Work Text:
I’ve gazed intently at your resolute face among the screens displayed in the hospital. For some reason, seeing you sick there has left a huge hole in my chest—making me feel sick and suffocated by feelings I’ve been trying to forget. Is this what was meant by that sacred vow spoken between your lips?
“…for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, Rei.”
Maybe I’m a pathetic person, shamelessly trying to find the good in every flaw you have. But it feels like with every flower that blooms, my hope soars. Every time Fuyumi says your name, my heart beats faster—I don’t know what it means. Though it’s hard to forget every vile mark on the canvas of my life, it’s not hard to grow two flowers on a single stem. Perhaps this is the curse whispered by the devil on our silent nights. Or perhaps God’s messenger is kindly blessing us.
It feels like I can’t accept it. If you truly want to destroy me, destroy me until all that remains is a breath between your rough hands. Why would you willingly kill yourself just for that meaningless pride? Perhaps that is what is already written in the lines of our palms, smudged with a life not as soft as silk. You, so stubborn, and your ambition, passionately entwined with the devil in the heat of hell. Me, so weak, and my sorrow embraced by an angel amidst the heat of the hell I chose for my own fate.
Enji.
Win, and grin with that suffocating victory of yours. Don’t show that face of despair again, Enji.
So, let me slip a prayer for victory into every corner of your lips, amidst the breath in your burning hands. Let the raindrops carry you to the glory you’ve longed for. Let the wind blow away all your weariness, and whisper every bit of my love.
So, let me weave a prayer for your safety into every tear of the night. Let me be the one to praise God for the success that will bless every line of your aging face. Please win for me, Enji.
-Rei, your wife.