The Story of Our Feelings

The Chinese quarter was excessively noisy—at least, that's how it seemed to Alan, who'd hardly ventured outside in recent months. Crowds of people belonging to both nationalities were bustling about, but at a glance, it was impossible to tell them apart, creating the illusion of a peaceful coexistence between the war's victors and the vanquished. As long as they kept to himself, no one paid the Japanese any mind. Having reached the necessary street, located not far from Meijiu's estate, Alan got out of the taxi and continued on foot. He moved slowly, as much as his still not entirely healthy legs would allow, and curiously looked around, examining the Chinese-style buildings, numerous shops overflowing with various goods, and the people who were crowding around and chatting animatedly in Chinese. Unfortunately, Alan still couldn't understand a word of the language, despite having spent a year in China and interacting closely with some Chinese people. I'm so useless, Yuki, he bitterly chuckled to himself. You were able to learn my language, but I haven't been able to learn yours. Then he turned down a narrow alleyway, and at that very moment, a shadowy figure flashed past at the opposite end. A second later, Alan realized what it was—Xiaolan, jumping down from the roof of the house where she had been hiding in wait. The girl quickly approached him, and he waved to her with a wide smile on his face. “Hey shorty! How are you doing?” Xiaolan's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at the word ‘shorty’—so much so that her usual grumpy expression almost seemed like a friendly smile. The corners of Alan's lips twitched nervously, and he took a step back. “Just don't hit me for that, okay? Don't hurt the sick one.” Xiaolan just rolled her eyes, as if to say, "Who would do something like that?" Then she glanced at Alan's legs, looked him in the face, and shook her head disapprovingly. “Don't worry,” Alan guessed her thoughts, “I took a taxi here. I just decided to take a little walk, I need to exercise. I've been sitting at home all the time.” Doubt still lingered in Xiaolan's eyes, but she waved her hand, as if accepting his answer. She turned around and led Alan towards the building he was heading to. There, they were supposed to meet Meijiu—at his restaurant, where he usually hosted distinguished guests. As soon as Alan entered the room with Xiaolan, he heard Meijiu's voice. Standing at the entrance, surrounded by several subordinates, Meijiu had his back to the newcomers and was apparently giving orders in Chinese, as the members of the Golden Dragon responded to his words with brief replies or nods of agreement. Upon noticing Alan, they smiled and began to say something in which he could only make out his own name. Meijiu turned around and also smiled at him with an unusually soft expression. “Welcome, Alan.” Having finally handed over all his business to his subordinates, Meijiu left the restaurant and joined those who had come for him. The three of them got into a car parked nearby and headed to Meijiu's home. “How are you, Alan?” he asked, glancing back at the backseat where Alan and Xiaolan were sitting. “Are you feeling alright? Weren't you too tired from the trip here?” “Not at all, brother,” Alan replied, beaming. “Everything's fine, I feel more alive than ever.” “That's good,” Meijiu said, satisfied, “because we have a long day ahead of us. I won't let you go until we've done everything we planned.” “Wow, you've got a whole program planned? You didn't mention that.” A slight tension crept into Alan's previously cheerful voice, almost against his will. He remembered promising Keith that he would be home early, but now it seemed he didn't know himself how long this would all take. “That's a little surprise from me,” Meijiu replied, and in the rearview mirror Alan saw the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. “I promise you'll have a great time, yes.” Xiaolan leaned forward in her seat and whispered something in his ear. Meijiu's face instantly clouded over. “Alan, didn't I tell you not to overdo it? Why did you walk the whole street?” “Come on, it was only a few dozen meters,” Alan shrugged. “I wanted to look around, see the people.” Meijiu gave a meaningful hum and after a brief pause asked, “So, what do you think? Has much changed compared to what you remember?” “It’s hard to say… It’s not like I used to come here often, but…” Alan paused for a moment, then finally said the only thing that occurred to him, “it seems like the crowds have gotten even bigger. But maybe I’m just out of practice with city life, and it’s always been this way.” “You're almost always at home, aren't you? You probably haven't seen what District 23 looks like now.” “Oh, what's it like?” Alan was immediately curious. “Has it changed a lot?” “You have no idea. Madame Jeanne's hard work is already paying off.” The mention of that name caused a strange flutter in Alan's chest. He had lived in a vacuum for so long, cut off from society, and now he suddenly remembered what had happened to him before and what it had all been for. That's right, Madame Rose had stepped down, making way for Jeanne, the heiress of old Amakava who was well-known in this district. She must have faced countless difficulties while trying to fix everything the consigliere had ruined during his year of leadership, but it seemed she was coping quite well. Alan couldn’t help but wonder how much Primavera has changed? And could there still be a place for him there? However, he wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do next. But one thing he knew for certain: he didn't want to abandon that dream. No matter what it took, he would gladly work to make things better for their people, to build a brighter future for them, to restore the good name of the Japanese, and to bring peace to all three nations living on the same territory. This was what Primavera had always strived for, and... what Yuki had desired. Everything at Meijiu's place was just as he remembered. Alan had been here before—it was where he'd stayed when he returned from China, and before that, a year ago, he had visited with Yuki. Memories of her came flooding back as soon as he crossed the threshold, but Meijiu quickly brought him out of his reverie, following him inside and giving him a gentle push. “Go into the living room and make yourself comfortable. I'll have someone bring us something. By the way, how about a drink?” “Oh, no, no, that's not necessary,” Alan quickly declined. “Let's just have some tea.” “As you wish,” Meijiu smiled and then disappeared into the house. As instructed, Alan went into the living room and settled into one of the