“I want to stay with you,” Kantarou says. The aftermath of sex has left him flushed, looking absurdly young. Under Haruka’s palm, his heartbeat is finally beginning to slow. “Is that all right?”
Haruka shrugs as best he can, propped on one elbow. He feels lazy and a bit indulgent: he’s proud of the red marks he’s left on Kantarou’s throat. “Fine,” he says. “I can’t stop you.”
“You could,” Kantarou says. “But I’m glad. I like being with you, Haruka.” His smile is one that Haruka has never seen before, warm and dangerous.
“Ah,” says Haruka. “Go to sleep.”
“I don’t want to go,” Kantarou whispers. “I’m afraid.”
Youko presses his hand between both of hers and weeps; Haruka only stares, his mind a roaring blank. The room is suffocating, but he’s afraid to leave.
It’ll only be a little longer.
“I release both of you from your names,” Kantarou adds. “Thank you for staying with me all these years.” He tries to smile. It fails. “Remember me?”
Haruka takes his thin wrist and pulls the bracelet from it, sliding it into his own. As the bells shiver, he says, “Fine.”
Kantarou smiles and closes his eyes. “Thank you.”