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Shisui died that night
Akane was so lost.
It surprised her the most that she didn't have a hysterical breakdown. She was so stressed, yes, but somehow, calm . . . Having a mental breakdown, but in a very quiet, disassociated way. She couldn't explain what was she feeling, maybe . . . Perhaps, her mind was still absorbing the fact that Shisui wasnow dead. It was literally eating her on the inside, to the point where she couldn't comprehend if she was going to be the same again.
It got to be a sick joke.
When Akane was still in the Academy, and Shisui would have an off from his mission, he would pick up her from school to take her for another training and buy her snacks afterward. Occasionally, he would help Akane work in the farmlands and harvest the crops together. Eat lunch with the farmers, go to a stream to catch fish, pick fruits from somebody's house, or teach Shisui about herbals. He would ask her where she would want to go, the questions she wanted to be answered, what she ate for breakfast, what was the book she was reading . . . She remembered them all. Many memories . . . Many, many more.
Shisui was a kind soul, and Akane loved him so much. It was a harsh fact, but she loved Shisui more than her parents; it would come out so naturally for she spent a lot more time with him than them. He helped her to get through her unceasing sadness and even taught her how to accept herself and how beautiful it was to be alive. He was always the person she would call when she was having a hard time with her Hiraishin training, or when she had problems with school,classmates, or even when she and Itachi had a little argument. He was always the one she called or talked to because he genuinely listened and cared.
She couldn't stop despairing, just thinking how he reached out to so many people, how he accomplished his missions to protect every villager, and yet, nobody was there when he needed help . . . Worst, the very village itself was the one who killed him. She promised herself to be stronger so that she would be able to protect him and Itachi, that she didn't want them to go through pain again . . . What an irony.
Just like yesterday, he took her for a walk, talked about her follies, and eased her overthinking mind. Oh dear, she even fixed her door he deliberately broke.
She was just holding him yesterday, slept by his side . . . But those memories felt so distant anymore.
Akane wished that she told him enough how much she loved him and gave him all the support she could. Oh, how she wished that it was already enough for him.
Oh, Gods—she prayed—only if she knew that yesterday was her final conversation with him, she couldn't have let him go. She didn't even give her a proper goodbye.
Now, there would be a lot of things she'd miss about him.
Shisui wasn't a reader himself, but she would remember how she'd spend their free time together in the forest, flipping through the pages, then asking her what would she want for afternoon snacks. Like, when in the streets, she would find a cute cat or dog, and they would feed them together. Or, just point to the birds flying freely in the skies. And getting through the same forest as yesterday, she would catch herself calling for his name, and remind herself that he was not there anymore.
A part of her soul didn't want to believe. Shisui was a huge part of her—and that huge part of her became void . . . She would just delude herself into thinking that he is still here—that it still didn't feel real that he is gone. It was so abrupt how his life ended. This whole thing happened in less than a day. And just thinking that "huge part of her soul" that used to be a "huge piece of her soul" was now nothing but a decaying body floating in the river.
It was strange, but maybe, she would just stay believing that he was never gone. Shisui was not just in the river, because at the same time, he was everywhere else: in this forest, in the streets of Konoha, in the farmlands, in the secret cliff where they'd spend together with Itachi, or even under the tree where she would read.
Now, it made Akane realize that grief was similar to nostalgia, but it felt a lot sharper, cut a lot deeper, and drove her a lot hopeless. Shisui would always be there, but he would never be coming back.
Truly, Shisui was like her guide, and his death in the river was a reminder of how fatalistic it felt to be moved by something beyond her control.