soft, comfortable armchairs. It was then that he realized his feet were quite tired from all the walking. He regretted having walked so far down that street earlier. He would have to try to hide it from Meijiu. And he couldn't tell Keith either, or he would scold him again. “Listen, brother,” Alan said to Meijiu as soon as he entered the room, “regarding what you have planned for today... I agree to everything, but we'll just need to finish by ten o'clock. Well, actually, we should finish even earlier, because I need to be home by then.” “And what will happen at ten o'clock?” Meijiu asked with a smile, sitting down in the chair opposite. Alan hesitated for a moment, then said uncertainly, “I... I promised Keith I'd be back by ten.” The smile immediately vanished from Meijiu's face. His lips twitched, and soon a sneer formed, clearly tinged with contempt. “Your friend can't seem to go without you? You two are together all the time. Isn't it time you took a break from each other?” “Of course he can manage without me,” Alan sighed. “It's not about that. We... just had a deal. He'll be expecting me.” “I don't see the problem,” Meijiu snorted, looking displeased. “You can just call him from here and tell him your plans have changed.” Alan awkwardly averted his gaze. He couldn't possibly tell Meijiu that Keith was afraid to sleep alone because he was constantly tormented by nightmares in the past. He couldn't bring himself to reveal that for Keith's peace of mind, they were sharing a room and even a bed. The subject felt too personal, something that should remain between the two of them, and Keith would undoubtedly feel the same. Besides, even if he knew, Meijiu would probably not sympathize with Keith; instead, he would likely consider it the punishment Keith deserved. “Let's not stay out too late,” Alan suggested nervously, glancing at Meijiu. “I don't think I'm feeling well enough to party until the wee hours.” The other man fixed him with a sullen glare, his eyes then darting to the corner of the room. Through gritted teeth, he replied, “Fine.” “Please, don't be upset,” Alan tried to offer a reassuring smile, hoping to ease the tension between them. “We still have plenty of time before then, we'll get everything done. By the way,” he tried to change the subject casually, “where did shorty go? She was with us in the car, but she's vanished somewhere around here.” Meijiu's face finally softened into a pleasant smile. “Xiaolan has some other things to do,” he explained. “I gave her a task... well, you don't need to know the details.” “Got it,” Alan replied quickly, grinning from ear to ear. “I don't need to know your secrets.” Soon, refreshments were brought into the room, and the two of them continued their peaceful conversation. Alan, having been cooped up for so long, didn't have much to share, so he mostly asked questions while Meijiu filled him in on the latest news. It was all about the changes in the district under the new Primavera leadership, and about the organization itself, which was going through a tough time. They still hadn't fully recovered from the losses they suffered in the battle between Richard and Rose's factions, in other words, they were seriously short-staffed. Mentioning this, Meijiu noted that Alan would be more than welcome to rejoin Primavera if he wanted to. “I had a chance to talk to Madame Jeanne recently,” Meijiu continued with a satisfied tone. “And in passing, I mentioned you to her. I told her you were recovering and would be back on your feet soon. She said she’d always be happy to see you and that there would definitely be a place for you.” “Not bad,” Alan replied, giving a slightly forced smile. Oddly enough, just half an hour ago, sitting in the car on the way here, he'd been wondering if he might return to Primavera. He'd thought he'd want it, but this news didn't fill him with much enthusiasm. Meijiu noticed it as well and asked, “Aren't you happy? Don't you want to do this anymore?” “Well, I am, it's just... um,” Alan hesitated, unsure what to say. “I'm not sure when I'll be well enough to actually do the job.” “Didn't you say you were almost back to normal? And besides, no one's expecting you to rush. Whenever you're ready, they'll be waiting for you.” Alan just hemmed and scratched his chin, looking away. After a pause, Meijiu asked, “Is there something else holding you back?” “Like what?” Alan smirked with one side of his mouth. He had only one explanation in mind, and Meijiu voiced it immediately. “Like the fact that you don't want to go back to Primavera without your friend,” he said, his voice turning colder again as it did every time he mentioned Keith. “You two used to work as a team, after all.” Alan let out a deep sigh. It was clear he couldn't hide these feelings any longer. “I can't do much on my own. We were at our best together.” “What if you get a new partner?” “It's unlikely anyone could replace Keith,” Alan replied without hesitation, and when Meijiu looked at him in surprise, he quickly added, “I mean, he's a truly gifted marksman. You just don't find many like that.” “As gifted as you say he is,” Meijiu grimaced, and his face again showed too much contempt, “I think there's no turning back for him.” “Most likely.” Alan had to agree, much as he hated to admit it. Keith understood this too, of course. In fact, he was trying to avoid going out at night, even though the nocturnal lifestyle had been his usual routine. He never talked about why, and Alan didn't ask. It was clear enough. Keith was afraid he might run into someone from Primavera, someone who had been there that October day when the two factions clashed and whose comrades he might have killed. Even in daylight, he was probably walking around with a sense of unease. Alan sadly admitted that peace was out of reach for Keith in this district, under any circumstances. “So let me ask, what do you two plan to live on once your money is gone?” “I don't know, we haven't discussed it yet,” Alan paused, pondering the possibilities. “Perhaps we'll have to move and start a new, quiet life somewhere in the countryside. Maybe that would even be better than staying in this hopeless city.” “You honestly believe this is the best option?” Meijiu asked doubtfully. “And... you really think the city is that hopeless? I know there are a lot of problems, but isn't it up to the people who live here to make it better?” “You're right, brother. People need to step up and do something. I'm just talking about running away from our problems. Yuki... she wouldn't approve of this either.” Alan hated feeling so powerless just as much, but no matter how hard he thought, he couldn't come up with a better solution given their current