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“I love you. Whether I'm here or not. I'll love you.” She said to him, in a soft, hushed whisper as they sat underneath the stars.
Placed upon his lap as he's settled down on the grass, her palms against his chest as she leans in, her forehead pressed against his own while her eyelids flutter closed. Her tone stays gentle, loving, honest, adoration dripping like honey just through the sound of her voice.
“What are you on about?” He mumbles, agitated at the sudden suggestion, the underlying hinted topic giving him chills and unwanted thoughts. His rough palms squeeze at her sides, as if to say “You're not going anywhere.”
She shakes her head as a sigh, almost inaudible, almost going unnoticed, slips past her lips. “I'm not as strong as you are. I can't rely on you, or anyone else, to save me if I fail.”
She speaks earnestly, no self-doubt, no comparison in her words, just truth and comfort if she ever ceases to protect herself.
She winces slightly as his hold on her tightens. Not enough to bring pain, but just enough to get his point across without having to utter it with words.
“Stop.”
“I'm by your side.”
“You're staying right here with me.”
“You're not going anywhere.”
None of these remarks leave his thoughts. Not a single sentence voices itself.
He brings one hand up, leaving the other on her waist. His palm caresses her cheek, his thumb gently brushes over her cheekbone. He isn't a gentle man, nor a quiet man, but for the time being, he basks in her comfort, her being, her.
He closes his eyes as their lips brush. A moment of intimacy. An expression of love without words.
The calm before the storm.
╾─────────
She can't breathe. She can't speak. Her vision is failing, blurring. Spots layer around her field of sight. A black overlay settles itself above her eyes. Her eyelids are heavy, droopy. She's tired. Her chest feels as if the weight of a thousand soldiers are marching across her lithe body all at once and back again.
Faint calls of her name can be heard through her in-and-out auditory range. Her sister's voice screaming for her.
“-with me! Stay with me, Kanae!”
She feels dainty arms, similar to that of her own, wrapping around her, bringing a sort of comfort to the hectic atmosphere, the panic in the air, and throbbing pain within her being. A familiar hold, a familiar scent.
“Shinobu, I'm sorry.”
She can't say it. Her lungs are on fire, filled to the brim with blood, threatening to stop pumping air throughout her body at any given second.
Barely managing to open her eyes, she sees her sister's tear stained face, hears her desperate cries and pleas for her to “Just stay with me.”
She can't. She wishes she could. She knows she can't. She knows she's done. Her body is screaming for her to stop fighting it. It hurts. She's tired. She knows she'll take her last breath soon.
“-m sorry.” It's barely audible, barely there, but it's the best she can do.
Shinobu shakes her head, holds her tight, refusing to let go, refusing to accept her end.
A sudden thought hits her. Shinobu knows who she's going to ask for.
“-nemi.”
She coughs out, blood dripping from her lips, coating the fabric of her clothes.
“Sanemi.” She tries again. Shinobu's head turns.
Kanae's body is giving up on her, rejecting her commands. She can't turn to look at him, she can't see him, but she knows he's there.
I'm sorry. I wanted more for us.
She wasn't foolish enough to believe they'd never die. She wasn't delusional enough to believe they'd go at the same time. She always knew she would leave him behind. She always knew he was stronger than her.
I wanted to spend more time with you.
She was sure to remind him of her feelings daily. He wasn't the type to confess his love outwardly or vocally, but she was. He told her he loved her with the way he looked at her, the way he touched her when they were alone, the way he would kiss her as if he couldn't breathe without inhaling her oxygen.
She told him she loved him when she took his hand, cared for his wounds, and leaned in with hushed whispers of “I love you” meant only for him.
I wanted to stay by your side.
She had plans for them. She didn't dare let herself believe she'd achieve those goals before they lost their lives, before she lost hers, but she had dreams. Someday she wanted to be his wife. She wanted to start a family with him. She daydreamed about the soft little pitter patters of small feet running around their shared home. Just for them. The way Sanemi would chastise their children for being too rambunctious and rowdy, traits they'd definitely gain from him. The way she would smile fondly as he cared for them in his own way. The way she would gently rock them to sleep or sing lullabies to them. Who would they look more like? Maybe they'd have multiple children, some who would look like him, some who would look like her, some who would favor both.
