321: Chapter 14

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Hikaru

He was free.

With just four little words, the chains of responsibility that once held him down were gone. Hikaru no longer gave a single flying fuck about his career, his fans or even his life, and oddly enough the mere declaration brought him peace that he hadn't known for years. Serenity that calmed the roar of productivity, the rush of creation. Tranquillity that lapped at his feet—warm, gentle, and inviting.

In the ocean and amongst the waves sat his lover and his child on a boat under the stars.

The love of his life had honeyed eyes that only grew sweeter the more she understood his words, the more she registered his meaning. And her pupils shook with tender gratitude that he could easily recognise. Hikaru relished that expression, absorbed it like a sponge and savoured it like a dying man drunk on ambrosia.

His feet were moving, sinking deeper into the sand, creating eddies, maelstroms, and whirls.

"You're joking," were the first words out of her mouth, before the indignant splutters from the rest of the guys. Choked out, their breaths hitched and caught in their throats, lost in the storm of their minds, buried under the heroism of his sacrifice.

He was the first one that strayed further from the beach, moving deep into the waves.

They were just as star-struck by his comment, just as shocked, and maybe horribly impressed by his confidence. He knew it was an idea that had been running around in the group, scattering over their heads like whispers from a devil (or perhaps an angel).

But none had dared to take clear immediate action, none had wanted to submit to the responsibility of the end. It was an option that they didn't discuss but knew from the pain that reflected in their eyes—mirrors of the truth. It was easy critiquing another, easy to see what horrible fathers they were when they weren't looking at their own selves.

But Hikaru could face his demons and tear out his own heart, bloody and beating just for her. Even so, the hesitation was what made them unworthy, undeserving of the future, undeserving of love. And Hikaru was determined not to be like them.

He continued, struggling against the waves.

Hikaru had plenty to lose, but he couldn't lose her.

He'd spent days lying awake in bed with her eyes haunting his dreams—nightmares that forced him awake with a swallowed muffled scream. Visions that led to an onslaught of hiccups and tears that developed into a snotty nose and pain aching hard in his chest.

He realised quite quickly that life wouldn't mean anything if it meant losing her.

Breathless, he'd held his daughter so close that she'd squawked and struggled in the heat of his arms, his tears soaking in her hair. Lost, he had stared into the oblivion and pondered the truth of his own emotions, considered the answers that stood tall in his unconscious mind.

In those dreams the sea was endless, and she was sailing on a boat. He was bawling as he swam desperately after her, struggling as he was dragged back to shore. His arms flailed and sea water was everywhere: his mouth, his nose, in his lungs. And yet he couldn't get any closer, couldn't reach her, couldn't call her.

He couldn't even tell her he loved her.

She left with the silhouette of others. The ghosts of people who would raise their child—better parents that were present and available, and there. A person that could hold her when she needed them to. Hikaru couldn't let that happen. He refused to let that happen.

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