circumstances. Well, there was one option in which he could stay and continue fighting with Primavera, but then… he and Keith would probably part ways forever. “However,” Alan added after a pause, “she definitely wouldn't agree with my method of fighting for the future. So maybe she'll forgive my inaction.” A shadow passed over Meijiu's face. Despite his best efforts to forget that horrifying moment, to present a calm exterior, he still couldn't come to terms with his sister's death. The mere mention of her name was clearly painful. “What do you think,” he trailed off, as if unsure whether he should continue, but finished his question nevertheless, “what would she say about your friendship with Keith now?” Alan gave a wry smile. “Probably... nothing good.” This thought had crossed his mind countless times. In those recurring dreams of Yuki, which visited him almost nightly, she would sometimes look at him with a sorrowful gaze that held a gentle reproach. He instantly understood the meaning behind that look but could only offer a helpless, apologetic smile in response. He believed that he and Meijiu had avenged her when they helped to thwart the major's plans and even to eliminate him. But in reality, everything that man had done didn't absolve the person who had directly killed Yuki. That was why she looked at him that way in his dreams, and why her brother was speaking to him like that now. But... there was nothing Alan could do about it. Meijiu seemed to perk up a bit after his reply, and the next moment, he began to speak more confidently, “Then, maybe…” “Meijiu,” Alan interrupted him, and then, sensing that it sounded too abrupt, softened his tone. “Brother, listen. I know you want to say that I shouldn't be so close to Keith, but... I can't help it. He needs me. He has no one else left... at all. And he wouldn't survive the loneliness. I'm sure he was already on the edge...” Before he could finish, he bit his lip. Keith didn't talk about his troubles, but sometimes his anxieties were all too evident on his face. Alan remembered the first time he'd thought about it, the day he woke up in the hospital and saw his tearful friend sitting beside his bed, his eyes filled with a deep despair just before he realized what was happening. Later, he'd thought about it again, noticing how Keith's gaze would sometimes fix on nothing in particular. Eventually, Alan had learned about his nightmares and was confirmed in his suspicions. Keith didn't want to live; at some point, he'd completely lost sight of any reason to. He had nothing to hold onto, he was tormented by terrible visions both in his dreams and in reality, and he simply didn't have the strength left. Alan had no doubt that Keith would have taken his own life if he'd remained in a coma for any longer. The thought made him shudder inwardly, and his heart overflowed with pity for his unfortunate friend, who, despite all the trials he'd faced, lacked the emotional strength to cope. “That's why... I'll help him,” Alan continued, lowering his gaze. “I know as long as I'm around, he'll be alright.” “That's very noble of you, of course,” Meijiu remarked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “but what about yourself? How do you feel spending so much time with him?” Alan gave a tight-lipped smile. “You're going to be mad at me for this, brother, but... I need him too. You know, I tried to cut him out of my life once. But then, that whole year in China, all I could think about was him and everything we had, and even how it ended... it couldn't tarnish those memories of our past. Now that we've finally sorted everything out, I... I don't want to lose him. He's a really important person in my life.” Having said that, he glanced at Meijiu and saw that his face was clearly twisted in disgust. “I apologize, but when you talk like that, it sounds like you're in love with him.” Alan blinked a few times, then laughed. “Don't joke like that,” he said, still smiling, but a second later his face went from amused to thoughtful. “You know perfectly well who I was in love with.” “I know,” Meijiu sighed. “But given that, it's even more surprising that you feel this way about him.” “How can I explain it?” Alan scratched the back of his head, looking a bit embarrassed. “I love him, but it's a completely different kind of love. He's like family to me, or more like...” “Alright, alright, no need to mince words,” all of a sudden, Meijiu laughed nonchalantly, “I get it. The bond between the two of you really is unbreakable.” Alan was speechless, and the ensuing pause in the conversation was broken before long by Meijiu, who glanced at the wall clock behind Alan. “We've been chatting for so long we've lost track of time, yes,” he said cheerfully. “Time to move on to the next part of our plan for today.” He stood up from the chair and gestured for Alan to do the same. Alan complied, noting to himself that he felt pretty steady on his feet. “Where are we going?” he smiled. “Or is that a secret?” “Definitely,” Meijiu winked, “a secret. But I guarantee you'll like it.”

***

Keith was sitting in his living room, curled up on the sofa with his knees pulled up to his chest. Every now and then, he would glance anxiously at the small clock on the wall, its hands inching closer to five. It was already getting dark outside this time of year, but of course, it wasn't late at all. Alan had promised to be back by ten. Yes, he had promised. He always kept his promises. But he had spent so many hours at Meijiu's place. What if he decided he was better off there? Keith shivered, as if cold, and pulled the sleeves of his warm sweater down to hide his hands as much as possible. Meijiu would surely try to persuade Alan to stay with him and stop seeing his friend who had betrayed him once. He would definitely do that, Keith was certain of it. The most frustrating part was that he couldn't even blame Meijiu. He would have done the same in his place. What if Alan didn't object? He had done every chore he could think of in an attempt to distract himself. The dishes were clean, the floors in all the rooms were scrubbed until they shone, and every surface was dust-free. Perhaps he could cook dinner, but Keith wasn't sure if Alan would need it after hanging out with Meijiu. Keith hadn't thought about cooking for himself, or about the fact that he'd long since skipped lunch. What if… what if… Keith swallowed hard, trying his best to keep himself together. But he couldn't sit still any longer, so he got up from the couch and strode quickly, nervously, to the kitchen. He should probably make something to eat, just in case Alan returned not too late and was hungry. Besides… keeping busy might calm him down a little.

