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"Ripples are so interesting," she had once told him.
They were at the beach on a family trip. She, of course, had come along. It was almost midnight, the time when everyone else would be asleep, and the little bit of time they'd have alone. They had been holding hands, their bare feet dipped in the cold water, his head on her shoulder, staring at the vast ocean ahead.
He had looked up at her, confusion written plain across his face. "What?"
"Ripples are so interesting," she had repeated. "Ripples across water, to be specific. They parallel so perfectly to ripples across time." She had picked up a seashell that lay in the sand beside her and tossed it into the ocean. "One shell changes the course of the water. One event can change the course of all time."
"Are you always this deep or have I not been paying attention?" he had joked, and she had smiled.
"I'm just speaking my mind. My time with you is really the only time I feel I am okay to do so."
He had lifted his head off of her and moved his free hand up to her cheek, cupping it. "I'm glad you feel like that with me," he had admitted. He had been speaking the truth. He was only really honest with her, and they both knew it. He had smiled right back. They only ever smiled when they were with each other. They had kissed softly under the stars, just for a few moments.
It was not their first time, but it was his favorite. Their first kiss was almost just as good, though.
It was more of a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing. It was years ago, but not too many. Maybe three or four. They had known each other since they were kids, and he had loved her for much of their time together. It had taken forever to realize it, but once he did, everything changed for him. He felt more awkward, he felt more tension between them, and above all, he was... scared. For the first time in his life, he had felt truly scared, because he hadn't known if she had felt the same way about him. He had worked up the courage one day to finally tell her, but every time he got the chance, they were interrupted. It was only around midnight when he had finally been able to be alone with her.
They were in his bedroom, just one small room in the pretty big home he had been raised in. He was sitting in an armchair and she was leaned up against his door, her arms crossed. She had been talking about something she loved. He didn't remember what it was anymore. He hadn't even really been paying all that much attention; he had just been watching her. Her eyes sparkling ever so slightly when she mentioned something that she really loved, her hands clutching her arms tighter when she got a little bit insecure about talking so much, her awkward glance anywhere but his eyes when she noticed he was looking at her... he loved everything about her so much.
It was in that moment he had found himself standing up. He hadn't even realized it until he was grabbing her by her shirt collar, pulling her down to his level and pressing his lips against hers. As suddenly as it happened, he had drawn back. He had frozen and then sputtered for a moment, trying to come up with some sort of explanation, but she had put her arms around his waist and pulled him right back in.
They never needed a confession. Ever since that moment, they always knew. They never had to ask to hold hands, or to hug, or to kiss. They just drew closer to each other, and the look in each other's eyes was enough. She had always shared a room with him, in separate beds, but it got to a point where he could barely stand to be apart from her.
He had gotten up one night, around midnight, and had silently walked over to her bed. She had still been awake, reading a book as she did quite often. She had looked up, and he had looked at her, and he had lifted the covers, a silent question.
She had looked confused, maybe a little concerned, but had nodded. And then he crawled into her bed, and he wrapped his arms around her. She had done the same, and then given him a light kiss on his forehead. He had smiled and closed his eyes. He had allowed himself to lay his head just above her heart so he could hear it beating. It had been the best sleep he'd had in a very long time.
But even through all of this... She still had to do the job she was raised to do.
He hated it. When he was a child, it was okay. He didn't fully understand. But as he grew up, the fact that she would, at any point, die to save him had always made things more and more difficult. She never saw herself as a person, as a real human being with true feelings. She saw herself as a tool. He liked to believe that he made her feel human, at least a little bit. He had never wanted a tool to begin with, had never needed one. It had always made him feel cowardly, as if he couldn't do anything by himself. Even if that was true.
It hurt him deeply to hear her talk about herself as if she didn't matter. He would yell at her, command her to stop, and she would apologize. She probably thought he had been angry at her, but that wasn't true. He could never be angry at her, no matter what happened.
He yelled often, though. He yelled when he was angry, at anyone else. He yelled when he was upset, when he was hurt, when he was frustrated, when he was sad, when he was bored. Even with his small voice, he knew he could be very intimidating, sometimes without even trying to be. He could easily make people do what he wanted. He just wished she could, for once, defy him. He wanted her to realize that she had worth, that she had a life worth protecting, too.
He had told her, "Our professional relationship doesn't exist on this island. We're just fellow high school students now." And she had obeyed... Up until the very end. He could still remember the look on her face. He could still remember their conversation, word for word.
She had made him a promise. "I will keep my young master alive and return him safely home. ...I intend to fulfill my duty as your tool." He wasn't so sure if that was going to hold up anymore. If anything, he would probably be the next target.
It was midnight now. The others were surely asleep. Fuyuhiko had finally healed enough from the events of the trial to be allowed to roam the island again. Despite everything, the fresh air felt... good. He knew exactly where he wanted to go as soon as he was allowed out.
He left the hospital and went straight for the beach. It wasn't the same, but it would have to do. It was weird, only having vision in one eye, but it didn't take him very long to get used to it. A few stumbles made him uncertain, but by the time he reached the sand, he was going pretty strong.
As he walked to the shore, he tried to imagine Peko by his side. It wasn't difficult; he knew her better than he knew himself. He could see the red eyes that he would always get lost in. He could see the long silver braids cascading down her shoulders. He could see her give him the smallest of smiles, the biggest indication that she was enjoying his company. He could feel her hand in his once more, their fingers intertwined. He could feel that warm feeling in his stomach that never went away when she was around. He turned his head to look back at the beach. He almost forgot that she wasn't really there.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she had asked that night, her hand holding his arm as she persistently dragged him to the water.
"Slow down!" he had laughed, and she had giggled in response. He looked out at the water. "Yes, it really is."
"It really is," he repeated now. Smiling, he turned back to...
... His smile faded. He felt tears forming in his eyes faster than he could ever try to will them away. He wiped away the ones that he could and knelt down, removing his shoes and socks. He then rolled his pants legs up a bit and stepped into the water. He waded in just a few inches, about the same distance they had gone that night, and he sat down on the sand. He was never really one for crying, and even though he could contain it sometimes, this time the tears wouldn't stop. He was usually quiet, too, on the rare occasion that he did cry, but in the midnight silence of the island he felt so loud. Forgetting the water, he drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. He hung his head down and let it all out. Without Peko, his world was dark. Empty. Dull. It was cold. Without Peko, his world came crashing down. What reason did he even have to go on living? He dug his nails into his legs, and that was what snapped him out of it. It was so cold. Fuyuhiko shivered. If she had been there with him, she would have wrapped her arms around him, and everything would have been okay. He slowly raised his head and gazed up at the moon and the stars. This was the first time he had looked at them without Peko by his side.
He had never missed the warmth more in his entire life.