He didn’t open his eyes.
It was cold—extremely cold—in what was probably the last morning of midwinter, when it seemed even the sun couldn’t rise. Ryuuji had enclosed his feet under the covers that his body heat warmed overnight. He lay on his side, both his hands covering his eyes. He was sure the bedding beside him was mounded up from Yasuko being under the covers.
He could tell by the sound and the feeling of her presence that Taiga was standing in the doorway after gently opening the door. He knew the faint clinks were from the metal fittings of the bag she had slung across her body.
Ryuuji, Taiga called his name in a small voice like she was scared.
Ryuuji didn’t move.
Ryuuji, she called one more time. She waited just a bit and then clearly called him again. When Ryuuji didn’t move the third time she called his name, Taiga seemed to accept it. “Well, I’m headed out for a bit.”
The floorboards squeaked faintly. Quietly, she closed the door. Slowly, she went down the stairs. She placed her shoes on the entryway tile. She stuck her feet into them and opened the door.
She opened the gate.
Ryuuji thought to himself that it was fine this way.
This town really was quiet. For a while, he could hear the sound of footsteps traveling under a chilly sky. At first, those footsteps seemed bewildered, but before long, he heard them gain their usual cadence until, in the end, they were outright running. The sound of the soles of her shoes firmly hitting the asphalt rang out and receded into the distance.
Her footsteps faded away.
Ryuuji remained immobile in his bed. He still had his eyes closed.
“A-are you—” Yasuko was the first to fling off her covers and get up. “Ryuu-chan! Are you actually, really fine with this…?”
This is fine—was what he wanted to say. But he couldn’t. Though Ryuuji knew it was fine this way, he couldn’t open his eyes.
Taiga needed to go back to her parents.
That was because Taiga loved them.
She didn’t need to run away from home.
Taiga had shown she didn’t need her parents by cutting them out. If she exposed herself to love, she would break, and because she found that frightening, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to seek it out until now. Taiga cried because the amount of love she received was nothing compared to the love she gave. Taiga didn’t believe she was allowed to dream big. She was bound by the fear that something would be taken from her in exchange for the crime of wanting the love she was not allowed.
But now things were different.
Taiga’s arms and legs were free. Now that she was released, she could run anywhere she wanted.
She should understand that, no matter what she loved or whom she loved, nothing would be taken from her. Taiga should know now, that her heart was free to love. She could love the world she lived in with all her heart and, more than anyone, she could love herself. She didn’t need to abandon anything or have anything taken from her.
That was why this was—
“Ryuu-chan…!”
This was fine. He really did understand it all.
Ryuuji sat up in bed so he could answer Yasuko this time. He opened his eyes, breathed in, and raised his head. Then he saw the world.
He realized that Taiga was gone. In that winter morning, in a room lined with nothing but objects, he realized he was sitting in the middle of that reality. He tried to say it was fine.
“I think—”
But.
He was alone in this world.
Ryuuji was living—all alone.
Taiga wasn’t there.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t yell anything. He felt smashed to pieces. He felt like he had exploded. Sparks fired on the insides of his eyelids and absurd thoughts ran through his mind. His heart was pounding with a terrific amount of energy. Aaah, he groaned. Everything really is going to break. This won’t work, this is…it’s…it’s—
“Ryuu-chan!”
When Yasuko firmly grabbed his shoulders, he looked into her face. It was bright red, and tears dribbled down her face. Her hair was standing on end as fragments of her broken world came down on her from all directions, and she trembled like she was about to explode from the feelings erupting in her—Ryuuji thought, looking at her, that this had to be what his own face looked like.
No.
He kicked off the bedcovers and dashed outside.
Still in his pajamas, he nearly tumbled down the stairs. Still barefoot, he jumped out of the entryway, pushing open the door Taiga had left through. He flew through the gate into the outside world. He plunged into his new solitude on his own.
There was no one in the street as he looked around—just himself. Ryuuji frantically covered his mouth with his shaking hands. Unable to bear the words he was about to say and the name he was about to call out, he bit his lip as hard as he could. The bone-chilling wind blew against him, tearing into his skin. The midwinter sun still hadn’t risen all the way, and the sky was heavy and oppressive as it embraced the cold.
His body started to run. His heart also started to race. His soul was screaming at him not to go. He tried to stop his body. He couldn’t stop his heart. It was too late to stop.
He understood it, he really did, but his heart was calling madly for Taiga. It yearned and yelled for their worlds to join. Are you really going to leave, Taiga? Are you really going to shake free from this intense power and run?
Was she able to keep moving because, no matter how far she ran, she knew their worlds would come back together at some point?
Had she really found the power and the confidence to believe that?
Ryuuji wiped away the tears flowing down his face. He already knew he wouldn’t be able to catch up to her. This is fine. He told himself that, but his feet kept moving even as his stolen heart continued to weep. Taiga was no longer in this town. He couldn’t catch up with her anymore.
He knew he should have the same power and belief she did. He knew he should be able to accept everything in his world, and to love Taiga, and for her to love him.
It was cold. In the early morning of that quiet town, Ryuuji’s white breath leapt into the air.