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baji, this is only a confession if you want it to be. years late and posthumous to boot, but a confession. i’m a bit of a coward, aren’t i? i’m only able to say this now because i know you won’t be able to say no.
dear baji — keisuke — you didn’t mind when i called you keisuke. i didn’t know the first time i saw you, because you looked ridiculous back then. but as i got to know you, i realized you tasted like a warning, like how i imagined the bad boys from the manga panels we’d gape over together would taste — the scent of smoke and those cheap, sickly sweet caramel candies that you liked to use to cover up that acrid taste.
the taste clung to your lips when we kissed that one time. intoxicating and sort of gross all at once. maybe it’s rosy retrospection, but i didn’t mind; i didn’t mind any parts of you. god, you made me soft.
you and i shared so many hours together — i hope you recall muffled midnight laughter over the most stupid manga panels, the detentions spent grousing about classes together, and the cramps we got after sitting hunched over empty takeout boxes, splitting a single carton of peyoung yakisoba.
my delinquent days aren’t lost on me. i thought i knew the taste of victory — sharp, thrilling and dangerous, but now, i doubt i knew anything about winning until i met you.
i’ve been playing a losing game against you for a long time. you were strong and safe and you wore a grin so fierce, so sharp that it didn’t betray any of the heated warmth in your heart. even your voice was victorious, warm and raspy, reminiscent of the thundering growl of your busted goki, threatening to break at any second.
i love you always, but i’ve known forever that love is of little practicality. love doesn’t equate survival. love isn’t victory. and for a long time, my delinquent instincts told me that i just wanted to win. love was a weakness. but soon enough, you became my personal victory. i wanted to win over you... i chased you for so long, unknowingly. i wanted you so bad, but i couldn’t put a finger on why. and now, so late, i’ve realized that i felt something that ran deeper than friendship for you.
and then you were gone.
when i lost you... i tried, i really tried, to cut my losses and forget. forgive, and move on. because that’s what people do to survive, to recover from loss. but this was more than loss, you were part of me. missing you tears me apart every day, baji. it’s so hard without you. going on alone has to be the most lonely thing in the world. i don’t care if kisaki kills me again and again, if it means that there’s even a slim chance of saving you, i’ll die. yeah, i’d die for you. love is so scary, isn’t it? i know that love is a losing game, but i really wish that we’d lose together. baji, i miss you. i love you. you left me empty.
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