Chapter Text
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It all came to Saki in a dream.
That day, her eyes were clouded in the foggy breeze and the droplets of rain that fell upon her gaze. Nothing could be seen clearly from the place where she stood. Lost in a misty haze of monochrome objects that vaguely appeared on the edge of her vision.
As if the girl really was leading herself astray, within this seemingly endless void of pure gray and white.
Even if she could hear of the commotion of distorted figures chattering and laughing in the distance, and how badly she wanted to join in to at least ask whatever has happened to this once colorful world, she can't.
Her feet won't even move.
Like they're frozen between the wind that brought this world a colorless rain, or maybe between the seconds that continued to pass in this fabricated world.
Suddenly, they... moved. Not by her own will. As if whoever ruled this 'dreamland' made her walk on one set path. To go 'home'. To go inside this awfully blinding light in her direction, so she can wake up.
As she took one step after another, a figure soon appeared beside her. The only one whose colors remained on what she once thought was a colorless form. The only one whose face could be recognized so easily in her pile of old memories, just by catching a glimpse of the hospital robe she wore, her grayish strands of hair, her viridescent eyes, and how weak and pale her hand grasped the iron pole that held her infusion bag.
The only one whose entire existence here feels...
Unfrabricated.
The only one in that world who harbored a voice as sweet as honey, breaths as warm as a dear one's embrace, and a hand as soft as a rock pigeon's feather.
How did Saki think of all that, exactly?
Because that person she saw—which was no other than an old friend—had her free hand reaching out to her departing figure.
And as the young girl's hands grasped hers, she smiled.
"Saki," she murmured, a content expression on her face, even if she knew that the blonde girl, whose hand was in her hold, was about to leave soon.
Even if the older one of the two tried to shake off her hand, brushing it off so to return to 'her own world', where she could open her eyes again and get out of this odd dream, the gray-haired young lady continued to smile.
"Why, it's a shame that you have to leave this place soon, but..."
That childish expression of hers, which was the same one Saki has seen out of that girl's face, many years ago, came back.
That confused, yet accepting chuckle that blossomed in the breeze reached her ear in an instant.
As if her face, her voice, her laugh, and her being was but a flower in full bloom, a colorful one among the garden of wilting blossoms.
"I promise that I'll come to meet you elsewhere, so please, wait for me, alright?"
07 . 07. 20XX .
Friday, 00.45 AM.
The blonde lady laid still on her hospital bed, eyes hastily opening and closing as she tightly held the fabric of her robe. That certain shade of dusty pink greeted her gaze once again, even as she buried them in her sleeve as she weakly wiped away her tears of early rise.
It's not even that bright outside, yet she already woke herself up from that serene dream. It wasn't even a nightmare, but... why did she wake herself up at this hour?
Ah, right. She's afraid.
She's afraid that she wouldn't be able to open her eyes someday. Not being able to bid a proper goodbye to those whom she loved dearly. Her brother, her parents, her bandmates, her friends...
How would they feel?
How would Saki herself feel?
She'd curse herself for being such a terrible being, someone cruel enough to not even give everyone a proper farewell before her death.
Maybe that'll suffice for a midnight thought.
Shaking her head, she scratched the nape of her neck, a hand reaching for the half-emptied mug beside her that laid itself upon what she saw as a nightstand. It is, in fact, nothing more than a table that happened to be placed beside her bed.
She then looked into the once warm liquid.
Half of a glass of tea.
Inside it was a reflection of her face.
Wet with tears, soon letting them drop onto the pooling fluid.
That reflection soon disappeared, anyway. Only within a drop of her own tears.
Regardless, Saki gulped down the scalding liquid, the last of its warmth melting away all her remaining sadness in her heart. As if they wafted away from her, their presence still ghostily sticking onto her heart, albeir fleetingly. Nothing more than a pathetic feeling of what felt like hopelessness and regret.
A regretful feeling bloomed inside her. A regret for living to this point in her life, to go through fear every time she was about to close her eyes so to slip into the land of dreams. That fearful regret of doing the simplest of things, even sleeping so soundly in the dead of night.
The fear of her eyes never being able to open themselves.
