The Devil In You

Lilies

Suggested listening: The Ark - This Sad Bouquet

On the sixth day from the worldwide proclamation of Jin Kazama's death, the Japanese government gave its green light for his funeral. Hwoarang was slowly getting dressed up with the only suit he owned, the one that Jin insisted on having made tailored because, he said, "You never know when you might need one". The Korean wished he wouldn't need it on such an occasion, for such a person. He felt his stomach all tangled up and he just couldn't breathe right. He was fighting back tears as he adjusted the black tie which completed the outfit. "He used to do the knot, and make fun of the way I did it". Every single memory stung in a painful way that he didn't want to feel, and he drove in autopilot to the temple as he himself wasn't, in some way, there.

Xiaoyu, in a modest and elegant black dress, was waiting for him at the entrance, with a yellow chrysanthemum in the right hand and a juzu in the left.

-Hello, Hwoarang. Nice suit. He would like it.

-He chose it. Are we the first to arrive?

-No... Nina is already inside as well. But we're the only ones. The ceremony is about to start.

"Three people. You are dead, my love, and there are only three people to mourn you."

They entered together, actually holding each other's arm; Hwoarang had a hard time walking and standing, when he saw the urn in the middle of the altar, with a photo of Jin beside it.

-Stay strong. For Jin.- whispered Xiaoyu.

Then they sat down. Hwoarang chose the first row, usually reserved for blood relatives; Xiaoyu sat two rows behind him, whereas Nina was in the last line of benches. The priest started to read out the Sutra; the Korean was the first to stand up and burn a stick of incense for the deceased. He couldn't stop looking at the picture, knowing that the urn contained nothing but a pile of incense ashes since the body was never recovered; suddenly it was all real, Jin was really gone. He put two white lilies between the urn and the photo, then he sat back again. Nina left, unexpectedly. Xiaoyu burned another incense stick, then placed her yellow chrysanthemum near the lilies. She was softly weeping. When the Sutra ended, the priest asked who was going to bring the urn home.

-I am.- Hwoarang promptly said.

-Are you a relative?

-Do you see any? He was my lover. My soul mate. I deserve to bring him home.

The priest murmured something, then tilted his head to the Korean.

-Thank you.

Hwoarang collected the urn, the flowers and the picture. He finally was outside the temple, which oppressed his soul even further in that gloomy day. It started faintly raining, and it was only him and Xiaoyu now.

-How am I supposed to live with this? I loved... love a tyrant, a warmonger. He brought destruction and death to this world. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to hate him completely for what he's done. He was the love of my life, Xiaoyu, and I never even told him. I never even told him. I loved him like you love life itself and its gifts, as much as your soul allows you to love someone, and a little bit more. But my mouth could never tell him that, and now he's dead and I never will.

-He loved you the same, and he knew, Hwoarang, he knew. We talked often and he was so proud of you, how far you had come as a couple. He wasn't exactly talkative as well, and I bet he didn't tell you so many things that he felt for you. But they were there. Until the last day, I swear to you Hwoarang, they were there.

Finally, the Korean broke down into the tears he had been holding since that early morning. He sighed and wept and sobbed, hugging Xiaoyu tight.

-I... I'm alone now. Alone with all this love that hasn't died with him, that won't go away. I want it gone, it hurts too much. What am I supposed to do, go back to the place we called home and remember every place we made love to, every laugh we had, every memory we built together when we still could be as one? Or go back to my apartment, and recognise the spots where everything started, where we kissed for the first time, made love for the first time? I am trapped in a world where I am us, not me anymore. I am our love, our strength together, our courage. I don't know how to be myself when I have know what I could have been with him for all my life. We should have been forever, we should have been endgame, how is it possible that his death has come so fast, so sudden? I don't want a world where Jin Kazama doesn't exist, I don't want it, I refute it. It cannot exist, Xiaoyu, it doesn't...

Then, it became too difficult for Hwoarang to talk, swallowed by his crying in the rain.

//

Once arrived at home, Hwoarang put the urn beside a rare photo of the couple smiling, with the lilies beside. Lilies were among Jin's favourite flowers, despite being associated with death. He still had red eyes from all the crying, and he felt he wasn't done yet. He had vented with Xiaoyu, but now, now he was alone with his Jin. And he needed to talk. He got rid of the suit and put on some kimono pants; then, he knelt in front of the happy picture of them.

-Jin... my darling Jin. I couldn't possibly understand what brought you to think bringing war to the world could actually be good for people around the globe. All I know is you're not evil like your father, so you must have been truly convinced that was the case. Maybe that's why I cannot hate you, even though what you've done has brought so much death and so much suffering even around me. It will never be right, can never be undone, and it kills me that it will be the only thing the world will remember about you. But I knew you. You were a kind, caring soul. You loved nature and its animals, calm and walking into the forests. You loved me, and even though we didn't express this concept much between us, I know you loved me deeply, so deeply you thought you had to protect me from yourself by any means necessary. I loved you the same. I loved you so much it hurts to tell you right now because I know I won't ever be able to tell you, to hug you, to sleep tight with you, to kiss you softly and caress your skin. I don't know how I am going to go on. You taught me to see myself differently when I wouldn't accept otherwise. I miss you, you belong with me, but you are no more. You're dead. I will love a dead man for the rest of my life. I will always hold dear all our times together, the laughter, your stupid tea and the perfect love we made where we were one. We were one. There won't be a day where I won't miss you, where I won't hurt for you. No one will live up to you.

He stood up, crying and sobbing.

-I love you with all my heart, Jin Kazama. The love of my life.