We've reached the end, haven't we? Ah, it was such a nice ride. Thank you for all those who PM'D me and those who reviewed, liked, favorited, subscribed and basically read my story.

Introduction of a new character: This character wasn't in the manga nor the anime, however, she's essential to the story because basically, it's like author meets Misaki. So what I'm saying is that everything the female character says pertains to a certain aspect of my life. :)

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The one that got away

-Kuraineko66

"Thank you for meeting me here," She didn't move. Misaki didn't expect her to either; "I know it's against protocol for you to meet me here, so really, from the bottom of whatever heart I have left, thank you."

Misaki could hardly retain his flinch when she joined him, on the bridge, and grabbed his hand. "Entirely inappropriate and unprofessional."

She squeezed his hand, "But entirely understandable."

After the initial shock, Akihiko sank to his knees, and read:

First things first Usagi-san,

I am sorry. What for? I'm not entirely sure. But I am so sorry that you are in love with a man who can't seem to escape the darkness. We both thought I was getting better, I thought we would be able to continue our regular way of life. That's just not possible anymore. I won't let that be possible anymore.

And I'm sorry for that. I am. But I can't help thinking that I am already dead; I am in hell. Do you understand? No, of course you wouldn't. It wouldn't matter if I killed myself because I, drowning in all my sins, am already a hallow shell of who I was. As much as I scratch and tear, my skin smells like burning flesh. It aches like coal and rocks, it burns like matches and acid, my skin bleeds-the flesh tears and rips against the manacles that hold me. And it won't stop bleeding, creating a river to drown others with.

I'm sorry. But I am a walking corpse. I am dead. I am already too dead to be saved.

Akihiko started pacing; calling Misaki's cell was useless. It went straight to voicemail. "Fuckin' idiot."

Misaki took the object out of his pocket and thrust it at his friend with so much force it sliced her hand and had her cursing lightly. She supposed she should be used to this, Misaki wasn't the first to bring a weapon. Wasn't the first to harm her with said weapon, be it accidental or purposefully. Actually, it wasn't the first time her skin had been cut by a blade. For that, she winced slightly. However, he was the first to look as if said weapon were burning his skin each moment it remained in his vicinity. And he was the first that she would stand on the ledge of a bridge for.

Looking down at death, eyes squinting, she lifted up her glasses and threw them down. To let Misaki know that falling was endless. That once you reached the bottom, you died and dissented into a world unknown. She really didn't know if that was motivation to jump or motivation not to. Well, either choice he made, she would be there with him every step of the way. Like no one had done for her.

With no emotion, because that's just how she was, she held the knife in her hand and opened her mouth to speak. Being so used to everyone asking him why, Misaki began to grow increasingly upset. Why did you do it? Why are you so depressed? Why would you want to leave your perfect, lavish life? Why? WHY? Always fucking why.

Every therapist he had ever went to have always asked him 'why'. And he wasn't prepared to answer that question, ESPECIALLY if he was contemplating between the few meager choices he had at living.

But that's not what she said. She looked into his eyes and said, "Who are you?"

I guess I could tell you where I am. It would be easier, you would be able to get me down from the ledge I'm probably on…if I haven't jumped. No…No, I won't jump. At least, I hope not. I had always been a cutter. I'll probably always be a cutter. So if I were going to end my life, it would be with the blade.

Anyway, It would be easier if you were here. I would be a coward and pretend that everything was all right when really, for the past five years of my pathetic life, everything has been a shit hole. I am a failure in everything. I don't know if I could live like this anymore. I don't know…I just don't think that I'd be able to function feeling like I'm suffocating inside a jar. Like I'm on display for everyone who's normal; to judge me. To tell me how fucking perfect their life is.

"Misaki…please…" Although he knew no one would be listening Akihiko had hoped Misaki would hear him. If he was still alive.

As much as I lean on you for support, you destroy me. You are my light to the dark and the dark to my light. I am drowning because I have to live with you being miserable with me; every night I spend crying, every day I spend indoors, every second I spend in recovery with you is a minuet more of your life that I don't deserve.

This guilt, I deserve everything I've ever done to myself. I deserve every feeling of self-hate, every demon that has penetrated my core and raped my soul. I deserve to die. And you know, fuck me, because even though I believe I'm a worthless piece of shit, I'm not; I deserve to live! I have been nothing but self-less, I have let Takahiro run his feelings right through me, I have let your family continue treating me as inferior, I have let the world walk up and down on my chest leaving mud on my clothes.

