Disclaimer: Kanojo, Okarishimasu belongs to Miyajima Reiji.
Summary: It was as though a precious flower had withered, as though the sun had set. And at the same time it felt as if winter would stay forever, as if the sun would never rise again. You could fall in love in a moment and fall out of love just as fast. It took only one corny joke, one dumb remark for the spell to end. (A Chizuru&Kazuya non-romance)
A Solid S-Tier
by FS
(Oscaryme)
x.
"Evil starts when you begin to treat people as things."
by Terry Pratchett
x.
"Wow, you're still the Number One of the club! I've heard it's extremely hard to stay at the top for long."
"It's taken me a lot of work. I spend at least two hours on exercising, two hours on the shower and my hair, and two hours on my makeup for every date, you know."
She observes him as he beholds her hairdo and her perfect makeup in awe, studying her pink lip gloss, her soft glitter eyeshadow, and her gently curved lashes. Applying the foundation and blush so that both will look natural in the shifting light is the real challenge, but she doesn't share her little secrets with her customers.
She has always been the Number One of the establishment—at least whenever she is available (which means not often and never for a long stretch of time). Although she has only taken up the job of a hostess to prepare herself for a role, she has been enjoying this much more than expected. It feels similar to being a rental girlfriend; and she is more in control when it comes to negotiating how much her (platonic, intellectual) company will cost a man.
"Please let me buy the champagne tower for you! Just once!" He nervously flips through the menu, scanning the room for the waiter, who is respectfully keeping a distance. "Don't worry, I've saved up for this occasion."
"Please don't!" She knows he can't afford the most extravagant treat on the menu—or maybe he can now but he shouldn't spend all his money on alcohol. "I prefer a dinner and a souvenir instead." She indicates the jewellery showcase at the window with a mischievous smile and a practiced flicker of her wrist. "Will you buy this bracelet for me?"
At the mentioning of such a personal, intimate present, he flushes like he always did back then when he was infatuated with her, and she is overcome by nostalgia as memories flood her mind. It's like catching a whiff of a beloved perfume she hasn't smelled for a long time, or spotting a flash of red in a movie which has been black-and-white. Her heart misses a beat, but it only lasts for a second. Then she remembers, and she looks at his ring, and the walls are up again.
He gifts her the silver bracelet, which she puts on for him (she has chosen it because it's a pretty, inexpensive thing, the type of jewellery you would give your best friend). Afterwards they share a lavish dinner, which they spend on discussing the current state of Japanese cinema and gossiping about their acquaintances. His grandma is still very much into gacha games (and has acquired an impressive collection of strong waifus) although she is less energetic than she used to be. Sometimes she seems not entirely there, and that's tragic but to be expected at her age. Kibe has married a "very odd" girl, and their relationship is fraught albeit passionate…
The fish has died, alas, and Kazuya-san was devastated when it happened, but Kazuya-san owns a larger aquarium now, which is filled with plenty of other fish. Kazuya-san is under the impression that the fish will talk about him whenever he is away, a fact he has begun to find troubling, to say the least.
He also owns a few hermit crabs, whom he keeps in a large vivarium. Although he takes good care of them, the crabs will kill each other at times, which deeply saddens him. He regularly gets nightmares about them feasting on each other's bodies and stealing each other's shells. Maybe he has overcrowded their tank, or maybe they were lacking nutrients?
"Hermit crabs must be like people," she remarks. "They don't want to be lonely but they need their space, and they're unpredictable sometimes."
"I've been wondering why you pulled away when we were so close," he says all of a sudden, with no transition, as though the hermit crabs have reminded him of her, of them. "I saw you approaching me—you stopped before you wheeled around and walked off." He tries a weak smile and fails. "Your retreating back has been haunting me, always!"
He has often wondered whether he had done something wrong—whether he should have followed her and talked to her instead of letting her go like that. "I thought you only needed space to make up your mind, so I gave you space… But when I saw you again the next morning, everything had changed."
He was right that she needed time to think, she assures him, adding the classical "It wasn't you, it was me" with some embellishment to elevate the clichéd drabness of her speech: "I only found out what I didn't want from life, and I sensed what you wanted and knew I shouldn't lead you on."
x.
She remembers the dizzying infatuation, the adoration, the sense of trust—the conviction that he was the right one for her and that she had never loved anyone like this and would never feel the same again, not for another man. She was wrong about the first—she might be wrong about the last. The fact remains that, while there have been other men in her life (insignificant crushes which passed as fast as they came), she hasn't felt connected to other people.
"Is it true that you have an S-tier girlfriend, you lucky bastard? What does an S-tier woman see in a loser like you?"
"No idea what she sees in me—but she is an S-tier, of course!" Kazuya-san's good-humoured laugh and the voice he only used when he was among his male friends were unmistakable. "Even dressed down, she is nothing less than a perfect S-tier!"
