Chapter Text
(Non-)Letter 05: Pitch Black Pages
I'm lost. I don't have the slightest clue of where I am.
The sun is starting to hide beyond the horizons, and the exhausted salarymen swiftly rush their ways home, leather suitcases stiffly dangling by their sides with their every step. I observe myself: I don't seem like I'm a salaryman. I'm wearing a hoodie and striped pajamas outside by the city river. My hands hovered over my head and felt wavy untrimmed hair.
Simply, I forgot everything that happened before this very moment. Did I hit my head? Is anyone looking for me?
...Who am I?
unspoken but written confessions
Is this mine? I have to say I have the least amount of naming sense. No one should ever write out their confessions for anyone to find and read. I must have been really lonely for me to write out my heaviest thoughts instead of telling a friend.
With a hesitant heart, I turn to the first page.
As if drawn by instinct, I brought the open journal close to my face... and I take a sniff.
The scent of autumn, tears... and strawberries? Odd.
First Chapter: Things I Hate about Kuzuha.
Kuzuha? Who is this person I hate so much I had to write a journal entry about him?
He irresponsibly leaves my messages on unread, and never really finishes the food I prepare for him. I'm not sure about what kind of person I was before, but this Kuzuha sounds like a terrible person to be with.
I described him like an awful person... yet I'm thankful to be able to stay with him? The words I wrote to narrate my experience with this Kuzuha makes me think he's a child. And yet, the conclusion of this first journal entry is that the person I was never really hated Kuzuha.
Kuzuha... seems like a secretive person. I wonder if I was enough to give him the happiness he longed for.
I was really bad with words, huh? Even in my own confession journal, I couldn't be fully honest with my feelings, struggling with contradicting sentiments all throughout the entry.
As I proceed to the second entry, I learn that Kuzuha is a vampire who used to be the majestic Aleksandr Lagusa. I also eventually read about how we're currently colleagues, contract partners... and well, lovers.
While I read my first-person perspective entries from a third-person conscience, I realize whoever I was before: he truly loved this Kuzuha and the many sides to him.
I labeled myself lucky to have been given a chance to meet and be with this meek vampire. The existence of this journal speaks the despicable insecurities I held onto out of fear of losing the sole person I treasured so much.
Halfway the journal, I look up to the sky and notice the hues changing to fiery sunset colors. It's also starting to get chilly... but more importantly, I begin to feel a bothersome swirling inside my chest. Like it's longing for someone, my heart refuses to settle down.
The flow of the glistening river begins to roar along the loud traffic in the road. Shops begin to turn on their night lights and the street lamps illuminate the dimming sidewalks.
My eyebrows furrow as I suck the cold up and continue to read the next journal entry.
Kanae, huh... so that's my name. It's such a beautiful name, but with my personality I probably felt some sort of loathe towards it. I'm glad I got Kuzuha to call out my name. It must have saved me back then when I felt like I belonged nowhere and to nobody.
I feel foreign in this body I forgot, but the letters in this journal filled me up with warmth I didn't mind the evening cold anymore.
Now, I remember. They're all starting to come back to me now. The painful memories come rushing towards my brain like it just happened yesterday. It's starting to get lonely.
Ah... I want to see Kuzuha right now.
I only remember the saddest days I've had with him, but I can't seem to recall the memories written in this journal. It's like they've been eaten up and only the least enjoyable parts are being returned to me.
My declaration of love towards Kuzuha written within these pages tear me apart as it hits me: how dare I forget?
I hungrily read through the chapters, looking for reassurance that I did not make a grave mistake. Why am I here, lost alone and with no memory?
Where is he? When were these journal entries written? Was it yesterday or years ago?
Panic shook me to the ground and tears start to well up in my eyes. No, no, no, no....
How long have I been forgetting?
Am I making him wait or have he also forgotten?
I desperately turn to the pages to find any continuation. In my carelessness, the book slips through my fingers and hits the riverside rocks. I gasp with all my worry.
And, it falls. To the raging waters of the city river.
Acting before I have time to think, I leap into the river. I can't lose that journal. I can't just lose the sole reminder I have of someone I love. I keep muttering "Please be here," over and over again as I bend down to feel the rocks underwater to check for a stuck journal.
Thankfully, the water isn't too deep that I have to risk my life for it. The current was just overwhelmingly strong that I could fall and never get on my two feet again if ever I lose my balance.
I'm struggling... Before I know it, I find myself crying while having my hands aimlessly feeling the waters in hopes of finding a lost wet journal.
It shouldn't have gone far... It should just be somewhere here–
There it is!
A sigh of relief escapes my mouth as I grab the journal stuck in a big crack of a mossy rock. At the same time, a sharp edge of the rock cuts the back of my right hand.
"Ah–!," a quick yelp from me, but finally I get my journal back. A bunch of high school students nearby murmur among themselves what seems about me. I walk back to the cement shore in drenched clothes, smiling as I hug the journal close to my heart. I can't blame them, I would see myself as a weirdo, too.
However, this weirdo is too busy thinking about someone else to even care about his own reputation right now.
I clumsily open the journal to check the condition of the pages.
Wet... blurry... the ink which used to spell letters now form abstract black webs and gray blobs.
I feel the world darkening around me.
This page. This page was supposed to tell about how we sang together under the moon, but now it's just a wet piece of paper marbled in jet black ink.
I'm too late.
