Never Again

All because he was too late. All the signs had been there, but he was too blind to see them. And Kazuha's injuries had resulted because of him.

"Kuso," Heiji growled, and pounded his fist against the wet shower tiles in front of him. The steam and hot water pouring down on him made it hard to see his own hands in front of his face, but he could still think clearly. He could still blame himself for what happened.

"Why didn't I… I should have… Urgh!" Heiji hit the wall again and winced slightly as he scraped his skin against the tiles, but he didn't care. A serial killer had been going around Osaka, killing women with brown hair and green eyes at night. Heiji had been running around town with full intentions of catching the serial killer, but he had missed one very important detail—all of the women killed had some sort of connection with the police. The woman Heiji had thought to be the next victim certainly did have brown hair and green eyes, but she had no connection whatsoever to the police force. Only after arguing with her and his father for a good ten minutes, the answer slapped him cruelly across the face.

"The killer… was after Kazuha," Heiji whispered. He shut off the water abruptly and stepped out of the shower. Once he was in his room, he lifted his hand to inspect the recent injury. The blood hadn't clotted due to the hot water, obviously. It was still running, fresh and red. Like Kazuha…

She had been found in an alleyway, kidnapped and drugged from her home. When Heiji had found her she was nearly unconscious. Blood ran from her head where it had been beaten with something, and her left leg was broken, twisted at a grotesque angle. She had fainted in his arms and was still comatose, after two days.

"Hei-chan? Can you please open the door?" Shizuka asked from the hallway. Heiji got up from the bed, fully dressed now, and opened the door to his mother.

"Hei-chan, let's go to the hospital. The doctor called to say that Kazuha woke up, and she's calling for you." Heiji's weary expression immediately perked into shock and relief at Shizuka's words.

"Kazuha… is awake? She's not comatose anymore?" he breathed in disbelief, relief flooding through his voice and body. "And she wants to see me?"

Shizuka nodded and smiled at her son, but the smile she offered was laced in sadness. Heiji didn't notice, and he grabbed his jacket from the rack. "Let's go then!" he said.

But in the hospital, Heiji's happy mood dissolved into guilt and sadness. Kazuha lay on the bed, her head completely covered in bloodstained bandages. A bulky white cast peeked out from underneath the blanket, holding her broken leg in place. Tubes ran from her nose and nearly every inch of skin available on her arm. She didn't look like Kazuha Toyama anymore; only her bright green eyes remained the same.

"H-hey, Kazuha, how are you feeling?" Heiji asked softly, trying not to let the lump in his throat crack his voice. "I'm so sorry that I didn't realize it earlier. It's completely my fault that this happened to you. My stupid fire temper got the better of me, and I just had to argue with that woman for ten minutes. If I had just moved on to find you, this wouldn't have happened…"

"Ahou," Kazuha whispered, and Heiji took another crushing blow. Normally when Kazuha called him that, she was loud and angry, and strong. But now she sounded frail, like she would fall apart if she spoke any louder.

"Ahou, I hold a two-dan in aikido," she reminded him. "I could have taken him down, but I didn't. I was just waiting around when I could have saved myself. Don't blame yourself." She reached out and took Heiji's hand. Heiji gently gave it a squeeze, but he only felt tape and plastic tubes accompanied by needles.

"Don't worry, Kazuha," Heiji assured her, "we'll find that lunatic who attacked you, and then you can beat him to a pulp with your martial arts." They both laughed weakly and fell silent. For the first time since he arrived, Heiji noticed the machine monitoring Kazuha's heartbeat. The beeping was slow and gradually decreasing in speed. Heiji was hit with another wave of pain as he realized why Kazuha had called for him: she knew that she was dying.

"You know, I think this is the quietest I've ever heard you, Heiji, for this long of a time," Kazuha joked. "Seriously, this is the first time I've ever seen you like 

this, and I've known you forever. You are, after all, the Man with the Permanently Open Mouth."

Heiji cleared his throat and smiled weakly. "Yeah, I guess I just have a lot to think about," he answered.

Kazuha's face was bandaged, but her eyes frowned at him. "You're blaming yourself for what happened to me," she accused him. "I told you not to! You're only human; you couldn't possibly have read the killer's mind to see who he would attack. He may not have chosen me that night. It was probably just a bit of bad luck on my part that I happened to choose a shortcut through an alleyway on my way home from aikido practice." Her green eyes grew soft. "I don't like to see you so burdened, Heiji. I really don't."

"Kazuha…" Heiji didn't know how to respond. Part of him knew that Kazuha was right, but the other part still believed that he could have realized sooner… No, he would honor Kazuha's request. He wanted her to be happy.

"Alright then, I won't blame myself for this," he told her, and Kazuha's face immediately lit up in a smile.

"Thank you Heiji. That's good to know." She closed her eyes and sighed. The beeping of the machine beside her bed slowed even more.

"Kazuha—,"

"I'll see you again someday, Heiji, but hopefully not too soon, okay?" Kazuha finally opened her eyes. "Hey, you're crying. You really shouldn't, it doesn't suit you," she advised him.

Heiji closed his eyes in despair, and more tears spilled from his eyes. Suddenly, a gentle hand brushed the tears away from his cheek. He opened his eyes to see Kazuha reaching up, and he took her hand gingerly.

"Kazuha, please, don't go," he pleaded.

"I love you, ahou," Kazuha replied, and closed her emerald green eyes for the last time. The slow beeps gradually mellowed into a single tone, a mournful wail of sorrow. Heiji, still holding Kazuha's hand, sank to his knees and let the tears 

flow. He would never hear her voice again. He would never again see her eyes sparkle, never see her smile again. Never again would her feel her touch, even if it were a punch or kick. And he would never be able to tell her he loved her.

Aw, I made Kazuha die! I'm currently awaiting angry mobs… But these are heartbreak fictions, so yeah. Tell me your reactions to this! One friend, we'll call her Eisuke here, snorted and said this story was a load of horse mucus, while another, Mitsuhiko we shall say, wailed about how sad it was. What about you?