Chapter Text
Ryoma put down the letter in his hand for the nth time that day and looked up at the ceiling with a defeated expression on his face. There was a heavy weight on his chest; a sickness in his gut that started to fill him.
It was a few minutes past two in the afternoon. The sun outside was bright and the air was cool. On the table counter in the kitchen of his Paris apartment, Ryoma's phone continued lighting up from all the notifications he was receiving. He had several friendly matches lined up that day. None of which he showed up to.
"I told him not to give it to you." Ryoma could remember Tezuka tell him. But by then, his mind was already some place else. All he could see was the envelope that his old teammate gave him.
In the cafe where they met, Ryoma examined the envelope; it was thin and worn out; and on the back, his name was written in a handwriting all too familiar to him. He sat there, dumbstruck and so out of it that, by the time he finally opened the letter, he didn't realize Tezuka had already excused himself.
Bit by bit, he peeled off the edges of the paper with a tremor in his hands, with a suffocating trepidation. And, when he opens the parchment inside, Ryoma-kun, is all he reads before he immediately closes the letter and looks away; his face entirely drained of color.
Ryoma-kun, the letter had started; he finds when he tries to read it again in the confines of his home. I don't mean to alarm you or burden you by writing you this letter. This isn't anything much, really. Whatever weight it may have is mine to bear alone.
You must be surprised to be reading this after all our time apart. As much as I'd want to say that our separation was brought by the hectic schedule of planning a wedding, I know I'd be lying. There is nothing more to say. I was avoiding you.
I know it was so selfish of me. Especially after imposing on you during my last visit. I came to you back then, with the pretense of inviting you to my wedding. When I knew that I spent all that time, all that I could afford, to finally end my doubts about us. I traveled nearly halfway across the globe to ask you, if you were in love with me. It's a selfish question. A very foolish question to ask someone you've known all your life, but I was going crazy. I still must be, because I can't stop thinking of you even with my wedding around the corner.
Do you hate me for saying this? You must hate me. In your eyes, how could I dare think of this when I have the love of an incredible person like Shuusuke. This confession must be so juvenile to you, so absurd. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm weak.
So, just this once, in my mind, let me be strong. Let me be bold enough to tell you how I've always been in love with you.
We've spent so much time together, I'm certain you must have known. And I've always known in my heart that you made sure to keep a safe distance in case I misunderstand our relationship. I know, deep in my heart, that I've always been nothing more and nothing less than a good friend. I know that my feelings for you are one-sided.
But I've grown delirious. Because when I look back at our relationship, I think that maybe I read it wrong. Maybe I should have tried. Maybe I should have told you. Maybe that would have made a difference. I must be mad. I was certain I was. And back then, I thought that if I didn't ask you, if I didn't hear it from your lips, I would go mad.
I met with you under those circumstances that night in New York. Throughout my flight, I thought that I'd just nip it in the bud and ask you the first moment I see you. But I didn't, did I? I never did. Because when I met you, (I remember, fondly I might add -you wore such an irritated expression when we met) I knew then and there what I had known all along. It's been a while since we were together. But seeing you was all I needed to sober up.
That whole night we spent dancing in that strange club, watching you dance around so happily with everyone was like a dream. You must have been in a foul mood the whole time. I know how annoying I must have been. And I know how much you hate crowds, noise, now that I think of it, everything about that place really. But you were a saint that night. And you don't know how happy you made me.
Had you said that night that you loved me. Had you asked me to be with you instead, I would have done so in a heartbeat.
But, of course, and as I knew, you didn't. You don't love me. You never did.
Did you know I cried myself to sleep that night? Did you know how depressed I've been since that night? When I flew to you, I thought I wanted to know the truth about us. Instead, I've come to realize that I wanted to hear you say you were in love with me too.
I'm sorry for being so selfish. I'm sorry for pushing you away without warning. I was immature. I still am. I can't begin to imagine how many people I was willing to hurt just to be with you. I can't begin to imagine how selfish I must have been. But, I'm trying, Ryoma-kun. I'm doing my best to get past this so we can be as we've always been. I must be a fool for wanting more. I must be a fool for wanting to be with you.
I've grown so comfortable with you that I've deluded myself into thinking we could be together romantically. And I only have myself to blame.
You're incredible, Ryoma-kun. And, more than anyone else, I should know that being your friend is more than enough.
By the time you read this, you'd be preparing for my wedding with the others. By this time, you'll know how I've always felt about you. I know this may seem like a lie since I'll be married to someone else.
Still, somehow, I wanted to tell you. I wanted you to know before I start this new life. I want to start fresh with the knowledge that, against all odds, I'll still have you by my side, in this next stage in my life.
How long has it been, Ryoma couldn't think straight. There was a haze in his vision, a wetness in his eyes he couldn't blink away.
Two years, a voice in the back of his mind tells him. Two years of having cut ties with Sakuno out of nowhere. Two years since the wedding he never attended. Maybe, the voice wanders, maybe if you had attended her wedding,
Ryoma starts to crumple the foxed piece of paper in his hand,
Maybe you would've gotten the letter,
The pain in his face was immeasurable, the guilt, the remorse-
And maybe,
He couldn't breathe.
You wouldn't have lost her.