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"I love you."
It sounds so pained. So desperately, tormentingly pained, for words that are supposed to bring happiness. They're whispered, so lightly that it's almost like the breeze, against his forehead, accompanied with the distant sound of a heart breaking. It's the first thing he hears, the first thing he remembers, the first thing to make its way known to him even before the warmth of sunlight and blankets and the presence of someone beside him.
He opens his eyes slowly.
There is blue; blue in the muted colour of the sheets, blue in the sliver of sky cracking through the window blinds, blue in the eyes of the person gazing at him like he's an entire world. There's sunlight spilling over onto the bed, lighting that person's body with a gentle orange glow. Perhaps, in another life, he would have likened them to the sun, all glowing and gentle and warm.
He doesn't remember who he is.
He doesn't know who they are, either.
If he weren't so tired, maybe terror would have set in a little earlier, but somehow the sense of warmth radiating off this unfamiliar person, off the unfamiliar sheets and the unfamiliar room seems to dull it enough to ask, calmly:
"Who am I? Who are you?"
Quietly, they sigh and smile. It's a pretty smile, he thinks, but there's a tiredness in their eyes that gives their expression a muted sadness.
"I'm Akehoshi Subaru. Do you remember your name?"
He shakes his head.
"Your name is Hidaka Hokuto." There's a pause, then they continue. "Do you want to know why you can't remember?"
Hokuto.
The name sounds right, somehow. His name is Hokuto.
Hokuto nods.
Subaru's face turns grave in that instant, voice softening. "About five years ago, you were in an accident. You survived, but it damaged part of your brain permanently. When you go to sleep, you lose all of your memories."
He lets that sink in for a moment. "Oh."
"Take your time, all right?" Subaru gives that smile again, then shuffles out of bed. "I'm gonna get freshened up."
The apartment is as unfamiliar to him as everything else is, but as Hokuto makes his way to the bathroom, he finds colourful star-shaped notes stuck up on the walls in bubbly handwriting, polaroid pictures taped together with small captions.
This is your cup!
This is your side of the wardrobe.
These are our friends! The blonde one is Ukki! The redhead is Sari! And the brunette is Anzu!
Taped to the last one is a picture of five people, widely smiling at the camera. There's a younger-looking version of himself, and a younger-looking version of Subaru. They look happy, Hokuto thinks, barely even recognising the smile on his own face. And Subaru looks happy, carefree and laughing, in almost every picture.
Hokuto stops at another picture — a faded family photo of a child being held by his mother and father, a smiling grandmother.
That's your family.
Memories that Hokuto will never remember.
"Hey," Subaru calls, stopping carefully at the doorframe of the bathroom, "when you finish brushing your teeth, come to the kitchen, 'kay? I'll make breakfast."
Hokuto wonders where that carefree smile had gone.
The kitchen area has a board on the fridge with the same star-shaped notes tacked on; shopping lists and phone numbers, and one singular photo. Hokuto picks it up — it's worn and a little stained, clearly picked up and held many times. In it, a little version of himself is smiling, leaning down to kiss a little version of Subaru against a backdrop of stars.
On the back, there's the date — ten years ago, if the calendar below the clock is correct, and a faded line of words.
First date with Hokke!
He glances over at Subaru, his back to Hokuto and humming as he fries eggs on a pan. In the morning sunlight of the kitchen, he looks so natural in the vibrance of this colourful house of memories. His eyes catch on another picture on the wall, and in this one he's kissing Subaru; the one beside is a shot of them gazing happily at each other, taken seconds apart.
Lovers. They had been lovers.
Hokuto looks back at the pictures, feeling something twist in his stomach.
"Um—" He stops, a little unsure. Would lovers use first names?
"Ah, you found that picture." Subaru sets out two plates of eggs and toast on the table, then a mug of coffee. His smile, too, is somewhat soft and muted and sad, not truly reaching his eyes. It's so unlike the smile in the pictures on the walls, and Hokuto wonders why he doesn't smile wide and unabashed like that any more. "Do you want to know more? Sometimes you don't, and that's fine."
"What did I call you by?"
