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[LIFELINES]

chapter thirty-six: unknown resentment

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It started with one photo.

I remember going through my mail and watching the photo slip out of the stack of letters, right under the electricity bill. I had picked it up from the lobby floor, and it had taken me a split second to realise that it was a photograph of Jun.

My friend's face was not visible. In fact, she was photographed from behind. The only reason why I could tell it was her was from her spiky, copper hair. Not often people had their hair styled in this fashion, nor was copper a common colour. Anyway, from the photo, Jun's arm was around a person's waist. As I had continued to survey the photo longer, I later realised that the other person was undoubtedly me.

What made me notice that it was me was from the clothing - a simple pair of black jeans topped with a dark grey hoodie and black jeans. The hoodie covered my head. The only reason why I knew it was me was because I remember handpicking the hoodie from a vintage store when I was a teen - and it had become my favourite hoodie, that even to this day, I wear it on a regular basis.

I could immediately pinpoint the location too. Some Starbucks in the business district of Shinagawa. The band members, including Jun, used to frequently congregate at the particular Starbucks because paparazzi had never caught on to our hideout...

Even then, I surmised, it was an old photo. It had to be at least four years old because I don't even remember the last time I had strolled down that district. Even if somebody from the paparazzi had captured the image from a while back, the media would not be able to trace it back to me because my face was not showing. And, with that in mind, I waved the photo off, thinking it was nothing to be concerned about. And empty threat...although I should have. I don't know why, at that time, it hadn't occurred to me that the media (or whoever was targeting) knew my address. But, you know, sometimes the meds I go on can make my mind fuzzy. Sometimes it's hard to think straight.

And then the second photo appeared a couple of days later…

It was a photo of Takashi. I instantly knew it was an old shot.

Takashi looked younger in this one. His eyes more clear, and aware, as he sat poised on a barstool. From the grungy background and posters plastered on the brick wall behind him, I knew that it had been taken from one of the local gigs – wawy before KOD had become big. He was nursing his favourite red electric, having traded it for an old acoustic. I could tell that from the minor chord he was in the midst of strumming, the song had to be 'Summer Blues'. It was our first KOD song that he had composed for the band. But it wasn't that what got to me...it was the way how Takashi was widely smiling in the photo – how his eyes crinkled and how he didn't look skeletal, lacking the sunken cheeks and pale face that he possessed now.

I had become wary by then, but I didn't know what to do. I kept pretending this wasn't happening to me. I didn't want to deal with it yet.

...until a third photo emerged in my mail.

Well, it wasn't actually a third. More like a third and fourth. The two photos were of Sora.

My skin was prickling by then.

It was finally piecing in my mind that this person knew me. Enough that they knew the location of where I lived, the person also had captured an old photo of Takashi, and had two photos of Sora.

One of the photos was from that time when Sora and I were at the Batting Cage (Yeah, that time shortly after Mimi and Taichi had eloped and they wanted to make it up to us). Anyway, in the photo, Sora had the bat in hand...but I was also there, repositioning her, correcting her stance. Although it wasn't all that suggestive, it felt intrusive that somebody had taken the photo during a somewhat intimate moment.

As for the other photo?

It's a recent one, stemming from the night that Sora and I had gone on that blind date – it was a photo of us facing each other as we laughed, talking over takoyaki.

I investigated the photos, looking for any clue...and it become more than apparent when I saw messy text written behind the last photo, reading 'You shouldn't be happy.'

Natsuki...

How long had she been stalking us? How long had she been bitter from what happened between Takashi and myself? How long has she held this resentment towards me? I don't blame her for thinking it's my fault, but I had never known she had taken tabs on myself and the people around me for such a lengthy period. Kaori and I had contributed to Takashi's downfall. We had gotten him hooked...so it made sense that Natsuki was after my case. But why now?

It was a sick joke.

I hoped the photos would stop...but they didn't.

Natsuki was determined to make my life hell, regularly reminding me of how I had screwed her brother over.

I didn't want anybody to know about it. I thought I could solve it myself. I thought she'd get bored of sending them to me, and stop (she didn't). I thought if I gave her a chance, if I took her aside and spoke to her on a personal level she would cease fire. I knew that if I brought more people into the mix, she would not listen and threaten me more.

