Disclaimer: I don't own Sekaiichi Hatsukoi because it's just too beautiful for me to.

Er, I'm very sorry for this.

Masamune threw his black jacket to the ground as soon as he entered his apartment, not even bothering to get undressed properly. Prominent bruises stuck out from underneath his eyes, which were red and bloodshot from overuse. He felt numb inside. A kimono belt and sandals were tossed aside as well, forgotten for now.

He shuffled to his bedroom and collapsed on top of it, exhausted from the events of the past few days. Exhausted mentally and physically and emotionally. There was just a shell of him now, carved out from the inside by a knife that kept stabbing at his heart. It hurt so much. He rolled over onto his side and stared unseeingly out the window. The clouds were gray and thick, heavy with rain. Seemed to be the perfect way to describe his mood right now. No…if the weather outside reflected how he felt, it would just be dark. No light whatsoever.

Digging his phone out from his pocket, he flipped it open and looked at the last message he received, from Yokozawa right before he left the temple.

Take care of yourself, it said. Masamune couldn't even find it within himself to snort derisively. He just didn't feel anything at all. He tossed the phone aside as well, not even reacting when it broke against the wall. He grabbed the pillow next to him and curled into it, curled his chewed-up nails and crooked fingers into it to try to soothe the pain. It didn't help. It didn't stop the tears from coming again. The pillow was soaked in seconds, covered in the loss and salty ocean tears of a man who'd just had his whole life taken away from him.

Masamune fell asleep like that, hair a mess and eyes red-rimmed from crying and tired from all the aches and pains he'd been feeling for the last couple of days. He knew that there would be many many nights spent like this now, tucked into a corner like dark shadows, wanting to escape, wanting to get away from everything.

The barest faint of a touch woke him up. He was always a light sleeper, anyways. His eyes cracked open as he blinked in the darkness, disoriented and hoping against anything in the entire world that everything had just been a dream, a terrible nightmare he'd wake up from. His heart nearly stopped when he looked up. There was that face, the one that interrupted his dreams and made a mess of his emotions and tore everything apart with his presence.

It smiled sadly at him, just once, and nodded. Masamune had no idea what it meant, but before he could even choke out the name, the apparition was gone as quickly as it had come. He screamed, he yelled, he sobbed into his pillow—there was nothing he could do. Yokozawa had said to take care of himself. How could he do that now, when everything he'd lived for, breathed for, was gone?

Flower petals fell to the floor in a mourning dance as he clutched at the stems the next day, standing in front of the piece of stone that had literally killed his soul. He couldn't stay for long. The memories always hit him hardest when he was here. So he placed the flowers down gently, as gently as if he was holding the smooth pale cheek of that face he loved, and left, not wanting to be around there anymore. He just couldn't.

Ritsu Onodera

Loving son and husband

March 27, 1986 – December 24, 2011

A/N: Oh my god, you guys, I am so sorry for writing this. I don't know why I did it, I was just in that mood for killing off people, like really really sad, and so I wrote this.

Wow, I was good at writing abstract ideas.

-ChemicallyEnhanced