The fear of her heart never being able to beat in silence.
Lastly, the fear of letting go from her current memories and feelings.
As those terrible thoughts trickled into her mind, a picture frame sat upon the table next to the girl's weeping form. A picture of two young children, one who seemed to have silvery hair while the other next to her harbored such fine features for a child their age. Blonde, rosy hair and bright, brilliant eyes.
And of course, the two of them smiled so brightly inside the white frame.
Behind it, however, was a frame in black. Inside it was what looked like the gray-haired child in the last picture.
One that resembled the girl she saw in her dreams.
Inside the frame was someone who looked the same age as what one would consider a middle school student, her frail body hugged by the fabric of her greenish hospital robe. A weak smile blossomed on her face, the same one as the expression she saw within that oddly vivid dream.
"Thank you, Saki, for all the good times we've shared."
Every single time she was to cradle and brush off the dust that lingered on the black frame, like how she did just now after she finished her weeping, that voice would still come back to her. As if she was still right beside the place where she stood (or in this case, sat). As if she never left her, even after 'that day'.
Yes, the day where this 'Hinomori Shiho' passed away, slumbering atop her hospital bed, even as she comforted the crying Saki and her own fearful heart.
She would never, ever forget that.
Perhaps, beneath that gentle smile of hers, Shiho harbored the very same fear, just like the one manifesting itself in Saki's heart?
Maybe so.
All of this feels like an endless loop between two. This awful feeling that pierced Saki's heart and form with each and every thread and needle, as if painfully sewing and breaking her being into nothing more than a weak person whose heart couldn't help but to hope, was once harbored by Shiho, too. This fate, this illness, and this gaze blurred with tears was no more than a repeating of Shiho's terrible fate.
Sighing, she placed the ceramic mug back on the table, eyes shifting to meet the endless starry sky. Longingly staring at them was she, as if the small, yet evident feeling of loneliness in her heart continued to consume her as she didn't stop wishing for someone to accompany her.
Whoever it is.
Whether she had little or no time left to live this miserable life, she wanted someone to hold her hand until the end.
If only the shooting star that distorted the sky in the distance could make that selfish wish of hers come true. If only a certain dear one whom had left her for years on end to become one with those stars, could return to her, just for a moment.
That night, the girl grimaced in a waltz of emotions.
Inside her heart was nothing more than a simple sentence, a selfish desire to bring someone back to her.
"Shiho-chan," she whispered beneath the dimming light of the moon. "Please, let me–"
Knock, knock.
A soft, faint, yet audible noise greeted her ears. Along with that came a gentle call, a sweet voice drooping in so to stain her senses in what felt like a heartwarming trance. Even if the air around her suddenly froze and turned itself into nothing more than a form of cold breeze, the warmth that emitted from the guest was way, way more overwhelming than the cold itself. Despite the fact that she missed the opportunity to make a wish by that shooting star just now, the knocking of her door was enough to cheer her up.
Even if it might only be her doctor coming in to check up on her tonight, she's still relieved.
A creaking of a door soon pierced her ears.
Beneath the darkness of her room, she could see a dark figure of a young girl dressed in light green. Yes, a hospital robe was, indeed, the piece of clothing that adorned her seemingly frail body. Messy, scruffy hair that hasn't been combed properly for so long was what she saw on the top of the figure's head.
As the figure approached her, her steps remained unheard. Their entire presence felt so ghostly, as if they wasn't even there at all. Let alone their presence, the sounds they made, from the knocking to the creaking of the door, it all sounded so faint. Quiet. Silent.
All of that made Saki feel even more curious of whoever this unknowingly guest is.
With each and every footstep, the darkened form of what still seemed human finally came to light. The rays of the moon that pierced their viridescent eyes, shining onto their greenish hospital robe and their silvery hair.
The same girl from that dream.
Once she opened her mouth, however, her voice really did came out. Sounding softer than the one in Saki's dreams, the girl uttered out a few words to start with before leaving the blonde in a mixed state of confusion and utter denial.
"The moon... It looks so beautiful tonight," she chortled out, her raspy voice calling out to the other. "Isn't that right, Saki?"
That familiar voice.
It can't be.
Is it—?