That was why, I thought the best way to approach this problem was by seeking Takashi's sister out myself.

Since the last I heard, I knew Takashi had shared his apartment with her - so it was the first place I'd go to trace her whereabouts. So I followed my gut and here I am, walking towards Takashi's apartment.

I'm feeling a bit light-headed. I'm not ready for a confrontation, but I can't let this go on any longer. I want to know what's going on with her. Maybe I should have upped my anxiety tablets today. Who knows? I should have consulted with my therapist or with Seiji or Satou-san.

However, I can't find myself absconding from the situation. I needed to fix this. I need to do this for her, for Takashi...for myself.

As I ambled on closer to the apartment – I realised I didn't even have to knock on the door. Natsuki was already loitering at the front. Pacing back and forth, she ended up sitting down on the top doorstep. Her elbows rested on her knees, taking a long drag from her cigarette. As she takes it away from her mouth, it's then that our eyes meet.

The calm expression on her face completely deteriorates.

As I awkwardly lift my hand in greeting, Natsuki releases her cigarette from between her fingers. Before it's about it to hit the ground, her body is lunging towards me.

"FUCK YOU, YAMATO!" She shrieks out chaos.

Let's just say my initial plan has definitely backfired.

Her arms fling out, hands attempting to wring around my neck. I stop her in time, gripping her wrists to stop her from choking me.

I'm baffled by this all. Natsuki is strong. If I hadn't been training with Taichi on a daily basis, I wouldn't haven't been able to hold her back.

She leers at me, eyes wild and livid. How will I get her to talk to me calmly when her glares at me look like they can kill. Maybe I should have gotten one of the boys to accompany me. How naïve I am to think that I could have handled this myself...

"Calm down, Natuski," I try to keep my tone steady, even though I feel like I'm about to fall apart. "Can we take this inside?"

She yells back, incredulously. "Don't tell me to fucking calm down! If you didn't exist my life wouldn't be this fucked up!"

"What do you want from me then?" I reply, not knowing what else to do. Because she's triggered, she's going to keep relenting, no matter what I do. "What can I do to help? I can try and get-"

She pushes me back from her. Instead of going in for another attack, she swivels on her heels, yanking the front door open. She's about to slip in, but my foot holds the door ajar. She glares at me. I'm intruding, but fuck. I wiggle my body through the gap and shut the door behind me.

"Get the fuck out of my house!"

"If you want to accuse me of everything, that's fine," I say, gritting my teeth. "But you've got to tell me why."

"Do I really have to break it down for you?" She sneers. "I was there! I was there that night you and your fucking dead girlfriend were high. I was there when you encouraged my brother to take it-"

"Huh?" I blink. I know Kaori and I had influenced Takashi to take something, though I don't remember much of it - and it also never occurred to me that his sister had been at that party...if that's the one she's talking about.

I really don't remember her being there. Kaori and I had been off our faces, and we had encouraged our guitarist to get high along with us. Kaori and I had been so absorbed in our own worlds, everything else had faded in the background when I was with her, and when we were high. I wouldn't be surprised if we kept egging Takashi to take what we had been taking. We were young and stupid...but it had effected him more than we had anticipated.

And we obviously affected her too. Natsuki had always looked up to Takashi. God forbid that Takeru never followed my footsteps.

"If you hadn't gotten him addicted, I wouldn't be in this shithole! I wouldn't be lost in debt. I'd be-"

I don't know anything about this. It's no wonder she despises the hell out of me. All this time Natsuki has been struggling from how Kaori and I had affected Takashi. However, I don't get why she wants to sabotage me now.

I lift my gaze and notice her arms.

No. She's not like this just because of me or Takashi...she's on something too. Her lips are chapped, skin gaunt. She can't hide this information from me because I know, oh too well, from the needle marks on her arms. I once had them too. I don't hesitate to ask her, "What are you on?"

There's more to this story. Yes, Takashi had been abusing his substances...but he shared the same house as Natsuki. They had most likely influenced each other - just like how Kaori and I had done in the past. Just how I had kept doing it recreationally when I couldn't deal with the world...just how it had let to my own downfall.

"You should get help, Natsuki." I feel foolish preaching this to her (as I'm one to speak of it), but I am concerned about her wellbeing. Takashi wouldn't want her to see her like this. If something like this happened to Takeru, I wouldn't know what to do with myself.

