𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, Inumaki Toge

epilogue, the christmas song

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HE FINDS HIMSELF ALONE on Boxing Day — or rather, Boxing Night now.

He's not at home, miraculously. He's wandering aimlessly through the city, peeking through windows to watch others' celebrating as though some of their merriment can pass to him and fill his tired, empty heart.

His hands shoved into his pockets, he keep his head down as he tracks his way through the thin riverside crowd by the River. Tower Bridge is a nice place to be at Christmas, he thinks. But still, despite everything, he wishes someone is here with him.

And somehow, someway, his wish came true.

Just not in the way he wishes.

"Hey, Inumaki."

Impossible.

He turns ever so slightly, towards the voice. The voice of his dreams, the voice of his nightmares, the voice he will always turn towards. And his eyes find her, standing a few meters away from him, locking onto her immediately even after their time apart and the cut ties between them. Some part of him, he thinks, will always be looking for her in every crowd, every sea of faces.

"Hey," is all he gets out with a swallow. "What are you — what are you doing here?"

She licks her lips nervously, her demeanor awkward. "I— I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

"You're... sorry?"

He's confused. He's supposed to be saying those words to her, not her to him. But even after so much, she's still there. Still apologizing to him, still telling her that she's sorry, still saying all the things he should be telling her.

Some part of him expected to hate her when he saw her next.

But he can't. Not even now, not even after she left without any further explanation. He just cannot hate her. It's just in the makeup of his very cells that repels hatred towards the individual standing before him, unable to even face her with anger.

"Yeah," she says. "I'm sorry I left. And I didn't want to tell you this here, during Christmas, but—" She cuts herself off. "I don't believe in fate, but something brought me here. And— ah, whatever. This is stupid. I'll go."

"Wait," Inumaki says quickly, reaching out a hand towards her, but he doesn't make contact.

She pauses.

"What was— what was the true reason you left?" Inumaki asks, his wretched voice coming out broken. "I know the argument was... was the final straw, but Gojo told me that my—our—relationship didn't fall apart in a day. Was it because I spent too much time in front of a screen? Was it—was it because I didn't give you enough attention?"

She seems to be fighting a war within herself. "No," she finally says, her voice quiet. "I—" She cuts herself off again; Inumaki is patient with her. "For the longest time, my biggest fear wasn't that we'd row, or that you'd lie, or that you'd cheat. My biggest fear was that one Thursday morning, you'd wake up before me, and instead of leaning in and kissing me on the cheek, you'd start to notice all my flaws and imperfections. My crooked nose, chapped lips, the scar above my eyebrow. You'd think about sudden, random spouts of jealousy and how I'm overbearing and OCD and the fact I worry too much."

"You'd remember how annoying it was — how annoying it is — that i'm always right, and how selfish I can be sometimes. And you'd walk into the kitchen, and get yourself a coffee, just the way you like it, stare at the sunlight coming through the window, dispersed by the morning dew beaded on it, and come to conclusion that, for no reason at all, you didn't love my anymore."

Inumaki sucks in a breath, his eyes suddenly moist. He doesn't trust himself to speak, just shakes his head.

"And then—" Her voice is thick, but she continues, "—and then that happened to me. I woke up one day, and I stared at you, and even though you were laying right next to me, it felt like we were a million galaxies apart. And then I found myself wondering: When had it all gone wrong? What had changed?

"And then I realized that it wasn't one specific time, or one big thing. It was a thousand little cute, every day; every time I left the room to sleep on the couch so you could do your things, every time I ate dinner alone, and I realized that I— I was falling out of love with you. And the worst part was that I wasn't too worried about stopping it from happening. And I tried to keep going, tried to hold us up, but— things could never quite be the same ever again."

He licks his lips. He still can't speak. He's afraid that if he starts, he'll never know when to stop.

"And I'm sorry."

Her voice breaks, and she chews on her lip. He can see her eyes glistening, glossed over with a layer of moisture, one that he's sure mirrored in his eyes.

"I was — " He swallows his pride, suppressing it for another day. "I was supposed to be the one apologizing."

She pauses once more. "What do you have to apologize for?"

"I'm— I'm sorry that... I'm sorry that I was never there for you," he says, and it's like he released a dam. The words all come flooding out in a torrent. "Sorry that I never gave you enough attention, never gave all of me to you — I'm sorry that I was always only half there, and I knew that you deserved more than this life, but nothing in me ever acted on that. And it's just that when I think back, I remember that we could have had it all, and I—I ruined it."

She smiles. Small, sad, forgiving. "I never wanted it all, Inumaki. All I ever wanted was you."

And surely, surely, this is what breaks him.

A tear slips down his cheek, unbidden. It tracks a steady path down his face, leaving moisture in its wake as it falls, falls, falls. Inumaki doesn't stop it. He's afraid that if he wipes it off, hundreds more will follow.

"It's been an honor, Inumaki. I wouldn't have changed it for the world. And i hope one Thursday morning, you can wake up, and you can walk into the kitchen, and get yourself coffee, just the way you like it, stare at the sunlight coming through the window, dispersed by the morning dew beaded on it, and you can find it in your heart to forgive me for all I put you through."

And there is silence, the heavy kind that settles around you, muffling unspoken words like a heavy cloak, and Inumaki can't find the words to speak.

"Goodbye, Inumaki," she says with a small, sad, smile. "Thanks for everything."

She turns to leave, and the world tumbles out of Inumaki's mouth before he can stop it.

"Wait."

She stops. And turns back.

Inumaki cannot form words.

His next sentence comes out choked, but sincere.
"I forgive you."

And that's it. That's the closure he needs. Her and Him, now a memory, preserved in the pages of the archive of his mind. There is nothing left to be said, except a final The End.

A small smile dances across her lips, and everything is already there. She doesn't say anything further, but all she wants to say can be gleaned from her expression — unspoken, but echoing into Inumaki's heart. And it all comes up into one sentence, one line, one wish, one blessing.

"Merry Christmas, Inumaki."

Inumaki smiles. Just a small one, Just a small quirk of his lips — small, but there.

"Merry Christmas, Nora."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE,,

It took so long to finish this fanfic. I was actually meant to finish it for Christmas but whatever, and thank you for sticking around, :)

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