I turn my head, shifting slightly against his chest so that I can look up at him, look at his face. His hair is all messy from sweat and sex (I'm sure mine doesn't look much better), his cheeks still slightly flushed. His heartbeat has settled, but his skin is still warm, almost hot.

This moment would be a perfect moment of quiet intimacy, if only I didn't feel like I'm falling apart. If only there weren't still salty trails down my temples. If only I could tell him I love him the way he tells me.

I do love him, don't I? That's why I... why I died for him.

I reach up and brush my fingers over Eiji's cheek, there's a little bit of stubble there, and the difference in texture feels interesting. Touching things, experiencing things, through my own body is still a trip sometimes. I don't understand how humans always take their senses for granted.

"I don't even really know what's wrong," I finally say, frowning apologetically at him. "It's not just one thing, it's all kinds of things. And I can't find the words for any of them."