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"You need to find someone else, Ei."
The words, though spoken like a shy whisper through the air between them, engrave and echo within the walls of her mind. Miko looks at her — she must be searching for her eyes. But they stay down staring at the oscillating reflection of her face on the stirred tea. How can she do such a thing when even in the corners of her vision, she can still catch the blinding glimpse of a golden band wrapped on the finger of her once beloved? So she shakes her head, forcing herself to smile despite the tears threatening to form and fall.
"You know I can't do that, Miko."
Ei made a promise to her. An oath, really. And she can't go breaking it now, after all this time.
"Well, you're gonna have to," She chuckles breathlessly, and Ei doesn't miss the small crack in her voice. Miko sends her a smile, the very kind that had always made her heart constrict with fondness. Now, it only breaks her poorly mended heart once again. "You need to. I mean, there's no point in staying where you are."
There's no point staying here with me. Frustration gets Ei to clench her jaw. Anger, sadness, hopelessness — it feels like she's drinking it all like some fucked up cocktail curated by the worst bartender. Still, she can't say Miko isn't absolutely right. Past is past, as they say, and she finds herself stuck in its endless loop. She continuously tortures herself, with the what if's and the what could have been's. And in the name of honesty, Ei just can't see a way out of this hellish wormhole she created and imprisoned herself in.
"I would if I could," She settles for that as an answer. Dread plagues her guts, causing her to lose her appetite entirely. She reckons that if she takes the smallest of sips from her lukewarm tea now, her stomach would only reject it. Nausea washes over her in unpredictable waves.
But Miko drinks her share, and Ei wishes she can do the same as a question renders her tongue tied. “Why couldn’t you?”
Exhaling through her nose, Ei takes her time to think, even as she already has an answer resting on the tip of her tongue, just waiting to be said out loud. It’s not like she’s asked herself the same question a thousand times before, keeping herself up in the middle of the night until the sun begins to peek through the skyline of the city. It’s not like she’s thought about it each and every single day that goes by, always searching but never finding another answer — an alternative to replace the only conclusion she has. No, that’s not like her at all. However, if the walls of her room have the ability to talk and tell stories, they would never lie about her regrets, both the loud and the silent ones.
“Because you’re the only one I have loved and would ever love like this,” Ei finally gets the courage to meet her eyes, earnest and straightforward. There’s no point in lying, she knows she’ll only ask her over and over again until she gets the truth out of her.
She sees her stiffen, frozen from what she has said. Miko has her jaw slack, mouth slightly opened and lips parted as she tries to say something back. Ei can practically hear the unspoken words, and she prepares herself for another set of questions to be thrown. But, instead of getting what she has expected, Miko only sighs at her. The lilac eyes that she fell in love with — and that she still adores — are filled with sympathy and what seemed to be pain. Whether she’s seeing the truth or just another figment of her feeble mind, Ei doesn’t know and she doesn’t bring herself to try and give it the least bit of care. All she intends to care about is that she gets to tell her everything. Of how she’s felt throughout the years they were apart, of why she did what she’s done. Of how she still feels about her, and about them. It doesn’t take much of a person to realize the simple “it’s now or never” situation.
“I think you’re being unfair to yourself, Ei.”
Unfair? Ei scoffs at that. If what she’s doing is unfair now, then she sure as hell deserves every bit of consequence that comes along with it. She already knows the sensation of solitude, knowing each and every single corner and crevice in the self-inflicted punishment. She’s already familiar with it, used to it really. What’s the worst that could happen once she fully immerses herself in it after all of this grand finale is done?
She shakes her head, a dejected chuckle leaving her mouth. “No, I think it’s only fair actually.”
“It’s really not,” Ah, there’s her stubbornness. “It won’t do you any good if you stay like this. There’s others for you—”
“And as I said, you’re the only one I have loved and would ever love,” Ei tells her, making sure her voice is firm even with her unsteady soul. How dare she suggest something so ridiculous? Even if she considers the tiniest of chances, no matter how much she tries to get over and move one from who they were and what they once was, Ei knows it would just be beyond impossible. “I can never replace you. Not when no one else can ever love me the same way that you did.”
If there’s a tear or two running down her face, she doesn’t notice it. Her jaw is trembling, her hands cold and closing into fists upon her lap. Her chest feels as tight as the lump stuck and forming in her throat, nearly suffocating her with the overwhelming flow of emotions she didn’t have to face directly before. She can only watch as Miko has her own tears escape from the bays of her eyes, barely tasting freedom as she hurriedly wipes them off with a halfhearted laugh.