Subaru looks a little surprised as he walks to stand beside Hokuto, picking the photo from the wall. "We never got to the point of using first names for each other." He taps the one in Hokuto's hands. "Sometimes you get touchy when I call you Hokke. Before we started dating, you didn't like it a lot."
"Akehoshi," Hokuto mumbles, testing the name on his tongue. "Subaru." He likes it. "Subaru."
"Use whatever you like," Subaru says, sounding a little excited. When Hokuto looks up at him, there's a little sparkle in his eye. "Can I still call you Hokke? Or Hokuto? Unless you—"
"Hokke is fine," Hokuto blurts out quickly, before he can regret it, and Subaru's eyes widen and he smiles, really smiles, bright and wide. Subaru's thumb brushes his cheek, gently tilting Hokuto's face towards his. "Subaru?"
"Ah—" He pulls away quickly, flush rising to his cheeks. "Sorry. Old habit."
Hokuto looks down at the picture in his hands.
Someone who takes care of him every day, even though he forgets every morning. Someone who carefully explains, every morning, the cause of his memory loss. Someone who makes him breakfast and retells a story of how he'd loved someone that had been Hokuto.
He looks at the pictures, each taped on the wall with love and care, thinks about the messages on the bathroom wall and the closet and the corridor.
Hokuto wonders if he's been cursed or blessed to have Akehoshi Subaru.
"If you wanted to kiss me, it's all right." When Subaru stays silent, Hokuto presses on. "I think I understand now."
"Understand what?"
Hokuto smiles. "Why I fell in love with you."
And when Subaru kisses him, it tastes like tears. Like eggs on toast with coffee, and like home.
(Hokuto feels his eyes brim with silent tears too, because Subaru going through a hundred thousand days of his lover not even remembering their name sends pain shooting through Hokuto's chest.)
"There's one good thing about forgetting," Subaru whispers when he pulls away, smile playing at his lips, "and it's that I get to have our first kiss again and again."
Eventually, Subaru reminds Hokuto of the forgotten breakfast and they sit, smiling over now-cold eggs and slightly soggy toast, and somehow it feels like they've been in love far longer than the thirty-four minutes it's been since he'd woken up.
"If you're feeling up to it, I'll drop you off at Ukki's job when I gotta go to work," he's saying, "and— ah! You saw the picture in the corridor, right? Ukki's the tall and blonde one, with the sparkly glasses!"
Subaru chatters through breakfast. Hokuto gets the sense that he'd been holding back earlier, with the muted smile and careful distance, the way he'd pulled back. Now, he seems naturally brighter, happier.
"Do I usually..." (And sometimes it is strange, not knowing the Hokuto of yesterday after all,) "...not act like this?"
"Only on good days," Subaru chirps, and gives Hokuto a dazzling smile. "Good days are when I get to kiss you!"
Today, then, by Subaru's standards, must be a really good day.
The sound of his laughter is strikingly contagious. It's a pretty sound, ringing clear in the crisp morning air, and when Hokuto glances over at him, his blue eyes sparkle with something that he dearly suspects is adoration.
"Subaru," he calls, feeling his heart fill with something light and fizzy as Subaru dances in the sunlight, "don't run too far ahead."
"That's so Hokke of you, Hokke!" He stops, then, waiting for Hokuto to catch up, sheepish smile tinging his cheeks with pink. They walk the rest of the way with fingers interlaced.
(Sincere honesty. Bright happiness. Gentle adoration.
It's no wonder he'd fallen for Subaru. A boy like sunshine, carefree like the summer breeze; someone so easy to love that Hokuto yearns, yearns to know what he's forgotten. How did he fall for Subaru the first time? How did Subaru fall in love with him?)
"We're here," Subaru announces, cutting off Hokuto's thoughts by abruptly throwing open the double doors of a modest-looking building without a further warning. Hokuto barely has time to be surprised before Subaru is grabbing his hand and pulling him through, smiling. "Coming through!"
"Subaru-kun," someone sighs, and Subaru perks.
"Ukki!"
The man sighs, combing a hand through his blond hair. "Don't scare me like that!"
Subaru seems to regain his senses a little, squeezing Hokuto's hand. "Hokke, this is Ukki!"
"Well, um, the name's Yuuki Makoto," the blonde says, giving a shy little wave. "I've met you lots of times before, so no need to introduce yourself."
