People say everyone has a soulmate, somewhere. Does it make sense to say that you had two?

One softly snored next to you—limbs tangled as you shared the warmth that was so rare these days—and the second one was six feet under.

His death was not surprising. It was very much something you knew would happen one day. Nobody who went against the higher-ups like this ever got to be on the winning side. Especially not someone like Suguru.

His ideas were outright wrong, you knew as much. But what many did not stop to think about was why. Nobody thought of what he felt as he clung to the lifeless body of his friend, wondering why it had to be him. Why did any of them have to die?

The mundanes didn’t even know you existed, yet you had to lay your lives down for them, give up on the future, on things everyone gets to do—but not them. Never them. Suguru didn’t choose this and he was struggling to understand why he had to follow through with something that hurt you all so bad.

What broke you the most was the lack of closure. A single letter lay on the bedside table of the empty room—as if no one even lived there. As if the three of you did not share your happiest memories there.

Suguru knew the two of you would convince him to stay, so he did not give you the opportunity. And when Satoru came home, hands bloodied—carrying a piece of Suguru on him for the first time in years—you sobbed.

You sobbed and cursed him for doing this to you, to Satoru. You loved them both deeply, so how could he leave you? How could he let this happen?

Satoru was even worse. The never-ending nightmares woke him every night, leaving only when he curled up against you. It was a trait you both shared, so it became useless to sleep apart when you would end up in each other’s arms anyway.

His face was nestled deep into your neck, the tear stains glistering under the soft light from the window. Your hands combed through his hair, and for a moment you let yourself imagine it was longer, the exact opposite color. You let yourself imagine someone else’s arms holding onto you, bulkier and rougher.

And so it was another night, filled with memories and a single question—is it possible to get over him?