I hug my knees and cry.
"Please be here," I still softly wail to myself over and over and over again.
How cruel are the heavens to let me forget about him, just to let me recall these precious memories right before I lose everything all over again...
My shivering hands continue to flip through the pages, not sure of what to even look for anymore.
Well... until he finally comes.
"Kanae!," a worried voice calls out towards my direction.
I lift my head, and a fair distance away from me stands a white-haired fellow in a tracksuit. He looks silly wearing red bedroom slippers outside, and his hair shows that he never goes outside. But, in that short moment of time, I come to know.
"K-Kuzuha?"
He runs to my side and grabs my shoulders. "You–... You're crying. Don't cry, please...," he embraces me.
Ah... warm. But, now he's wet, too.
"How long have I forgotten? I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Kuzuha–," I incoherently cry out as I take refuge in his arms.
"Stop apologizing, Kanae. It's okay. You did a good job remembering me. See? You knew who I was when you saw me."
"But I was so scared. I thought I lost you. I'm so so sorry, Kuzuha," I lay myself and my insecurites bare before this man. This is really pathetic, I would usually think, but right now I feel nothing else but relief and guilt.
He brushes my apologies off and instead gets horrified by my injured hand, "What happened to your hand?? We have to get it treated, ahh– I'm not good at first-aids. I should've watched that survival show until the end–"
As he continues to comfort me with clumsy words of worry, my eyes find themselves taking a view of the moonlit sky. The orange and red hues are gone, and now they are replaced with shades of blue similar to the color of ink.
Ah... I am found, I think to myself.
.
.
.
It seems that I've only been lost for a whole long day. I wandered the streets of Tokyo with no memories, only to be found by the city river in drenched clothes.
We reached home just before dinner, so Kuzuha heated up quick microwaveable bentos for both of us. While eating with only my left hand, I got my injured hand treated by Kuzuha who earnestly read a comprehensive first-aid tutorial online. We took a bath together, and tucked ourselves early to bed.
.
.
.
"Kanae? Still awake?," Kuzuha closes the distance between us on the bed as I feel his breath on my neck. I'm afraid to face him. He would probably be upset if he sees tears falling from my face.
"Un," I conservatively replied with a minimal nod.
"Is your hand okay? It was quite a big graze..."
In all honesty, I could just explode from joy. I am finally with the person I love again. It's just... I don't know what to say. There's a low chance missing people ever really come back, so in the rare chance that they do, what do they say?
"I'm so glad I met you," he talks over the train of thoughts running in my head.
I clench the ruined journal as hard as I can with my two arms to stop myself from fully bursting out in tears. Kuzuha patted it dry for me while I took my time in the bathtub earlier, but we both figured there's no saving the ruined pages anymore...
Kuzuha brings his one arm over me and gently caresses my hands and the journal all together. I never really wrote it in the journal, but Kuzuha really does have slim hands.
"I'm mad at myself for not being able to remember the happiest memories I've had with you. It must have been really unfair to you," I solemnly explain without turning to him.
"Kanae... I know about your journal. You write on it to remind yourself about us in case you forget," he softly speaks.
At these words, I find myself facing my whole body towards Kuzuha. "In case I forget?"
A good moment of silence fills our bedroom. I look him in the eyes when I especially know he's bad at eye contact.
"This is the fifth time you forgot about me, Kanae," he displays a rehearsed smile and kisses me on the tip of my nose.
Before I can even respond, he continues talking, "But, I won't stop loving you. Nor will I ever get tired of looking for you."
For five times, I have lost myself and thrown my relationship with him away to the rivers of obscurity. Yet, for five times, he would look for me and call for my name.
I forget every wall I've been trying to build up to hide my hideous emotions away from Kuzuha, and just almost instantly... break to tears.
Today, I feel like I've cried enough for years worth of depression. I grab onto the tugs of his shirt and he respectively responds by offering a hug.
How can a person so selfless... love someone as selfish as me?
We're an epitome of contradictions. A great example of irony.
"Kuzuha, will you stay with me?," I ask him what seems like a desperate question to ask one's lover.
"Dummy, you already know the answer. Of course, I will," he says as he hovers his lips on top of mine.
I find my lips finally forming a smile and my face losing all tense. Comfort is best served warm.
"How did you even know I would be there by the city river?," I curiously follow up with another question.
Kuzuha chuckles softly, "This is a bit cheezy, but that's where we officially became lovers, you know. You even confessed, first."
"Liar! I read in the journal that YOU confessed first," I retort.
"Hah!? T-there was an entry like that in your journal?? Well,... I mean, I diiiiiid confess first; b-but still, you were the one who brought up dating—,"
Fufu, I lied. It was never in the journal.
Kuzuha is really just like a child. Easy to fool and easy to love. I'm a person with pitch black intentions, but no matter how many consciences I acquire and many times I forget, I will still end up falling in love with this person.
He will always save me and I will always be looked for.
I will never be able to get back those happy memories I lost in time, but having Kuzuha beside me tells me we can always create new ones starting now.
"Hey, Kuzuha-san. I love you."
"What is with that gross way of addressing me?," he laughed. "We're not strangers anymore. Have you forgotten even the nicknames you've given me?"
I hugged him tightly. No, I bet my heart and soul, I will never see you as a stranger. Put me in a pitch-black room and I will still be able to recognize you.
"I love you, too, Kanae."