Some people deserve to get what they give. There are some things that only God can forgive, and Aoi just can't live with that.
In her younger and vulnerable years, her mother gave her an advice that has lingered in her mind ever since.
"Mistakes arise in the past, but sincerity is found in the present," she told Aoi. "Eventually, forgiveness will come along, awaiting you somewhere in the future."
Of course, eight-year-old Aoi didn't know what she meant. But she didn't care.
It was just weird. Hearing such warmth leaving her mother's mouth was something new — she hadn't done anything to earn it. Aoi grinned from ear to ear as she looked up at her mother, enjoying the small caresses on her head.
She feels cold. Dejected. Aoi walks out of the café, stumbling as she strolls along the street, gaining odds looks from strangers she'd bump into. She quickens her pace, running off to anywhere her feet take her.
She staggers across the snowy ground, her body growing numb, but she continues on. Tears sting her eyes, coursing down her cheeks unchecked. She wipes them away, but still fails to suppress a sob. Bringing her face into her red scarf, Aoi sniffles, choked with emotion.
Her mind wanders, flitting from thought to thought. She finds herself thinking about something that happened seven years ago. Something that could happen five years from now. It's like a storm — her mind, that is. It's full of wistful yet painful thoughts.
The wind grows fiercer, howling as if it knew about her stupid struggle that she is desperately trying to get out of. Aoi is nearly blown away in the presence of its fury, and her feet halt in front of a house.
It isn't a mansion nor a penthouse, but a traditional-styled home like one that is seen off of the television. Seeing the burgundy-coloured building with wooden planks has made her stomach churned, its essence gleamed with the spotless silence of for-company-only. Aoi can see the maroon curtains draped over the windows, making it impossible to see inside.
It is as a stale odor of epic proportions hits her nose that she is pulled away from the trance. Aoi sighs. She hasn't realized yet that she had stopped crying.
"Hey, dad," she greets the old man who sits near the black picket fence, and she smiles when his wrinkled face brightens up upon her sudden appearance.
"Aoi!" He lets out a hearty laugh. Throwing the cigarette butt on the ground, he steps on it to extinguish. "Come on in, your relatives came over. They kept on talking about your big day."
Aoi gives him a small smile, not quite reaching her eyes as it looks strained and forced. Her dad, noticing this, leans over to get a better look at her face. "Aoi? What's wrong? Why do you look so glum?"
She clears her throat, taking a seat beside him. In a small voice and with much courage she can muster, she blurts out, "I'm breaking it off."
"What?"
"The wedding, dad. It won't happen."
When Aoi doesn't hear him speaking, the jittery feeling continues to grow. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye, and she is met with her dad's expressionless face.
"Can I ask why?"
Suddenly, Aoi cannot find the words, her throat constricted. Tears begin to burn her eyes and her lower lip trembles. "I don't love him anymore." Her father gives her a scrutinizing gaze, seemingly not buying it.
"Is that really the reason?"
Feeling all choked up, she is unable to look at her father in the eyes as she nods in response. Her face points up at the sky. Tears finally spill down, but Aoi doesn't sob.
"I treasure every moment I have with him," she starts slowly, "and whenever I'm with him, I feel like I've become a better version of myself. He brought out the best in me." Aoi wipes her glistened cheeks, her cold hand negating the flushed state she is in. "But then I began to fear that I may lose the desire to be with the person lying next to me every night, that I may resent the person for limiting my freedom to be selfish." A solemn smile cuts across her face. "It all became true, dad."
Masaomi knows there's little more he can do or say to console his crying daughter. He pats her back, then rubs it to soothe her internal pain.
"Aoi," he says. "I support your life decisions. It's not for me to decide. I learned that the hard way." When Aoi lifts her head, her face is pink, from both the wintry breeze and the extra blood rushing into the surface. She looks at her father knowingly. He continues, "I just want to tell you this: love isn't meant to last, it is just a long-term emotion. It comes and goes as it pleases, so don't fear love just because it makes you vulnerable, but don't be surprised if it suddenly leaves. Fear is only deep as the mind allows."
Her dad stands up, moving his aching limbs up the set of wooden steps that descend three steps from the entrance. Aoi begins to mull over his words. She watches her tears dripping onto her lap.