"What I should be getting is money."

And there it is. Her real reason. She couldn't rely on Takashi because he was in rehab, which meant her source of income had gone down the drain. Takashi hadn't mentioned anything about her working. Had she been clinging and leaching onto him this whole time?

"I don't want to pay to facilitate your addiction," I say, jaw taut. "But I will if it's for a rehab program-"

"If you give me money, I'll leave you the fuck alone. I'll stop sending you photos." Her threats are finally out in the open.

I question back, "And if I don't?"

"I'll make it known about Sora to the paparazzi. I'll tell everybody how you were a user. I'll spill about Kaori-"

"Stop." I can't take this. Her threats will cause more issues - especially when I haven't completely dealt with all those issues on my own terms. Having the public involved will make my mentality head straight back to disaster again. I can't have it. I can't let this happen. Saito and Seiji had already put so much effort into hiding the story about Kaori's suicide, and now…

Natsuki's still glaring at me. From the way she's looking at me, I know she's not joking. There's resentment harboured within her wild eyes. "Take it or leave it, Yamato."

I'm tempted to pay her. Having as little people involved is what I wanted. However, I know this pattern will continue with her. She'll keep asking for money, and with that money she'll buy more drugs. The pattern will go on and on again. Yes...Takashi would have not wanted this for her. Not at all.

I shake my head. "No, Natsuki. This is not the right way to do it."

She scoffs, "And what makes you think that you can tell from right or wrong? I know you. I know what you've done-"

"This won't help anything. Your brother will get involved too. The media will hunt him down and-"

"So what?!" She exclaims. "I'm giving you one last chance. Pay up and I'll leave this all alone."

My shoulders droop, body aching for the tension that's been radiating down my back this whole time I've been talking to her. If this is how she's going to play, so be it. I still won't concede to her wishes...if she chooses to sabotage me, fine. I'll find another way to do it. I'll see if I can get to the media sources first. Pay them up – just not her. But what about Sora...what about Kaori? What can I do? I've bitten more than I can chew, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't at least try and stop Natsuki from getting worse. Funding her for her addiction isn't the way to go, so I decide to stand my ground. After all, that's what I'm supposedly good at. I'm a veteran whenever it comes to surviving the world fucking you over.

She asks, "So are you going to pay me?"

"No."

"Then get out."

I don't protest this time, turning from her and leaving out the door. Everything's gone to shit, but it is what it is.

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After my talk with Takashi's sister, I was getting little sleep. This meant that my schedule would change here and there. This meant I sometimes missed my morning meds.

I was paranoid, with the constant feeling of anxiety clouding my head. One small tip or nudge, and I'd be drowning in it.

Natsuki had kept her promise. She kept sending me photos. They would appear infrequently and during unexpected periods.

On her good day it would be Takashi, on a worse day...it would be either Kaori or Sora. I still get traumatised whenever Kaori's photos are slipped in my mail. Especially whenever I see them, I find myself associating them to when I'd be holding my old lover in my arms - still and lifeless. However, from the photos, Kaori projected a liveliness that made me feel ill to the stomach. Mainly because the warning photos would contrast against reality, and did not deny my headspace into thinking that she was dead.

Again and again.

I lost it when it was a CD. Because the CD had a series of fan clips, television interviews, and live performances. The one that hit really close to home was when it was a recording from the audience. The video had panned onto Kaori. It was just prior to KOD's debut, so the crowd was small...but watching Kaori move had sent me in a spiral for a couple of days. During those days, I distanced myself from everybody and told them I was working. It was a half truth. Work distracted me from worrying about Natsuki.

I could have gotten a restraining order; but Takashi wouldn't have wanted that upon his sister. Besides, if the media were to catch onto that type of news that the former main singer of KOD and the lead guitarist's sister were in a dispute...chaos would definitely ensue. (Not like I'm already living in chaos as it is). I avoided telling Satou-san and Seiji-san because I didn't want to cause them any trouble. I've already bothered them enough. And, since Natsuki is technically targeting me, I wanted to resolve this on my own...even if it has to do with gradually self-sabotaging myself again.

"You're quieter today," Sora observes, breaking my cluster of thoughts.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm a bit slow at the moment," I mumble. "It's just the meds-"

"If you're tired, I can go…"

I sigh, shaking my head. "No. Stay."

