|Author's Note| Rated T for language...and stuff. I'm pretty sure this fic isn't M.
Pairing: Koko x Sumire.
To the readers, I apologize for any errors. I hope you don't skip paragraphs haha. Well, then. Enjoy!
Highway 340
Chapter Twenty One
It was in his actions that I recognized a broken man - he loved her, of course; perhaps he loved her more than he valued himself and the countless businesses that he invested in. He was using his fame and wealth as diversions from the harsh truth that he was walking alone in a tumultuous path. He was far beyond repair.
He didn't answer my question. "Do you, Kokoro Yome, know why people become bastards? Why they blind themselves with the supposed pleasures of life which are alcohol, sex, and drugs? Why they relish in the putrid smell of smoke and dizzying flashes of disco lights?"
Taking my silence as his cue, he threw his head back and faced the gray sky. Natsume Hyuuga closed his eyes. He was asking me for the sole reason why he was in the disco bar, wasting his life away with another mug of beer. As a man, I knew that he wanted to cry and scream for Mikan's death. But he couldn't. The most he could do was destroy himself by visiting the graveyard of the girl who made his life worth it.
"It's because they've been broken, far too much, to still give a damn about fixing themselves up again."
A seemingly perfect man was telling his fatal flaw to another man who had much more flaws than he had. My only link to Natsume Hyuuga was a woman with hazel eyes and hair and a heart of gold, yet the businessman trusted me to keep his secret. Looking back, I remembered that I was puzzled when Natsume took another swig of beer in the disco bar while wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
I felt less determined to pursue something more with Sumire.
Natsume coughed. He turned back but knelt down once again to touch the top of the tombstone with his lips. We headed to the parking lot, and before we got into our own cars, he said, "I wouldn't want the reporters to see me this way, but I risked my reputation to make you understand - it's up to you if you want to understand."
A heavy weight pulled me down into the driver's seat. I was wrong about him. I was horribly mistaken - Sumire deserved someone better than me, someone who knew what it was like to lose the one he loved. Natsume was using Sumire as a replacement the same way Sumire used me as hers - but Natsume found the reason to lower his pride and admit that he had someone else in mind.
Something bugged me. A piece of paper stuck out from my dashboard in an odd way, and I reluctantly retrieved it.
Please do understand this: I believe that Sumire Shouda, no matter how different she is from Mikan, also holds a special place in my heart, although I'm quite unsure of how wide that area is exactly.
-N.H.
Three years after, I am inspecting my reflection in the faultless mirror. My brown hair is trimmed to perfection, my white suit is embellished with a corsage of a pink peony, and my smile never falters, not even one bit. I have bought seemingly expensive cologne that perfectly matches the aura of the day's special event. This is one of the rare moments that happen only once in a lifetime, or maybe never at all.
Constructive criticism is very much welcome!