Chapter 18

Here comes the misery, yeah

Coming back to make me pay, yeah

I wanted you haunting me, but not just yet

Give the memories time to blossom into regret

04/16/2014 9:45pm

Aila had been left alone in her suite that evening. Despite the brief, but precious moments she'd spent with Akihiko, reality had inconsiderately called for their attention. The silverette had desired to get some training done before the Dark Hour (he'd claimed that, while he'd enjoyed spending the day with her, he was far behind on his regiment). She'd urged him to go on and promised to see him later. However, as she shut the door behind him, she felt the loneliness sink in-as well as the consequences of her decision.

She'd basically rejected Akihiko. Not completely, of course, but that nevertheless made Aila's heartache. She'd had feelings for the boy for a long time now, but couldn't bring herself to give into them just yet. She wanted to be absolutely certain that, when she fell in love with someone, it was due to her feelings…not due to some memory mix-up.

In truth, a part of Aila also wondered if her relationship to her cousin was an influence on Akihiko's feelings, too. It was a thought that she wanted to keep distant, but its ever-present venom kept her regularly doubting what was real and what wasn't.

A knock came at the door. Aila, who'd been reclining heavily against the countertop, called out that the entrance was unlocked. Someone stepped into the darkness; she'd been so deep in her own thoughts that she hadn't thought to turn on the lights.

"You okay?" She was relieved to hear Shinjiro's voice and to see his form in the light of the hallway outside.

"Yeah. Go ahead and come in."

Shinjiro did so, closing the door behind him and putting a finger to the light switch. Before flipping it, he looked to Aila.

"You want these on?" He asked first. Giving a small half-smile, she shook her head.

"No. Thanks anyway."

Shinjiro left the lighting as it was, approaching the table with a careful step. The light from the slowly waning moon peeked through the kitchen blinds and allowed the two to see each other's forms (and a little bit of their faces). The man sat down in the chair furthest from Aila's form. It made an audible creak that they hadn't noticed earlier. It seemed so loud and obvious to them now…and yet, nothing was said on the matter.

At first, silence completely enveloped them. This was something that Aila loved about Shinjiro; they could sit comfortably in the same room without words or the awkwardness that would normally follow. With Akihiko, it felt like some horrible truth would try to come out if they didn't say something immediately. Aila wondered why it was that way….

"…Do you wanna talk about it?" Shinjiro asked suddenly. Aila was startled by his low voice.

"About what?"

"Whatever's bothering you."

"Oh. That." Aila stared towards the window. Through the tiny slits, she could see buildings shimmer against the evening sky. It was a much deeper and heavier blue than the shade that came from the Dark Hour, but that just made the ambience somehow more peaceful. "I think that Akihiko was going to tell me that he loves me."

Shinjiro leaned back into his seat. It squeaked again, making both persons cringe. "What happened?"

Aila chuckled darkly. "I shot him down before he even had a chance to speak."

"Oh yeah?" Shinjiro's tone was passive, but Aila knew that he was really listening to her troubles.

"Yeah. It's not that I don't have feelings for him, though. It's just…." She laughed again. "It's complicated…too complicated to drag him into."

There was a long pause. Aila sighed, upset at how loud she sounded in the emptiness.

"…Does it have anything to do with why you dyed your hair that ridiculous color?"

Aila laughed-for real, now. "Oh, that. Yeah, I guess it was kind of a stupid thing to do." The girl lifted herself from the granite surface and plopped down in the chair beside her friend. "I just…. I did it because I want to stop seeing Her whenever I look in the mirror. And I want everyone else to look at something other than my damn eyes."

"So you chose…pink." Shinjiro emphasized the last word for effect.

"Okay, okay, I get it. It was a stupid color. I'm just so tired of people looking at me and seeing someone else. Plus, if I'm going to try and fight off all of the memories that come whenever the team gets so much as a scratch, then I need to do something drastic." She played with the tips of her hair.

"Did something happen?"

Aila recalled that she hadn't told anyone else about her freak-out when Ken nearly died and slowly repeated the story to her companion. She felt that, if nothing else, she could trust him to keep the tale private. At the end, his head bobbed slowly.

"I don't think changing your hair color will prevent those flashbacks," he stated. "I ain't a scientist or anything, but whatever's happening to you is because of something else...something other than your roots."

"I know. But I've got to start somewhere, right?" Aila tucked her hair behind her ears. "That's why I can't get so close to Akihiko right now." She giggled to herself. "He's making it hard, though. Do you know he did on the way home today? He asked me to start calling him 'Aki'?" Shinjiro didn't laugh.

"…He really likes you."

"I know. But he shouldn't. Not now, at least. Not while I'm trying to get my life together." Aila glared at the window again. "When I regained my memories, I vowed to find a way to save Minako from her fate as The Great Seal. But…and with all of my own problems to worry about…I don't know where to even start. I don't even know if there's anything that l can do."

"Hmm." Shinjiro nodded again. Aila turned to look into his face, but couldn't see anything beneath the shadow of his beanie. She started nervously picking at her nails; she was about to ask a question that had been plaguing her for months.

"You used to love her too, right?"

There was a long silence; he didn't seem to want to answer.

Aila went on. "I had visions from before. You and she…you were pretty serious for a while. She really liked you. And you really seemed to like her too. But after your accident, it's like you just…." She stopped fidgeting and drew her eyes to where she thought his were. "Shutdown."

The only response this time was an uncomfortable shift in his seat. Another creak followed.