"Anyway, Hokke," Subaru continues, "Ukki will explain everything, so I'm leaving you in his capable hands!"
"And you...?"
"I gotta go to work!" The phrase is accompanied by a gentle kiss to the corner of Hokuto's mouth and an even gentler smile. "Sorry about that. I'll see you tonight, though, 'kay? Love you, Hokke."
"I haven't seen Subaru-kun so happy in a while," Makoto muses quietly as they sit for lunch. "What did you do to him?"
"He got happier after he—" Hokuto feels his cheeks flush as he remembers the gentle kisses they'd shared, warm and languid and lazy. "...After he kissed me."
"So early in the morning?"
"Is that not...?"
"Subaru-kun is lucky if he gets to kiss you at all, you know?" Makoto smiles, a little sadly. "And, well, there's a few more things. You calling him Subaru, and him calling you Hokke, for one. It's just like how you were before everything happened."
Now at this, Hokuto perks. "Tell me more about... before."
Makoto slides out his phone, opening it to a picture of four figures wearing blue and red. "We used to be idols, see? It was Subaru-kun's dream to be an idol."
Subaru grins brightly up at the camera, arm slung around Hokuto's shoulder. And Hokuto just knows that he belongs on that stage, the spotlight shining on him. There's a video, too — Hokuto clicks it with shaking hands as tinny music fills the little room.
Stray grains of light
"It's here that we'll definitely shine"
That day in the dark, empty night sky
We shone brilliantly
"And what about now?" His voice comes out as a whisper.
"Subaru-kun couldn't keep it up after the accident. Eventually... we all just agreed to quit. Trickstar — that's what we called our unit — wasn't really Trickstar without you." There's a heavy silence as Makoto fretfully runs a hand through his hair. "That was a bad time in all of our lives, but for him most of all. That's why, when he's happy like this... it means a lot to us."
"I think," Hokuto says, quietly, thinking about the sound of his voice, "I think I love Subaru."
"Ukki! Hokke!" Subaru's voice blasts through the speaker, all bubbly and excited. "Let's go to Sari's for dinner!"
"Mao-kun runs a ramen joint downtown," Makoto explains helpfully as he drives. "Subaru-kun, I'll have to pick up Anzu-chan from work before coming back to your place at about seven, all right?"
"That'd be awesome," Subaru chirps, and Makoto smiles. "Hokke, you still here?"
"Yes?"
"The keys are in the front pocket of your bag! You can make yourself at home until I get home from work, 'kay? You can take a shower if you want, or change into some nice clothes. Sometimes you like writing in your journal— ah, there's a note on the desk in our room if you want to find that! I don't go through it, so don't worry 'bout it."
Hokuto blinks. It's a lot of information to take in. "Okay."
"Also, if you want anything, just send me a text or call me! I'll see you soon! Love you!"
And with that, Subaru hangs up, and Makoto stifles a laugh. "It's really been a while since he's been this upbeat."
Even Hokuto feels a little smile tugging at his lips as he watches the streets fly past.
Makoto drops him off outside the apartment block with a wave, and Hokuto fishes around for the keys to let himself in. The house still smells a little like breakfast, so Hokuto puts away the dried dishes before wandering into the corridor, where taped pictures and memories cover the walls. Even without Subaru, the house still seems vibrant and homely; all glittery stars stuck around photo frames with coloured tape and stacks of notepads, warm lightbulbs and carpet soft against bare feet.
It's open and warm and inviting. A home of memories.
Eventually, Hokuto decides to take a shower, decidedly following the helpful note on the shower door telling him to wash his hair if he's having a better day. He's letting the hot water run over his body, splashing and pooling on the tile, when he catches his reflection in the foggy mirror.
He's not sure what to think of himself. His limbs are thin, not so thin that his pale skin sticks to the bone, but enough to place himself as underweight; here and there he catches white swatches that he assumes are scars — one long one down his arm, some across his chest and arms. Perhaps he doesn't eat much on worse days, he thinks, reaching for the bottle of shampoo.
When he presses fingers into his scalp, he feels it — disfiguration here and there. Subaru hadn't explained much about the accident earlier, and from the lurch in Hokuto's stomach as he massages the shampoo into his hair, he's a little glad that he hadn't said much more. Quickly, he rinses away the suds and finishes up.
