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Akaashi Keiji,
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for not telling you the truth. The truth is (pun probably unintended) , I couldn't bring myself to tell you. How could I tell you when I still couldn't accept it myself? You probably want an explanation, and you deserve it anyways.
I found it during training camp. Why I was bleeding so much, those random nosebleeds that just occurred out of nowhere, why I gave up volleyball. This is the real reason why I had quit volleyball, not because of that half assed: ‘I lost my passion’ bullshit. I still love volleyball with my dying heart. When they discovered it, they said i could have a few more years to live and it was possible that with chemo, I could actually make it. As you can tell, that did not happen. That's why I chose to venture to the city, living near Tokyo Medical University Hospital. It was that university that offered the supposed best treatment in all of Tokyo. Well you can see how that turned out.
When you asked me why I was suddenly so pale when you came to visit, I was tempted to tell you. But I held my tongue, because the excitement on your face was too hard for me to tell you the truth. The way your eyes lit up whenever you spoke, which was a rare occurrence during high school, and the hint of excitement and pure happiness in your voice temporarily made me forget about my health problems.
I remember that day when you came up to the city, dressed in a black puffy coat with a beanie on top of your head. You looked cool Akaashi Keiji, you really did. That day was the last time I had ever felt true happiness, and I am glad it was with you. I’m glad that we decided to go to the funfair and waste our money trying to play fairground games that simply cheat your money, and eating ourselves sick with the streetfood. I’m glad that we chose the Ferris Wheel instead of the bloody rollercoaster ride you wanted (that honestly still makes me want to throw up to this day).
In the Ferris Wheel, I never really told you how beautiful you looked. Your pale face with tiny puffs of smoke from your lips, illuminated by the prismacolor lights of the Ferris Wheel. It was as if you were a painting. The way your lips parted when you stared out of the window, just made me lose it. I still never told you how your lips taste.
Do you want to know what they taste like? They taste like the first blossoming flowers of spring, the warm beckoning sun of summer and the first ice cream on a hot summer’s day, the crisp autumn breeze and the warm drinks that follow after and the melting snowflakes of winter. You were a masterpiece Keiji. But forget the poetry, I have always been full of nonsense anyways. In all honesty, your lips tasted like mint. You know your favourite mint drink that I hate? That’s what it tasted like, and I have grown to love that drink.
When I laid in bed that night, I had the strangest thought ever. I had to get home. You were home, Keiji.
I’m sorry I never told you.
I’m sorry I made you worry.
I'm sorry for being dead. I'm sorry for not telling you about it. But most importantly, I'm sorry for breaking your heart.
You were the first person I have ever loved - and the only person I’ll ever love.
I hope this half assed letter answers your question. Or maybe not. Who knows, maybe if I wish hard enough, I may turn into a ghost, then you'll never really get rid of me Keiji.
Love,
Koutarou