"Even after you woke up from the coma, you just kinda gave her to Akihiko, didn't you? You didn't try to be with her during her final moments…you let Akihiko hold her as she died."

"He loved her," was his response. "And she loved him. There ain't much more to the story."

"But you did say that you were glad to have met her, right? That's all you left her with at her death?"

"Somethin' bug you about that?" His tone grew hostile. This wasn't a subject he wanted to explore.

"Yeah, actually." She frowned at her fingers. "Seems like if you really love someone, you don't leave it buried when they're on their deathbed."

"We made our choices-both of us. It didn't matter what I said at that point. She got someone she deserved."

"Where did that leave you then?"

Shinjiro's eyes finally came into view of the moonlight. They gave Aila a harsh look. "I'm pretty sure that's not your problem."

Aila huffed in frustration and stood from her seat. "Sorry that I'm curious about the grieving of someone other than myself." She went to the freezer, pulling out the pint of chocolate ice cream she'd bought earlier. Rather than putting some into a bowl, she just grabbed a spoon from the silverware drawer.

"…You shouldn't eat so late," Shinjiro protested nonchalantly.

"So?" Aila opened the container.

"It's not good for you."

Aila gave a "pfft."

"You'll get fat."

"Then maybe Minako's memories will find me unattractive and will finally leave me alone." She headed for the front room couch, flipping on the lights at last. When she plopped down into the cushions she stared at Shinjiro. While he watched, she spooned a huge scoop of ice cream and shoved the entire thing into her mouth. He shrugged, but an annoyed sound escaped his lips. Then she did it again and again and again.

"At least you got to see her," she mumbled through a dollop of melted chocolate. "You got to be there when she died. You could've said everything you wanted to her, like how much you cared about her or how much you'd missed her all of these years. Or how much you cried out her name when you were on the verge of a breakdown. Or how sorry you were that you'd called her names when she'd only been trying to help you follow your dream…." Now, the cream tasted salty. She stared down into it; a puddle of her tears filled a small crater in the bottom of the cardboard. She swallowed another sour bite.

Shinjiro stared at her for a moment; in the light, he could see her whole face. It was turning red and starting to become puffy around the eyes. Aila gripped the carton so hard that it started to crumple beneath her fingers, but it was all she could do to keep control over herself.

"You could've told her the truth," she muttered, rubbing her eyes with her spoon hand. "You could've talked to her, Shinjiro. She lived long enough for you to say whatever you needed to before she…." She gulped; a lump had lodged itself in her throat. "You were one of the lucky ones…and yet you wasted your chance….."

"Hey…." He tried to approach Aila, but she gave him a startling glare.

"Do you know how many people would kill for the chance to talk to her one last time?! To apologize for not telling her how great a friend she was? Or for not loving her enough? For not spending more time smiling with her, rather than sulking in the corner like a child?! ONE. Only one person on this earth would kill for that chance!" She couldn't hold it back now; the tears overflowed, filling her spoon and her cup. Everything she'd been trying to bury in herself boiled up all at once. It wrapped her up tightly in a comfortable noose, slowly constricting her frail throat. Slowly, Shinjiro took the cup from her hands and sat beside her. Without looking at the girl, he wrapped his arm around Aila's shoulders and sharply brought her into his chest. She thought she'd get a concussion judging by the force he'd used to pull her close.

"…I told her exactly what I needed to," he muttered above Aila's head. She tried to peer up at him. "Maybe it wasn't fancy or exciting, but it was enough." Enough. That last word rang in Aila's ears. She knew in the deepest part of her heart that it wasn't true; she never could've told her cousin that she cared enough. And, judging by the solemn look in her friend's face, Aila could tell that Shinjiro couldn't have believed his words were enough either. It was just a way to cope with the loss of his ex-lover...it was just a word you said to yourself to get out of bed in the morning and to help remind you that your lungs need air to live.

Aila sunk her head into Shinjiro's coat; its scent was thick, metallic, and old-not sweet and familiar like Akihiko's-but it still managed to make her feel comfortable.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. He heard her, but didn't say anything. Something inside his chest was blocking his airway, leaving him unable to talk. Aila buried her cheek further into him. "I'm pretty selfish sometimes. I keep forgetting to think of feelings other than my own. I'll…try to be better at it." It was what Minako would do. She wouldn't bury her friends with her own regrets; she'd do everything in her power to fulfill their needs and make them happy. Maybe it was what those memories were trying to show her. Maybe this was all a lesson she needed to learn to function again…to remember how to get out of bed and breathe in the morning.

Shinjiro's fingers absently undid the knots in her pink hair. It was stung at first, but become much smoother some effort. As he repeated the motion over and over, Aila felt tired. Was this how all girls felt after crying? Physically and emotionally exhausted? Or was it Shinjiro's constant hand motion that was to blame?

It didn't matter at that moment. She was too tired to really care about such things.

…. …. …. ….

No Time Available...

Something light and fluffy brushed Aila's face, like a dozen dandelions being carried off by the wind. When they hit the girl's nose, she slowly rose her head to see what the hell was irritating her so badly.

"Well, hello there, sleepyhead." The yellow fabric caressed her again, relieving the heaviness from Aila's eyes. She'd never seen this man before, but as she looked at him, a whole new onslaught of memories stole her focus.

I love you...My dearest.

... ... ...

The song is Misery by Therapy (although, I may find a song that better fits later).
Next chapter is up. I'm so proud that I was able to get it on here! :D I hope you enjoy!