If it starts hurting even a little, it's really important to turn the blow dryer off and let your head rest! reads the little note on the blow dryer.
Hokuto turns it on.
Subaru still isn't home when Hokuto steps out of the bathroom. He makes his way to the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him.
It's a modest bedroom, the walls painted creamy-white, but unlike the rest of the house, there are barely any pictures on the walls. There's the wardrobe in the corner, opposite a desk by the window, the dim colours of sunset seeping in.
A jacket slung over the edge of the desk chair catches Hokuto's eye. Salmon pink, worn around the sleeves; when Hokuto picks it up, the fabric feels as if it's been worn thin under his fingers.
Somehow, the jacket is so, so strangely familiar.
Before he can regret it, he slips into it, feeling the fabric soft against his skin. It's comfortable. But for some strange, inexplicable reason, it brings a twisting feeling in his stomach; a melancholy sadness that washes over him as he stares at his reflection in the mirror.
Then, from outside, a bright voice calls, "I'm home!"
Hokuto hurries to the door, but Subaru opens it just as he's reaching for the doorknob, and—
"That's my jacket, isn't it?" He's smiling, blushing cheeks hidden behind a bunch of blue flowers. "Here! I bought you flowers!"
Forget-me-nots.
"Hey," Subaru whispers, "Hokke?"
He's leaning down to kiss Subaru before the tears hit the ground.
"Wait, a little closer—"
"Subaru—"
"I want it to be perfect, okay? I'm running out of polaroids. Now lean in..."
"...Are you taking it? The flowers are tickling my nose."
"I'm trying! To click the button!"
"Here, I'll hold it for you."
"..."
"..."
"Oh... look, it's perfect, Hokke!"
"Mm. Can I...?"
"...Mm. Go ahead!"
"Sari!"
"Geez, Subaru, you never change," the man at the counter says, waving them over to the bar. "Over here, I saved you guys seats."
Subaru offers the end seat to Hokuto, then takes the seat beside his. Makoto and Anzu — the girl who had, apparently, produced their unit when they'd still been idols, and now Makoto's girlfriend — arrange themselves on the other two seats.
"Hey there," a voice greets from above, and Hokuto looks up to see the man from before. "The name's Isara Mao. Hopefully these guys aren't causing you too much trouble, hm?"
"You say that all the time, Mao," Anzu sighs from across the bar, "and quit glaring at me like that."
"You're the one who drinks all my beer and then complains about me not having more," Mao retorts. "Anyway, Hokuto, did you really leave the house looking like that?"
Hokuto blinks, slowly, tugging at the sleeves of the jacket. "Is there something wrong with this jacket? Subaru told me to keep wearing it."
Makoto chuckles. "Pink really isn't your colour."
"That's the jacket Subaru used to wear in high school," Anzu adds, grinning gleefully. "And yeah, what Makoto said."
"Hold on a second," Mao cuts in with a teasing smile, pointing a finger at Hokuto, then at Subaru. "Did I just hear you call him Subaru?"
"Sari, please let me have this," Subaru wails, to everyone's amusement.
"All right, all right." A mug of beer appears in front of Subaru, another a second later in front of Anzu. "Subaru's is on the house. Anzu, you're paying for all of your drinks y'hear? I'll grab a soda for Makoto from the fridge. And you, Hokuto?"
"Something sweet," Hokuto finds himself saying with a smile, because the way his insides fizzle and bubble as he takes Subaru's hand feels exactly like a soda pop.
"Hokke," Subaru giggles, "you're sooooo pretty."
"And you're drunk," Hokuto sighs, tugging him by the hand. Subaru smiles and does a little twirl, bumping into Hokuto's side with a laugh.
"I only had two mugs of beer," he argues, a twinkling in his eyes as he grasps on to Hokuto's hand anyway, flushed face upturned towards the night sky. "So just a li'l tipsy. And 'm really, really happy!"
(Funny, Hokuto thinks, how Subaru makes it possible fit ten years' worth of love into one day. It really seems like he's loved Subaru for so much longer, even before he'd woken up to blue eyes and warmth — with how he smiles, with how he makes loving him seem easy.
