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I never thought to define a person as the sun—it seemed too impractical and exaggerated.
Until I met my own sun in the midst of my lost life. It illuminated my path and showed me the way. Yet it was too dazzling; even gazing at it for too long would sting my eyes, drawing out painful tears.
Was it fate? Was it coincidence that we met? Such questions hardly matter. What truly matters is that I finally broke free from my wavering thoughts, filled the missing half of my soul, and discovered my purpose—to follow, serve, and love him for the rest of my life.
I would gladly give my life for him. That is my only thought.
Black wings shelter this kingdom, and I will protect it, with the same steadfastness and tenderness. Yet when those wings fly away, my heart will follow, leaving only my empty shell in this mirage of a city. The once lively, cheerful atmosphere of the town has grown transparent, and I can no longer feel its vibrant colors.
Today, the sunlight is just as glaring, though partly veiled by passing clouds. Rays reflected off the glass window dance across my journal, its ink still wet.
This notebook, holding so many of my secrets, always reminds me of certain things on quiet, lonely nights.
Seven months ago, Mother tried a new way of cooking and nearly burned down the entire kitchen. Kenratt and I, along with some subordinates, struggled to put out the fire. Six months ago, Günter updated his novel, causing yet another wave of popularity—though I only wish he would stop writing such nonsense in it. Five months ago was the day Yuuri returned to Earth. All I remember is that day felt no different from today.
The sun was just as dazzling then, its warm light falling on the traveler’s gentle face. The wind blowing from the valley tousled his hair—was it reluctance, or an attempt to make him stay? Every tree and blade of grass seemed to cry out, “Stay!” But I only walked slowly toward him, forced a smile, and said, “Go, Yuuri. Your family is waiting for you over there.”
After he left, I cannot describe the void that followed. What filled those empty days? Longing, pain, or numbness? Bitter, salty tears streamed from my eyes every lonely night, keeping company with the stars.
Memories turned into scraps of paper drifting into the distance, and the happiness I once felt became hands tightening around my throat.
I never imagined that memories could be both the source of my happiness and my pain. Forgetting might be the cure, but it would be too cruel for me.
Why must we be apart? I keep asking this question in my heart. Why, why, why… The questions pile up like a mountain, and I am powerless against it.
And so, I began to chew on bittersweet memories, trying to escape this silent night.
His dark hair flowing in the air, pupils like gems shining in the night, his beautiful dual-black features—even if he lost one of them, it would not diminish his pull on me.
Looking at him, I felt color return to my dim, uncertain life. My heartbeat told me I loved him even before my mind realized it. For me, simply seeing my reflection in his eyes was enough to bring happiness.
His gaze is clear and pure—anyone could see the nature of his soul with just one glance: a kind, hopeless fool. Yet even as such a hopeless fool, I am willing to follow him. The reason, perhaps, is something even he does not know or has yet to realize.
I even love that slowness of his, though it sometimes fills me with restless anxiety.
Günter often praises his appearance as “beautiful dual-black,” and indeed, he is truly lovely. But I would not praise him that way. I would only commend his foolishly innocent face—and when that face shows unwavering determination, I find him utterly dazzling.
“An ordinary high school student from Japan”? That’s how he always describes himself, but he has nothing to do with the word “ordinary.” An extraordinary sense of justice, powerful magic, a kind heart—each of these is unique, and each is a reason I follow him.
How can I convey my feelings to you?
Yuuri, I love you. This barren heart of mine has long belonged to you! If you doubt these words, you may cut through my flesh, pass my bones, and see the heart that beats only for you.
Believe me, Yuuri. Believe that my love for you is unwavering, that my loyalty to you rivals that of the most devout believer.
The nib whispered across the paper, a soft rustle like the murmuring of night insects. I wrote today's date, then paused.
The clouds outside the window had finally scattered completely, and the afternoon sunlight poured in unreservedly, enveloping me, the desk, and the open diary. The light was too intense, stinging my eyes until my vision turned white, threatening to draw forth tears once more.
But I did not look away.
I forced myself to lift my head and meet that dizzying flood of golden light. For within its very center, within the blur caused by the sting, I seemed to see that figure again—the one with flowing black hair and determined eyes, my sun!
I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with air laced with sun-warmed dust and the scent of paper. Then, on the next line, I wrote with force:
"Today, the sun still shines. And I, I am still waiting. No matter how many more of these bright, silent afternoons I must endure, this waiting will be the very meaning of my existence."
Closing the diary, I gently placed my hand upon its gilt-embossed cover, feeling the warmth it had absorbed from the sun. The pain remained sharp, the loneliness still held its ground, and the mountain of unanswered questions in my heart had not diminished in the slightest.
Yet, at least in this moment, beneath this sky he once illuminated and might yet illuminate again, I could still feel that unique, singular warmth.
That was enough.