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The duty of being a life-flashing witness was slammed dunked to Kageyama Ritsu as he held Spoon in his arms. Spoon, the first spoon he'd ever dated. He felt the tears forming in his eyes, felt the stainless steel in his hand growing colder, yet none of this impeded the vision.
Images of the spoon factory, a simple piece of cutlery in the midst of countless identical others. Mechanical clunks and spoons being born. Other spoons were being picked out and melted back into hot metal, reshaped, trying to make it perfect and ordinary and conforming. Spoon was fine, though. Spoon was okay. Next station, moving forward, don't look back.
Sorting. A truck ride, all those boxes being arranged on the shelf by some college kid who's underpaid and overworked and nearing her assignment deadlines and just wants a break really. The crampedness yet openness of sitting in a box sandwiched between the clear plastic cover in the front and other spoons behind. The view of other purchasable cutleries in their respective packages, and the possibilities beheld when humans walked pass. Someone picked up that box of spoons.
The basket, for a moment, then a short beep and into a plastic bag. All through the cheap plastic packaging.
"Stay with me, please!" Ritsu said in between glimpses of the past, doing his best not to wail or raise his voice, so Spoon wouldn't have it's last moments filled with sorrowful cries, so Spoon wouldn't hear his voice break. "It'll be okay, please."
His thoughts were jumbled yet at the same time focused on only one thing.
Days of sitting in a musty drawer and days of being scooped into rice and soup. Either too quiet or too overwhelming, but that was okay, honestly. Soapy water and drying racks. Over and over again, almost like a routine but not really. Being bent and twisted, by whom, Ritsu knew. Food scattering and being bent back into shape by familiar hands. The sound of tissues being pulled out of their box. Apologies and chides. A regular family dinner.
Being dropped on the floor, one, two times, and being rinsed off in the sink and back onto the drying rack. Being left dirty for a while, the rough side of the dish sponge. Hot water may or may not have gotten the oil off easier, but it felt nicer, at least. It had always been the same brand of soap, for years. Sunlight brand, green and lime-scented.
"I can't lose you," Ritsu said, his voice dropping even quieter. The tears were falling. He wiped them with his sleeve. Spoon said nothing. He wiped his face again and took a deep breath. His sleeve was soaked now, but he couldn't give up, not in front of Spoon. His pleading was beginning to sound pathetic. He knows, he knows he can't do anything.
Times of drama and love and feelings and dates to the coconut ice cream shop. Naruto and confessions and promises and walks along the river and an encounter with a spirit. Being dropped into the river, cold currents washing away everything. Some weird kid and something about another planet. There had been some sort of scuffle. And after that, a moment where everything was great and everything that happened before didn't really matter, yet was everything at the same time. This boy, Ritsu, meant the world to Spoon. That's okay.
"I'm sorry, Spoon. I'm- I love you. I'm sorry."
He let the tears fall onto cold, quiet metal.