I don't deserve to be sick; I should deserve to be free. Alive, well, happy, and free.

I shouldn't be living for anyone. Not for you! Not for the doctors who only worsen my self hate! Not for the therapists who think I'll get better with a few pills and wishful thinking. I deserve to live for myself. But I don't feel that I'm worthy, and that is why I am now colder than the fire burning within me.

Misaki looked at her in shock, "I thought…" Misaki gulped, "You haven't asked me why yet. Out of the three weeks I've been seeing you, you haven't once asked me why? Don't you want to know? "

Her eyebrow raised, "No. I don't, I already know why."

Her eyes glossed over. No longer was she speaking to her patient nor to her new friend, she was speaking of herself to herself, "You don't want your family members to know how much you're suffering with your feelings, not because you'll hurt them but because you've always been the composed one. You listen to everyone else's problems as you kill yourself slowly. Drugs won't help, alcohol won't help, and therapists sure as hell don't help."

Misaki looked at her shocked, "I-"

"And most of all, the most important fact of why you're not already dead, is because you are afraid of what lies ahead of you. You don't want to face those you've disgraced by trying to kill yourself and you don't want to be dragged into a hell worse than the one we're in already."

Misaki could only nod, picking up on the fact that she had addressed herself as 'those who don't want to face themselves' "Y-yea…" No therapist of his had every said those unbearable truths. It was almost as if she was speaking from the heart, like she had been in his shoes; he could feel her emotions, matching in pain and suffering with his. "I-"

Coming out of her trance her back straightened and the tone of professionalism returned, "So…again…I ask, who are you?"

"Broken." He didn't hesitate nor did he lie. He was a defeated man, with no pride left for his family.

"And when will you be fixed?" She hissed the word 'fixed' like it was burning her tongue.

Misaki flinched and let silence carry out the air of awkwardness.

"I know it isn't something that goes away in a day," He was staring intently at the water beneath him. "Or in a year, or two for that matter…yet I feel…I feel that it can go away…but I'm not trying hard enough…" he paused, carefully choosing his next choice of words, "I want this to be over. I need this to be over. Frankly, I don't think I can handle another day of living in fear that Akihiko will come home to be dead."

She shook her head, "No, Misaki."

His eyebrows furrowed as he shifted his body so he could watch her face. Emotionless. Misaki didn't know what was going through her head. He never could figure it out, yet he knew, that she had gone through sufferings unlike him. Holding onto the support beam, she pointed the knife at Misaki's throat, "You are afraid of the monster you have created."

She pressed harder, "And of the demons tormenting your mind-festering in your closet."

A trickle of blood dropped onto his shirt, weaving itself into the fabric of his clothes, "You are afraid of the thoughts you have, you are afraid of death, and you are afraid that the only one that matters," Usagi-san, Misaki filled with guilt, "Will hate you for who you have become."

Misaki tried to deny it, he tried to defend himself, but he didn't have enough energy to do so.

"But…Misaki...You are so much like me." She smiled and closed her eyes, "Because most importantly, the thing you fear most is indeed….yourself."

And it was true.

I haven't been taking my meds.

What? How could Akihiko not have noticed that his beautiful Misaki was off his meds? It was his fault that Misaki was probably dead. Akihiko sobbed again and scratched at his skin. He couldn't take this anymore. His love for Misaki was poisoning his heart. Akihiko figured, after he read the letter, he would join Misaki wherever the young boy was. Whether he was alive or dead. Because he was just so fucking tired of being alone.

They make my head hurt, they make me feel so worthless. They stop me from killing myself though, but they make me so dull and boring and NOT myself at all. So now I'm off them and it's been…two weeks? I have thought about suicide on a numerous of occasions. I've had to talk myself out of doing it. I have you, I would tell myself.

But do I really have you? Of course, until death do us part. Akihiko allowed himself a small smile. You are not my possession; I don't own you as you own me. Let's face it Akihiko, you have the option to leave me but I can never leave you.

I have become so dependent on you that every breath I take awaits your approval, it not your fault but mine. I really fucked it up this time…didn't I dear?

Today will change all of that.

No…no…

I will gain my own independence. I will not fail this time. I am sure of my actions; I no longer have energy to care. But if I did…if I did have the energy to care, it would be because you, once again, found me and saved me.

I'm scared. Usagi-san, I am scared. But I hope…oh god I hope so much that I will beat the clock this time.