Subaru is someone who lights up a world with sunshine, who pulls others into his orbit, who loves with his whole honest heart.
Hokuto watches him laugh and falls.)
"Let's go home," Hokuto whispers against Subaru's lips as they kiss, lit by the colours of the nightscape, "Subaru."
They tumble into the dim apartment panting and out of breath, cheeks flushed and ruddy from running. Subaru is laughing, lips pressing messily to lips even before Hokuto can slip off his shoes, missing his mark and catching cheeks and noses.
Tongue licks into Hokuto's mouth, and oh, this is different to the sweet, innocent, loving kisses from before. It's dizzying, tingling and fizzing all through his body; burning and much less innocent.
"Bedroom," Subaru breathes when they break apart. He's grabbing Hokuto's hand, shoes still piled in the entranceway, and then they're sinking into blankets and kissing again with the same burning intensity.
"Hokke," he whispers, then, gentler, "Hokuto."
Hokuto stares up at him, all of him in the dim moonlight. His body feels light, breath coming short as he replies, "Subaru."
"Hokuto, I want—" Subaru leans down, blue eyes wide and round, "I want you."
"I want you, too."
The smile spreads wide and beautiful over Subaru's cheeks, and all of a sudden he's dipping into another kiss, long and slow. Hands slip under the thin jacket, easing it off Hokuto's shoulders; then under his shirt, brushing against skin. Subaru pulls back, every time, questions in his eyes as he tugs the fabric up and over Hokuto's shoulders and then aside; his own following a moment later.
"Are you sure you want this?"
Hokuto breathes his reply as he reaches for Subaru, lips ghosting against burning skin, fingers exploring, pressing into the dips of Subaru's body, memorising. "Yes."
There's the barest hint of muscle in his body, mostly in his legs. He's not perfect, and clearly, neither is Hokuto, but he wants to know all of it anyway, tracing the curve of his hips and the dips of his stomach, the planes of his arms as they gently encircle Hokuto's body.
Subaru reaches over to the bedside table when Hokuto finishes mapping his body, flicking on the lamp and carding through the top drawer. He's reaching to tuck his findings behind the pillow when Hokuto catches it — faint lines on his wrists, almost invisible to the eye.
"Your wrists," Hokuto says, quietly, when Subaru pauses. "You..."
For a moment, the air seems to still, and Subaru smiles with a foreign sadness, all too reminiscent of that morning. "It wasn't a good time in my life. That was when I thought I lost you." He sighs, quietly, dipping down to press his face into Hokuto's shoulder. "I don't do it any more. I promise."
Hokuto kisses the crown of his head softly, running fingers through sunset strands, hums.
"I love you," he breathes, and Subaru's head snaps up. "All of you."
All of your imperfections.
"I love you too, Hokke." It's so gentle, and Subaru smiles as he presses their lips together again. "I love you so much."
The sweetness melts away when a tongue begins to question at Hokuto's lips, and he opens to let Subaru in, warmth fizzing and bursting on bare skin. Subaru drops his hips slowly, easing flush against him, rocking with a meek clumsiness. It's all fluid and gentle, quiet kisses and soft breaths; each melting into the next.
Subaru is the one who gasps first, hips rolling faster. Little open-mouthed kisses snake their way down Hokuto's neck as he ruts, angling his hips and then Hokuto's groaning too; little sparks of pleasure blooming up his spine. He can feel Subaru, warm and hot even through fabric, and gasps again as he rocks into that spot.
"Hokke," Subaru murmurs, and then he's drawing back, hands hooking into the band of Hokuto's underwear. Hokuto sees the way his flush rolls down his neck, the way his chest heaves with every breath. "Can I— can I take this off?"
It's so strangely intimate. Hokuto nods, feeling an unfamiliar warmth flooding to his cheeks; bringing a hand to his face to mask the pink that's surely bloomed to his ears.
As if sensing his embarrassment, Subaru noses away the hand and leaves gentle kisses around his lips, and Hokuto barely feels Subaru's hands on his hips until he's throwing the fabric aside. Without stopping, he reaches under the pillow for a bottle, then eases Hokuto's thighs apart gently.
"This might sting a bit," he warns, "'cause we haven't done this for a really long time."
