasses.

Vision restored, Miyuki looks at his spouse's face, still morose despite his efforts to conceal it.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, "What were you thinking about?"

"My hair," Furuya lies, averting his gaze, "I was just upset that it got tangled again after you worked so hard to fix it."

"Are you sure that's it? Be honest."

"I am."

"...hmm. Alright. That's mostly my fault, so don't worry. I got ahead of myself," Miyuki checks the time and gasps, "It's almost six! They're gonna be showing reruns of that show we watched three years ago. You know, the one where the dude crashed onto the car? Wanna watch that while I do your hair?"

"You're still obsessed with that drama?"

"I was never one for cheesy television programs, but it was pretty memorable and genuinely captivating."

"Sure. We can watch it."

Miyuki changes into a shirt and sweatpants while Furuya turns on the TV. The former returns with the comb and spray bottle, reopening his makeshift salon.

"Senpai," Furuya says five minutes into the detangling session.

"Yeah?"

Miyuki's already craning his neck, so Furuya barely turns to kiss him deeply.

Miyuki smirks, caught by surprise, "Mmm, that was nice. You're making me want to start round two. What was that for?"

"Oh, nothing."

--

"Hang on, where are you going? Aren't you coming to bed?"

"I'll stay in the spare bedroom," Furuya says from down the hall, "I have to pull an all-nighter with my homework and I don't want to disturb you. Rather, I don't want you disturbing me."

Miyuki's shoulders droop, disheartened, "You're really going to make me sleep alone again? You're cruel."

"Graduating is of paramount importance to me. I'm terribly sorry that having the bed to your lonesome is your mortal enemy."

"There goes that snark, using big words you just learned to insult me. How resourceful," Miyuki chuckles as he walks down to Furuya and hugs him, "If you need help, let me know. If I'm knocked out, consider yourself screwed."

"Whatever," Furuya retorts, "Not that you'd be of much help anyway." He holds onto his husband tightly before letting go.

"Heh, yeah right. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

They share a quick kiss. Miyuki waves and then disappears into the master bedroom.

Furuya remains in the hallway for some time. He utters a single sentence before entering the spare bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

"I love you, Miyuki-senpai."

--

The Next Day

Miyuki is up bright and early at seven in the morning, intent on completing this damned load of laundry.

He piles the clothes into the washer but halts upon realizing that they're low on detergent.

'Fantastic,' he thinks sarcastically, 'Guess I'll head to the convenience store and buy a new bottle.'

He pockets his wallet and keys and jogs to the front door, "Furuya!" he shouts, "I'm going to the store, there's no more detergent! Wait, why am I yelling? He's a heavy sleeper; he can't even hear me."

He returns ten minutes later. Going back to the laundry room, he starts the wash cycle and pours the detergent inside through the designated compartment.

'There we go,' he thinks, dusting his hands, 'Now, Furuya will be at ease. Speaking of Furuya, I should go check on him. He's probably slumped over his homework and drooling. No matter how mature he claims to be, he's still a child.'

Miyuki tiptoes to the spare bedroom where he finds Furuya laying in bed.

'Whoa, he actually took care of himself and went to bed? I'm impressed. He deserves a reward.'

Miyuki crouches at his side and caresses his face, then freezes.

Furuya's skin is cold.

"Furuya?" Miyuki calls worriedly, shaking him, "Why are you so cold? Are you okay?"

No response.

"Furuya? Hey, can you hear me? The kids will arrive soon. You have school in a few hours."

Miyuki shakes him once more, his bottom lip quivering with fear and confusion. Trepidation sets in insidiously as he shakes him aggressively, the bed creaking from the force, but he's not generating a reply.

"Furuya? Furuya! Wake up! Furuya! Hey, can you hear me? What's wrong? Are you hurt? Tell me so I can help you! Furuya!"

Miyuki lifts a hesitant finger underneath the teen's nose.