***

“Wow! Meijiu, what's here?” Excited, Alan looked around the underground room of Meijiu's private restaurant, where they had recently returned. At first, he didn't understand what in this place could seem so interesting to him, and involuntarily said this to Meijiu, but now he was ready to take his words back. “This is the secret basement of my restaurant. Only the chosen few get to come down here,” the other man smiled, clearly pleased with the impression he'd made. “You should know that it's a great honor for you to be here, yes.” “Haha, nice to know I'm special.” The basement was a hive of activity. Over a dozen of Meijiu's subordinates had gathered in the spacious room, each busy with their own pursuits. Some were engaged in hand-to-hand combat, while others provided enthusiastic commentary, clearly eager for their turn. Still others simply watched with curious eyes. Alan's eyes lit up. “Is that their kind of training?” “In a way, yes. That's how they improve themselves. Plus, it's a way to have fun and put on a show for others. You enjoy this kind of entertainment too, don't you?” Meijiu smiled at him, and he nodded, not taking his eyes off the spectacle that had unfolded before him. “Absolutely,” his lips curled into a smirk. “I never missed the street fighting festivals”. “Want to join?” “May I?” “You should. That's why we're here. Just,” Meijiu cautioned with a slight frown, “watch yourself. Don't push yourself too hard.” “No need to worry about me, I'm fine,” Alan said, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “Mind introducing me to the guys?” They ventured deeper into the dimly lit room, where several spectators immediately turned their heads. Meijiu addressed them in Chinese, and as far as Alan could gather, introduced him and proposed a duel. The men smirked smugly, and a large man stepped forward. Scanning Alan from head to toe, he responded with arrogant confidence. A smirk played at the corner of Meijiu's mouth. “What did he say?” Alan asked. “He said you look feeble and he could take you down in a heartbeat,” Meijiu replied quietly. “He's got a big head. Hopefully, you’ll help him come back down to earth?” “Oh, so I'm feeble, huh?” Alan sneered, clenching his fists. “Well, I'll show him what Alan Aramaki is made of.” By then, the winners of the previous battles had just been decided. Although there were already many who wanted to fight next, everyone willingly yielded their turn to Alan and his opponent. Perhaps it was out of respect for Meijiu, who had brought him here, or maybe they were simply eager to see with their own eyes the legendary street fighter of Tokyo's District 23 in action. Some cheered Alan on, while others rallied behind their companion. The two of them boldly stepped forward to meet each other, and the fight was on. Time flew by unnoticed. The opponents and spectators were constantly changing, and to Alan's surprise, he discovered that watching others fight could also be exciting. He even struck up conversations with some of the Chinese fighters who understood Japanese and could answer him. They were exceptionally friendly towards him, though they didn't hold back in the fight, and Alan once again thought that the Chinese were amazing people. Meijiu joined in on the conversations, behaving in a completely relaxed and uninhibited manner. Perhaps it was for the first time in a long while that he forgot about his role as a leader and all serious matters. Alan was happy to see him like this. They couldn't see the dusk thickening outside the basement, but eventually, everyone felt that a lot of time had passed and decided to leave. Alan approached Meijiu to say goodbye when suddenly a strong hand clapped him on the back and then rested on his shoulder. “Hey Alan, where you headed?” one of his recent opponents called out in quite distinct Japanese, yet his Chinese accent was pretty thick. “We're going for a drink, you in?” “Who's 'we'?” Alan asked, surprised. “I thought everyone was leaving.” “Us, these guys,” the Chinese man smiled, pointing behind him where three of his companions stood—the same group Alan had just been talking to, “and me. And Meijiu, if he's not in a hurry tonight,” he glanced meaningfully at the leader, who nodded with a smile. “Tonight, I’m all yours. Alan's coming with us too.” “Ah…” Before he could answer, Alan felt a hand slap him on the shoulder. “Great!” exclaimed the Chinese man, releasing his grip. “Let's go then.” He headed for the exit from the underground room, his companions following close behind. They urged Alan and Meijiu to hurry up. Glancing back at them in confusion, Alan turned an uncertain look towards Meijiu. “Can you tell me what time it is, brother?” “I knew you'd ask,” the other man smirked. “Don't worry, it's not late at all. It's five to eight.” “Hmm, you're right, we still have time,” Alan mused thoughtfully. He vaguely felt like more time had passed, but maybe it was just because he'd been constantly switching between activities. “Alright, then I'll stay with you for an hour, and then I'll head out.” “You can stay longer if you'd like,” Meijiu smiled. “My driver can take you home later. It's no more than a twenty-minute drive from here.” “Really? It took me longer to get here.” “We know the shortcuts,” Meijiu replied mysteriously. “So, what do you say?” “What do I say? If you're so kindly offering me a ride home, I'd be a fool to refuse.” Alan really wanted to spend time with these friendly Chinese people, but the thought of Keith waiting for him alone at home made his heart ache. I’m sorry, Keith. I won't be home as early as I expected, but I'll try not to be late. He headed towards the exit from the basement and, turning to Meijiu as he walked, added, “Let's go, or the others will start without us.” “Sure,” Meijiu replied with a charming smile, but as soon as Alan turned away from him, his lips curled into a cold sneer.

***

The hands of the wall clock moved slowly, and time itself seemed to stretch out, almost frozen. Keith was sitting on the couch again, his feet up, turned towards the clock and staring at it intently. Almost eleven o'clock, but Alan still hadn't returned. Where could he be? Even if he decided to stay late, why hadn't he called to let him know? Questions echoed in Keith's head, and finding no answers, he clenched his teeth and wrung his hands painfully. He felt like he was about to break, to scream, to have a fit, but for now, he was desperately holding back his emotions. Overwhelming anxiety filled him, and with every passing minute, he felt worse and worse. And he started thinking about the past again, and with it, blaming himself. No wonder he isn't coming back. Why would he return to a traitor like you? Keith swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat. No, he responded to his snarky inner voice, Alan said he wouldn't leave him, and he had to believe that, because Alan never just said things, he meant what he said. But what if Meijiu had managed to convince him? No, this time Keith answered his doubting self, Alan wouldn't do that to him. It couldn't be, it couldn't... be… Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw someone's shadow at the entrance to the living room, but he didn't turn around. He knew it couldn't be Alan, because he hadn't heard the front door open. Which meant it was them again. Keith had forgotten what it felt like to have that sticky fear creep down his spine, to be afraid to turn around, because they could be anywhere—the shadows of the dead, the people he had killed. Ghosts who wanted nothing more than to drag his soul down to the underworld. He focused his gaze on the clock, but felt like they were surrounding him from all sides, lurking in every corner of the room, just waiting for the right moment to strike. “Don't come closer,” he mouthed, “go away.” Oh, is that so? You're kicking us out? We'll be happy to leave, just bring us back to life—and we'll disappear right away. The voices inside his head giggled, mocked him, as he sat huddled on the couch, silent tears rolling