.

.

.

[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]

chapter thirty-four

fragilities

.

.

.

"No." Satou immediately disapproves of my idea. "We'll wait for Yamato's answer. You won't be able to live a normal life anymore. You don't understand the repercussions if you reveal yourself to the media."

"Don't you think I know that? Besides, by putting him through the same hell, making him relive those moments with what happened to Kaori...it'll make it worse for him, Satou-san."

It's not like I'm playing hero or anything. I've seen how much effort Yamato puts into disguising himself and keeping a low profile whenever we're out in public. So it isn't like I haven't known the repercussions of me being with Yamato. To commit to him, I knew something like this would happen at some point, and unfortunately it seems like I'll have to deal with this earlier than I had anticipated.

Satou frowns. "We'll wait for Yamato's answer."

He's not budging on his decision. The manager slips past me, clasping a hand on my shoulder before saying good bye, muttering about some things he needs to take care of. I don't argue back because I've already expressed my opinion, and it is only fair that we do wait for Yamato. We're clashing heads here, but it isn't something worth fighting about right now. Our hands are already full with what's just happened with Yamato - this can wait until later.

I sigh, craning my neck to the silent guy sitting on the sofa. His shoulders are sloped, defeated, but I'm grateful that he's stopped shaking. I head towards he is, planting a kiss on his cheek. To think that Satou-san and I had even managed to bring Yamato to his apartment, in the state he was. He was like dead weight, and it had been such an effort to get him up the elevator and into his place. Thank Goodness his apartment had elevators.

At the studio I had coerced him into taking his evening meds, and from the stat diazepam his panic attack finally came to a halt. I only knew that Yamato takes the med because he disclosed to me a week ago about his disorder, and it does help that I'm familiar with the medications since my mother has a similar diagnosis.

Resting my hand on his knee, I suggest to him, "Why don't you take a shower, Yamato? You'll feel better."

From the light prompting, he stands up. Although he's not speaking, at least he is doing something. Nevertheless, I follow him as he makes his way to the bedroom. Once he enters the bathroom, I go through his drawers and pull out a shirt and a pair of boxers.

"I've got your clothes."

Again, he doesn't respond.

"Yamato?"

The bathroom door isn't open, so I amble inside. Steam greets my face and I hear the sound of water trickling down the tiles and into the drain. I tense up when I don't find Yamato's shadow behind the shower curtain. Immediately, I skate the curtain to the side, and all negative thoughts are dispersed when I see him crunched into a ball, sitting in the bathtub with his clothing on, sticking onto his body like a second skin, as the water continues to pelt down.

He's shuddering again, and a memory flickers in my mind, turning my blood cold. It reminds me of that time I had found him in the hotel bathroom, frantically scratching at his own skin, hallucinating. Even to this day, the image of having found Yamato in that state continues to horrify me - and I never want to witness him like that ever again.

I dip one leg into the bathtub, then the other. I'm still mostly wet from being rained on, so it doesn't faze me that I'm getting even more soaked by the running water. I bend down and peel Yamato's clothing off. It's a difficult process, but I grit my teeth and get on with it.

By now, Yamato would have joked that I was stripping him, or that I was taking advantage of him...but he keeps quiet, silently staring at the ceiling. When he's completely naked I lightly touch his cheek. "Hey, it's time for you to shower, Yamato."

His blue eyes shifts to my face, eyes clearer. Recognition flares, like he remembers that I'm here, and then his face twists into something that resembles guilt. The same face he makes whenever he apologises to me, saying sorry, like the reason he exists is something that he regrets.

He kneels up, embracing me. We almost lose our balance as the water hazes onto us. Yamato breathes into my hair, "I don't deserve you. Why do you even bother?"

At least he's talking again, even if he is moping. I hug him back before wriggling out of his grasp, smiling as I gaze up into his blue eyes.

"Ishida, you'll deserve me once you get yourself cleaned up for dinner."

