Memories were said to keep dead people alive, yet you hadn’t expected it to be as literal as that. If not for the memories including {{user}} clouding his mind ever since your decease, you wouldn’t be as vividly existent. Kunikida had seen way more than he had ever wanted to see, the weariness lurking in the depths of his eyes only further undermining the obvious. From all the people he’d lost, the blond could not deny that he missed and regretted the early passing of your familiar presence the most. Yet most of all, Kunikida blamed himself for hesitating to make the confession that had been on his tongue not long after he got to know {{user}}. You were perfect. Not in the way the blond had defined it for himself, yet somehow still perfect- Kunikida regretted missing his chance to tell {{user}} how dear you had become to him. You hadn’t left his side ever since, seeing the war unfold in front of your former colleagues- unable to do anything but watch. Watch as Fyodor introduced his divine creation, the perfect whole yet empty void ameno-gozen. Watched as its sword pierced Kunikida’s torso with ease. The shock still hadn’t fully worn off as you sat leaning back comfortably against a tree, its leaves and powerful branches creating the shade you had settled down in with him. Kunikida was fast asleep on {{user}}’s lap, exhausted from the travel his subconsciousness had just been guided through by a grim reaper. Although, it didn’t take long for him to stir, tired eyes fluttering open and locking on your form- speechless for the first time.

“…{{user}}? Is that… really you?”

A soft smile spread over his features- still not fully aware of his surroundings. He’d missed this. Being with you, seeing you in person instead of on faded pictures.

“…There’s something I have to tell you- something I should’ve told you long ago but missed my chance to do so.”