Hi: Thanks for reading. I don't think this needs to be said but very, very AU.
Don't worry about me
Don't be ridiculous
I just need you to disappear
That's all I need
-x-
Commitment means everything to Tachikawa Mimi. It's a word that means attachment, a word that has strings that she's dying to tie to someone else and refuse to let them go; it's a word that means you're taking a chance, and it's a word that has weight and worth. Commitment is a word that Mimi yearns for more than anything.
Names mean so much. They give Mimi a connection, an exchange that transcends to a personal level. It's the start of a simple bond that can grow into something beautiful, she is sure. She wants to smile at everyone she sees, bow politely and know their name. She hopes they'll be friends; hopes there will be a spark that could lead to more. She starts off boldly and then conversation flows comfortably, and she finds she can't stop asking questions.
Knowledge of one another is the foundation of a relationship.
Mimi loves waking up next to someone even if she knows that one night will be all they have shared. She is a gracious host in her own home, preparing breakfast and offering hospitality until she and her companion part ways at the front door.
-x-
Commitment means little to Yagami Taichi. It's a word that means attachment, a word that has strings dangling from it just waiting to latch onto something and refuse to let it go; it's a word that means your lying your heart out, asking for pain until you're crying for redemption. Commitment is a word that Taichi refuses to acknowledge.
Names mean too much. They give Taichi's drug of choice – woman – substance, they make them matter and he would prefer to not know them, nothing of them. He doesn't want to know their names, how old they are, or why they're trying to find their way back to his bed. He asks only asks one question: Are you clean? There's no need for much else. Because he has a way of doing things and he doesn't need attachments.
A moan can say a hundred words. A willing participant attributes to about a thousand.
Taichi hates the ones who try to stay in his bed and who are foolishly hoping for breakfast, casual conversation – seconds. He gives them nothing, he is cold and despondent. He tells them to leave because there is no room for pleasantries. They don't matter.
-x-
The air is thick and Mimi can barely breathe but it feels oddly enthralling to be moving with the throng of people, feeling bodies move against her own. It's new and exciting. She's had a few drinks but it's nothing her body can't handle. She's just loose, relaxed, yet her heart is pounding in her chest, drumming again her ribs to the sound of the bass.
This environment is not something she's used to. Here, there's no time to get to know anyone. One song blends into the next and she feels like she's been dancing for hours, only the need to refill her cup draws her from the crowd. She's at the bar in no time, joining twenty others as they thump their fists against the splinting wood bar. She there for the duration of one song before her cup is overflowing and she's pushing her way back toward the center of the dancing bodies.
Mimi ends up too close to the stage where she's losing her hearing but it doesn't matter because she finds someone to go deaf to the world with. The man had dark eyes and a seductive smile painted across his lips. His hands are large and warm when he slides them over Mimi's hips and his grip catches Mimi off guard.
"What's your name?" Mimi shouts over the music but it's a pointless effort.
The man smiles a sinful grin and tightens his grip on Mimi's ass, lifting her off the ground until those lips are caressing the shell of her ear. A slick tongue swipes over the outer rim and Mimi shivers.
-x-
Taichi wakes up to bright sunlight. His body is stiff and there's a dry splatter of white painted on his abdomen. He knows how it got there and he smiles to himself at the thought. His smile only brightens when he finds the space beside him empty and cold. He likes when he doesn't have to tell them to get out.
The shower washes away the remnants of almond eyes, pink lips shaped like an archer's bow, and soft thighs. Taichi ticks off those bed-mate characteristic from his mental checklist, very pleased with the night. He walks to the kitchen, towel slung low on his hips and halts in his steps, faltering when he sees last night's lover standing at his stove, mixing something on the stove.
Taichi sighs. This is a rare sight and just as unwelcome.
"Why are you still here?" he asks, curiosity edging along the cold words.
The woman turns to face him and she smiles. Taichi's heart thumbs twice, very off beat, very unnecessarily. It's a new feeling and Taichi pushes it away when the woman speaks, "You're awake. I was going to wake you soon to eat. I made omelets and coffee."
The swell in his chest is new and unwanted. Taichi feigns disinterest in the food, regardless of how good it smells; he stills his expression, pressing forward with his stoic poise. "Why are you still here?" Taichi repeats, tone harder than before, more insistent.
Smile falling slowly, the woman nods toward the food. "I thought you might be hungry. I'm Mimi, by the way."
"I didn't ask," Taichi tells her. He turns around, walking back toward his room. "Leave now," he demands of Mimi. He bites his tongue when he repeats the woman's name in his head.
-x-
Mimi is left with a bitter taste that she is very unfamiliar with. She's never met someone so emotionally impotent. The man was one of those that Mimi knew she was better off not remembering, better off leaving behind and storing away as a bad memory. However, it tends to be the bad memories that follow like rain clouds.