A small simper breaks onto his face as I transit to the bedroom. At least his mood is better.

Leaning forward, I give him a peck on the cheek again before stepping out of the bathtub. I undress out of my drenched clothing, patting myself dry with a spare towel, and pulling on a baggy NASA logo shirt that I had also swiped from his wardrobe. With the towel, I dry the trail of wet footprints I had left behind, and once there's not a single drop of water left, I head to the kitchen, hunting the area for anything I can use to make some food.

Turns out, most of Yamato's ingredients are complicated for me to even comprehend. There are herbs that I've never heard the names of. Meat in the freezer, but I didn't want to cook it because I'd have to wait for it to defrost. I like to make simple meals because getting fancy with my limited culinary makes me impatient. This is why I stick to my salads - not because I'm a super health freak (that the girls claim me to be), but because I'm too lazy to conjure something up.

"Instant ramen, Takenouchi?"

I let out a yelp when Yamato suddenly sticks his head over my shoulder.

"And popcorn," I boast, even though it's nothing worth gloating over. Food is food, at least.

"My favourite," he comments, chuckling.

At least he's joking around now. He's in the clothes I've laid out for him. And, boy, does he look tired, but the soft brightness in his eyes is an improvement.

Yamato demolishes the bowl of noodles I hand to him. From the way he's eating, it's like he hasn't eaten anything for days. Something makes me wonder whether the media has been threatening him earlier, prior to Satou finding out. Had Yamato been ignoring their calls and messages that they had decided to take it upon themselves to contact his manager?

Yamato migrates to the sofa, eyelids heavy, like he's too exhausted to sit up any longer. I join him on the sofa, and he re-positions himself, sprawling over the tiny space and resting his head onto my lap.

I start, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

Maybe another time, I would have let this slide. But not now.

"Then when will you?" I say, combing my fingers through his damp hair. I'm over it. We keep avoiding the topic and how can I understand how he is feeling when he never wants to talk about it? If we're to be together, I need him to be honest with me. I can't keep going on, pretending nothing has happened. If he's going through hell, I want him to tell me because then we can figure it out together, because then we can fight his demons as a team.

"The what do you want me to talk about?" Yamato mumbles. He's being cranky, but I know that I have the right to know because I've been the one who has stuck by him when he was falling apart just now. I've been the one there for him, and he can't just toss me aside. I'm not letting it happen again, not after all we've gone through.

"Anything, everything? I don't know," I snap back. "At least when we talk things out, things don't get misinterpreted. I hated it when you wouldn't talk to me, when you refused to see me at the clinic."

Great one Sora. Bring it up now…

He remarks back, "And whose fault is that? You didn't even want to give me a chance."

And, just like expected, Yamato's not willing to let this go either.

"I did you give you a chance." I contend, "You just weren't ready."

"Oh, I was ready. It was you – you're the one who kept rejecting me! I offered you more than one chance. I gave you multiple," Yamato rebukes. "You were ignoring it, pretending that all the signs I was giving you were nothing! How would I know that you wanted to be with me, when you didn't even seem to know what you wanted yourself? What the hell was I meant to do?"

Well, hasn't he flipped? Before he was all quiet and defenceless, and now he's done a one-eighty and is being a dick. If he wants to play this way, so be it. I push him away, not caring that I've dropped his head unceremoniously onto the sofa.

He groans, massaging his neck, about the same time as I blurt out, "You're the one who blacklisted me! You think I don't know what you're doing, Yamato? You're trying to change the subject. You're getting me worked up because you don't want to talk about it to me! How long are you going to keep this up? If you want to be with me then-"

I clamp my hand over my mouth, but Yamato's already heard what I've said. He sits up. I attempt to scoot away, but he places his legs on top of mine from fully escaping. He arches an eyebrow and recites what I've just said back to me, "If you want to be with me...? Are you threatening that we break up already?"

"Don't be stupid! I never said that!" I stutter.