down his face. “Keith… My poor Keith.” He flinched. The voice in his head sounded too real now. But it couldn't be real, could it? After all, she... she couldn't possibly be talking to him now. “S-stella…” Without fear, he turned to the door where he sensed her presence and indeed saw her—just as he had last seen her when she was still alive, without the terrible gaping wound in her head. An expression of sadness and regret was frozen on her dark blue eyes. Keith reached out his hand towards her, and she, as if understanding the gesture without words, approached and placed her hand in his. He felt this touch as if she were really there, right beside him. “Stella,” he sobbed, pressing her hand to his face, “forgive me.” “For what do you ask forgiveness?” she asked softly. It was strange talking to her like this. He'd seen her so many times in dreams and visions, but she'd always been silent, never responding no matter how much he called out to her. Now he finally had the chance to tell her everything. “For not being able to save you, for not protecting Yuuji, for... doing all this to get revenge for you. So many innocent people suffered because of me.” Keith cried, still squeezing her hand, while Stella remained silent. Then her free hand lightly touched his gray hair. “You should truly apologize for the last thing. You and my brother, you both went mad. You destroyed everything Privavera always fought for. What Rose worked so hard for, and what I was trying to help her with.” “I know, I know,” Keith whispered through tears, “forgive me, forgive me... You're right, I completely lost my mind, I did unforgivable things. It's all because I lost you. If only you knew how much I miss you.” In the quiet of the room, he could hear only his own sobs, but he still felt her presence, and it strangely comforted him, as if he were not alone here. He tried hard to dismiss the thought that he might indeed be losing his mind. “I'm sorry I left you so soon, Keith,” her voice sounded again after a while. “And it pains me to see you suffering so much.” “How could it be otherwise?” he mumbled in reply, not wanting to admit he was talking to himself. “I need you, Stella. I... I still love you.” He noticed a skeptical smile playing on Stella's lips. Why? Doesn't she believe me? But it's the truth. “Have you not recently acquired another person whom you cherish above all else?” “Ah, you mean Alan,” Keith smiled. “Of course I cherish him, but... it's different. He can't replace you.” “Can't he?” Stella looked at him slyly, just as she did in life when she teased him, the same mischievous glint in her eyes. Keith looked away. “Of course not. Why would you say that?” “You see,” Stella's face fell immediately, “I can't be with you, so I'd be pleased to see you happy with someone else.” Keith shook his head. “Alan's just a friend,” he replied, unsure, “nothing more.” They were quiet for a while before Keith said, sounding down, “Actually, maybe I don't even have a friend anymore.” “Why?” “Because he still hasn't returned.” Glancing sideways at the clock, Keith saw that the hour and minute hands had reached 12. Midnight. Had he really been sitting here talking to Stella for so long? And Alan still wasn't here. It was hardly likely that he would come. When Keith looked back at Stella, she was gone. Had she ever been there? Chuckling at himself, Keith got up from the couch and immediately swayed—his legs had gone numb from sitting in one position for so long and now refused to support him. Moving cautiously, he went into the kitchen and stared at the dinner he had prepared several hours ago and left on the stove. For some reason, he was not at all hungry, although he had last eaten that morning. The food was sent to the refrigerator for lack of need, and Keith went to the bedroom to change clothes. He couldn’t stay in this apartment any longer. Perhaps a walk through the empty night streets would help him to clear his head. For quite a while, he wandered the city that was shimmering in the neon lights, but felt no charm from it. The calm night was disturbed by gusts of wind, rare but strong, piercing to the bone—or at least that's how it seemed to Keith who was always freezing. Each time he shivered and pulled the scarf tighter around his neck with his hands in warm gloves. He had no destination, and he literally went wherever his feet carried him, not thinking about direction and not even looking ahead. He tried not to think about anything at all, but the image of Stella still was in his mind’s eye. Most of all, he wanted to meet her, for real, and not in his hallucinations, but it was impossible. Because she was no longer in this world. But nothing prevented him from moving to that other world. Keith shuddered at the sudden thought. It had been a long time since he'd considered suicide, and now it frightened him, but only for a second. Then came a sense of resignation, as if it were the natural solution to all his problems. Indeed, this way he would be rid of his torment, and he might even see Stella again, if only the afterlife truly existed. And so, he would get what he deserved. After all, a killer of innocent people like him had no right to live, he had always known that. But what about Alan, then? Everything would be fine with him, Keith immediately answered himself. He had already chosen Meijiu, who would stay with him and give him much better support than Keith could, who could only ask for support for himself. He admitted that Alan would be much better off without such a burden. Keith's chest ached painfully from his own thoughts. He stopped at the crosswalk, watching the stream of cars rushing past. At some point, he raised his gaze a little higher, and his heart sank when he noticed the flickering sign of a building on the opposite side of the road. Primavera. From the outside, the club looked as inviting and full of life as ever—warm light spilled out of the windows, and vague silhouettes of people could be seen against that light; numerous expensive cars, inaccessible to most modern Japanese, were parked near the club. Keith involuntarily took a step back, then another, and continued to back away hesitantly for a while until he finally turned around and practically ran away from the place. How could he have come here? Keith walked quickly, pushing past people coming towards him, and some turned around in bewilderment. He pulled his hood over and lowered his head to hide his face. What if someone from Primavera was hanging around nearby? He couldn't let them recognize him. He continued to walk as fast as he could, occasionally looking back to make sure he wasn't being followed. No one was following him, there was no one behind him at all, but the anxiety still didn't leave him for the entire journey. He ended up at a place painfully familiar even under the cover of night, a place connected to his best and worst memories. The park. The very same park where he met Stella. The very same park where he, Stella and Yuuji often walked, carelessly enjoying themselves and talking about everything under the sun. The very same park where Stella was brutally murdered and Yuuji was seriously injured. It all happened here. The whole place is saturated with memories of his past. Keith walked a little deeper into the park and soon stumbled upon a bench, comfortably situated in the shade of the trees, which was very convenient in the summer and early autumn when the sun often shone brightly. It was during such a time that he once sat here and waited for his partner, and then she came up and asked if she could sit down. In his characteristic condescending manner, he replied that benches were not private property, so there was no need to ask permission. Hahaha… He could recall almost every detail of all their conversations, for now he lived only through them. He lived in the past, because there was no present. And now, sitting on this very bench in the deafening silence of the night, he remembered his happy past and immersed himself in it completely, unwilling to return to reality.

