Summary: A relationship only works if they talk.
Day 3: angst – how do you stand it?
Shintarou's little sister clucks her tongue as she sees her brother checking his phone for the umpteenth time.
"Nii-chan, it's not because you're checking every five minutes that a message will pop up," she grumbles.
She takes a long sip of her juice, chewing on the straw. Her eyes never leave the concerned expression that Shintarou wears, and seeing him in such a pathetic state makes her want to scream.
"Michiko, I already told you that it's not proper to chew on the straw," Shintarou chided.
"Yeah, yeah, but in the meantime I'm bored and your eyes are glued on your phone," Michiko scoffs. "You don't even visit once every three months and when you do you're sighing non-stop because of Ryouta-chan. Again."
Michiko resisted the urge to spit out the name of her brother's lover because she knows he won't take it nicely. She can't help but dislike the model when he's neglecting her brother! She really, really doesn't understand how these two work; she's only twenty, they are twenty-six, but she knows that things won't last. She's sad for her brother, but if they can't have a steady relationship, she would rather like they break up.
Shintarou sighs—again—and puts his phone in his pocket. He picks a tangerine in the basket on the kotatsu and absentmindedly peels it, deep in his thoughts. This year again he spends most of winter at his parents', instead of at home with Ryouta. He doesn't know how their relationship got so deteriorated over the last year; he almost feels like this isn't real, that tomorrow, or next week, or next month, they will go back to being able to live together on good terms and talking. Especially talking. The last text he received from Ryouta was from three days ago, the last call from two weeks ago—Ryouta has been away for three months. He's working with a company in Europe and Shintarou is stuck in Japan with his doctor's job. Even if he didn't have this job, he doubts he would have followed his boyfriend in a country he doesn't know when he's barely speaking with the only person he knows.
He suddenly remembers the bright smile and the incessant chattering from highschool, and his mind goes blank. He stops peeling the tangerine, which doesn't escape Michiko's sharp eyes. She tightens her hold around her glass.
"I swear Nii-chan, if you're going to say that you need time I'll punch you," she warns wih a low voice. "And you know I will."
"You liked Ryouta a lot before," Shintarou points out.
"The key word is 'before'. I don't like people who don't make any effort to be social."
Shintarou, despite the heavy atmosphere, lets out a chuckle that makes Michiko raise an eyebrow. He almost smiles out of amusement.
"He is social and you know it," he says. "I must be the problem."
"I won't deny the fact that you're hard to understand sometimes, but he's the one who leaves you behind," Michiko retorts.
"Maybe he got bored of our routine. Ryouta likes change and a life full of experiences."
"And you prefer something stable. He should make efforts, that's what I'm saying!"
Oh, he did, Shintarou wants to say, but that's meaningless now. He was happy for seven years because he lived the perfect relationship he could dream of—discovering feelings, putting efforts into building something lasting, living funny moments, sometimes sad days that were quickly transformed into cheerful ones, and just the simple feeling of being loved. Ryouta could be annoying in his own way but he has always been like that; he has been supportive and cheered him up whenever things didn't go as he planned. Honestly, Shintarou couldn't ask for someone better.
But maybe—surely—, he should have listened to Ryouta more often, about his desire to travel, to go on dates on weekends, or to attend every party their friends threw, to make a handful of memories and to have fun. He isn't wrong either, since they don't need to perpetually do something so wild to maintain their relationship, and work is important. Neither of them can neglect their jobs because it requires a lot of time and dedication.
Shintarou looks his sister right in the eyes.
"We should talk about it once his trip is over. A very long talk."
Michiko squints her eyes.
"Are you telling me that you guys didn't talk about the issue for the past several months?" she asks with disbelief.
"I guess we tiptoed around it."
Michiko rolls her eyes and lifts her hands in the air, looking done with it. Shintarou doesn't blame her; she tried to knock some sense into their skulls for weeks and they half-listened to her. Ryouta was probably waiting for Shintarou, and Shintarou was too stubborn to change anything. Their friends think it's weird how they manage to live together and to look so unaffected by their situation, but it's maybe because they thought things will eventually work out. They've been together for eight years after all, they know each other like the back of their hand—right?
Shintarou's phone vibrates in his pocket, and the doctor instantly fishes it out. He shakily reads the message, and lets out a nervous sigh.
"He's coming back in two weeks," he announces. "But I don't know if he's really coming home."
Michiko opens her mouth, but doesn't question the meaning of her brother's words because she sees in his eyes that it's better for everyone that she doesn't know.
.
.
.
.
.
"I'm coming back in two weeks! Work was truly tiresome but it's something I really don't regret. We should come back for sightseeing, there are lots of landmarks that you're going to love.
Is it okay if I bring someone home? You know him too, don't worry! (ԾᴗԾ)"
I can't write angsty MidoKise hahaa.