And there was a glimmer of hope in Akihiko that Misaki was still alive. He grabbed his keys and ran out of the house, reading all the way.

"And of your lover?" Her legs had gotten cold in the freezing Japan climate. She had never liked winter much, despite being born in December. "Isn't he the reason why you're still alive?"

Misaki's eyes watered again. "He's the only thing that gets me through these fits. He is such a perfect, loving, compassionate husband…he doesn't deserve me."

Misaki sobbed out, "Oh god, what am I doing? How could I do this to him? How could I be so fucking selfish! Why can't I be normal?"

She nodded, simply because she knew how he felt. Or rather, she knows how he feels. Without her spoken acceptance, Misaki continued in a calmer manner. His eyes were shut closed. The taste of seawater touched his tongue; the smell of freedom brushed his face. The drop was clouded by mist and, although it was almost 3:15, the water was covered with gray and black. To Misaki, the drop from the bridge to the water looked like a pit.

A pit to hell. Misaki shivered.

"I know you diagnosed me and that I have depression and that I feel sad all the time…but…I just feel…I don't know…never mind, you wouldn't understand."

"But I do." She smiled sweetly, the first specs of emotion shining onto her face, "I…when I was young, I tried to overdose. Obviously it didn't work…but I still tried. Nearly died too. Should have…but I didn't, I didn't for a reason. And you didn't for a reason."

He smiled and she simply didn't know what to do when the hand, encompassing hers, squeezed tighter, "I…can't help feeling that I should push whatever feeling I have aside. For Usagi-san, but I'm strong and I don't know if I'll survive-"

"You will survive!" Her voice startled Misaki but he regained his balance and looked over at her face. Tears were trailing down her tanned face, curling around the strands of brown hair that dared mask her emotions. "I am not here as a therapist, I am not even here as a friend. I am here because I know what you are going through. I am living with what you are going through."

"I know you do."

"I will show you," She held out her arm; hair flowing in the wind, eyes squinted and teary, she dropped the knife down into the pit, "That although death may need you, you do not need death."

He rubbed the tears away from his face, "I'm sorry."

She shook her heard, "Be sorry for the things you have done, not the things that you have witnessed."

"Thank you."

She nodded her head and backed off of the ledge, "As I said, I am too afraid to die."

He breathed in slowly and cried, again, for the amount of pain Usagi-san would have to endure. "Yea…"

"But you must do what you have come here for: the choice is yours….this is your form of independency."

"Thank you for everything. I finally…I can do it without…thank you." Misaki shut his eyes closed and squeezed.

And she knew, right there, the choice Misaki would make. She also knew whose car that was speeding towards them. And she knew, that despite only knowing the boy for a short amount of time, despite being his therapist and despite being a professional, she would save him. He was everything that she prided herself to be, and if no one had saved her, she would make sure that she saved him.

"Goodbye." She said and, unbeknown to him, prepared herself for the events to come.

Time stopped as he began falling forwards. If he was going to go, he might as well enjoy his descent. He made no move to stop himself from falling.

She froze, whether it was awe or terror, she didn't know. He did it. He had allowed himself death, a freedom that she had always dreamed of.

"NO! MISAKI!"

Misaki's eyes flew open. Usagi-san? It was too late. He was falling-the wind rushed out to greet him, arms wrapped around his neck pulling him closer to his impending doom. Sharp pain collided into his head and he blacked out.

It was too late.

…It was too late.

…It…too late?

Too…too late…it was…

He was…falling?

Oh…

He had jumped.

I know I can never look at a knife without my skin wanting to be touched and caressed by it. But that's just my flaw.

Or one of my flaws because god knows I have many of them.

But Akihiko. This letter is different than the first one you read. This one is a letter to show that I have changed. That I have stopped struggling against the manacles of my depression. I am strong and I am not living because of you anymore. I am living because I owe myself that much; I have abused myself. And I pray, that from the bottom of my heart, you understand why I must do this.

Why I must end it all. Because I am strong.

Akihiko. I think you should know that I love you. I am your husband and I love you. I have loved you when your brother kidnapped me, when your father tried to threaten me away, and when you hit me that one time after I told you I would set myself on fire. Don't worry I forgive you as you forgive me. We were both really drunk.

And I made a promise; I will love you through death. If death is the only way of escape for me, I will still love you. Even if my soul is dragged to hell and I burn everyday-I will love you.

