He wishes he could have saved his happy moments together with his partner.

He wishes he could have taken a camera and captured each moment in a frame, trapping it in there forever.

He longs for more of those touches, those hugs, those soothing words.

But all he gets is loneliness, attacking him from every corner. He's isolated himself from the world, locked himself in his room for more than a week.

He knows its unhealthy to cope like this, but there's no way he can bear to face the outside world again.

His curtains are drawn shut, and he sits in the corner of his bed with his knees tucked in.

There are seven missed calls on his phone. He has ignored them all - cut off contact with his friends.

Get up. His brain tells him. Get up and go outside for once.

But he doesn't want to. It'll just make it worse. The sunshine, the clouds, the wind, the fresh air, the everything. It will all remind him of-

He buries his head between his knees, tears burning beneath the back of his eyes.

A sudden memory resurfaces, one of pale skin, pink cheeks, and a tinged red nose. He remembers tossing a snowball at his partner, laughing hysterically when it hit the back of his head.

His partner had let out a colorful string of profanities, crouching down to avenge himself.

They played outside for the entire duration of the day, peppering each other with snowballs.

After they had exhausted themselves of this activity, they lay on the ground, out of breath, and made snow angels and miniature snowmen.

That had been the last winter he'd spent with his partner.

His partner had left on New Year's Eve.

He hadn't even the chance to say goodbye nor confess his feelings.

Gut-wrenching sobs rack his body as his voice attempts to spit out something in a feeble attempt to apologize.

Guilt gnaws at his soul like a termite would to wood, eating it away piece by piece.

He wants to go back and apologize for everything he's done and everything he hasn't done yet.

Despite his urge to stay at home and feel remorse over his actions, he gets up, off the bed, and grabs his jacket and scarf.

He wants to see his partner one last time before he leaves as well.

The frigid air stabs through his jacket and into his skin when he steps out of his apartment complex. Night has fallen upon Yokohama, the street lights illuminating the dark sidewalks.

He makes his way, slowly, to the graveyard, his legs like lead as he drags his unwilling body to the place he vowed never to visit again.

On the way, he buys a single rose, thorns removed and all. He thanks the lady at the cashier politely, and continues his journey.

Though there is no electricity in the graveyard, lanterns are placed beside headstones.

He finds the row quickly, having memorized it during the funeral. His knees quake as he kneels down and places the rose upon the cold marble.

He wants to apologize, to say something to his partner. The words are stuck inside his throat, clinging to the walls, refusing to come out of his mouth.

His courage dwindles, and he gives up after several minutes of kneeling and staring.

His lips are too frozen to move, anyway.

He doesn't look over his shoulder when he leaves the graveyard for the last time.

~

He arrives at the train station promptly at 10.

The trains are still running, bringing home workers and people alike.

He stands near the seats, staring off into the tracks. A draft of wind blows past him and he clutches his jacket tighter around his body.

Another memory resurfaces, this time when they were high schoolers, waiting for their train to go home.

He had started teasing his partner mercilessly, saying how short he was, how he should drink more milk to get taller.

Evidently, his partner had been offended, as he kicked him in the shin.

He remembered the old woman next to them on the platform, smiling at them as he teased his partner.

She had asked if they were dating, and the thought of it was ridiculous enough to send him doubling over in laughter. His partner had flushed a deep red, blubbering as he tried to say no.

At that moment, the train came, roaring on the tracks, its wheels screeching on the metal.

The woman complimented their relationship, and the train doors opened.

His partner had desperately tried to tell her that no, they weren't dating or anything of the sort.

She disappeared before his partner could finish.

His only regret that day, however, was not mustering enough courage to ask his partner out on a real date.

Now he stands on the platform, in the same place where they had stood. This time, the train station is silent, no longer bustling with people.

He smiles to himself fondly at the memory, tugging on his scarf.

A droplet of water lands on his hand, running down his wrist. More drops follow, and soon enough, it's raining heavily.

He hasn't brought an umbrella despite the weather forecast; he didn't need it anyway.

The ground shakes beneath him, and he can hear a low rumbling in the distance.

He continues standing in the rain, letting himself soak to the bone. He shudders at the temperature, but it won't matter in a few minutes.

He looks up to the sky, a smile on his face as he lets the raindrops cling to his eyelashes and travel down his face.

The rumbling grows closer, and a bright light appears in his vision.

"Goodbye," is all he says into the rain as he steps closer to the edge of the platform.

Then, he falls.