He glowers. "Then what are you trying to imply? I don't know what's ticking in your mind, Sora. I'm not a mind reader."

"I don't know how your mind works either!" I exclaim back. I breathe in, then out. I soften the tone in my voice, "Then shouldn't we work on this then? Shouldn't we talk things out..."

We're a couple, or so it appears to be, but we've really got to fix up our communicating skills if we want to keep being together. There's a glint in Yamato's eyes, but he doesn't resist my words. He knows that I'm right, that the more we keep pettily fighting, nothing will be resolved.

He caves in, "What do you want to know about then?"

"Kaori," I respond. "Tell me about Kaori."

Yamato says her name in a strained voice. He gazes up at the ceiling, legs stretching outwards. "Satou-san said that he showed you the article..."

"Not all of it," I explain. "I was hoping you'd tell me first. I'd rather hear about the article from the real source himself, not something written and, potentially, made up. I want to hear it from you."

"Well, the article did a great job at fucking me up," he bitterly comments. I don't reply, urging him to keep speaking. He exhales, eyes becoming distant as he starts to speak more, "I think I just wasn't expecting it...to see her face. I hadn't seen it for years. I had forgotten how she looked, even in my dreams she's now a blur, but seeing her like that I- I just couldn't deal with it."

"Because you loved her?"

I always knew he had. She's been the invisible girl, appearing in his dreams, occupying his mind. An opponent that I couldn't fight because she was no longer alive. I wished I could because then maybe I'd be able to shake the hold that she had over Yamato, so that Yamato could move on, so that Yamato could let her go.

He mumbles, "I did. She had a sweet tooth, but hershey kisses were her favourite. She was horrible at singing, liked to wear all black because it was easier to fade into the background, and because it was easy to match with everything, claiming she was sophisticated because of her fashion sense, but boy...she wasn't. You wouldn't believe the many times I had to pull her aside from getting accidentally run over by a car. And her laugh, it reminded me of soft chimes, dancing in the wind."

I had interrogated Yamato about her, but I hadn't expected him to actually keep going on and on about her. I thought he'd resist, and not talk about her. Yet, here he was...spilling his heart out about his former lover. And as much as it was cathartic for him, it was also cathartic for me - to be let on his little secret, of somebody he had once loved. Albeit slightly jealous of how much he cared about her, him expressing everything made me feel relieved.

He doesn't stop talking. "But Kaori wasn't the type who liked attention drawn onto her. She already received enough bad looks from students because of her mother's career as a gravure idol. There were a lot of people who talked bad about her, even though they didn't know her. I mean, I can't say she was completely innocent too. We did crazy things together. We were young...we were both going through shit - but she understood me, you know?"

I didn't, so I kept listening to him divulge more about the girl that he had loved.

"Her art was incredible. All those painting she'd paint from a blank canvas, they all had meanings. They were never for display; they were her own private collection - until I found out the school had been exhibiting her art pieces. That irritated the fuck out of me. And, already in a foul mood, it had to be the same night I found you with Sebastian."

Guilt surges in my stomach and I send him a glance, he shakes his head. I reach over for him, squeezing his hand.

"But it's been a rough few days, with the media wanting to bring her out into the spotlight. She wouldn't have wanted this. The fact that those assholes want to print her face for everybody to see, the fact that they...they're only describing her as a gravure idol's daughter, and my ex – I can't stand that idea, Sora. There's so much more to her than that. She's already been through so much, and even now that her body is resting in her grave, the media wants to fuck with the memory? How come? Why? I feel so darn powerless because if I put up a fight, the stronger they'll resist and would want to make a story out of it; out of her..."

"We can stop this."

"No, we can't. I know the media and what they're capable of. And, on top of this all, what pisses me off the most is that she's a memory. Kaori is dead and there's nothing I can do about it. I could have stopped it, I-" He stops speaking, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Breaking free from his legs holding me down, I dominate his grasp, manoeuvring myself next to him. Extending an arm, I wrap it around his lean frame, bringing him nearer to me. Yamato opens his eyes again, staring down at me.