Plop, plop, plop, they go.
Everything is hazy as light seeps through a fog. Aoi tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Turning a corner into the alleyway, she lets out a heavy sigh, watching the steam of white puffing out from her mouth. She rubs her red hands together to create some heat, wishing she had brought her mittens.
Three days have passed since she announced about her cancelled wedding. Would she look different? Many relatives have been calling her up, most likely to discuss it, but she would blatantly ignore them, refusing to listen to their lectures or empty apologies. Aoi tries not to think much about it. She can't help but.
Thud.
Aoi halts and her body swerves to look behind her. The light that is strung on each side of the alley reveals the horror — lying on the ground is a beaten-up foreign blond man clutching his upper arm, blood painting the snowy ground beside him red.
There is a sharp intake of breath.
She slinks toward him, the tremor in her hands amplifying as the fear slowly overtakes her. Sets of footsteps recede in the background, but they fail to be heard over the beats drumming in the woman's ears.
Aoi blanches at the scene unraveling before her, unsure of what to do. Should she walk away and pretend she didn't see anything? Call someone for help?
"What are you doing here?" he breathes. "Run away. It's dangerous here."
A look of surprise flashes across her face, not expecting perfect Japanese to be coming out of his mouth. Her head snaps to the side — she can hear a shuffle of approaching feet, growing closer and closer to them each passing second. She watches as the man tries to find his feet by using his unaffected arm to bring himself up, barely standing up.
She does not know what has gotten into her, but she lunges forward, wrapping her hand around his wrist. A pair of dark brown eyes stare back at her, a bit astonished at her action. Aoi nearly releases him if not for the shock freezing her in place.
When her anxieties finally leach into the void, she says, "Let me help you." Her voice is almost inaudible that she wonders if he managed to catch it. She takes a deep breath. "I can help you get out of here."
The man knits his eyebrows, evidently in a dilemma, and Aoi begins to reconsider her action and lack of sense. Is she meddling into something she shouldn't have? What if he's involved in some kind of illicit business?
Aoi puts his arm over her shoulders, aiding him to stand on his feet.
"Where to?" she asks him, and her eyes go round when she sees his face. Raw fury ignites his eyes, obscuring an overpowering sense of fear beneath the flames. She wants to question him what exactly is going on, though she refrains herself, knowing it isn't the right time for it.
"Take me someplace far."
Aoi, at first reluctant to start the quiet trudge home, carries the stranger into her apartment building, seemingly haggard as she scans her surroundings. No one in sight. She uses this opportunity to quickly dash for the elevator.
The ride to the ninth floor is nothing but restless. Quiet humming noise fills her ears. Peeking at the taller man beside her, she can also hear his shaky and shallow breathing.
Aoi deliberates her decision in helping him, though she knows that there's no point in dwelling over it now. Her muscles grow rigid and she bites her lip, somehow unsure whether she regrets her action.
She watches her own hands struggle against her door as they try to unlock it. When the door finally gives way, she bursts into her home.
Aoi lays the man down and sits on her heels. She takes off his green jacket and tears the short sleeve his shirt a tad bit to examine his wound. With his arm now exposed, she can see blood leaving a large cut near his shoulder profusely and she winces inwardly. After checking his breathing and circulation, she rushes to the storage cabinet and grabs the essential medical supplies that sit atop of the upper shelf.
As Aoi dashes back, she hastily opens a box of gauze, unravelling a roll along the way. The man knits his brows when she rips a big piece. Elevating his arm above the level of the heart to slow the blood flow, she places a hand over his shoulder of the affected side, feeling for a pulse just behind the inner end of his collarbone. With her thumb, she exerts pressure down the first rib.
"This may be painful," she says, placing the dressing over the surface of the open wound before adding, "And it will be painful, so hold on tight." Applying heavy pressure directly to it, Aoi hears him grunting, albeit very quiet.
As blood begins to seep through, Aoi realizes that flat direct pressure isn't going to be enough. With one hand occupied with pressured dressing, the other one reaches to the roll and she rips another piece. Putting it over the soaked dressing, Aoi applies more pressure to the wound.
