Disclaimer: Of my possession, there is nothing except an overused laptop and an underused brain. Inspiration, unfortunately, does not come easily; hence, several pieces of literature will be quoted haphazardly throughout the story.

Pairing: Yukino Yukinoshita/Hikigaya Hachiman

Themes: Romance/Angst

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requiem

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when one is in love, one begins by deceiving one's self

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[i - decay]

Hikigaya Hachiman makes no secret of his disdain for societal expectations, a self-proclaimed monster of logic. So when his world crumbles in his sight, it is a realized irony greater to no one than himself that perhaps his quest for something genuine leaves no place for a man to fall.

Yukinoshita Yukino is a strong girl. He knows this. So when pulsating waves of green come careening to a halt, as cerulean eyes, so cold yet so warm, become sightless forevermore, there could be no other conclusion. Cradled by the grasp of the metallic construct, the white of the furnishings contrasting so beautifully with sparkling orbs Hikigaya Hachiman must not forget, lies a girl forever cold, forever dead, forever remembered. Desperation marks rushed action as he dreadfully grasps her; hoping, hoping for something, a vibration, a sensation that might contradict what must be feared. So many things left unsaid in his cowardice, the i love you that he could never say, reassurances to those who remain unable to be assured.

And as uniformed figures scramble in the midst, he stays silent, stalwart in a sea of confusion as a blanket drenched in white is draped over her, as if recollecting the blankness of death. He knows he should be saying something, feeling something, but there is nothing. What words can dare to convey the emotions, the act of simply existing one moment and not existing the next? His endless sophistry succumbs to the hollowness of empty eyes of cyan, colder than the snow that befits her name, her personality. Her evergreen luster, gazing upon the peculiarities of life, lay waste; no rival to the encumbered grasp of death.

'I'm sorry, sir, please move away from the...'

try as he will, he can not lie to himself

Any professional respect earned for such a person disappears in the air; his body refuses to progress in any direction but forward. He presses himself to her, numb with shock as a painted canvas unwinds, the color of life fading, waiting for any response, a signal to return to him. A beating heart is said to pulsate 60 to 100 times a minute, as he recalls from foregone science classes, but he can sense none of this vitality in his grasp.

And as the chill of a winter's night sets in, where one woman succumbs finally to fate's hand, a man, in synchronicity, finally allows himself to fall, as a lone tear drapes down his emotionless visage.

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death is just a path, one which all must take

The marked stone depicting the loss of Yukino Yukinoshita's life stood stalwart in its permanency, as if to taunt the observer of life foregone.

She had never liked crowds, but in unison, such a crowd has congregated on her behalf. Many could not admit to knowing her well, but one might desire an excuse to drain unwanted grief. Her parents, strict and controlling by nature, lay their emotions bare, weeping by stone etched upon and soil shifted with surgical efficiency, in an almost circular microcosm of nature's wrath.

He had never seen Haruno in such a depressed state before, but perhaps if there were to be an occasion for such a happening, it must be then. Isshiko, Hayama, and other various acquaintances stood, overcome by several varying stages of mourning, but he did not care, could not care, in his bout of selfishness.

Yui Yuigahama is a nice girl, this much he knew.

Her speech, a reflection on the girl she knew and coincidentally, the girl she didn't know, was heartbreaking, leaving no person without shed tears, who can not help but read the carved stone; as if some words of stone could summarise sufficiently the vastness of a life and its loss. Every memory recalled must be preserved in the mind of Hikigaya Hachiman, for that would be the least he could do for such a girl he once knew.

'It is impossible for us to be friends.'

~ there can be no greater lie than claiming not to lie ~

'After all, I didn't know you well.'

(But he knew, he knew too much, even.)

'But now, I do.'

(As they reflect upon their happenings in a sunset-stained rooms, it might only mark the beginning of friendship, yet so much more.)

Indeed, on this day, one metaphorical horse might finally reach for its own water, but life brings this horse water in different ways.

