She doesn't tell the police what happened- she insists that she is fine, despite the tender and purple skin puckering up around her throat. She spits my blood out of her mouth into the kitchen sink instead of into an evidence bag. She begs Asahi not to kill me; that was probably the hardest part. Some might say I got off easy but when my ultimatum was quitting volleyball, switching universities, and explaining why to my parents, it seemed anything but simple.

She didn't just block my number- she got an entirely new phone, new number, blocked me on any sort of social media (I later found out this was Asahi's doing), and didn't leave her house without somebody by her side. I changed everything for both us indefinitely, our lives completely altered forever.

-

I got the news ten days after the incident. I was sitting by myself on the couch; both my parents were upstairs, avoiding me. Neither of them spoke to me anymore unless out of necessity. I'd heard my mother crying every single one of the past ten nights.

A knock came at the door; my mom stepped downstairs quickly and opened it since she didn't want me even crossing the doorway unless it was for school. I peeked over from my place on the couch where I absent-mindedly watch television; it was Asahi. I froze where I sat, unable to move out of fear. He towered over my mom, his expression stone cold.

"Asahi," she spoke, her voice almost timid beneath him. "I didn't expect to see you."

"Hi Mrs. Sugawara," he said, giving her a slight smile; he felt bad for her, that she got damned with a bastard child like me. "I just came to pick up some of (y/n)'s things that were still here. She's leaving tonight."

"Oh, is she?" She said, the ache in her voice poking though the sugary-sweetness. "Why don't you come upstairs to Koushi's room with me to get her things?"

He nods and follows her, and as tempted as I am to beg him to tell me where she's leaving to, I stay put on the couch. I mute the television and listen intently, only catching clips of their conversation. There's a lot of Sorry's and I Know's, along with a couple of She Deserved Better's. I unmute the television after "I don't think I can ever forgive him," in my mother's voice.

Only a few minutes pass before they return, Asahi holding a pile of clothes as well as a few of (y/n)'s things in his hands. One of her hairbrushes, a pair of flip-flops, a few bottles of nail polish. He shoots me a glance intended to kill as he reaches the final steps, his eyes burning holes through my pathetic figure. My mother turns and faces me as well, only shooting me a short look of disappointment before opening the door for Asahi.

"Listen," he speaks before leaving, standing in the doorway while staring down at me. "(Y/n) is leaving and that is all you are ever going to know. Don't try and get in touch with her or me ever again. Especially her." He emphasizes.

I don't say anything, no words coming to my head that would make things better.

"Fuck," he says under his breath. "I'm sorry for what I'm about to say Mrs. Sugawara. You are such a piece of shit, Koushi. You are the worst person I've ever known and I just want you to know that you completely ruined her life-" he jams a thumb outside the door, pointing toward the car on the curb outside. Is she here?

"Don't go out there," he says. I stand up anyways, met by his tall figure immediately blocking the door. "You wanna know where she's going? You wanna know what you did?"

"(Y/n)!" I try to shout out the doorway. I catch a glimpse of her figure in the driver's seat and we make eye contact; her eyes widen in fear and she turns away.

"She's leaving the country! She's leaving forever! You took her out of all of our lives and still you're here trying to cause more damage! Give it up!"

I can tell he wants to knock me out but my mom's presence stops him. He mumbles a sorry before leaving, my mom closing the door behind him.

"You've caused everyone so much pain," my mom says softly. "And you still only care about how you're hurting. I didn't think I raised you like this."

Her words are like poison as she retreats up the stairs, leaving me alone. I know I shouldn't but I proceed to peek through the front curtains, desperate for a glimpse of her. She's crying, bent over the steering wheel, shoulders shaking with sobs; the worst part is Asahi's hand on her shoulder and as much as I want to fly out there and rip his hand off, I stay put. He's right- everyone is right.

I've caused enough trouble as it is and while I'd like to somehow show up at the airport before she boards her flight to God knows where, bouquet of roses in hand and promises I have no intention of keeping, I know this scene will never play. We will not work it out in the airport lounge, dramatic confessions and tears drawing stranger's attention. We will never have the kiss that ends up in our scrapbook we show our grandchildren sixty years from now. There is no happy ending for her and I and as I reminisce on the first days we met and how it felt to fall in love for the first time, it hits me.

I was not complete before I met her and I will never be complete again now that she is flying to another country where she will speak in different tongues, saying I love you in dialects I am hopeless to understand. I will never be the same because while I was empty before she came into my life there is nothing like the feeling of loss, of having someone more precious to you than your own life and watching them fly away. I never knew what it was like to love someone so much it burned a gaping whole in my chest that would never heal, and now that I am bleeding out on my living room floor, for the first time I understand the meaning of forever.