Shortly after, the bleeding finally stops, and the man's breathing levels. Aoi breathes a sigh of relief as she slumps against the cushions, her head lolling back.
Silence envelops the room, making her blood cold. Aoi is running on empty by the time the clock strikes three. Whether it is her nerves or her tiredness, everything passes by in a dream-like manner.
"Why did you help me?"
Aoi picks her eyes off the ceiling with weariness, like she's falling in quicksand, and massages her temples. "I don't know," she confesses, then looks at him with a face that is one of ambivalence. "Maybe... Maybe because you seem to be in need of some help." A chuckle leaves her — not one of joviality nor pleasure, but of unease. The stranger's brows draw together.
"I could be someone dangerous," he points out. Aoi shakes her head.
"I don't think so. You told me to run away, didn't you?" Her lips press in a tight line. "I guess that was enough to push me to do it. Otherwise, I would have just fled. Helping a black hat is something that would grate terribly on the conscience."
The silence reappears, except it lays on her skin like poison. Aoi shuffles in her seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the man's hard stare.
"Aren't you going to ask me what I do, or why those men were chasing me?" his voice cuts the air like thin ice.
Aoi's eyes enlarge for a fraction of a second, and so she quickly averts them to the ground. "I feel like I shouldn't ask." Tearing his eyes away from her, the man closes them.
"To be honest, I don't want you to know," he sighs, running his hand through his blond curls. Aoi can't help but be mesmerized by how stunning his hair looks as the locks slip through his fingers. "I don't plan on dragging any innocent civilians into it."
She purses her lips until a thought emerges.
"Then..." Aoi trails off, a tad reluctant to finish her sentence, "may I ask for your name?" He laughs throatily, soft and murmurous like wings. Blushing, she looks away. He is very enchanting, she must admit. As pretty as a picture. There is a touch of the exotic in his appearance that causes Aoi to steal glances at him from time to time. She's hoping at this point that he wouldn't think she's a creep.
"Please call me Dino," he says, propping himself up on one elbow.
"I'm Inoue, um, Inoue Aoi." The woman picks herself up and assists him to the couch. Fortunately, it is made of leather, but she makes a mental note to herself to clean it later. She removes her scarf from her neck and sets it down on the armrest. "Um, I managed to stop the bleeding, but do be careful with your arm. Aggravate it and you will suffer another hemorrhage."
"Will do. Thanks," Dino gives her a warm smile. Aoi nods, not bothering to say anything more. Her face is one of awkwardness.
She now does not know what to do. She fiddles with her fingers. Striking a conversation seems to be out of the question — she barely knows the man, after all. Besides, she has never been good at talking with people. Aoi forces her legs to make a beeline for the door that leads to her bedroom.
"Inoue," his voice halts her steps, and Aoi turns her head. Dino scratches his cheek, more or less embarrassed for what he is about to say. "I'm not sure how long I will be staying here, but there's a chance it might be a while. My men should be on their way, so by the time they arrive, I promise I will out of your life."
His men? Aoi raises an eyebrow at that, growing more and more curious about what he does for a living.
"I don't mind." She has a sudden urge to ask him questions, but she shakes her head, thinking that it's not really her place to do so. "Are you hungry? I can fix you something to eat."
"Yeah, that'd be nice."
She makes her way towards the kitchen, quick on her feet. A check of her fridge informs her that the only thing in the appliance is the remains of some iced tea that she doesn't even remember making. She clicks her tongue, realizing that she's out of food and ingredients — she forgets that she used them all already and has been lazy to go grocery shopping. Aoi opens the cupboard, grabbing a cup of noodles.
"Uh, I barely have any ingredients to cook anything..." she tells Dino from across the room, a bit ashamed. "Do you mind eating a cup of noodles?"
"Anything is fine," he says, then stifles a laugh when he sees her face. "I don't mind, really. I haven't had one in a while."
She heads back in to prepare, boiling hot water with the electric jug kettle. From the living room comes the sound of a phone, going off like an annoyed rattlesnake. Dino scoops it up, speaks into it, and listens for a moment.
"No, I'm okay." His hushed tone makes it seem secretive, like she shouldn't overhear. "Is that so? Don't worry, I'm in safe hands... I encountered a woman." Aoi perks up her ears when she hears him mentioning about her. "All right, I'll tell her." When the conversation ends, he caves into a chair, trying to decide what to do.