I've already been a bit of a dick to her. She had surprised me, and had made an effort to go all the way to mine on a work night. When she buzzed me from downstairs, I had met her at the bottom of the elevators to help carry the takeout fried chicken and beer. She's a miracle. Just when I was having a shit day, it was like she instinctively knew what to do to cheer me up.

That, and well...I'd be stupid to not see the moves she's been making on me. There are times, when I touch her, I feel like I'll break her...that my fingerprints will leave marks, that I'll bruise her. I know she's probably getting impatient with me, and I feel horrible - but I can't just shake that night off. I'm scared to lose control. And, right now, as much as I'm happy she's in my life again, I don't feel comfortable with myself. I feel unstable.

She doesn't see me as a threat though. She crawls back onto the sofa.

"Fine. You've got to tell me what's on your mind then…"

A sly smile flickers on her lips as she straddles me, arms around my neck. I gulp. Sora's making it really difficult for me. I rest both palms onto the sofa, sitting up straighter and adjusting myself so that she can't feel the growing bulge in my pants. Fucking hell. She really isn't making this easy for me at all.

I clear my throat, offering her a tight smile. "Thinking is impossible when you're on me like this."

"Like what?" she drawls, kissing my neck.

I groan. "Sora, you know what I mean."

She sighs, scooting away from me, but she doesn't leave my lap. If this were a different situation, I know it would have been the opposite. However, I'm willing to take things slow this time. I don't want to screw up what we have again.

Sora laughs, "Sorry. I can't stop thinking about how attractive you were the other night."

"What?"

"When you were in the orchestra pit for the musical," Sora admits to me. Her blunt honesty makes my cheeks heat up. "There's a glow to you. Whenever you play music or are in the studio, you become really absorbed in your art. It's hot."

I roll my eyes. She laughs at me because she knows it's making me cringe.

She's referring to the other night when I had to step in for the orchestra's guitarist for Miho's musical. I had helped them out because they were one guitarist down, so I covered and had sweated bullets as I would sight-read on the spot. It was lucky that Sora and I had been to the same musical a handful of times (to support Miho), that I had a general idea of how each of the sheet music sounded.

Anyway, once I had come back to the seats after the show was over, Sora was slightly fangirling over me (years of being in the industry had exposed me to these signs). Funny because I had never witnessed her act like this. Her whole atmosphere was suggestive and flirting, from the way she eyed me down to the way she was a bit more touchy than usual. She definitely had wanted to take me to bed, but I had been an ass and turned her down.

And yeah, I still feel guilty as fuck for doing that. Even now, I feel like a shit person for not taking on her advances...but I need to be strong and persevere. I don't like her worrying about me. I'm suddenly itching for a drink...or a cigarette. Or both? Once this Natsuki issue is settled, then maybe-

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

Sora's too perceptive for her own good. The way she's looking at me with her concerned eyes; and I see the reflection of myself in them - how hideous I am; and how easily I can ruin her.

"Yamato," she sighs.

I choose to kiss the tip of her nose instead of speaking.

Sora grumbles. "I know you're lying, but I'll let it slide this time. I'm exhausted from work so I'm not in the mood to quarrel with you."

We continue watching our Scream marathon. It's a classic, and we're half paying attention to it. I swear, both of us are alternatively drifting in and out of sleep.

I wake up the next morning. The popcorn bowl is empty, and Sora's still snuggled against my chest. She's cute like this. I quietly maneuver myself so that she doesn't fall, replacing my body with a cushion. My bones ache when I stand up from being in a sitting position all night. I suppress a moan, stretching my arms. As I lean to stretch my back, I almost yell out loud when I see my mother in the kitchen.

Her knowing smirk is horrible. It's almost as intolerable as Takeru and Taichi's smirk combined. She points at Sora and whispers, "Who's she?"

"That blind date," I murmur.

My mother smiles. "Are you free in two weeks for dinner? On a Saturday night?"

"I think I am? Why?" I ask her. I can't think of any special occasion why she'd want us to have dinner. These days, she usually barges into my apartment without informing me anyway. This is highly suspicious of her…

"Keep it free," my mother instructs me. She points at Sora, sleeping soundlessly on the coach. "I want to meet her."