***

Strolling leisurely through the spacious restaurant hall towards the exit, Alan felt a significant weariness in his legs and a slight ringing in his ears. His eyes scanned the walls for the clock he was sure he'd seen earlier. Before he could make out the time, Meijiu called out to him, “Alan, are you alright? You look a little unsteady on your feet.” “No, no, I'm fine,” he turned to Meijiu, shaking his head vigorously. “Thanks for everything, brother. I had a great time today.” Meijiu smiled broadly and patted Alan on the shoulder. “Always at your service. We should hang out more often, don't you think?” “Absolutely,” Alan extended his hand, and Meijiu shook it firmly. “Well, I'll see you around. I'm off.” “Alright. My guy is waiting outside, he'll take you home.” Just as Alan was about to leave, he turned back and glanced at the clock, casually checking the time, just to make sure it was what he thought it was. But what he saw made him freeze. “Twelve o'clock?! Meijiu, how is that possible?” Alan looked at Meijiu, and the other man quickly averted his gaze. That reaction alone spoke volumes. “So, I guess this clock is telling the right time,” Alan said slowly, continuing to stare at the man. “But earlier, when I asked, you said it wasn't late at all.” “Most likely, the clock I checked earlier was wrong,” Meijiu replied, still avoiding Alan's gaze. “I'm sorry for misleading you.” “Meijiu,” Alan's voice took on a metallic edge. “You did that on purpose.” The other man remained silent, his brow furrowed in displeasure. “Why, Meijiu?” “You want to know why?” The man's tone changed abruptly, becoming unusually aggressive. His eyes, fixed on Alan, were filled with irritation and even a kind of vicious resentment. The younger man shuddered at the sight. “Because you're disgustingly attached to your friend. You're always with him, and now that you've been away for half a day, you're already eager to rejoin him. Why do you care so much about him? What has the murderer of my sister done to deserve it?” Those last words sliced through Alan like a knife, making him wince as if in physical pain. He was ruthlessly reminded of something he'd desperately tried to erase from his memory. Pausing for a moment, Alan tried to defend himself, “You know that...” “I know,” Meijiu cut him off. “That bastard, Gabriel Kaburaya, got what was coming to him. But it's not fair to blame everything on him, is it? After all, he didn't shoot my sister with his own rifle. It was your precious companion who did it, and then he turned around and blamed you. How, tell me, how can you still treat him like that after everything that happened?” Alan lowered his gaze and mumbled uncertainly, “He did realize what he’d done wrong. And he apologized to me…” “Oh, you don’t need to tell me that,” Meijiu interrupted him again. “I’m sure you’d forgiven him even before he asked for forgiveness.” Alan was speechless. Meijiu smirked wryly and added, “When you returned from China, you’d already let go of your anger towards him, hadn’t you? You wanted primarily to sort things out between the two of you, not seek revenge for Meixue.” “N-no…” But Alan himself could hear how unconvincing his denial sounded. As if in confirmation of this, Meijiu’s lips twisted into an even more unpleasant sneer. “Or rather, yes, but... damn it, you’re just not getting it! Yuki... she wouldn’t want me to seek revenge for her. She always believed in solving things peacefully. So... doing this is the best thing I can do to honor her memory.” Meijiu snorted contemptuously and averted his eyes. Alan continued, “And Keith means a lot to me, I’ve already told you. And whether you like it or not, I’m going to be with him. Sorry, but that’s just how it is. You have no idea what he’s going through right now. He needs my support. That’s why I try not to leave him alone for long.” “You know, she really loved you,” Meijiu suddenly said sadly, looking away. “She even hoped to marry you.” Alan stared at him in disbelief, unable to say a word. Meixue had never told him that, though he understood she’d been taking their relationship seriously. He had thought, too, about spending the rest of his days with her, but… “Why are you telling me this now?” he asked in a strained voice. “And I loved her too, you know that.” “I'm not so sure about that,” Meijiu replied, looking at him with a mix of mockery and sadness. “It seems to me you've been running from your feelings for this guy Keith your whole life, but it's not working.” Once again, Alan was left speechless, helplessly staring at Meijiu with wide eyes. Anger mixed with confusion and embarrassment inside him; he couldn’t fully understand his emotions and didn’t know how to respond to such a statement. Finally, he turned towards the door, throwing back one last remark, “You... don’t understand a damn thing, Meijiu!” “Of course,” a bitter voice came from behind him. “Run back to your beloved before he goes crazy from waiting a couple of hours. Though honestly, it might do him some good.” Alan glanced back one last time, only to meet the other's angry gaze, feeling another one of his connections shatter in that very moment. In all likelihood, this would be the end of his interactions with Meijiu. He turned away and strode quickly toward the car, trying to swallow the nasty lump in his throat. “Hey Alan, you alright?” The driver was one of the guys Alan had recently been hanging out with, sparring and then downing drinks of varying strength. The guy had a pretty good grasp of Japanese and could even speak it fairly well, though with a noticeable Chinese accent. He looked at the young man who had just jumped into his car in bewilderment and winced when the other slammed the door shut behind him. “Hey, easy there, would you?” “Sorry, man,” Alan sighed, settling into the passenger seat next to the driver. “Please, let's go as fast as we can.” “Whatever you say,” the driver shrugged. “Buckle up.” Alan's request was granted—fifteen minutes later he was standing in front of the apartment building where Keith rented a place. However, inside he was met only by silence and darkness in all the rooms. He went through them all, turning on the lights everywhere, but as expected, Keith wasn't there. Alan stopped in the living room and grabbed his head. “Where could you have gone?” he mumbled. “What are you up to? Please, Keith... just don't do anything crazy.” He was sure his friend was having some pretty dark thoughts right now. He wanted to find him immediately and make sure he was okay, but what good would it do to search the whole neighborhood? No, that was pointless, but... what else could he do? In the end, Alan decided to calm down and just wait for Keith. Most likely, he had just gone out for a bit and would be back soon. Convincing himself of this, Alan sat down on the couch. Now he could fully feel how tired his legs were from all the activity that day, and