Well I spent this week getting way too intensely into Japanese dramas. But Love in Tokyo was cute and I adored it, even though Naoki is an emotionally-constipated ass. I feel like if we could actually see inside his head, it might humanize him a bit, so here you go.
TL;DR: I have too many feelings
Enjoy!
We're never going to be okay. We're never, ever going to be okay.
Naoki slammed his head against the bedroom door and then kicked it for good measure. Then again. And again. And again. And with every kick the horrible word resounded in his brain:
Never.
Never.
Never.
It was his fault. He knew that. He would never be what she needed, but god, he wanted to be. But what she needed was somebody...more like her.
Keita was more like her. At least he was just about as loud as her, and with almost as little sense of propriety.
Damn his own sense of propriety. The propriety that had kept him from punching Keita straight in the teeth every time he looked at Kotoko. The propriety that had kept him from running after her that night...and just now. Or maybe that had just been pride. Pride and anger.
Jealousy.
That's what Kinnosuke said it was. Naoki supposed he ought to know.
He couldn't dwell on that though. His thoughts were racing, providing belated answers to every single word she had screamed at him. He was brilliant, a genius, but not when it really mattered. Not when it came to keeping Kotoko.
He was going to lose her. He probably deserved to lose her, if that was how she felt. He had answers, but no explanations.
Yes, I love you.
You idiot, of course I love you.
And I married you because I loved you. I loved you then and I loved you now and I will always, always love you.
Come back.
He could say all those things; he could say them from now to the rest of eternity, but that wouldn't explain why she didn't know they were true and that...that was his fault. And if he couldn't find a way to let her know...he was going to lose her. Lose her to Keita, like he'd almost lost her to Kinnosuke, just because she knew they loved her.
But they didn't love her like he did. They didn't understand...it sounded awful but they didn't understand how much she loved him.
And if they didn't understand that, they didn't understand her.
Keita...Keita had told her to leave him. That was proof enough he didn't understand. She could never leave him...
Even if she should.
The thought hit him like a thunderbolt and he went reeling backwards, stumbling against the desk and falling heavily to the ground.
When he had said she should go home with Keita, he hadn't meant it of course. He had been angry; it had been a moment of weakness.
Except not a moment. He was still weak. Too weak to go after Kotoko, to apologize, to admit that he didn't deserve her love and beg for it anyway.
He had always taken it for granted. He still could if he wanted; she would still love him tomorrow and tomorrow and every single day after that, because that was just...her. And he had abused that honor, that privilege, that gift, abused it horribly.
She should leave him.
She should leave, but if she did, he couldn't go on.
Something was rising in his chest, something hard and painful and...suddenly his entire body heaved and he choked on nothing. His shoulders hitched, and then they wouldn't stop, but only shook more violently. He buried his face in his arms and sobbed.
He loved her. He loved her and he was going to lose her, unless he did something, did something right now. He stood, wiping his eyes on his sleeves. He needed to go, needed to find her. Where could she be?
He analyzed the possibilities all the way down the stairs, but there were more than a few places she could have gone, and some twenty-odd reasons why she would or would not choose any one of them. His heart began pounding again, and he ran a hand roughly through his hair, determined not to panic but feeling close to it anyway.
Was she okay? What if she got hurt?
What if she didn't come home?
The phone rang, and he heard his mother call out.
"No!" he shouted, racing to the table. "I've got it! Don't answer it!"
He picked up, and struggled to keep his voice controlled.
"Hello."
"Kotoko is here."
Her father's voice on the other end of the line was like an answered prayer. When he finished telling Naoki what was going on-she was fine, she was spending the night at Chris', but she was fine, not to worry-all Naoki could manage was a "thank-you," but it was heavy with all the other things he meant when he said it.
She wasn't coming home tonight, but she was safe. She was with friends.
And Naoki would see her tomorrow. And by god, he would make it okay.
They would be okay.