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The screen slides, and Yuuji sees forty years of memories fight for supremacy. Nights making love. Days waking to a lazy sun. Arguments about dangers and futures. Apologies and desperate wishes. Each one is clouded in the bittersweet taste of nostalgia. He’d take that flavor over the one that hits his tongue as reality sinks in.
Fushiguro Megumi, head of the Zen’in Clan, lays on his deathbed. “Leave us,” the great man mutters to the attendants in the room. Whispers follow the people as they leave the ageless beast with their master. Yuuji waits, unaffected by their pettiness, until it’s just the two of them. The door shuts and he is at Megumi’s side, gently cupping his hand. “It’s time, Yuuji.”
Yuuji’s lips purse and tremble as he pushes back a sob. His hands need to be busy, so he reaches for the wash basin. Megumi’s weak body is hard to move, but Yuuji navigates it with all the gentleness of his love. His hands know each muscle, each bend. His hands know how to undress him, mostly in times of passion, but also times of pain. His hands will do it again, all for the love of him.
Megumi’s skin is pallid, silvery as the moon. Regardless, much of his beauty remains as he was never one to let his body fade into inactivity. Even to this day—his dying day— Megumi has fought any curse that’s come his way. Another wave of adoration hits Yuuji, and he finds himself leaning down, placing a kiss on the shoulder that he’s leaned on throughout the years.
Megumi’s chuckle in reply to the tenderness sounds like stirring autumn leaves.
Yuuji wrings out the sponge and begins with Megumi’s arm, washing away the kiss he’d left.
“You don’t have to,” Megumi murmurs.
“I want to,” Yuuji replies, now kissing the palm he has lifted. “I want to see all of you again.”
“An old man.”
“And still the one I love.”
He sighs, but it’s barely a breeze as his chest struggles to rise. Yuuji urges himself a little faster, moving to his other arm.
“I have done more than I thought I would ever do,” Megumi whispers, eyes closed. “There is very little I regret besides… besides not being able to take care of you.”
Yuuji scoffs at the accusation. “Megumi, don’t–”
“Let an old man have his say,” Megumi says with a crooked grin.
Moving to his chest, Yuuji is careful to watch the rise and fall, feel the measly beat of the once strong heart under the thin skin he touches. It’s like cleaning a butterfly wing, and Yuuji can’t help but feel the tears come again.
Cloudy green eyes open, trying to focus on Yuuji’s face. “I wish I could have found a way… a way our whole lives could have been together. I never wanted to see you die, and I got my wish, but at a cost.”
Tears now destroy Yuuji’s sight, turning the man into a blur of his bedding that he pulls aside. “It’s a nice dream.” He runs the sponge along one leg before lifting it at the knee to get the other side.
Something stuck between a groan and a hum leaves Megumi’s lips.
“Are you in pain?” Yuuji freezes, his eyes instantly shooting to Megumi's chest again. The thin rise and fall does very little to reassure him. “I-I could get the doctor.”
“No, Yuuji,” he dismisses with a sigh.
He continues to the next leg, slower this time and thankfully receiving no indiscernible sound. “Megumi, what else can I do?” He wishes there were a million answers to that question, but he knows the reality.
“Come closer so I don’t have to waste my breath.” Yuuji follows the order and lies next to his lover for the last time. “You can believe it or not, but…” He reaches over, one shaking hand smearing the tears on Yuuji’s cheek. “We’re owed that dream. For all we went through. I’m going to… Yuuji, we will see each other again. I swear. And I will try again. I will try to love you better.”
“You did nothing wrong,” Yuuji laments, his low whisper nothing better than a moan.
Tears seep from the corner of Megumi’s eyes. “Take my breath away one more time,” he croaks, his calloused hand cradling Yuuji’s cheek.
Yuuji sniffles before desperately wiping at his face. The tears won’t end, not now, not for days, weeks, years, but he’s trying to at least get them out of the way for this. He wriggles closer while he cups Megumi’s wrinkled cheeks, placing his lips against the ones he’s kissed a million times. The latch doesn’t stick, and it’s over.
“Megumi?” His eyes don’t open, and as Yuuji slips his hands down Megumi's throat, there’s no rhythm to be found. A slow, keening groan comes from Yuuji’s lips. “Megumi, please.” He searches that beloved face, willing the crow’s feet to crinkle with a smile on his lover’s lips. Instead, everything is still. Yuuji leans in again, placing his forehead against the shell of what he once loved. “Keep your promise,” he begs. Tears are shattering his voice, making syllables jump in unreliable gaps. “Y-you promise, we’ll grow old together. You promise, you’ll give all that life to me, and I’ll give you mine. You promise you’ll find me, and you’ll love me.”
Yuuji holds on. Time passes along with his tears. There seems to be no end to either since Megumi is gone. After imperceptible minutes, the door slides open and attendants, doctors—people intrude. Words from their mouths mean nothing to Yuuji, barely registering.
He sits up, letting the slew drip off his cheeks and paint the body below him. The attendants start to repeat his motions but without the beloved tenderness. They redress him in his death robes. One of the girls gathers his old clothes and Yuuji grabs her arm. “Give me the haori.”
“But–” She starts to argue but bites into her lip as soon as they meet eyes. She takes the cool grey coat and hands it to him. “If anyone complains–”
“Let them,” Yuuji growls. He clutches the Zen’in marked garb to his chest, digging his face into it. The lingering scent of him is there—faint sandalwood, a hint of the cigarettes he always claimed he quit. Yuuji watches the room change around him, trying to convince himself of the shell. Of the end in front of him. That part of his world is now empty. Still, he can’t will himself to move.
Light starts to dim. He can tell he’s unwanted, but he can’t tear himself from Megumi’s side. No matter the tactic, Yuuji remains a sentinel until the moon is high and everyone has left them to themselves. “Megumi, I have to leave.” He runs shaking fingers over the scar on Megumi’s cheek. “Remember your promise.” Yuuji stands, slipping the haori over his shoulders. He tries to imagine the warmth of Megumi’s arms. “Because I’ll never love anyone else.”