Subaru slowly eases him open with quiet praise and more kisses, whispers of "you're doing so good" and "just a little more", and Hokuto melts into his touch. With his other hand, he idly strokes Hokuto until mumbled moans spill from his lips. Subaru makes it so easy with his gentle touches and sweet reassurances; even the pain of stretching numbed by melting kisses and his firm strokes.
"It's not the first time we've done this," comes the little laugh when Subaru hits a spot that sends sparks flying through Hokuto's body with ease. "You're doing so well, Hokke."
Finally, Subaru slips his fingers out and reaches under the pillows again, returning with a packet and the bottle of lubricant.
"Gonna put it in, 'kay?" He smiles as Hokuto nods. "Tell me if it hurts?"
Subaru is nothing but gentle, easing in slowly; little warm reassuring kisses fluttering over skin. He begins to thrust in, slow and steady and stable, stealing gasps and moans from Hokuto's lips. It's not long until breaths hitch and hips stutter; kisses growing messy with heat. Subaru's body is hot to touch, so Hokuto tangles fingers into his hair and pulls him closer, feeling him press deep inside with quiet gasps and low murmurs, stroking and caressing and loving.
They come together, quiet and soundless, to the feeling of breaths and heartbeats in tandem. It's warm in the aftermath, all soothing and tender; bathing in the feeling of not wanting to leave the moment just yet.
Quietly, Hokuto opens his eyes. "Subaru?"
"Mm?"
As he glances over at the glass of forget-me-nots, at the freshly-taken picture of them smiling tacked above it, Hokuto realises that he wants, so desperately wants to never forget this day.
"I don't want to forget any more."
Subaru hums, and when he lifts his head, his eyes are brimming with tears. "I've wanted that for five years."
If falling asleep is what triggers his memory loss, then, Hokuto supposes, all he has to do is not fall asleep.
He also supposes that it's easier said than done. Subaru's tousled orange curls drop onto his shoulder halfway through their horror game playthrough video binge, so Hokuto tucks him into bed with a kiss and a promise. He looks peaceful, soundly asleep and smile playing on his dreaming lips.
His eyes flicker to the desk, the words from earlier fluttering back:
"Sometimes you like writing in your journal— ah, there's a note on the desk in our room if you want to find that!"
It's going to be a long night.
At seven in the morning, several journals, recommended YouTube playlists and facefuls of cold water later, Hokuto lets himself into the kitchen, fighting back a yawn, and realises his grave mistake.
It's Saturday.
Regardless, he trudges over to the coffee machine anyway, before realising that he has absolutely no idea how to use it. There are handles and levers and Hokuto almost burns himself on a spout that shoots hot steam onto his hand before he decidedly gives up, coffee-less, and returns to the bedroom.
Subaru is sitting up on the bed, clothes creased and hair all ruffled when Hokuto enters, and he feels the slightest bursting of happiness in his chest when he remembers, recalling how Subaru had smiled and gently made love to him in the darkness of the night before. He looks surprised, but it melts into a laugh as Hokuto crosses the room and gently captures his lips; pulling away to the softest, brightest smile, like the sunrise spilling in from the curtains.
"Good morning, Subaru."
And he beams, and replies, "'Morning, Hokke."
"I can't believe you tried to use the coffee machine," Subaru laughs as he sets a steaming mug on the table. "Here. You like your coffee sweet."
And really, Subaru is the blessing Hokuto hadn't knew he needed.
"And you really stayed up the entire night so you could wake me up like this?"
"Mm." He smiles, takes a sip of his coffee. It's sweet. Perfect. "Sorry for waking you up so early on a Saturday morning after those horror games from last night."
But, Hokuto knows, as Subaru giggles and waves it off, that this sort of morning is something he likes. He wants to wake up to this laugh and perfectly sweetened coffee, to guess if it's tamagoyaki or fried eggs for breakfast, to remember what had happened yesterday or last week or even last year.
"Is there anything we usually do on Saturdays?"
Subaru thinks for a moment. "How about we visit your grandma?"
"It's your favourite tea," she says with a gentle smile, setting the tea set on the table with a jar of colourful sweets. "And konpeito."