"Dressed down? You mean undressed!"
"Oh, yes… Even undressed, she is a solid S-tier."
"All women look better when naked!"
It was such an innocuous remark, but the temperature seemed to have fallen by several degrees. A gulf opened up between them and grew until she felt removed from him and the rest of the world; and the walls she hadn't been aware of for a long time were back in place, enveloping herself as if they had never disappeared.
For a moment, she stopped and gazed inward to search for the love she once felt—in times like this, a minute could feel like a whole lifetime. She sincerely tried hard and found nothing—she didn't know if she had cooled down or sobered up. It was as though a precious flower had withered, as though the sun had set. And at the same time it felt as if winter would stay forever, as if the sun would never rise again. You could fall in love in a moment and fall out of love just as fast. It took only one corny joke, one dumb remark for the spell to end. Infatuation, even when it was intoxicating and profound, was essentially ephemeral.
She knew her value as a rental girlfriend—Kazuya-san loved the attention an "S-tier woman" like her drew to herself and, by extension, to him. She was his trophy (albeit fake) girlfriend he could flaunt, the woman who would make other men (and women) believe that he, Kinoshita Kazuya, was a hero and a stud. His prestige was enhanced by her hanging on his arm. The admiring smiles they attracted on the streets raised his testosterone level and his confidence. (Testosterone also happened to make you stupid—but it wasn't her job to improve his intelligence, was it?)
She once rejoiced in the knowledge that she was his ideal woman—but now she was acutely aware of what being a man's ideal entailed. He believed her to be the answer to all his questions—the elusive shadow he would forever chase, the mysterious, soulful being that would motivate him to grow into a worthier man. Her quirks are still endearing to him—her weaknesses and faults must be touching him deeply, awakening his protective instincts. Nothing could be more devastating to her than watching his disappointment grow with every passing day, than feeling him withdraw from her when he realised that she would never live up to his ideal.
She wasn't delusional enough to believe she could fight—it was only natural that humans would be repelled by what they were once intrigued by. She knew that even with a diva's skills and knowledge, she couldn't keep up with the current fashion forever, or withstand the erosion of time forever. Given time, her beauty would fade; Kazuya-san would grow tired of her charms if he no longer had to pay so much for a date, if he didn't only catch a glimpse of her dowdy, bespectacled, makeup-free everyday self once in a while but were exposed to it more than twice or three times a day. Biologically, the initial hormonal high at the start of an intimate relationship would invariably have to give way to a gentler, more sustainable sense of contentment. And men like Kazuya-san, who were accustomed to making grand gestures to entertain a beautiful woman they pursued, would quickly lose to the daily grind when they were no longer chasing.
For a minute, she coolly weighed up all the pros and cons of a relationship, wondered whether Kazuya-san and she could be happy together if they worked hard together at it—if they could treat their love like they treated a joint movie project instead of a pretty wildflower. The very thought of it exhausted her. Any movie project had to end after a few years whereas a relationship—the sort of relationship she was interested in—would have to last for the rest of her life. She detested never-ending TV-series whose quality slipped after the first season.
On the following day, their tentative romance ended. Driven by a grim sense of duty, she informed him that she was going to refocus her energy on her acting career. She had lost interest in dating—she told him in passing—although she would be looking for a partner in the same profession whenever she had the time to look. It would be nice to have a significant other who could share her passion—she would be searching for someone on her intellectual level, someone who could comprehend what she was talking of. To be seen with an attractive, successful actor or director would be beneficial for her future.
She could tell that her last statement had made all the difference. He pretended to be happy for her, observing that she seemed at peace now that she was following her own path. And though she knows she was right when she put a stop to something which couldn't last, his lifeless eyes have been haunting her in her dreams, reminding her that you only need one sentence to terminate love.
x.
"I thought you had feelings for me, too." Kazuya-san chuckles in embarrassment, scratching his head like he always did twenty years ago. "It's so silly of me, isn't it? I believed we were soul mates. I thought we complemented each other. I have, never again, felt the same about anyone else… Never!…"
His voice breaks and she falters; but since she is an accomplished actress, she regains her composure, flashes him a compassionate smile, and fleetingly touches his arm.
"Love doesn't work like this," she says in a firm voice. "You know it."
"That's true," he agrees, much to her surprise. "I was at the end of my wits after you moved away. I was so miserable that I thought I wouldn't survive. But Sumi, do you remember Sumi? Sumi was by my side. To me, she was only a rebound at first—someone to depend on so that I could endure living without you. But after spending a few years in her company, I realised that this was what I wanted. What I felt for you—that wouldn't have lasted. It was too fierce, too idealistic, too… unreal. I once believed I could have made you happy if I had given my all—but I never dared to believe that you could settle with me."
