How Little It Meant
I was sitting in the passenger seat, arms crossed over my chest and glare focused out the window. I'd long since given up on telling Yuuma that I didn't want to travel any further, to take me back home immediately, because I knew he wouldn't listen. I'd been trying that for how long now? The clock was analog in his car, and I had no clue how to read it. In any case, what did it matter how long it had been? I'd continue in my stubborn silence until he finally gave up and released me.
Outside the window were leaf-green trees, unbe-leaf-ably green as Piko would say, and trunks of the richest brown. It was thanks to Piko that I could appreciate these bright beauties, I thought as I glanced at Yuuma in my peripherals. I looked at the analog clock, trying not to let it bother me that I had no idea how much time had passed since this ride had started. I looked out the window again, throwing my irritability at Yuuma in what I hoped was a palpable slap. He didn't react, though, much to my annoyance, so I continued to sit in cross silence.
Yuuma didn't like it, he told me, how obsessed I'd become with Piko. "Mayu," he'd told me, "You need to realize that there's more to life than him." He didn't get it, though, did he? Yuuma was in love with Miki, and she loved him back. I loved Piko, and he didn't know if he loved me back yet. But if I tried harder, Piko would understand my feelings, if Yuuma would simply let us be.
Why did I love Piko, Yuuma had once asked me? Well, obviously, because of everything that was him. What was there not to love? He hadn't accepted that answer, though, and had asked for something more specific. I'd had no response for him, though, and I'd simply walked away. He didn't understand, and he never would.
The greens blurred by and were replaced with grey-blue as we flew across a bridge. I glanced at the clock again. Usually, here and now, I'd know where Piko was, what he was doing. What time was it? Was it 7:00 A.M., when Piko took his shower? Was it 11:15, when he'd go out to buy himself lunch? Could already be 5:30, when club activities were over and Piko was on his way home? In my restlessness, I prodded Yuuma once more, and, when he glanced at me, I questioned, now pitiful, "What time is it?" And, again, Yuuuma just looked away from me and kept on driving.
I'd told Piko I loved him several times, and each time he'd smile kindly and ask me to wait a little longer while he thought about it. I'd always smile and agree with him, because I knew he needed to think about it. And those other girls that always surrounded him, they were nothing. Sure, they went home with him sometimes, but when I'd panicked and asked him, he'd insisted that it was only for tutoring. I trusted him, of course, because what was love without trust?
Ah, the sky was turning the same pink as Piko's blush everytime Mi-
No, what was I thinking? That never happened, of course.
I turned my face toward Yuuma and argued, "This is forcible kidnapping, Yuuma. I could call the cops and get you arrested."
He just glanced toward me and responded calmly, "If you had your phone, you wouldn't have to ask me for the time."
I scowled at his accuracy and then argued, "I'll call as soon as I'm out of this car."
Yuuma looked at me, a touch of sadness strumming the guilt in my heart, and murmured, "If you really want you, Mayu, I won't stop you."
I frowned, knowing I would never truly do that to Yuuma, and looked out crossly at the sunset. Ah, the pink really did look like that, didn't it? It really did look like his face every time he saw Miki.
No no no. I shook my head. That was crazy. I was delusional. What was I thinking, seriously? It was this car ride, wasn't it? This car ride was driving me crazy.
We reached a train crossing, and Yuuma halted at the blinking red light warning us of an arriving train. It was an orange-y red, similar to the colour of Piko's walls. And that yellow sign with the picture of a train, in case we didn't get it already, the lamp on his bedside table had been that colour too, hadn't it?
I had to blink rapidly to clear my vision. It was blurry for some reason, and my eyes felt hot. My head was hurting a little, feeling constricted. Meanwhile, Yuuma had the car moving again along the dark grey pavement. I remembered driving passenger seat in Piko's car once, and he'd smiled so kindly at me. But, no, his smile hadn't been kind. It had been sly, devilish and broken. I'd seen that sadness in his eyes, but I'd refused to believe it. I could make him happier than she could make him sad, I'd told myself as he'd led me up to his bedroom.
No, no. I stared resolutely out the window. Piko had never looked like that, he'd never done that. He'd been sweet, he hadn't kissed me when he didn't love me, my first kiss was still in my possession while I waited for him to return my love.
Why was my face suddenly wet? Why was my nose running? I wiped my face on my arm, stubbornly ignoring Yuuma's gaze on me. I didn't need his sympathy, because it had never happened. No, fine, it had happened. He'd kissed me, but that was it. There was no way he'd murmured to me and asked me for more, no way he'd told me it would help him love me and get over her, no way he'd spent the entire time saying her name, imagining her there instead of me. There was no way he'd held me down when I said I wasn't her and that I wanted to stop, no way he'd told me that he loved me when I knew he didn't mean it. There was no way, no way, no way any of it had ever happened. There was no way.
And yet here I was, unable to stop myself from sobbing in the passenger seat of that car as Yuuma continued driving. He didn't say anything to me as I cried, didn't reach out to comfort me. Instead, he continued driving as I slowly ran out of tears and reduced to snivelling, and I didn't care about the clock anymore.
The sun had set, and the stars were shining, shining like Yuuma's eyes when he told me that Piko had forced a kiss on Miki not long ago. They were shining like Yuuma's eyes when I had slapped him and yelled that Piko loved me, he'd said so when I'd tried to leave that night that I hadn't told Yuuma about. After he'd held me down, after he was done using me, he'd told me that he was sorry and that he really did love me, that he was done with Miki now and he wanted me. I hadn't said anything to him when he'd said that. I hadn't said anything until the next day, when I'd made Yuuma's eyes shine and he'd grabbed me and made me drive all this way with him.
I knew I wasn't the first. I'd been warned by so many others. Piko would never love anyone but Miki, and all other girls were toys to him. I knew it, but I denied it, because I loved him. I loved him, right?
No, that was wrong, and I realized it long ago. It was never Piko I loved. I loved love. I loved the idea of loving Piko. I loved the idea of Piko.
Somewhere along the road, at exactly what hour into the road trip, I wasn't sure, I began to realize how little I needed him in my life. And, so, I sat quietly for the rest of the car ride. The time didn't matter. Where I was going didn't matter. I just wanted to drive until sunrise, so that I could greet the new day with a smile. Yesterday was over, and it could only get better from here, right? I told Yuuma this, and he smiled so sweetly at me and offered his agreement.
Author's Note: Based on the prompt "Somewhere along the road, at exactly what hour into the road trip I'm not sure, I began to realize how little I needed him in my life" that showed up in my Tumblr feed and demanded I write it. I think I love Mayu a little too much, btw.
Disclaimer: I don't hate Piko. I don't hate any of the Vocaloids. I portray them all in a bad light at least once in a while. (I'm putting this disclaimer because I've found people tend to think I hate a character when I make them villain-like.)