he had rushed here too. He thought that he probably wouldn't have enough energy to search the city for Keith without having the slightest idea where he might be, but he was still going to do it if his friend didn't show up soon. For now... he could rest a little. The accumulated fatigue and the alcohol he'd had were starting to take their toll, so soon Alan's eyes closed on their own. With the last of his strength, he tried not to fall asleep, but against his will, his connection to reality imperceptibly faded. The front door slammed shut around two in the morning, jolting him awake. He sprang to his feet instantly and dashed into the hallway. There, he bumped into Keith, and they both stared at each other—Alan with alarm, Keith with surprise, as if he hadn't expected to see his former partner in his apartment. “Where have you been?” Alan asked first, frowning in annoyance. He was irritated by his friend's irresponsible behavior but tried to keep himself in check and avoid losing his temper. “Out,” Keith replied indifferently, looking away, and began to unzip his jacket. “At this time of night? And in this weather?” The howling wind, audible even through the closed windows, made it clear that the weather had only gotten worse in the hour and a half since Alan had arrived. However, Keith didn't dignify the reasonable question with an answer and merely shrugged. Then Alan noticed something. Keith had already taken off his coat, and it was clear to see that he was shivering—obviously frozen. Alan's irritation vanished in an instant, replaced by sympathy and, for some reason, regret, as if he were the one who had thrown Keith out into the cold. “Go to the room,” he practically pushed the barely moving Keith into the living room and went to the kitchen himself. “I’ll make you some hot tea.” When he returned with a mug of steaming liquid, Keith was sitting on the couch with his legs tucked under him, his hands clasped together resting on his knees. He was still shivering slightly from time to time, and Alan, sighing, placed the mug in front of him on the table and went to the bedroom. From there, he brought a blanket and immediately wrapped it around Keith. The latter continued to sit motionless in the same pose. Alan landed next to him on the couch and, glancing quickly at his friend, closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “Don’t do that again, okay?” he said calmly. “You scared the hell out of me.” Keith glanced at him suspiciously but didn’t respond. Then Alan heard him mumble indistinctly, “Why didn’t you stay at Meijiu’s?” “Should I have?” Alan replied casually, with a slight smirk, but Keith, judging by his appearance, didn’t share his mood. He sat there, glowering at the floor, looking tense and troubled. “Listen,” Alan said, his tone turning serious, “I know I was late. I’m sorry. Meijiu and I got carried away and lost track of time. You know,” he perked up, his voice filled with excitement, “his restaurant has a basement where they hold fights, just to compete with each other and show off their fighting skills. It’s almost like those street fighting festivals in our district, remember?” Keith’s eyes widened for a moment, then his features softened, and a faint smile appeared on his lips. “So,” relief crept into his voice, “you were just caught up in another fighting festival, huh?” “Yeah, exactly. You know how I get into that stuff. And then Meijiu sent his driver with me, and I was here around half past midnight. But you weren’t here. I didn’t know what to think.” The smile faded from Keith’s face, and his expression immediately turned sad and thoughtful. “And Meijiu… didn’t he suggest that you stay with him?” he asked hesitantly. “Like, to never come back here again?” Alan sighed. He didn’t want to tell Keith the truth, but lying would probably be even worse. Especially since Keith seemed to sense everything anyway. “He did. But I refused. I told you I would stay with you.” “Heh, heh,” Keith laughed in a strange, unnatural way, wrapping himself in the blanket, “I knew you’d keep your word. You can’t just leave me.” “Of course I can’t,” Alan replied cautiously, glancing at his friend with concern. Then he reached for the mug that was still on the table and handed it to Keith. “Here, drink up before it gets cold.” Keith obediently took the mug, wrapping both hands around it, but didn't take a sip. Staring into the dark surface of the liquid, he continued, “I wish I could say you don’t have to do this,” his lips trembled, the corners twitching up and down. “But I… I really can’t be without you. Not at all. I’m so pathetic. I’m disgusted with myself, you know?” Tears streamed down Keith’s cheeks. The blanket gradually slipped from his trembling shoulders, and the mug in his hands shook. “I went outside because I couldn’t stay here anymore. When I’m alone, they’re always there, watching me, and it’s terrifying. I couldn’t sleep because they would be there too, and it would be even worse, because there’s nothing to hold them back. I can’t escape them. Only when you’re around do they back off. And I thought, if you didn’t come back, then…” He broke off, sobbing, and the mug jumped in his hands, nearly spilling the tea on him. Alan put an arm around his shoulders to steady him, and with his other hand, he took the mug from him and set it on the table. “What’s wrong with you?” he mumbled, confused, pulling Keith closer as he felt Keith wrap his arms around his waist and bury his face in his shoulder. “I’m here, everything’s fine. I wasn’t going to leave you.” He ran his hand through Keith’s gray hair, trying to ruffle it affectionately. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have kept track of time.” Damn it, Meijiu, why did you do that? “You don’t have to apologize,” Keith said softly, sniffling, and pulling back a little. “It’s good enough that you’re staying with me. I don’t need anything more. After all, you have a right to your own life.” “Just know that I’ll never leave you,” Alan pulled him closer again and hugged him tightly. “Don’t even think about it.” “I’m sorry that… you have to deal with me,” Keith whispered into his shoulder. Alan smiled sadly. In everything Keith had just said, he clearly heard his friend consider himself a burden and nothing more. He suddenly felt the need to clarify this once and for all, and so he firmly stated, “That's not why I'm with you, Keith.” A moment of silence stretched between them before Keith timidly asked, “Why, then?” His voice held such genuine curiosity that Alan couldn't suppress a soft chuckle. You really don't know, do you, Keith? “Because I need you. You're my closest person, you know.” Keith took a sharp breath, his hand tightening on Alan's shirt. “But what about... Meijiu?” “What about Meijiu? He's Yuki's brother, and we get along well, that's all. You know yourself that it's nothing like what connects us.” Keith's heart froze. He