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War is tough. Espicially when your life cripples as it continues. The war isn't your life, the people who you love dearly are. They are everything for you. It's amazing to see them smile. It's horrible to see them cry.
But, to find out by letter that one of those special people have fallen is tough. Soon, left and right, people die, their sould extinguishing like a flame on a candle. Hurt builds, and soon, the only thing left is rage.
But there would only be one way to fix it. To fill the holes of your heart with anything. Anything you can take, anything you can find, anything you can see. Of course, it didn't help.
He sits on his bed, the darkness nothing to his keen eyes as he bunkmates sleep. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, reading the letter over and over and over again, even as it rips more and more holes into his heart.
He winces as he lets his leg loose from the crouch, letting it swing under his bunkbed. He couldn't feel him there, the absence learing like a scar.
First his parents, then Tsutako, and now him. The flesh-haired boy with so much talent.
Beyond him.
Far, far, far beyond him.
How could he make it up? For his absence, for his carelessness. but he couldn't repay. Because somewhere on the Earth, there was a mound of dirt. And six feet under was a boy named Sabito.
Why? Why not him?
His guilt overran him, and soon, he found himself wandereing out into the night, hands staying stone-cold at his sides.
The moonlight was beautiful. Majestic, even. The leaves swayed everywhere, and the powerful purple of the sky nearly overtook him, his sadness evaporating into the reflection of the sun.
As the wind blew his hair across his face, he sat. On a lonely, sad bench underneath the breathtaking stars.
Swaying in the wind, he sighed as he rested his head across the top of the bench.
It was unfair. The sweet souls died, while the rotten ones got payback in a much less horrifying manner. Maybe, it was the punishment from heaven? To punish the inferiors like him by taking the ones he loved.
But, it wasn't.
As he sat here, on the cold, lonely bench, he realized.
This was his heaven.
He had never been happier before this. He loved training, he loved the fights, and he loved watching his friends frolick and play during their free time at their posts. When they die, they tell the others to let it go.
How the others seemed to do it easy, he didn't know.
But either way, this is his heaven. Or was.
Everywhere he looked, he hated it. The canteen line, the snow, the tents, everything!
He sighed as sleep took him into her gently arms, his eyes as heavy as lead.