This part of the house is old; a traditional-styled building hidden in the shadow of the larger mansion in front. The tatami is worn with use, comfortably lived in, and Hokuto sees it in the patchwork of washi on the sliding doors, the tea stains beside the low kotatsu, even the old wind chimes tinkling over the doorway.
"Do you remember this house?"
Hokuto lowers his head, a little in shame. "I'm sorry."
He's sure that if he did, perhaps the guilt gnawing at the pit of his stomach wouldn't hurt so much. Subaru had already told him earlier on the bus ride about how much he'd loved his grandmother, how he wouldn't have been Hokuto without her.
But she only smiles with a gentle, unconditional love, and Hokuto feels his heart break for her.
"Hokke," Subaru whispers, then again, a little more urgently, "Hokke, don't fall asleep on me."
Hokuto hums. His eyes, tired from crying, ache to shut.
"I don't want to let you go just yet," Subaru continues, a hand stroking Hokuto's hair. "I want to spend so much more time with you like this, Hokke."
"I don't want to forget," Hokuto replies, quietly, and it hurts, knowing that he'll have to forget when he next wakes up. "Subaru?"
"Hokuto." He laughs, but it's pained and sad and choked with tears. "You're just like how you were before— before then, you know? And I'm really happy that I got to spend two days with you, so please don't fall asleep just yet."
Hokuto yawns, again, catching himself just as his eyes flutter shut. Subaru's body is warm, and he wonders what it'd be like to fall asleep curled beside him, to wake up in his arms to kisses and calls of "good morning".
It'd be nice, he thinks...
Really... nice.
"...Hokke," Subaru says again, and Hokuto can't even muster the energy to reply — his eyes ache for rest, and he's so tired, so just for one...
One moment...
(The last thing he hears is the softest, gentlest whisper, brimming with affection; "I love you".)
He wakes up slowly, opening his eyes to afternoon sun lazily showering the room in orange rays.
The room is barren and unfamiliar, but he knows somehow, that this is his room. Impulsively, he searches the cream-coloured walls — and there, just beside the doorframe, is a little dent. He isn't sure why it's there, but there's a sense of certainty in just knowing that it's there.
Strange, he thinks.
Yet, there is a sense of comfort in this room, even as he glances down at his hands, at the unfamiliar clothing he's wearing, and asks himself,
Who am I?
He thinks to search around the room for clues — anything that tells him why he's woken up in an unfamiliar room, without knowing who he is, without any memory at all — and his eyes land on a small mirror on the desk.
The man in the mirror has blue eyes, eyes that remind him of something — and the words glass, flowers, picture flash through his mind unwarranted, but inconclusive. His hair is a little unkempt, falling over his eyes and getting long down his neck; a deep, deep shade of blue.
Still, he knows this image as himself.
He turns to the door next, and feels a compelling urge to open, even though he knows he hasn't gone through much else of the room for clues. So he opens, steps into a corridor that is just as familiar as it is unfamiliar.
Empty.
He walks, tentative steps at first, past rows of doors and open rooms and down a set of steps, not truly knowing but already knowing where his feet are taking him, and then stops just outside a doorway. He knows this room — this is the kitchen, with the smell of fresh herbs and vegetables stewing.
There is an old lady at the stove. And he knows, from the curve of her back and the old worn cardigan over her shoulders and the song she hums as she stirs.
"Grandma?"
"Ah, you're awake." She smiles, gently, then gestures towards a glass door by the side. "He's outside, go find him."
"Who?" he's asking, but then she's pushing the door open and ushering him outside without a further explanation. "Wait," he wants to say, but then his breath is stolen and the world slows to a standstill.
Set in the sunlight, almost glowing; right in front of him stands the most beautiful person he's ever seen.
Their hair; coloured like the sunset. Their eyes, bright like the summer sky. Their smile, radiant like the stars shining at night. He knows like this: the feeling of sunset locks against his fingers, the gentle gaze of their eyes, the taste of their kiss against his lips; the blooming of something that just seems natural in his heart.
...Love?
He takes a step forward, then another, then bare feet are sinking into dirt and he's stumbling up to them, and he knows, as his hand reaches out for their cheek, the name just on the tip of his tongue is theirs.
"Subaru?"
And Subaru smiles, bright and beautiful, and he just knows it's right.