Should you loose yourself, Behind lies of which slip easy form your lips, Buried beneath secrets long over kepted, I will search for you. Between the sting of salt from tears, And tides of feels longed ignored, Guided by truths only you and I knew I will rescue you.

Raft line from you to me, Amidst chaos, I feel your presence within my sea. Secrets shared between you and I, I cherish our similarities and our lies. Beneath deafening waters, I await your hand Without hesitation you jumped in. Life line drowned between us in raging tides, I know I’m the cause for your demise.

Ash stares at the thousand pieces shattered across the floor. The laughter died after the ear-piercing crash of the vase hitting the floor. Ash’s neck stings with embarrassment, nerves, and lastly, guilt.

He broke Àmir’s beloved vase.

It’s like the thought alone is enough to summon the man. Ash has to tell himself to breath as Àmir kneels beside him quietly.

Inhale. Exhale. Damnit.

Ash falters in his breathing technique, usually used to quell his anger, not doing so great to quell his nerves. He peeks a glance at Àmir who’s reaching for a piece.

“‘Mir,” Ash exhales. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to break it.”

Àmir looks to him then. “It’s okay.” He sets a hand on Ash’s shoulder. Don’t worry about it.” He flashes Ash a small smile. No concealed anger, no contempt, not even the subtle signs of ‘we’ll talk later’. Nothing. Ash moves to help grab recoverable pieces too. Beside him Àmir is quiet,but Ash feels something is off. Behind them, their friends carry on their own conversations awkwardly then forcibly keep talking until it’s natural. Ash feels slightly better with the background noise, it widens the world back out to the friendly get together and not Ash’s monumental screw up.

In the mist of the conversation, just as Ash leaves to retrieve a broom for the more unfortunate pieces, Rashi comes over discreetly. He starts a conversation with Àmir in their native language. Ash doesn’t need to be fluent to know Rashi is doing a rain check, asking Àmir if he’s alright. Hot embarrassment furls in Ash’s stomach, that’s a question he should’ve asked Àmir himself.

Eventually the floor is clean, and the get-together comes to an end. Everyone bids their goodbye, and Ash is the last to go. He apologizes again.

“It fine.” Àmir dismisses with a soft smile. “Don’t worry about it.” Then he frowns. “You’re not staying over?”

That was the initial plan but Ash couldn’t bring himself to do it, not after…. “No…”

Àmir dawns a knowing look, but doesn’t say anything about it. “Alright. Goodnight, Ash.”

“Goodnight, Àmir.”

He leaves, and Àmir’s words, ‘don’t worry’, bounce around in his head. Despite the reassurance, Ash thinks of every way possible to repair that vase to make it up to him.

Its two weeks after the incident Ash has the opportunity to retrieve the porcelain pieces without Àmir around to see him. He only gets his key into the lock when the door is opening on its own and scaring Ash within an inch of his life. His swears colorfully trying to yank his key away to dash down the hall, then swears with relief when Rashi steps out instead.

“Ash! Y’scared me. Thought you were ‘Mir.” Rashi deflates, shifting a bit. “What’re you doing?”

Ash squints at him. “Nothing. What are you doing here?”

“Nothing.” They both hum at each other, akin to the way one hums when calling out a lie but playing along anyway. One long, drawn out hum later, Rashi shifts and bids Ash farewell.

Two months after the incident, their friends have another get-together. Ash arrives first, cause after weeks trying to find an identical vase, and more weeks trying to find places that can repair them, Ash decided he would just ask Àmir where he got the vase from, and come clean about his worrying. Secrets weren’t for him, that was Àmir’s thing.

When Ash arrived, with a box containing a slice of shortcake for Àmir, he nearly dropped it upon it seeing the new vase. It looked like the old one, but there was gold highlighting it cracks, but joining the remaining pieces together. Luckily, Àmir was there to save the box before that became the second momental screw up at the apartment.

“What….?” Ash trails off, staring at the vase.

“You worried over it, didn’t you?” Àmir sets the cake aside. “Even when I said not to.”

“How could I not?” Ash huffs. “Why fix it like this?”

Àmir smiles. “I think it looks better like this, its more beautiful with its scars and flaws shown.” Àmir goes to grab the vase, then brings it back to Ash. “That said. I want to give this to you. Let it be a symbol of what we came from and where we are now.”

Ash looks down at the vase. “Okay.” He stares at the gold between white, highlighting the cracks but enhancing its strength. He embraces the symbolism.

Her name was Cherry. Well, no, not really. Her real name was Sakura, she told me it means ‘cherry blossom’. When I tried it out, wanting to see how it rolls off my tongue, (“sock-ooh-rah”), she giggled, slid me a glass of water and said, “Just call me Cherry”. We had met at the bar, and amidst my attempts to drown in the liquor, she had been a breath of fresh air. Vital but fleeting, she was gone the next minute, and I was left downing the glass of water, looking into its reflection trying to see her life raft keeping me afloat. I hoped I would see her again.

