Disclaimer: I don't own Slam Dunk.
A/N: This short one-shot was inspired by Bamboo's Masaya. However, the word masaya which means happy in English has no connection to the story whatsoever.
…
PLAYING THE CARDS
I sighed for the nth time as I downed another glass of Bora. Lying atop my den's center table was a half-filled bottle of the hard drink only meekly suggesting that I had been glugging down some liquor for a time not quite long. I had to. Sleep was extraordinarily barely hinting itself; I was glum and heartbroken.
In a state unabashedly forlorn, I looked out my window and up. The heavens seemed to empathize with my melancholy. It was darker than usual, appearing as if an ebony blanket draped it.
I took my place on a divan as I settled on pondering.
I had long wondered what went wrong with our relationship. We were a perfect couple. It had been a long journey, yes, but everything boiled down to being worth it when we finally ended up together. Then again, the roads had been harsh. In the beginning.
The relationship's initiation was a tad rough because we were too different. He was raucous while I was silent. As trite as it may be, he was fire and I was ice. Getting along with each other had been too tasking a job as one was always a thorn to the other's neck. I loathed him, he felt mutually, period. However, we never realized that the uber hackneyed phrase a thin line between love and hate would introduce its veracity to me, and to him as well. Gradually, loathing turned to attraction then to something more. We traipsed trepidation but the emotions had been too strong to keep leashed so in the end, both of us had to do something about it.
Love. That was all we had. It was more than just a stirring feeling, it was everything beyond its mere visage. In totality was it unparalleled by an evocative look, a passionate embrace or even a searing kiss. Nothing could do love justice. It was indescribable completeness, our own Nirvana grasped.
Love was a dangerous game. We played the cards.
The joys it brought had been overwhelming when, at last, we decided to invest our emotions on a steadfast commitment. In my entire sixteen years of shelled living, I have never been happier when we got together. He became the sole quintessence of my once-hopeless survival. For once in my life, I did things with a reason at hand. I unraveled what more was to see in myself. With him, I exposed the unseen and offered what's untouchable.
He was everything I never anticipated. He was an impact unalterable. He was life itself.
Our relationship was beyond rendering. Each other was absolute perfection. We had succumbed to love's intoxicating madness.
Alas, it was not enough.
What was supposedly a spectacular dream of every person's ideal relationship turned to an abysmal incubus of pain and despondence. We began having frequent arguments from big issues down to the most trivial concerns. True enough, the discrepancy in our personalities was too much to tolerate. We would often be acerbic to each other because we could not meet halfway anymore. He was a game adventure-seeker while I defied to be bold. I was contented with what I had and what I wanted but he always sought for something more.
This conflict went on to the point of almost always hurting each other. Everything one did caused the other pain. Our youth never taught us how to compromise. We were deeply in love yet we did not know how to handle and give way.
Before we knew it, our relationship was in a limbo.
"7:00. Sharp." I spat out in a derisive tone.
"I know, I' m sorry. Something came up and…I'm sorry," he looked at me apologetically.
"Perhaps you're trying to set a record. That was about your 12th apology for the week if you needed reminding," I replied in restrained exasperation.
"I know and I'm not doing it again."
I looked at him indignantly.
"Fine, I know I'm doing it again." He raised his arms in defeat. "You have to understand me, Kaede. This is…this is my life," he explicated.
"Your life that once did not include me, is that it?" I asked sourly.
"Oh come on, don't do this to me now. You're not that much resilient yourself for me and you know that," he hurled back.
"This isn't about me. I'm not the one screwing up on dates lately."
"God, Kaede, I told you I'm sorry already! And please, look who's talking. What about you, huh? You're not even supportive to me."
"That. Was. Petty." I scoffed.
"Not to me, Kaede."
"Stop turning the tides, Hana, you're the one who blew this date not me."
"For heavens' sake, Kaede, this isn't about blowing dates anymore, this is about you and me and what we're trying to do to each other!" he exclaimed in utter frustration.
There was heavy and awkward silence. Before I spoke again.
"I don't know."
"What?" he asked, surprised.
"I don't know what we're trying to do to each other." I waited for a string of words from him, words which never came.
Until he sighed, that of woe and bitterness. "Me too."
"I don't want to hurt you anymore." I looked at him, full of sincerity.
He smiled acrimoniously. "I don't think I enjoy doing that either. What do you suppose we do?"
I exhaled deeply before delivering my next statement. A statement which could change my life more than anything else. "Let's end this. The only way." I felt a surge of pain seep through my being.
He turned pale. Not one of us talked for about a minute.
When finally, he spoke, he smiled, that of a poignant one. "Funny how I love you so much yet I always end up hurting you badly. And now that you're breaking up with me…I…I…" he was at a loss for words. I could see that he was trying to hold back his emotions.
"I know." I looked at him intently.
"So I guess that's it. We should end up happy anyway," he laughed sadly. "And perhaps we could—"
"Perhaps. I love you. Please take care of yourself." As soon as I said that, I didn't give him time to respond as I instantly locked my lips with his, savoring the intensity of the feeling and engulfing myself with the intoxication of probably the last kiss I would share with the only person who's ever had me completely.
With a lingering nibble on his bottom lip, I was off in a speed of lightning.
I gulped down my 8th shot, the liquid sweltering my throat.
Our relationship didn't have its happy ending because love was all we had. Nothing more. We relied on the mere existence of something believed to be rearing a relationship in entirety when in fact, it was all gambling. Love was never a guarantee of a win-win situation. We were consummated by it, assured of triumph. And now we lost.
Then again, it's in losing that one may win.
I put on the cap of the bottle of Bora and brought my glass to the sink. I had to sleep. Tomorrow, there's practice.
END
A/N: Depression is driving me nuts. Yeah, life is. –sigh-
Comments are welcome, okay?