'Congratulations, Yukinoshita. Perhaps now, I have finally fulfilled your request,' as a twisted expression encompasses his face. She can finally be released from her worries, her responsibilities, her expectations.

The room of the Service Club, resplendent in the numerous stickers on its door, lies barren in her absence, yet not barren, as he imagines the life once injected into this room, his thoughts and reason becomes more disorientated and shaky as his body heaves forward, shaking in wretched gasps, as tears overcome his once dead eyes. Anguish consumes his entire being, despite his desperate efforts, but he is unable to stop. No more will she give her advice in her supercilious tone, nor will she wave reluctantly in a misplaced act of social normality.

Boxes lie collected in the room, and the saucer of tea remains stationary in disuse, but he can not find it in himself to place his grief into disuse as well. The memories, the remnants of the girl he should love, must love, does love lie scattered in his mind, as he desperately places himself back on the beaten track, if only, if only he could push these detested emotions to the back of his mind, to be forgotten. But he knows it to be impossible anyway because he thinks of her every fucking day, even if she's dead, and if anyone must remember her, he selfishly allocates himself to be the one who reminds those who turn a blind eye to a woman forgotten, as his pillow drowns in the bleeding river of his frustration.

(Because perhaps it's time for him to get over her.)

Komachi quickly learns that when her Onii-chan releases desperate pleas in his sleep, she isn't supposed to wake him up. Especially if he rises rapidly from his bed, in rapid and shortened breaths, yelling the name of a certain Pan-san loving girl.

The first time she attempted it, her brother's hand grasp with vicious force with almost a killing vengeance, almost as if behind those dead eyes, he imagines the force that rips Yukinoshita's life from her.

He stands outside the Service Club room, the sunset pouring into the hallway, as he bears her insults, one at a time in a barrage of disdain, but for some reason, today of all days seems more tolerable than most. He resumes reading, flicking open his light novel, and listening to the excited Yuigahama say one thing or another and her beloved Yukinon replying in more reserved tones, as she pours tea into his Pan-san mug, with muttered opinions of gratitude. He sighs contentedly, maybe this isn't the something genuine, but he thinks that this is a good place to start.

Then he wakes up and the feeling of contentment disappears also. Hundreds of these memories spent in the Service Club dissipate, becoming mere hallucinations in a complex maze of jumbled thoughts, especially when he sees Yuigahama; and he is reminded that he is not alone in suffering, that she too mourns for her best friend. He's recently picked up the habit of taking walks with no destination in mind, and perhaps one of these days as he sees Totsuka, who gives a pained smile towards him, reassuring him that he's just thinking about things and there's nothing to worry about.

(Especially since Totsuka hasn't the heart to tell him, it's been six months since she died.)

Sometimes Yuigahama also takes her own walks; where she resists the nightmares in her sleep, but as she walks past Yukinon's apartment (by chance, she says to herself), she sometimes sees Hikki, pressed against the concrete structure, bent over in a state of confusion, still wrought by regrets.

(Of course she knows, these days, she can speak from experience.)

But this particular day, instead of comforting him together, she walks past, because she knows that seeing him like this, more dead than usual, as she masks her pain behind her cheerful visage, will only make her cry as well.

[ii - rebirth]

('Do you think Yukinoshita's become more... I dunno... more reserved?' Hikigaya asks Yuigahama; Yukinoshita's at a family function apparently and he's not convinced he would be brave enough to make such opinions if she were here.

Yuigahama answers with her typical energy, albeit with a slight hesitation, 'Um, what do you mean, Hikki?'

'Well,' he responds, not certain as to how he might piece together his thoughts, 'I'm not sure.')

'Why?' Hikigaya accuses harshly, his dead eyes glancing, with a life defying its nature, at the immaculate gravestone. 'You left me like this, so uncertain, so confused - but with something genuine.'

Yukino, are you even listening?

'You...'

He jerks his head sharply, exhaling quietly. 'You left me behind. You weren't supposed to die.'

Yuigahama slaps him on the face.

