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The hallways are quiet, the sound of Izumi’s shoes clicking on the tiled floor the only disturbance. He stops outside a familiar door, pushing it open and stepping inside. The little light from outside fades away as the door closes behind him, and he has to take a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness.
“Hey,” he calls to the familiar lump lying under the kotatsu, “Kuma-kun, you awake?”
There’s no response, but Ritsu shuffles around to face Izumi anyway. The model moves to turn on the light, because although he can see in the dark, it’s still pretty annoying.
“Don’t,” Ritsu calls, and Izumi would usually ignore it, but today there’s something quiet, fragile in Ritsu’s voice. When he looks closely, his friend’s eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed, and there’s a tiredness in his expression different to the kind he usually wears.
(He’s been crying, that much is obvious. Izumi doesn’t need to be good with people to tell.)
Sighing, Izumi sits on the floor beside Ritsu, a thousand questions running through his mind. He settles for what is likely the worst one. “You okay?”
That gets a laugh out of Ritsu, but it might just be wishful thinking because it also sounded like a sob, and his next words come out a choked whisper.
“Yes, Secchan, I’m just great.” Ritsu scrunches a handful of Izumi’s pants, and he lets him. Sarcasm isn’t really common for Ritsu, but it seems like he’s barely holding himself together by a single, frayed thread. “What does it look like?”
Izumi shrugs, racking his brain to figure out how he’s supposed to comfort Ritsu. He’s pretty touchy, so maybe that would help, although Izumi isn’t very familiar with hugging anyone except Leo.
(Speaking of which, he hasn’t seen his boyfriend in a week or so. He’s been worried: Leo seemed tired the last time they met, and he told Izumi he was staying at home for a little while. He’s been busy this week with work; he’ll message the composer after he deals with... whatever this is.)
Awkwardly, Izumi crawls over to where Ritsu is, shuffling under the kotatsu with him and flinching just a little as Ritsu immediately hugs him tightly, burying his face in the crook of Izumi’s neck. “It’s alright,” he whispers, and he’s aware he probably doesn’t sound very comforting, but he doesn’t know what else to do.
Ritsu hugs Izumi tighter, and his breaths suddenly seem a lot faster, a lot shorter.
Wrong move, wrong move—
“‘S‘not,” Ritsu gasps, clinging tightly to Izumi’s shirt, a single, heart-wrenching sob jerking his body, “not alright—”
“Kuma-kun,” Izumi interrupts, and Ritsu’s trembling in his arms, shaky breaths fanning over Izumi’s neck. He’s never seen Ritsu this upset; honestly, he didn’t know it was possible. It’s scary. “Kuma-kun, what happened?”
Ritsu just shakes his head, clinging tight to the back of Izumi’s shirt as another loud sob wrenches itself from his throat, and it’s clear that something is very wrong. Panic courses through Izumi, and he pushes Ritsu away from him, holding him by the shoulders. “Look, Kuma-kun, just tell me what’s wrong and we can fix it, okay?”
(The thread snaps.)
“You can’t fucking fix it, Secchan,” Ritsu shouts, dragging himself away from Izumi. He continues, but it’s nothing but a whisper, broken and sad. “You can’t just bring someone back.”
White-hot fear stabs at Izumi’s chest, but when he looks up at Ritsu, he has his hand over his mouth and he looks like he’s said something he shouldn’t have. Suddenly it’s hard to breathe, the air hot and sticky. “Bring someone back,” Izumi repeats, and the words feel disgusting on his tongue.
A week of radio silence, Ritsu crying in the practice room—
You can’t just bring someone back.
Izumi’s blood freezes in his veins, and he slowly raises his eyes to meet Ritsu’s, and when all he sees is quiet resignation he feels like he might throw up.
His phone is in his pocket, and he reaches for it with shaking hands.
3 missed calls from leokun
9 new messages from leokun
He can’t breathe. He hasn’t even clicked anything, but the room is spinning and he feels sick and his chest hurts.
leokun [9:57]
sena i cnat hear anything
its worse than usual
im scared
leokun [10:43]
sena
sena ims o sorry
i fucked up
im sorry
im sorry i love you so much
im so so srory
Everything hurts.
“Kuma-kun,” Izumi mumbles, “pinch me.”
It’s a dream it’s a dream it has to be a dream—
Ritsu doesn’t pinch him. He merely takes Izumi’s phone, his touch light and gentle, and hugs him tightly, warmly, and for a tiny second everything is okay.
“I’m sorry,” Ritsu says through tears, fingers messing with the model’s hair, “I wish it was a dream, too.”
Izumi’s whole world comes crashing down around him.
«•»
The world exists in greyscale, and everything feels like a dream. He spends his days reading through his messages with Leo, from the very beginning up until the very end.
What would have happened if he’d been there? What if his phone wasn’t on silent? What if he saw the first message and came over?
(The answer is obvious, but he can’t bring himself to admit it.)
i love you
ill never stop loving you
im so sorry i wasnt there
Messages like these are sent occasionally, and every time he reminds himself that Leo will never see them he feels himself rip in two.
It’s only been a day and he misses him so much it physically hurts. He’ll never wake up to that familiar voice again, he’ll never hear his name pronounced in that way that only Leo did, he’ll never walk into practice to scribbles on the walls, he’ll never have an annoying orange gremlin jump into his arms.
He’ll never see Leo again.
He buries his face in his pillow and cries until he passes out.