Aoi places a pair of chopsticks and a cup of noodles on the coffee table in front of him. "Is... is there something wrong?" she asks him.
"It looks like my men ran into trouble."
"Has something bad happened?" Aoi doesn't want to seem like she's intruding into his affairs. Then the thought goes through her mind that it wouldn't make a difference, that he's just a stranger.
"No, it's something they can handle," he exhales deeply. "Thanks for the food." Aoi rubs her arm, watching as he begins to eat. Slurping the noodles with much haste, Dino gobbles it all up in no time. "Ow!" he utters a yelp, sticking his tongue out to cool the burning sensation.
Aoi is stunned, fixating the content he's spilled on the table. "You're a pretty messy eater, aren't you?" she giggles.
"Sorry," he sheepishly grins. Telling him that it's fine, Aoi goes to clean up any spillages.
"I'll be heading to my room right now. so come knock if you need anything." With nothing else to say, she enters her bedroom in a couple of strides. Her eyes instantly wander over the empty bed and sighs for the last time of the day.
It has been a hell of a ride.
She felt cold. She stretched her fingers out, seeking warmth, only to find the other side of the bed empty. Aoi groaned, propping herself up on a hand.
Rubbing her eyes, she scanned the room. "Ryoma?" No one in sight. Aoi let out a yawn, groggily getting off the bed, and slid into her slippers. As she rose to her feet, she took notice of a small paper that lay atop the nightstand.
Went out. Call or text me when you see this, it read.
Furrowing her eyebrows, she grabbed her phone. She didn't notice him coming home. Aoi sighed, chiding herself for having to fall asleep before his return.
"Hey, you're finally awake," a whisper reverberated through the line.
"Good morning," Aoi greeted with a giggle. "Where are you?"
"At the café," said Ryoma. Aoi could hear a sigh leaving him before he continued, "Come down here. I have something to tell you."
"Okay. I'll see you in a bit."
A little smile crept across her mouth. With a lot on his plate in the past month, Ryoma could only spend time with her at night. Aoi would stay up late to wait for him, and she had started to get used to the aroma of coffee despite her dislike for it.
When she arrived, she saw Ryoma, sitting by the window he stared outside, a deep furrow running across his forehead. It disappeared when his eyes shot up upon her presence, the appearance of the dark circles around them coming to light. His face was gray with apparent fatigue.
"Why didn't you wake me up when you got home?" she asked, her hand reaching his head to fix his disheveled hair, but he swatted it away. Aoi was taken aback by this, but consciously willed her expression to concern. "Ryoma, are you okay?"
He seemed to be just as shocked by his action, his eyes large.
"No, sorry. I'm... I'm fine." Aoi detected a faint note of weariness in his voice. Something felt off.
"You haven't changed out of your clothes." When he didn't respond, she asked him, "Were you caught up at work?"
Ryoma's body stiffened. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists. Before Aoi could question his odd behaviour, he beat her to it. "Let's call it off."
Her stomach dropped. The dismayed girl repeated his words in her mind as the beats in her heart pounded directly into her ears. Almost inaudible, she forced herself to say something, "What?"
"Our wedding. I don't want to marry you anymore," Ryoma asserted, his voice flat and hard. Aoi's eyes shrank to angry slits, glaring at him.
"Ryoma, it's not the time to joke around."
"You can tell everyone that you called it off."
"Stop it," she huffs. A deep sigh escaped his lips as though he were annoyed.
"What if I told you that I'm in love with someone else?"
Aoi was rendered speechless. She stood agape, slumped in sudden dejection. For the first time, she couldn't bear to look at him, unable to compare it to anything else she'd ever felt.
"Are you?" Her voice cracked like a neglected book just opened. She swallowed a lump in her throat and blinked the tears away, trying to regain her composure. The man didn't say anything, and her patience was wearing thin. She snapped, "Answer me, Ryoma."
She waited, and a few seconds that felt like hours ticked away. His mouth opened, and Aoi never knew that she would come to hate the voice that once sounded so warm to her ears. The knives pierced deeper into her heart.
"Yes, I am."