I say softly. "Yamato, it's not your fault she died."

"You don't understand. I was selfish for leaving her," he says. "I still feel her blood on my hands. Countless nights I've woken up to her screaming."

He shudders, recalling the memory, the nightmare that he's lived over and over again for God knows how long. He had a fair reason to be traumatised if he was there on the night; if he had witnessed her fall.

However, what's done is done. Although Yamato blames himself, it wasn't him he made the final call, who chose to fall from the balcony - that had all been Kaori. Sure, she had wanted to end her life, but had she ever thought about the people who she had left behind? About Yamato?

"I remember cradling her limp body, I remember them pulling her away from me and I...I didn't want to let go. I couldn't stand it; that she left, that she took the easy way out. That she left me. I thought, I thought that I was more to her than that...and the last look on her eyes when she fell, I saw her face...I saw that she had regretted it. That's what eats me the most, Sora."

Then she shouldn't have jumped. I wanted to say that, but I knew that would be too harsh and too insensitive for me - especially not when Yamato isn't in the best state. I tone it down and say, "Kaori's accountable for her actions though."

"Usually people feel sad about her passing, feel sorry for her...but why are you talking about Kaori like she's wrong?"

"Maybe because I never knew her. Though, what I do know is that killing yourself is never the correct option. This isn't your fault. She made the decision to end her life, not you Yamato."

He angles his head to the side, staring at me thoughtfully before gazing away from me again. He says in a quiet voice, "Why are you still even here, Sora?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm talking about my ex. How can you stand this...that we're talking about her?"

I point out, "My ex kissed me, isn't that worse?"

For the first time today, he actually laughs. It's a good sound, refreshing almost. How I had missed it.

Yamato scowls, laughter fading, but the weight of his body feels less tense. "I hated you so much for that you know?"

"I would hate me for it too. And I still do...I don't know what came over me," I admit. "We had a good thing going on, and I had to do something stupid like that. I'm sorry, Yamato."

"No, I should be the one who is sorry. Yes, that did fuck me up...but what I did to you. The fact, that instead of properly talking to you I ended up shooting up."

I flinch at the thought, but I don't rebuke him. It's good to finally apologise, but Yamato had been wrong too. And him finally touching on what had happened is still like rubbing salt to an open wound.

Yamato keeps speaking, "It wasn't only you. A lot went on. Everything had been tumbling down already for me; everything was a mess. I was avoiding my therapy sessions. Takashi was no longer around. The school had kept Kaori's paintings. My mother had another go at me-I thought I was fine, but seeing you with him made everything worse. But, you know what, I was falling apart anyway...I think being with you only delayed the process. I needed help, but I hadn't reached out for it. And, to think that I actually believed I was fine-"

"I'm sorry." I hated to know that him finding me with Sebastian triggered him. And although he's saying that it isn't entirely my fault, I feel like I've contributed in a way, and it doesn't sit well in my stomach. None of it does.

"No, I should be the one who was sorry. Sora, I was so scared how I hurt you that night..." He frowns, eyes flickering with a pained look as he scrutinises me again with his deep, blue eyes. "It wasn't the fact that I didn't force you into sleeping with you, like you've told me...it was the fact that I don't remember. I get patches of what happened, of what I had done, and in those moments that I do remember, I had been fuelled with anger. I remember how you looked at me, hurt, confused. I hated it. That's what haunted me the most."

"Hey," I whisper, kissing him on the cheek. "That's enough, Yamato. It's over. I'm still here now, aren't I? Didn't I tell you that we can get past this?"

"I..how can I? I treated you like shit and I still talk about Kaori." He furrows his eyebrows, like what I've said seems to not be true. He shakes his head, shoulders anchoring downwards, and breathing out slowly, he responds, "I don't know why do you even care about me."

