I know EXACTLY what to blame this oneshot on. I blame it all on this one picture I saw on Pixiv that released this horrendously depressing idea upon me, and now it's haunting me. So in an effort to get it out, I will show you just how freakin depressing of an idea it is.

So freaking depressing ;_;…

Disclaimer: If I owned this, there wouldn't be so much debate about that ending and this would probably not exist.

~What Will (Never) Be~

It always started the same way. A hillside, a large tree, the two of them sitting side-by-side beneath the giant oak, hands intertwined.

It was in that moment there would be talk, of many things. Of secrets, of feelings, of regrets, but the moment was always special because it was the first exchange of three words neither ever thought they would say to anyone.

The scenery would then change, like water rippling in a sea of memories. It would be fall in the nearby park, where they walked along a beaten path, hands still intertwined, shoulders touching. All around them was a whirlwind of vibrant warm colors, and it was there, amidst a circle of maples and oaks shedding red, orange and yellow that they shared their first kiss.

Next would come an unwelcome scene, but he supposed it would be necessary. After all, his teacher wasn't the most…accepting of people, even though he means well. He imagines Kouichi and Raimei taking it well; Raimei would especially be happy for him. The Wakachi were also likely to be both happy and accepting, given their similar circumstances. Perhaps the most accepting—he hopes—would be his grandmother and Hana.

In another ripple, he's at his graduation ceremony. To everyone else, it's a time of celebration and finally being out in the real world. But for him, it's a celebration because he can finally live alone with his love and both can start new lives.

After the ceremony, they would walk together to their personal hangout, which had become more overgrown and rustic with the years that had passed. But none of that mattered, because it was theirs, and they were alone, away from judging eyes. It was here that he received the best gift he could ever be given: his first time.

They spent many hours together looking for the right apartment. It was only temporary, until they both could afford a house on a cliff side that he would always imagine. Even though both knew that they could be homeless and still have a home together.

He would always be annoyed at his country's ideals and society. He wants to have a special ring on his finger and his love's finger, but it would probably never happen in their lifetimes, because despite the other boy's medical condition, they were both male.

Still, despite that, they would frequently talk about having a family, together, if they could. Talking about it was better than keeping silent, after all. They would muse about possible options (no, Raimei can't surrogate, Kouichi would never let her), the number, the names. Sometimes at night he would dream about a child that was a perfect combination of her parents.

More ripples and more memories would dance through the water. He would envision the many times he'd cook for them, how safe and warm his arms felt, the way he looked when he slept after special nights together. But most of all, it was the happiness he felt. The sheer, warm glow that would surround and engulf his heart every time he thought of his love, or saw him, felt him, kissed him. Everyone was happy, everything was perfect…

And then, like a diver needing oxygen, the surface of the water would break as he startled awake. And it was during this that his mind would wake up and reality would crash down on his heart and skull.

This was not a one-bedroom apartment outside of Tokyo and this was not a shared double bed. This was his bedroom above an Okonomiyaki restaurant, in the little village of Banten. And this was his single twin bed, only big enough for his small person. And the one person he loves, his soul mate and other half…

…was dead.

Never to be seen again except for in the afterlife. Remembering that fact made the dream all the more bittersweet, but all he could ever do was clutch the large hat—the one belonging he could keep—and cry bitter, painful tears into his pillow.

He did this every time, for every dream. Dreams of what would never be.

;_;

Damnit, Pixiv…*cries in corner*

~Kalana Fox