And perhaps, as he thinks about it carefully, he deserves it.

After all, it doesn't take a genius to guess what someone in such a situation walking to the roof of the science building might be thinking of doing.

He's never seen her angry before; upset, yes, but angry, never. Her brown eyes, dampened with unshed tears, nearly as vibrant as those shining blue eyes, focus on him in a furious and despairing gaze, and a piece of his heart breaks; Yui Yuigahama acts as a constant reminder of his burden, how it must be shared, and for some reason, looking at her like this hurts, and it's painful to think about why she is like this, why he must not break down in front of her, even now.

'I understand, Hikigaya-kun.' Not calling me Hikki anymore because she doesn't have the heart to be friendly to such a constant reminder of her loss. 'You're hurting, and you think there's no point to life anymore - but suicide is not the answer! You need to stop acting like you're the only one suffering from her death because you're not, okay? I miss her, too!'

'You never-'

'Don't you dare say I didn't love her,' Yuigahama answers, incensed, 'I loved her just as much as you did, if not more. It wasn't romantic love like you, but that doesn't mean I didn't love her any less. She was my best friend-' She stops to turn herself around for him, wiping the tears that threaten to fall from her eyes.

Once upon a time, Hachiman Hikigaya had considered Yui Yuigahama as someone who could be more than a friend; contrary to opinion, he wasn't dense enough to not figure out such things.

But now there is, there could only be Yukino.

And so he does what he should have a long time ago: he hugs his friend, sobbing in his arms. For today, they can mourn together for the first time. Maybe one day, she will get over what happened. Yuigahama has many a friend to lean on, she'll get through this.

(But on the other hand, Hikigaya might finally tumble down, crashing towards reality.)

If he were to describe his relationship with Yukino Yukinoshita, he wouldn't be sure how to describe it exactly. Teetering on the edge of friendship and something more, yet finding pleasure in routinely denigrating him, she frustrates him like no other (and he might deny it, but pleases him like no other).

So when she starts to distance herself from the Service Club, he does not notice the rift immediately. But of course, Yuigahama sees these things anyway so he didn't waver too long in the dark, anyways. It began with simply talking less to coming to the Service Club less often. And for some unknown reason, her absence seems to matter to him. There was something inexplicable about this own debacle which he could not describe. She is the Ice Queen, remember? He wants to place her in an eternal slumber. It's not like he cares or anything, right? (Right.)

But one of these days, he admits to himself; there is something missing, and what a coincidence, Yukinoshita's also been missing from Service Club. Perhaps it's time he called her. (it's just for her request, he tells himself.) Yet for some odd reason, he hesitates before calling Yukinoshita, almost as if he were a regular high school boy calling a girl. But youth is a lie, of course, and any reason for his hesitation should be unfounded.

'Yukinoshita-

'It didn't work, did it? I tried...' The faint noise of sobbing lingers in the background.

'Hikigaya-kun... Come... come to my apartment... Bring Yuigahama-san, I... I think it's time you found out some things.'

[iii - truth]

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the truth - it is a beautiful and terrible thing

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'I love you... Hikigaya-kun.'

This she summons the strength to proclaim in all her frailty, as she lies weak on her cradle.

A final confession, succumbing slowly to a terminal illness.

'I... I...'

falling silent, there is so much to be said and so little time to say it. but he musters not the strength nor the certainty to say anything, the words he desires most -

he finds himself running, his thoughts a jumble and ohmygodwhycouldinottellheriloveheriloveher

only three words to salvation - with minutes left, he can tell her nothing, but with years and years ahead, he finds he can tell her everything and nothing

and as the black car

approaches-

approaches-

approaches-

thatremindshimsomuchofher

youwererightsalvationlieswithin

he allows himself the briefest of smiles

'i love you too, yukinoshita'

and he knew no more, for there was nothing more that needed to be known

A/N: Thanks for reading this story. Was the skips in time confusing or a bit strange? Please comment/review, this was my first fanfic, so some advice/feedback would be much appreciated.