"Why?" I shrug and simply say, "I just do."

The period I had spent without Yamato really had taken a toll on me more than I had imagined it to. It had been worse than when I had broken up with Sebastian.

Although I thought I was fine, the thought of Yamato was always on the back of my mind. Despite all the hell that we've gone through, particularly on his side, I still wanted to be with him and the thought of separating from him again pained me. He understood me like not many people did. He got my snark remarks, my actions, me as a person. And it had frightened me because usually good things that happen to me screw up – or I screw it up. It's one way or the other, I guess. How Yamato and I instantly connected, how quickly we got along. That had scared me...it had scared me how quick it had been for me to fall in love.

"Anyway," I add, lips arching upwards at my own cheesiness, "just thinking about being apart from you, I don't think I could bare it."

"Really?" Yamato studies me, mouth trying to fight a smile. "Because I don't think I can bare being apart from you either, Sora."

In response, he positions me between his legs, slowly bringing my body to rest down on his. When I'm laying on top of him, he hums quietly, and I can't help but smile into his chest.

How fragile we are.

There's never been anybody that I could fully allow in, to break my walls and get to see the real me. Yamato always knew me. He mightn't have known the whole drama about my engagement, but everything else...he interpreted me with ease, and I felt comfortable with him doing so. And now, hearing him voice his words, his thoughts that haunted him, it made me realise that he's more damaged than he appears, but his strength is that he's always moving forward, determined to get past all the obstacles in his life for a better future – and that's another reason why I find him quite the commendable guy, somebody I can't help but be attracted to.

My heart is racing as he kisses me then and there, lips soft and smirking that he's caught me off guard. I giggle into the kiss, relaxing as he holds me, savouring him as his tongue tips into my mouth and our breathing becomes laboured. As much as I care for him, I know that he cares for me too.

And that's more than enough for me.

.

.

I wake up first, squinting in the dark, trying to figure out my bearings.

Yamato is sleeping soundly besides me on the couch. We had kissed all night, but hadn't hit third base. I'm not surprised by this though. Ever since Yamato and I had begun dating again for attempt two, we had never gone all the way. Understandable at first because it was something I was still trying to adjust to – the fact that I was with him again. The fact that he could possible hurt me again, like he had. But slowly, my trust returned. He was never rough with me, almost as if he was scared he'd break me. He'd hesitate, eyes asking for permission each time. He treated me like a queen, and there were times I'd snap at him for hesitating too much.

I don't blame him though...however, sometimes I did wish for him just to get on with it. Whenever we'd be this close to it, Yamato would withdraw himself from him, leaving me in a needy mess. Funny how they talk about males having a big sexual drive. There are times when I'm probably worse.

However, this is nice too. Having him close, feeling his breathe against me with his arm tucked, secured around my waist. I don't think I'll ever get sick of it. Last night, we had made out a lot, but we had been mainly preoccupied holding each other. It was sedating; it was calm. Even prior to our big fight, my favourite moments were when we'd snuggle and talk garbage talk to each other, laughing. Call me a romantic but – oh, maybe I just am smitten like hell.

I trace his cheekbones and strong jaw line with a finger until I hear another person clear their throat behind me.

"You're together again? That's good." I recognise Takeru's voice in an instant. I grimace when his face looms over Yamato and I, hovering over our states with a wide, smug smile. I really need to remind Yamato to change his locks. I tear myself away from his older brother.

Although Takeru is amused, there's a look of relief in his eyes. "Jun called me. She was trying to find him. I thought I'd check here again."

Because I'm assuming Satou hadn't, I quickly grab my phone out and text Jun that Yamato's with me. I should have told her because she's probably been worrying about this all evening.

I gaze up at Takeru and watch as he paces up and down the living room. "No need to stress now, Takeru. He had a breakdown, but Yamato's fine now. The media had threatened to publish stuff about Kaori..."