didn't understand how Alan could so casually mention his beloved and then immediately say how much he valued him. His shoulders shook again, and he stammered, “But I... I'm the one who... Yuki...” “Stop it, Keith.” Alan's words were so harsh, it felt like a sudden chill had swept through Keith. He instantly regretted mentioning it, reminding Alan of what he'd been through because of his best friend's stupidity and betrayal. Frantically thinking of a way to change the subject, Keith shivered as Alan continued, “I'm really trying to put it behind me. I know you would never have done that if you hadn't been in such a state. I understand, and that's why I don't hold a grudge. But please, don't make me remember it. It's... too hard.” “I-I'm sorry,” Keith stammered, his voice barely a whisper. They were silent for a moment before Alan sighed and patted Keith on the head. “It's okay, Keith. We can start over. Well, actually, we already have,” he added with a smile. “Let's not dwell on the past anymore, okay?” “Yeah... whatever you say,” Keith replied, feeling a lump forming in his throat again. He took a deep breath, trying to stifle a sob. “Thank you, Alan.” “It’s nothing,” Alan said softly, ruffling Keith's hair again. “Don't forget, I'm not doing you any favors.” Keith couldn't hold it in any longer and let out a sob, pulling his friend closer. “I… I love you so much, Alan.” In that moment, Alan's heart skipped a beat, then a strange tightness seized his chest, followed by an incredibly warm feeling. He slowly ran his hands down Keith's back and gently pressed his lips against his hair. “I love you too, Keith,” he said quietly. They had never been so explicit about their feelings before, even though each understood they were deeply attached to the other, a bond akin to family. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, rooted in gratitude and mutual support. So why... did it feel so strange? Keith couldn't understand why his heart was suddenly pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of his chest. And being so close to Alan, he thought he could hear his friend's heart racing too. Why were they both so nervous? They remained in their embrace for what felt like forever, sitting close and listening to each other's steady breathing. Eventually, Keith realized they'd been holding this position for far too long and it was time to let go. But he couldn't bring himself to pull away. He felt his face flush with a level of embarrassment he didn't think was possible. Except maybe that one time. Finally, Alan broke the silence. Clearing his throat, he said, “It’s getting late. Maybe we should go to sleep?” “Y-yeah,” Keith mumbled, gently disentangling himself from the embrace and turning away. A moment later, a sound echoed through the room that Keith recognized instantly as his stomach growling. He felt his face flush even redder. “Um… Keith, are you… hungry?” Alan’s voice was a mix of surprise and amusement. Keith chuckled, trying to hide his awkwardness. “I completely forgot about it. I probably shouldn't eat now.” Alan frowned and asked more seriously, “When was the last time you ate?” “This morning... with you.” “Oh...” Without another word, Alan took Keith's hand and started pulling him towards the kitchen. Keith tried to resist, “Hey, what are you doing? No, we should go to sleep.” “You're not getting into bed until you eat something, at least a little bit,” Alan said firmly. He sat Keith down on a chair and opened the refrigerator, scanning the shelves. “Let's see, what do we have here... Oh, what's this?” Alan's gaze immediately landed on a pot he hadn't seen before. Keith sighed and replied, “I made this today.” “So why didn't you...?” Alan trailed off, his expression shifting from confusion to understanding. He clearly didn't need any more explanation, but Keith decided to speak up anyway. “I wouldn't have made it for myself. I thought maybe you'd want some.” There was no reply right away, and Keith glanced sideways at his friend hesitantly. Alan was looking at him and smiling, a slightly sad smile. Keith knew that look—he could see it in the characteristic wrinkle at the corner of his mouth. “Thank you for taking care of me,” Alan said. And Keith didn't know what exactly made him feel embarrassed—was it that look with the sad smile, or the incredibly tender tone Alan had used to thank him? Whatever it was, his cheeks were burning once again within the last few minutes. They didn't sleep until dawn that night. After eating Keith's cooking, they talked for hours about all sorts of things—from the details of Alan's day (except for his conversations with Meijiu about Keith, of course) to their plans for the next day and the near future. They continued discussing it even in bed, and eventually, without realizing it, Keith fell asleep, curled up next to his friend. Alan didn't notice right away, lost in his own talk about the future, but when he turned his head towards Keith, he instantly fell silent and snorted. “Who am I telling all this to…” He couldn't help but stare at his friend's face, so peaceful in sleep that one could say with certainty that he wasn't having a nightmare. Keith was lying on his side, his arms outstretched towards Alan. After a moment's hesitation, Alan gently took his hand in his own. A smile immediately spread across the sleeper's face, and the corners of Alan's lips involuntarily turned up as well. He squeezed Keith's hand softly, feeling an overwhelming surge of affection for this guy, with whom they had endured the harshest trials and, despite everything, had maintained the same bond that had once brought them together. The bond that allowed them to understand each other without words and to rely on each other in any situation, whether it was ordinary everyday affairs or deadly battles, knowing for sure that the other would support and watch their back. Besides, Keith had always been the one who understood Alan best. No one could replace his best friend, Alan was convinced of that. But could he replace Yuki? A strange thought crept into Alan’s mind. And then he realized it wasn’t the only odd thing. Looking at his friend like that, holding his hand like that—it wasn’t exactly proper, from anyone else’s perspective. But to Alan, it felt completely natural. Come to think of it, he’d always felt this way. He’d always gravitated towards his friend's company; his mere presence seemed to brighten Alan’s day. He'd always felt the urge to protect him, from physical harm and emotional pain, especially the latter, for his friend's psyche was so fragile. Alan had never before questioned the nature of his feelings; he’d simply loved and felt loved in return. But perhaps... he shouldn’t feel this way about Keith? “I’m so sorry, Yuki,” Alan murmured, his eyelids growing heavy. As he drifted off to sleep, he saw his beloved Meixue looking at him with a sorrow he’d never seen before.