He proceeds to tell her all about his insecurities, about his feeling of never being good enough for her, about the humiliation he felt whenever she had to defend him against Mami-chan and other people who talked down to him while he could only bask in the glow of her blinding beauty and her intimidating strength. She was someone he only dared to protect when she was broken; he never felt worthy of her affection when she was happy and relaxed—he realised now that theirs would have been an unbalanced marriage.
Sumi is someone he can relate to and be comfortable with. Their dependency on each other was worrisome at first, but as the days went by, they discovered "how wonderful it was to have someone who had your back, who accepted you and adored you despite your faults, with whom you could tackle all the hurdles in your way…"
"Sumi and I, we both know how it feels to be anxious, how hard people like us have to fight to fit in, to do or say the simplest things, things other people can do easily." He didn't say "people like you", but she senses that this is what he has been thinking of. Sumi was even worse off than him when it came to social anxiety, which was why he felt the need to grow a backbone for them both. And together they've been able to look in the same direction, work on the same foundation, build a stable relationship they both have been enjoying for years. Sumi is no longer the mute girl unable to express herself. She is still staggeringly quiet, but her debilitating anxiety has made way for a gentle, calm attitude. She has learned that she only needs to give herself more time to think. In view of her adorable soft looks, her silence only amplifies her charm.
"One day, I stopped trying to make myself believe that you and I could have been together like that. My love for you was like a natural force, like a volcano or a tornado, or a wildfire I couldn't contain. It burned down everything in its path and in myself. When you were gone, something in me died. What Sumi and I made out of that situation, that was love—something which could survive and thrive in all circumstances. And though I've never been as much in love with her as I was in love with you, I'm truly happy and incredibly thankful to have her. I've never understood how a guy like me could have attracted such an S-tier girl."
"I have to work very hard, too," she quietly admits. "Every single day. On myself, on living." She has been struggling alone, knowing she is at her best in solitude. If she were a hermit crab, she would be one who is just as desperate for security as it is desperate for space, who needs to see other hermit crabs but shouldn't be kept with them in a vivarium.
"I know," he says, emphatically. "And you're doing a great job at it. You're the best! We've watched all of your movies. You're such a talented actress. You're going to take over the world! And someday, you will find someone who is just as great as you—an S-tier boyfriend, I'm sure."
He doesn't understand her—and she senses that he can't understand her, wouldn't be able to comprehend who she is even if she explained herself. Sumi-chan and he wouldn't lash out, retreat, or kill their loved ones for invading their space. Her personal terrors are alien to people like Sumi-chan and him, who don't know the fear of waking up to the realisation that all love has evaporated, that their shared hopes and dreams will no longer matter, that they will forever be trapped in a broken shell together.
She is glad her disappearance hasn't scarred him—she has taken care to remove herself from his life slowly and gradually, so as not to hurt him too much. She had become less available to him during the day; she had reduced their contact to motions of civility before moving out. She even wrote a few emails and messages before letting their connection die. It pains her that he needs so long to take the hint, that he has tried to see her again when their time together has run out. He can't comprehend that to her, it's more painful to watch him moving on than to withdraw.
"Yes, that's my plan!" she cheerily says, crossing her arms and legs as she leans back into her armchair. The clock on the wall shows that their date has ended. "It was lovely to catch up with you again, but I have to go." She rapidly blinks into the flickering light of the candle and at the red rose on the table, ignores his raised hand, and winks at him for a last time as she gets up and turns her gaze towards the door. "I have a rehearsal tomorrow morning and it has been such a long night. Please send Sumi-chan my love! Goodbye."
Before they met again, there had been a pang of regret whenever she remembered. After their conversation tonight, she no longer regrets anything. Sitting alone in her dressing room after he is gone, removing her makeup and applying her lotions for the night, she wonders whether she will ever be able to leave her shell—and if she will, when she will feel ready to endure pain and loss. She scrutinises her crows' feet and other wrinkles which have deepened in the last year, the first visible traces of the two decades which have passed. Maybe when she is too old to be considered conventionally beautiful, she will be ready for love—for a real relationship in which tiers don't matter.
x.
A/N: This fic was fun to write! I rushed through it within a couple hours, so editing it afterwards was a horror. I'll be hiding from the flying tomatoes and eggs. (But I'm really not a Sumi/Kazuya fan and prefer Chizuru/Kazuya in the canon, I swear. *flee*)
Since Muphrid has already been depicting all the beautiful scenarios in which our canon couple gets their Happily Ever After, I've been pondering on how their fears and mental issues can break them up. Thanks a lot to Muphrid for reading and commenting on the first draft. He is a bit worried that people will think he is either Chizuru or Kazuya and we've broken up. I will just state that this isn't happening. XD