Day 5

Joe's funeral was today.

Technically, it was a memorial service. We never found his body, and so we weren't able to have a proper funeral. But it was almost the same. The four of us stood there, in ill-fitting black clothes scrounged up from God-knows-where, staring blankly at the memorial stone that was somehow supposed to convey our overwhelming grief.

Giorgio Asakura, friend and comrade

I suppose, when it comes down to it, that's a perfect description of Joe. He was loyal to us, his friends and comrades. Whatever his motivations to defeat Galactor, and God knows he had plenty, he always made sure we were safe. He'd stick his neck on the line every time if any of us were in trouble.

Why couldn't I see that he was the one in trouble?

I had had suspicions of course, and I had even tried to beat it out of him with my fists, but he had refused to talk.

I should have made him talk.

I had done it before, on the Marine Satan, and it had helped him. Why hadn't he trusted me to help him again?

These self-recriminatory thoughts were running through my head as Dr. Nambu spoke. His voice sounded as it always did: dry and composed. But when the light fell on his face in a certain way, I could tell that his eyes and cheeks were wet.

Jun stood next to me, inches away but miles apart. Usually when she's upset, she turns to me for comfort: throwing herself into my arms or burying her face in my chest. But today she was standing apart from me, her arms around Jinpei. He was trying to pretend that he was too big for that kind of mothering, but I could tell by his face that he needed her.

I need her too.

That need coursed through me, even as I was standing next to her. I needed her sympathy; I needed her understanding.

I needed her love.

But she was too focused on Jinpei. I was too focused on myself. Dimly, I noted her knees trembling, but when she weakened, crumpling toward the ground, it was Ryu who caught her. He gently propped her back up, but she could barely look at the rest of us. Dr. Nambu stopped speaking and came over, offering to take her home.

I just stood there, numbly staring into space, feeling unworthy of even offering my assistance. After all, the last friend I had tried to help had ended up dead.

Now, hours later, I am still wearing most of my borrowed suit, but I have removed the jacket, leaving it in my car, along with my tie. I stand outside the Snack Jun, debating the wisdom of entering.

Part of me wants to go inside, sit down and have a drink, reveling in the normalcy of that action. But then, having a drink in the J will never be the same again. I can't expect to see Joe entering the bar at any moment. There will always be an empty space at the Snack, occupying the stool next to me.

As I stand there, the lights inside go dark. I blink for a moment, not expecting this turn of events. It is early yet, and a Friday night to boot. Jun wouldn't be closing this early.

But she is. I walk up to the door, just in time to catch a glimpse of Jun through the window as she moves up the stairs.

I turn around, leaning heavily against the door as I sigh in frustration. Jun must be worse off than I had imagined, if she isn't even opening the Snack. During the war, no matter how tired she was, she always opened the J whenever possible.

But not tonight.

I gently attempt to open the door, but it is locked. Defeated, I turn to go.

And yet… part of me wants to stay, all the same. The part of me that knows that Jun is in there, all alone with her grief.

But then, who am I to intrude upon her? Wouldn't she just resent my appearance? It's not like she couldn't contact me, if she wanted to.

Defeated, I slump down to the sidewalk, seating myself awkwardly on the curb, staring at the gold faceplate on my bracelet, willing it to activate… desperate to hear her voice. To hear her ask for me.

But that call never comes.

I don't know how long I have been sitting there, but it slowly enters my consciousness that the sky has gotten dark. Another day is coming to an end.

Another day without Joe.

Another day without Jun.

Is this what I was fighting for? This lonely, empty feeling inside of me? I've lost my father, I've lost my best friend, and it seems like I've lost the only woman I have ever wanted to be with.

I need to see her.

I stand up slowly, brushing the dirt from my pants, before walking around the side of the building. Jun's room is in the back corner, on the second floor, and she has a small balcony leading off of it. It's barely enough room for a single person to stand, but I can see the sliding door that provides access between the outside and Jun's room.

It's open.

Before I can think better of what I'm doing, I jump up, catching the edge of the balcony with my hands, and easily vaulting myself upward, flipping around so that I land in a standing position on the balcony.

The curtains are fluttering in a soft breeze, and gently I push them aside, peeking into the room.

"Jun?"

My only answer is a soft sob.

She's there, lying on her bed, her body facing the wall. She trembles as another sob emerges from her throat, but she does not acknowledge my presence.

"Jun?"

Again, there is no response.

"Are you okay?"

She is shaking, but other than the occasional sob, Jun is completely silent. I hesitate only a moment before approaching her, placing my hand on her shoulder. She moans, turning slightly, and I can see that her eyelids are closed, although they are twitching and trembling. My gaze falls on her nightstand, and I see a bottle of pills there. I pick up the plastic container, squinting as I read the label in the dim light.

Triazolam Eszopiclonate, prescribed by Dr. Kozaburo Nambu.

Sleeping pills. No wonder she can't hear me. But isn't this medication extremely strong? Jun should be completely knocked out, not crying and moaning in her sleep. It suddenly hits me that she's having nightmares.

I have seen Jun sleeping many times. Of course, there were those few times I was in her room, but I have also seen her sleeping on the God Phoenix, and during extended missions. She has never been a restless sleeper, or someone who would have trouble falling asleep.

Not until now.

"No…" she mumbles, and I hear another sob. The heartbreaking sound tears through me.

"It's all right, Jun." I tell her. "I'm here." And to my surprise, her eyelids stop twitching. She seems to calm down.

"I'm here, Jun. I won't let anything happen to you."

My hand is still on her shoulder, but it moves down her arm, to where it lies on her waist. I lean closer, almost lying across the bed, doing my best to embrace her in this awkward position.

Her breathing evens, and within a few moments, all is peaceful in her room.

It's time for me to go. If she awoke, and discovered that I was here…

But as I move my hand away from her arm, she moans again, turning clumsily. Her sleeping face bears an expression of distress.

"Don't go…" she mumbles.

I can't go now. I know I should, but I surrender to this moment of weakness. Joe's death has inflicted more pain on me than I could ever have imagined, even more than my father's death. I need to be with Jun as much as she needs to be with me.

Awkwardly, I slide onto the bed, lying next to her, wrapping my arm around her waist. Jun sighs, snuggling up against me, the softness of her backside pressing up against the hardness of my hips. My body reacts, but in her state of slumber, she doesn't seem to notice. Within a minute, she has drifted back into deeper sleep, breathing softly and peacefully again.

And a minute after that, so have I.