Ah fuck.

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The photos from Natsuki stopped. It was relieving. I thought that patiently sticking it through had earned for the matter to be forgotten. And, just when I had thought it had been swept under the rug, I soon was pestered again.

This time it wasn't from Natsuki or anybody I knew. As I approach the front of the studio, I see a middle-aged man dawdling by the door. He's wearing a grey suit, balding and has these oval shaped spectacles that don't sit well with his face shape. And, above all, he is smiling a fake smile. I wasn't seeing things when I had walked past a media van earlier. The company and I have done a good job at keeping the studio's location quiet, but it's been leaked now. Somebody's leaked the information, and I don't need to guess who is the culprit.

Natsuki's sold me out.

"Ishida-san, who was Kaori to you?"

The asshole isn't missing a beat - already digging his teeth into a story that isn't meant to be spoken out so carelessly. No shame about it whatsoever. He's asking me the question in a tone one asks about the weather. I grit my teeth, attempting to anchor down my temper from rising. My left hand nurses my other, keeping my utmost willpower at bay from throwing driving a punch into the man's face.

"Why don't you tell me?" I flick back at him.

He doesn't reply straight away, digging through his bag. Taking out a yellow envelope, he passes it to me and then decides to speak. "Perhaps look at this and we can compromise?"

"Compromise?" I raise an eyebrow at him. Of course they want to compromise.

My fingers grip tightly on the envelope. I want to shove it back in his face, but I can't stop my own curiosity. I want to know the information they have on me, my old band members...and Kaori. From the badge the man is wearing, I'm certain it's the same company that Satou and Seiji- san had paid up to cover up Kaori's suicide. The fact that they want to explore this topic again is cruel. Wasn't bothering us the first time more than enough?

I demand, "How much do you know?"

"Enough." The man actually has the nerve to smirk. The bastard. "There's a draft of the article in that envelope. We plan to release it next week until we reach an agreement."

"An agreement?" I snort at his irritating response. "And what does this agreement entail?"

"Just a simple interview about why you split up the band."

"I did not split the band," I snap. "It was a mutual agreement. Get your facts straight-"

"It doesn't matter. We know you were the face of Knife of Day. You went on to pursue a solo career for your own self gain-"

"And who told you this? Natsuki?" I chuckle coldly at him. "Like you know me. There's a reason why our band avoided interviews. We liked to focus on music, not this petty drama that you thrive on."

"We only request the truth."

"Right." I half tear the envelope, shuffling through the content. A CD, a handful of photos and the A4 paper article that the bastard had mentioned. All bits of information could potentially screw my friends, family and I over. This isn't good news at all. As much as I want to gut the man, I hold back. He has leverage here and he knows it.

"Which is why we'd like to interview you about KOD, Kaori-"

My heart drops when I see Sora's face amongst the photos. The label, my friends and I have worked so hard to keep our private life out of the limelight. What Natsuki had given the media company was substantial enough to screw everything up - and she obviously didn't care about that. She cared about money…and this made me even more furious. The media had given her funds to contribute to her addiction.

"How much did you give Natsuki?"

He shrugs. "That's confidential."

"Like my life?" I say.

"I only ask you, Ishida-san, to reconsider us interviewing you. I'll give you until Monday, and if you don't reply by then, we'll release the article and-"

"Get out of the way."

"You're not making this easier for yourself."

I stride past him, opening the door and shutting it on his face.

It's a better option than punching him, I tell myself - even if I badly want to punch that asshole's face in.


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(a/n) Sorry for the delay. I was trying to compress everything into one chapter, but it did not work. If you've read Bittersweet Catastrophe, you'll know that this chapter was basically all new info. Natsuki was always meant to be the person behind it all - but I had never explained this in Bittersweet because Natsuki was more related to Yamato's life. I had most of this chapter written for a while, but the last scene just wouldn't write itself. Not completely happy with this chapter, but the next chapter (and the one after that) should cover more loose ends - or I like to hope so. Haha. Anyway, thank you for still reading this weird story.

Happy New Year! Hope you've been well and (please) stay safe!

Review Reply
Ana Maria - Thank you xD I kinda wish it'll end soon, but somehow it keeps getting longer and longer.

(Will reply to reviews later today or tomorrow. thank you for reading!)