On a rainy drive home, Mimi finds herself at a stop light and a man is standing on the corner, soaked to the bone and shaking like a leaf. He's familiar and he makes something in Mimi's gut stir. Her parents raised her to be kind, and so, against better judgment, she pulls over and rolls down the passenger side window, calling out to the man whose bed she had shared days ago.
"Do you need a ride?"
The man arches an eyebrow and mouths something that Mimi can't make out. Thunder claps above them and the rain begins to fall harder.
"It's just a ride home," Mimi implores, reaching over and opening the door. She's scolds herself for being too kind as the man looks up and down the street, almost as if he's ashamed be getting into her car.
"Thank you," he says and Mimi nods, driving away from the curb and into late afternoon traffic.
It's a quiet ride, warmed by the heater which Mimi has turned up high because the man is still shivering so hard that his teeth are chattering.
"The rain caught you by surprise?" Mimi tries to start conversation, noting the way the man tenses when she speaks. They're at another red light and Mimi surveys him, noting the blue tint to his lips. The tip of his nose and his cheeks are rosy. He sneezes quietly, stifling the sound with this palm.
"I don't feel like talking."
It's a simple statement and Mimi feels herself shut down inside. She's not used to people like this; so she closes her mouth and the rest of their drive is silent.
-x-
Taichi is used to being inebriated when he drags someone back to his bed. He's used to never seeing them again. He is very unfamiliar with second glances much less kind gestures. There is no time, no room for such exchanges – not for him. Distance keeps him content and ignorance is his bliss.
He's never given anyone the opportunity to make a mark. It's nonsensical and downright stupid to let someone have such an effect on your mentality that they interrupted even the simplest of daily tasks, like a cup of coffee before the walk to the subway station. The coffee is black and bitter, refined and familiar against Taichi's palette but it's missing something, something he doesn't remember. All he knows is he's tasted it and coffee is forever ruined. It's taken to his memory and brought forth a name: Mimi.
Taichi's frustration grows with the day and those that follow. He's edgy and easily riled, showing emotion when he prided himself on his strict ethic of never engaging in more words than those needed to convey his point. It's beginning to take its toll on his ability to do his job. He decides he needs a night to himself, to forget himself. He needs another warm body trapped under his. He needs to get drunk.
He chooses a usual haunt, relaxing in the shadows as he observes. There's quite a selection tonight; he's grateful for that as he tips his head back, letting the fiery spirit coat his throat and settle in his stomach. Taichi's not one for dancing; he slithers across the dance floor, ignoring hands that touch him and voices that try to get his attention. There's someone near the bar, hands held above her head as her hips sway.
Ignoring the woman's face is intentional as Taichi sidles up behind her, gripping her hips and pulling the shorter body against his frame. They move together in a small circle, never speaking, never looking at each other.
Taichi isn't the one who drives them back to his apartment. The driver, his bedtime lover, already knows where to go.
-x-
The floor is cold when Mimi tiptoes across the wood panels and to the front door. She leaves before the other wakes up. Her self-esteem is hanging on by a thread and she can't bear to stick around for the verbal detachment she had familiarized with the man whose name she has yet to learn. Had she been with anyone else that night, she would have left a note explaining her abrupt exit, yet somehow she knows the man will not appreciate it, nor will he care.
Detachment isn't a feeling Mimi is unfamiliar with. It makes her feel inadequate, empty. Never has she been put in such a situation where her words were not accepted, where her voice was better left unheard. She wasn't one for tears; however, the way the man made her feel had the back of her eyes stinging and her jaw tight. It was silly. She was getting emotional over someone who didn't want anything to do with her.
Mimi is worth more than that and she knows it. She has one chance to learn the man's name, the one she slept with twice, but she chooses to forgo a flip through the his unopened mail. She doesn't want to know this person's name – not that bad.
When Mimi drives away that morning, she has no intention of ever coming back.
-x-
Taichi wakes up alone, noticing he isn't smiling and he doesn't feel that usual sense of ease. He's anxious, fretful… hopeful? He sits up, the sheets sliding down his torso. Reaching across the bed, he knows the emotion he feels when he lays his hand on the bed beside him is disappointment. The sheets are cold, as if no one had ever lain there.
It's ridiculous and he knows it when he walks about his apartment stark naked, searching for any sign of life. He's alone – the way he normally likes it. Today, he doesn't enjoy it; today he wants something that he can't have. Realization dawns on him when he goes to the coffee maker, measuring out enough for a cup or two. It's not something he's looking for, it's someone.
"Mimi?" he calls into the empty living room.
No one responds. No one is there. No one cares.