I'm sorry Akihiko, for everything that I am. For everything that I was. And for everything that I couldn't be.

You will find me and you may even rescue me.

Akihiko drove faster and faster until he was speeding through each red light. He read the last sentence and shivered, every hope drained from his body.

But you will never save me.

His blood froze, Misaki jumped; "NO! MISAKI!"

Misaki was genuinely surprised. His therapist didn't say much, she observed in a neutral attitude and Misaki was grateful that he wasn't being judged. Today was the first that she allowed emotions on her face. Yet, he couldn't ignore the fact that his vision was returning to him and she was the first thing he saw. He blinked twice and looked up. Her hair was disheveled, she was hunched over the ledge, hair wild, face twisted, brown eyes marred in pain. She clenched harder. "I thought you understood!"

She growled, "I do fucking understand!" Misaki gasped. She never had emotions, never. So why now? "It's because I fucking understand that I'm saving you, you moronic piece of shit."

Misaki couldn't see much since he was dangling from the ledge of a bridge, but he could feel himself being handed off to another person.

Usagi-san.

"Misaki, please- I'll listen to you more. I'll do anything just please; help me get you-" Akihiko was cut off by the 5 foot woman who sat herself on the ledge, back against the support beam. "No."

"No, no more talking."

Misaki bit his lip to stop crying. He was strong. "Usagi-san I'm sorry. I am so so-"

"I said, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Both males stared at the short woman in shock, "You are a selfish and you deserve to die."

Akihiko reeled back and almost dropped Misaki. "How dare you-"

"You deserve to be hated and judged. You deserve every second you suffocate, you deserve every scratch you give yourself and you are the reason your father is dead."

"S-Stop." Misaki sobbed out loud, "You are filth. You are trash. Do you think you are worthy of love? All guys want to do is fuck you and leave you."

"Please…p-please stop." Misaki was shaking; it was hard for Akihiko to hold him. The silver haired male began pulling his lover up. The only thing left was for Misaki to let go of the bar that he was clutching onto.

"If you don't shut your mouth I swear to-" Once again, Akihiko went ignored to the brown eyed, brown haired beauty. However, it wasn't her words that silenced him. It was the endless depths that were in her eyes. She held so much sadness, so much anger, in two slightly dilated pupils. Akihiko couldn't argue, despite his Misaki being verbally attacked. Her sadness encompassed any hatred Akihiko could ever harbor for her.

"Your father died knowing that you hated him. He thought you hated him! How could you let him think that? You were his daughter, his jewel. His baby! And you fucking let him think he was unworthy of your attention."

"No…no…nooo!"

Daughter? Akihiko paused to think. Iris eyes widened, she was…speaking about herself?

"You whored yourself off to the first man that found you pretty. Nobody heard you struggle because you didn't deserve to be saved."

"That's not true!"

Misaki let go of the ledge and Akihiko dragged his lover to safety. Misaki fell, head first, into Akihiko's broad chest. The two stayed like that for a while; Akihiko breathing and Misaki listening to his heartbeat. The tears welled up in his eyes and Misaki jumped on his feet.

"You!" He pointed his finger at the girl, still on the ledge. "I thought you were my friend! How could you say all of those-"

"Now…who are you?"

Misaki looked at her flabbergasted. "W-What? What does-"

"Who are you?"

He clicked his teeth.

"You know who I am."

To this day, the haunted look on his therapist's face made him shiver. "Yes, but do you?"

"This has nothing to do with who I am! Who the hell do you think you are? Judging me! Nothing you fucking said is true!"

"You are a disgrace. WHO ARE YOU?"

"I'M MISAKI! I'M WORTHY! I'M FUCKING WORTH! I deserve to live for myself! I DESERVE TO LIVE FOR...myself."

She smirked, "And where are you?"

"On the ground, idiot…on the ground?" Misaki smiled and jumped into Akihiko's arms. "I'm on the ground!"

Akihiko clutched Misaki like a lifeline. "I'm…I'm…"

"I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry anymore. I can't…I won't…" Misaki locked lips with Akihiko, "If I go…"

"Then take me with you."

Misaki nodded and kissed Misaki.

She looked down again. Her tears slithered off of her face and fell into the forgotten pit.

And just like it had come, Misaki had broken through the surface and breathed. Truly breathed.

The girl with brown, wavy curls was still dying, still crumbling inside. But he was no longer drowning and that was all that mattered.

A happy ending? Or is it really?

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