«•»
On the third day, Arashi visits. She walks into his room with a bag of sweets, and she looks like she hasn’t slept in days.
“Y’know, I thought it’d never happen again,” she whispers as she sits down on the bed beside Izumi. She hesitantly wraps an arm around his shoulders, and that’s all it takes for the dam to break. Arashi’s never seen him cry, but she holds him all the same as he falls apart in her arms, because she’s the only one who really knows how much it hurts.
“I loved him,” Izumi chokes out eventually, and it hurts to refer to Leo in the past tense, because each other person in the world is merely a candle, but Leo is — was — the sun that would never burn out.
(But he did anyway.)
“I know,” Arashi says, tracing circles on his back. She sounds like she’s holding back tears of her own, and she squeezes Izumi just a little tighter.
“He wasn’t supposed to go,” Izumi whispers into Arashi’s chest, “it’s so unfair.”
“I know.”
(The universe always takes the best people first, after all.)
«•»
On the fifth day, Chiaki and Kaoru visit, and for a moment things fall back into a semblance of normal. Ritsu, Arashi and Tsukasa all message him regularly, too, although Tsukasa less so than the others.
“Sena!”
The way Chiaki runs towards him and throws himself onto Izumi’s bed with a yell is stingingly familiar, and he buries the feeling in the back of his mind. He’s exhausted, and he doesn’t think either of them have ever seen him like this, but he can’t bring himself to care this time.
Kaoru laughs, sitting down on Izumi’s other side. “Personal space, Moricchi,” he reminds Chiaki, and the other boy nods sheepishly before sitting up.
There’s something familiar about this, and as they laugh together, he can nearly bury the pain deep enough that he can’t feel it. Chiaki talks about his tokusatsu shows while Izumi and Kaoru listen and nod, and then Kaoru talks about how he went to the beach the other day.
(It’s nice, but Izumi would have to be blind to not notice how they’re steering the conversation away from Kanata and Rei.)
Kaoru pauses his monologue about the ocean. “What about you, Senacchi?”
Izumi blinks.
“He means, do you have anything to talk about,” Chiaki clarifies, “we’ve been talking a lot, so?”
Okay, he wants to say, but every old story he can think of has something to do with Leo. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s not ready.
(He’s not sure he ever will be.)
Swallowing thickly, he squeezes his eyes shut with a shake of his head.
Kaoru’s phone buzzes on the bed, and Izumi glances over at the notification.
rei-kun 💕 [14:26]
Kaoru-kun, I got us a reservation for tonight at that restaurant you’ve been wanting to go to.
Izumi’s throat tightens, and Kaoru looks at him with an apologetic expression. Why should he apologise for having someone to love?
It does hurt, just a little, though, because his two friends both have partners, and Izumi’s own person — his soulmate, his world, his other half — is gone, somewhere up in the stars where he’ll never see him again.
Hey, Leo-kun. You finally got to go up to space, huh. Tell me, is it worth it? Is it worth all of this pain you left us with?
«•»
It’s something like two in the morning, and Izumi’s looking through Leo’s messages again. He’s wearing Leo’s old hoodie, the black one, and it smells like him. If he closes his eyes and pretends, it’s really Leo here holding him instead of just an item of clothing.
“I love you,” Izumi whispers to nobody, “I’m sorry.”
kumakun [2:36]
secchan are you still up
please go to sleep
Maybe that’s a good idea. He hates sleeping, though, because in his dreams, Leo is always there. Dreams are merely fragments of a future he’ll never be able to have with the person he loves most in the whole world.
okay
Sighing, Izumi shuts his phone off and closes his eyes. Sleep comes easily enough — he hasn’t really been getting enough lately — and he drifts off to the scent of coffee and paper and Leo’s warmth all around him.
«•»
It’s a dream, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. He’s sitting in an empty field, nothing but grass and flowers for miles and miles. Leo is lying on his lap, a carefree grin on his face as he weaves flower stems together.
“Hey, Sena,” Leo calls, staring up at Izumi. He fights the urge to kiss Leo’s forehead.
“Mm?”
“I’m sorry.”
Izumi’s blood runs cold, and a sob bubbles up in his throat, and then Leo is holding him, like he always did, and Izumi can’t stop the tears anymore.
An eternity passes, and then Leo stands up and Izumi’s world starts to shatter. He squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to see the love of his life leave again.
“Sena, c’mon!”
Huh?
When he opens his eyes, Leo is still there, holding out a hand. Hesitantly, Izumi takes it, and Leo laughs that same bright laugh as always, pulling Izumi up off the ground and then into a run.
Leo kisses him then, in the field of flowers that stretches on for eternity, and there’s nowhere he’d rather be.
«•»
Sena,
I’m not very good at words, but nothing I write is good enough to give you instead of a letter. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say here, but please always remember that I love you more than anything, and that’ll never change, no matter where I am or whether I’m even here at all.
I know you’ll be upset, but it’s not going to be forever, is it? You were okay without me back in our second year, you’ll be okay without me again. I know you will. You’re strong, probably the strongest person I know. You’re the one who kept me going, the main melody, I guess, but even if a song can continue without anything but the melody, it’s going to get boring, you know? A song like that isn’t really useful to anyone, anyway.
I want you to know that I love you, and I always have, and I’m sorry. I know I said I’m not good at words, but this ended up pretty sentimental, didn’t it?
I love you.
Yours forever, until the end of the universe,
Leo.