I wish we could have grown together.
Her hopes, her dreams, her fantasies, they were all gone now. Nothing but a fool's fairytale. She would never see him down on one knee. She would never know what it feels like to carry his children, to have him caress her stomach and announce their budding family. She would never know his touch again. She wishes she had known that the last time they had been alone was their last shared moment together.
Her thoughts were starting to become a jumbled mess. Her brain was starting to malfunction. She couldn't think. Her body was giving out on her. She felt tears streaming from her eyes and blood pouring from her wounds, spilling from her lips.
It hurts.
She's tired.
Sanemi watches from the sidelines.
“No.”
His hands twitch. His legs stay firmly planted. He's at a standstill, disbelief falling over him.
“No.” His thoughts repeat.
What he would give to go back to that night.
To tell her that he'd be by her side.
What he would give to have been by her side the moment she was doomed.
Why hadn't he said it back then?
“I love you too.”
What was so hard about saying it out loud?
“Why didn't I tell her?”
“It's too late.”
She was dying. Right in front of him. Just a few feet away. He couldn't stop it. He couldn't save her. He couldn't ease her pain. He couldn't bring her back once she took her final breath.
She's dying.
She's dying.
It hit him like a load of bricks falling straight onto his chest, his lungs, his heart.
He watched as Shinobu cried, screamed, begged for her sister's life.
He watched as Kanae lifted a trembling hand, pathetically weak from the brink of death, and placed it upon her younger sister's cheek. He watched as Kanae's lips moved ever so slightly, only to be followed by a gush of blood flowing through a coughing fit.
He watched the pain take over her expression, watched as her lungs squeezed around her chest, threatening to end her supply of air for even daring to speak.
He watched as Shinobu's head turned towards him.
“She's calling for you.”
His body was frozen in place. His legs had completely forgotten how to move, how to walk.
“Move.”
He tried to will himself. He couldn't.
She's dying.
She's dying.
She's dying.
“Go, you idiot.”
He took one small, shaky step.
He was a man of no fear, no shame, no regret.
Until he met her.
Now his one fear was coming to light. Right in front of him.
He'd lost too many loved ones to the hands of demons.
He was losing another.
The one he was meant to spend his life with.
The one he was meant to build a family with.
The one he loved like no other.
Shinobu froze.
Kanae's palm dropped from her cheek in one harsh thud against her chest, as if gravity suddenly increased around no one but her.
Shinobu came to a visible halt.
Kanae's chest rose once, fell once.
It never rose back up.
Shinobu screamed. Agonizing pain, regret, emotion bubbling up in the form of tears and pleading cries.
She's gone.
Sanemi couldn't move. He felt droplets against his cheeks.
Is it raining?
No.
He's crying.
She's gone.
His legs started to move.
Slow steps. Shaky steps.
His breath was caught in his lungs, refusing to allow him another inhale, as if this were his fault, as if he deserved to stop breathing along with her.
His tears flowed down his cheeks in silent sobs.
She's gone.
His steps slowed and came to a pause as he stared at his lover's paling face. Still as beautiful as she was when there was color to her cheeks, light to her eyes, warmth to her being.
She's dead.
He dropped to his knees on the other side of her, the side unoccupied by the younger Kocho sister. He took her hand in his, her skin, her touch much less warm than the last time he'd held her.
Her gentle smile, her loving touch, the way she would kiss him when they were alone, the way she would calm him down when he got too riled up.
Gone.
All of it.
Along with her.
Along with her love.
No.
She said she'll love him whether she's here or not.
He'll love her whether she's here or not.
They'll be lovers in the afterlife.
They'll be lovers in their next life.
And every life after that.
Life has to end. Love doesn't.