The next time I came to drown in the liquor, it was a cloudy day outside. Even though there wasn’t rain, the day’s stress and mistakes felt like a downpour upon my head, weighing down every step. I slid into a stool and ordered a neat of whatever my missed check could acquire. Someone took the seat beside me, with a ghost of cool fingers along my shoulder drawing a hitch in my breath. Cherry.

She laughed softly at my shock then smiled and slid me a water, just like the first time. Like sunshine peaking through the clouds, I was drawn to her warmth. She didn’t leave this time, she stayed by me. We talked, each word warming me up. She told me about her home and her studies while I avoided telling her why I was trying to get wasted in the first place. I wasn’t doing great on that front; she called me out with a knowing look in her eyes and a smirk on her. At that time my initial order was placed by me. I still reached for the water.

Her eyes darted from the glass to me, a grin, spreading across her face. I couldn’t stop the smile from breaking across mine in return. Feeling bold and a bit sheepish I leaned forward. She leaned back with a mischievous glint in her eye, and drummed her fingers in the space between us playfully. I averted my gaze for a moment with a huff, then reached out for her hand. I changed actions last second to rest it beside her, rubbing the back of my neck with the other and ignoring the burning of my ears, “It was nice seeing you again. You… you’re- can I-“.

Cherry raises an eyebrow at me with a slight tilt of her head and a teasing smile on her lips. I continue, resisting the urge to tug at my collar. “Can I get to know you more? Perhaps, outside the bar?”

Cherry leans forward, her hand on the bar moving to cover mine. With the other she hands me a slip of paper. With a smile, she replies, “Sure.”

Relaxation awaits, commence the sign in Comfort achieved, reach remote for action Halt! New news. Information skim begin! Crunchyroll merging with Funimation!

Surprise, despair, hope, and more mixed feeling Good, bad, benefits, drawbacks, weigh them all Quick scan of other reviews, fans are reeling Is that okay? Is it really a good call?

Dubbed or exclusive shows, debate no more Strife of anime streams, no loss all win? Together, more arrivals to explore Remote in hand, exploration begin!

The legend of two streams, now one platform One destination to stream, a new norm.

Rashi sets a brisk walk down the street to the graveyard. He’s walked so many times it’s all muscle memory by now. It’s leaves his mind too much space to process the anger within him.

“Who are these for?” Àmir inquiries, handing him the flowers Rashi asked him to pick up. “Hisao.” Rashi slings a bag over his shoulders, and takes the flowers eyeing Àmir cautiously. Àmir cocks his head. “Who’s that?” Rashi has never felt a blind rage build in him so quickly. He leaves before he can do anything too rash.

“Who’s that,” Rashi scoffs, voice full of disdain. “How dare he.” By now, he’s reached the arch to the graveyard, inside he navigates his way to the back where a small stone slab holds a small red and white vase. Below it, a golden plague reads: ‘Hisao, a kindness to be remembered and a memory to forever cherish’.

Rashi stares at the vase as his anger fades into pain. He sighs as a voice plays in his head. ‘Cherish our history.’ Rashi feels a sting behind his eyes. Hisao’s last words. ‘Don’t ever forget me.’ ‘Of course.’ Rashi hears his younger self. He remembers Àmir by his side, a seldom nod in response as Àmir cried quietly beside him.

Rashi squats down, bringing his knees to his chest, he raises a hand to slide it against the plague then sets the flowers down next to the vase. He scoffs again. “He’s forgotten you.” Rashi huffs, bitterness lacing his tone. “Asked me who you were. How dare he forget your importance! He doesn’t remember anything about you. Not your favorite flowers. Not your name. Not even what you looked like.” Rashi tries to draw the visual of Hisao in his mind, but it’s like reaching through thick fog for a light. He jolts, then falters as he continues. “He. He doesn’t remember what you’ve done. For me. For him. None of it. Awful isn’t it?” “He doesn’t even remember we wrote this together,” Rashi gazes at the plague ruefully, “I’ll be honest, I might have forgotten how you look.” Rashi chuckles humorlessly. “But at least I remember who put these words here.”

Rashi stares dazedly at the vase before he continues. “It’s hurts. It’s hurts a lot seeing him forget you, your kindness, your everything. But,” Rashi sinks to his knees, the sting behind his eyes building, lining them with tears. He chokes, burying his face in his hands, he cries. “But, it hurts more knowing I, too, have forgotten you.”

Inhale. It’s a shout from above A quick demand of attention Winding down becomes a sprint for the window Down below the streets are alive The first exhale taken at all this year.

Children are gathered, friends are huddled Families are close, and partners are inseparable The tv is blearing, but it’s not our focus Outside, neighbors pull chairs, others line their windows Lighters at the ready, boxes in position, they wait A quick inhale, baited breaths, we await the countdown Eyes on the sky, clear, no clouds in sight It’s been a year, a mix of things we can’t name An exhale, we set the sky alight, and enjoy the next day.