He nods, acting calm. But I don't buy it. He resembles Yamato when he's lying. One eyebrow is furrowed and the corner of his mouth is twitching. However, it's the dark bags under his eyes that give him away. Takeru's worn out, and it's most likely something to do prior to the Yamato search.

"Takeru, are you alright?"

He dryly laughs at the question. "I don't know. I'm not used to it when Yamato has a break down. He's always the one supporting me, and everybody else. I honestly don't know what to do when he acts like this...and I still don't know what to do."

I turn to glimpse at Yamato's sleeping face. I admit, "Same here...but I think he'll be alright."

"Thanks," Takeru murmurs, running his fingers through his hair. "I didn't know what to do. Yamato and I aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment I still want to be angry at him and mother, but when Jun and Satou-san contacted me, I couldn't ignore it."

As soon as he's divulged this, I can tell he regrets it. This is news I didn't know. Yamato and Takeru not talking? For as long as I've known, the two brothers had always gotten along. Them not speaking didn't make sense.

"A fight?"

"Not really," Takeru says, strolling into the kitchen. From his actions, I know he wants me to let go of this. I leave Yamato's side and follow him behind him anyway. I angle my neck, facing him so that he'll stop avoiding my eye contact. "Then what, Takeru?"

"A disagreement. To be honest, I'm more upset at my mother. As for Yamato, I'm just irritated that he's been withholding something from me he should have just told me about," Takeru explains. "Now, let's see where his tea is at. Let's share some tea, then I'll go home. Hikari's waiting. She needs me to help get the kids to sleep."

He goes through Yamato's drawers like the apartment is his. Upon opening the first, he complains that all he can spot is coffee beans and that Yamato's coffee addition is worse than the drugs (although it might be too early for this comment, Takeru has never been one to hold back his sarcasm). When Takeru digs through the second drawer, he looks displeased with the small quantity of tea bags. None of Yamato's limited selection seems to impress him. "Shit flavour, shit, another shit one...ah, what's this?"

Takeru's hand reaches further into the drawer, pulling a plastic bag. He raises an eyebrow when he notices a label on the bag. "Can I try this tea, Sora? Orange oolong tea? Looks like it's yours since it has your name on it."

"Mine?" I blink.

I take the plastic bag in my hands, taking the contents out. Along with orange cylinder tin of tea, a receipt also slides out. I don't recognise the tea brand, the cost of it is a bit on the pricey end, but its the date that I glimpse. I glance at Yamato, who is still deep in a deep. I smile. Yes. He had bought the tea before our fall out...yet he had kept it in his drawer all this time?

"Can I?"

"Maybe just stick to the black tea bags?" I tell Takeru. "He hasn't given it to me yet."

"I see," Takeru chuckles. "At least it's not one of your fetish maid outfits that I've discovered this time..."

Rolling my eyes, I hit him on the shoulder. "Shut up."

.

.

(a/n) Sorry! This chp turned out longer than I expected. Went on a massive holiday, and it took me a while to get back onto the writing train. Hope you all have been well!

Actually, I had this chp on my computer for a while...but I wasn't completely happy with it. To be honest, still am not..but I think it's partly because I'm having trouble letting go of this story because it's coming to an end soon. Estimating one or two more chps left?

Thank you for reading :)

P.S. On another note (if you're bored) fanficradio, on youtube, has audiobooked the first chapter to my story 'Taxi Driver'. I feel privileged and oh so grateful for the team for making the effort to actually use my story to audiobook. It was quite an interesting experience having the narrator repeat the words I've written. Sometimes I forget what I even write, so it was heck amusing.

...

Old Guest: Thank for dropping by, old guest :) Yes, I'd probably go crazy too..but I'm sure the two were also preoccupied in each other as well, if you know what I'm saying. Haha. It's been one hell of a ride. Thank you for putting up with this story and reading it through. xox

(other logged in reviewers, will reply tomorrow. thanks for reading!)