"I don't know, Nagihiko. I think…" She looked down, "I think he may be the one."

And nothing hurt more than that. How many times had he heard her say that? How many times had he been there to pick her up, catch her when she fell too hard- too fast? If only she'd felt the same way about him; if only she'd do anything for him, like he'd do for her. He sighed and sipped his coffee, watching her twirl that hair.

That pink hair.

~-~O~-~

He had a routine. It was a fairly rainy season where they lived. He'd get in his car, ambition flooding his guts as he repeated to himself, "This is it. This is the night you'll win her." He'd park his car downtown, a few blocks away from her house, and he'd walk there. But he could never bring himself to burst through the door like he'd always imagined. He could never bring himself to live out that fantasy. He'd stand at the corner of her block and watch her window, watch her silhouette, her short hair's shadow, her giddy dances she'd do after a date. On nights where her silhouette was still and dim, he'd knock on her door and hug her tight, walk into the kitchen and make her tea, and talk to her. He never made a move.

That night when he got into his car, he knew he'd do it. Instead of parking downtown, he'd park right in front of her tiny apartment, run up the stairs, and sweep her up.
He turned onto her street and looked up to watch her infamous shadow. Nagihiko saw two. He heard the faint sound of cheesy jazz. Saw the twisting figures swaying to the beat, and he heard that melodic laugh of hers.

On nights like this, he had a different routine.

To: Rima

Coming over.

From: Rima

I'll be waiiiting

He stopped at a light, and heard another beep from his phone.

From: Rima

I wish you'd stop doing this to yourself. Thought you were smarter...

He knew she was right. He wiped some water from his face, shook his hair, water droplet falling onto his steering wheel.

Beep.

From: Rima

Nvm. Just hurry.

~-~O~-~

Rima was no stranger to the sorrow caused by want. She had, after all, been Nagihiko's happy pill for quite some time now. She remembered the first time he'd come over after seeing Amu and one of her beaus. Rima hated herself, knowing he'd never be that torn up about her. But the way he touched her that night made her think they maybe he felt something. Even if just for one night.

Now she knew better.

She was just a tool.

~-~O~-~

The next week he'd gone over to Amu's on a Saturday morning, after getting a text from her. Ikuto had left, and somehow Nagihiko was far from surprised. He tapped on her window and she looked through the blinds, eyes swollen. He heard the click of her front door and stepped inside, staring at her with glazed eyes; she was just as bad as he was. He murmured sweet things to her, about how beautiful she was, how out of Ikuto's league she was, how anybody would be lucky to have her...

But it was never enough to get her to fall in love with him.

He had compromised his sanity just to able to comfort her, and that's why he didn't mind waiting in rain. Just in case she needed him.

Anytime he caught himself hurting too much, looking into Amu's eyes for too long, hugging her too tight, Rima was always there. Anytime.

~-~O~-~

He continued his pathetic routine, despising how many times he had Rima, but loving how her body took away the pain, but was a reminder of how much he needed said feeling. He always turned up to her house soaking, feeling terrible. She get two beers, they'd talk, and after a while she'd do what she usually did: take his hand tenderly in hers and guide him up her stairs, while her heart filled with false hope. She knew it was useless, harmful to her. But he was so addictive. She couldn't help herself, and the night would end with her lying on her bed facing one wall, and Nagihiko facing another. The content they felt was bitter, with just enough sweet to get them through.

But things that unhealthy can never go without slipping.