“Now, who’s the stubborn one?” She hears her poor attempt at a joke, and when Ei thinks she would just laugh it off, a sob follows as Miko hides behind her hands, the next words coming out muffled and almost incoherent. “Why’d you have to make this even harder than it already is?”
Ei purses her lips as she tears her line of sight from her, looking anywhere and everywhere but Miko. She can’t look at her like this, not when she’s crying over her. Again, just like before, and just like she promised never to do. Yet here she is, telling the painful truth for both of their peace of minds. Ei has made her decision, and Miko is much much happier now. For her, that’s all that matters. “I made a promise to you, Miko. Do you still remember it?”
A weak chuckle. “You made a lot of promises to me, dumbass.”
Ei manages to scoff. She remembers them herself — all that she kept and all that she broke. But there’s a specific one she wanted to remind her out loud, and she knows that Miko knows exactly what it was. “You know what I’m talking about.”
She sighs, taking a deep breath as she removes her hands from her face. Their roles reverse — it’s Ei who gazes at her, and it’s Miko who has her eyes looking out the window. She shakes her head. “You’ve got to let that go, Ei.”
“But have you?” Ei knows it’s a dumb question. But then again, she’s the biggest, stupidest idiot for her. Her hand suddenly itches to be on Miko’s, to hold her and tell her that it’s going to be alright, just like the thousand times she did before. She manages to bite down and swallow the urge. She can’t do any of that now. All she can do now is ask, and get not the answers that she wants but she definitely needs. “Have you let go of that, Miko?”
She watches as she stammers, and she waits for her to get a response through. This would be her last question for her, nothing more and nothing less. Whatever her answer may be, Ei would take it, and she would leave this place with a bit more tranquility in her mind and one more wound in her heart that she thinks even time wouldn’t be able to mend. Another tear in the bay of her eye, and she finally gets an answer from Miko.
“Yes,” Despite the tears trailing down her cheek, Ei can sense Miko’s certainty. “I have, and you should, too.”
A knife being driven in her chest — that’s what it feels like. She already knew what it was going to be, with the magatama she once gifted to her nonexistent on her necklace that’s now replaced by a dark feather as its pendant. She shouldn’t have asked in the first place, as she focuses on her new golden ring. Ei smiles, something so bittersweet yet true. She has made a fool out of herself once again, and this would be the very last time she’d ever do it for Miko. “Good. That’s all I wanted to know.”
She takes one final look at Miko, memorizing each and every feature of her as if she doesn’t have any of it already engraved in her head and heart and soul. She looks at her with adoration, with love that she can only ever give to her. She looks at her, and she lets her regrets and apologies be known as she places them in blind hope that Miko would understand and forgive her. She looks at her, and she feels herself be taken back to where they first started and recognizes how young and dumb and naive they were, wishing she could stay in that memory for eternity. She wants to touch her, just for the last time, as a means of sealing their goodbye, and she does. With her palm on Miko’s stained cheek, everything is okay and all of this was just some messed up fever dream. Ei takes her grand time, knowing she wouldn’t get this chance ever again.
One, two, three seconds pass by, and Ei only lets her go by the fifth. She’s scared that if she stays here, let her hand linger for another second longer, she might never be able to leave. So, like skin on hot metal, she withdraws her hand from Miko, a first step to really letting her go. She turns on her heel and walks away from her, ignoring the urge to go back and just hold her. This is it, the final turning point, and Ei has to accept it. There’s nothing left for her here, and she has to leave the past as it is. She can’t change anything now, and leaving is the only thing she can do. This is the best for them both.
But then she hears something that makes her stop in her tracks, as well as the train of her consciousness convincing her.
“I love you, Ei…”
Did she hear it right? Miko can’t have said that. Maybe she’s just thinking it again, like she always does—
“Fuck, I still love you.”
Ei can barely see anything through her tears, but she knows she’s already holding the handle. Just one twist, and she can finally get out. Why did she have to tell her that now, out of all the time they had? It makes her want to stay — she wants to stay and never leave again like she did before. She wants to steal her away, be selfish and fight everyone who’s against them. No, she can’t do that anymore. Maybe then, when she still had all the time in the world to redeem herself, but not anymore. She forces herself to smile at her for the last time.
“You should tell your wife that instead of me, Miko,” At least if she told her that, she knows that Sara would be more than grateful to return the favor. The thought sets a weirdly comforting feeling in her bones. Miko really is in a better set of hands than she could ever be for her, and Ei finds herself grateful to know that. “Oh, and I hope you both live the best of your lives together. You’re a perfect match.”