There's no respiration.

He presses two fingers against his neck.

There's no pulse.

He rips the covers off.

His chest has lost its rhythm, no longer rising and falling.

Miyuki's eyes dilate as he hyperventilates, running a hand through his hair in denial, "No, no, no, Furuya, no," he wails, a rush of salty tears flooding down his face. His nose burns and his throat feels like it's being strangled by barbwire.

"Furuya, no. I need you. The kids. The kids need you. Wake up, okay? Like, that prank where you pretended you were still in a coma was funny and all, but I'm not laughing right now. Furuya, please open your eyes, I can't, this is, what…Satoru!"

A grayish hue shadows Furuya's eyelids. His brows are neither furrowed nor raised. His lips are slightly parted, the delicate pair of flesh chapped from dryness. His luscious strands of raven hair are fanned out beneath his body. His right hand is placed over his heart, once tugging at his shirt.

Scrunching up his face, Miyuki makes a wet, guttural noise as reality twists its knife deep and stabs him repeatedly, bleeding incessant tears and anguished cries in place of blood.

"Why…how…I don't understand…I just saw you last night..."

He pats Furuya down frantically, searching for any sign of injury or self-harm, but his body is completely intact.

Then, he notices Furuya's phone laying next to him. At his wit's end, he grabs it and unlocks it, still without a password.

It automatically displays the Notes app. Furuya had typed a message, and Miyuki vigorously wipes his tears away to read it.

--The time is currently 2:56 AM. Miyuki-senpai, I read something fascinating long ago. Apparently, people are able to tell when it's their time to go. I was curious. How is that possible, I thought, so I continued reading. It's not some supernatural occurrence where you hear a voice or see a radiant light guiding you through a tunnel. It's more of a wave of calmness washing over you, telling you that everything is going to be alright.

After completing my homework, I went to the kitchen for a glass of water. That was when I experienced it, that eerie yet soothing calmness. It was then that I knew. Strangely enough, I wasn't sad or anxious. I didn't panic. I roamed around the apartment silently, looking at our family portraits, cleaning, eating another yogurt stick, waiting for it to happen. I got tired of waiting, so I went back to bed and started writing this. Typing, rather. I think that's enough exposition, so I'll get straight to the point.

I'm sorry for ignoring you whenever I'm upset. We could have used that extra time to talk more. Clearly, communicating is not my strongest quality. I'll miss the twins as well. I wonder how Naokiko will fare without me, seeing how he's sensitive and has separation anxiety. You'll have your hands full with Semi, but she will need you more than ever to guide her.

Regrets? Yes, I have a couple. Allow me to list them briefly, I am trying to fight the lull of sleep. I wanted to watch the twins grow up wonderfully. I wanted you to catch for me again. On the diamond, the sun's rays beating down against us, my pitches slamming into your mitt, our reliable teammates' voices cheering us on. I regret not having enough time to see you get accepted to and graduate college. Whatever you plan on pursuing, I know you'll excel at it. You're Miyuki Kazuya, after all.

My final regret is that I never got to hear you say that you love me. For three years, I waited patiently, ears open, expectant. It was painful, Miyuki-senpai, enduring this vacancy residing within me that I wanted you to occupy with your affection. Sincere or not, I yearned for the day you said it, fulfilling me, fulfilling my life. In retrospect, aside from not having my feelings returned, loving you brought me great joy, and I hope that throughout our short journey together, I was able to satiate the void in your heart.

If so, I needn't ask for anything else. Thank you for letting me love you.

P.S. Do the laundry.--

After using Furuya's phone to call an ambulance, it clatters to the floor as Miyuki latches onto Furuya's body, nestling his head in the crook of his neck. He sighs heavily as he inhales what's left of his scent, trembling uncontrollably.

Miyuki's tear and mucus-soaked lips whisper five words he forever dreaded having to say into Furuya's ear.

"You broke our promise, Furuya…"