Elsewhere, earlier:
Shigeru and Sakurako heaved Doumyouji onto his bed with exhausted sighs.
"Why does he have to be so heavy?" Sakurako complained,, as Shigeru stood up and cracked her aching back. Doumyouji was unresponsive, and had been ever since they'd dragged his limp body from the curb outside the club. He'd yet to make a sound; even his breathing was almost nonexistent. All he'd done was stare into space, with a dismal expression on his face.
"Hey you!" Sakurako gave Tsukasa's shoulder a sharp shove, "Don't you know yelling at Tsukushi isn't the way to get her back? How stupid can you possibly be?"
Tsukasa's only reply was to lean forward and put his head between his knees.
Shigeru sighed; the boy truly looked so pathetic. Maybe he had suffered enough. Taking pity on him, she sat down next to Tsukasa and put her hand on his shoulder.
"It's ok," she began, "We know you're just an idiot and can't help yourself. But, everything will be fine. You'll see. Just sleep now, and tomorrow we'll see what we can do about fixing things up between you and Tsukushi!" With these words, Shigeru patted Doumyouji's back comfortingly, and slowly got to her feet. Sakurako looked like she wanted to further remonstrate with Doumyouji, but Shigeru firmly dragged her from the room and turned off the light, leaving Tsukasa alone in the dark.
Even as the two girls left, Doumyouji could not say a word; not even to thank them for their assistance in hauling him home. He sat, still as carven stone, still slumped over his long legs for some time, 'till at last he keeled over onto his side and buried his face in his hands.
Did they really think he didn't know what a fool he'd been? He knew as well as anyone that he'd never been much one to Think before he acted. Self- restraint had Never been his thing at all. Nor was self-analysis, for that matter. At this thought, the first sound to escape his lips in hours emerged: a brief and bitter laugh. Now was as good a time as any to descend that path, he supposed. If he couldn't think about his actions beforehand, at least maybe he could now try to learn from their aftermaths.
In some ways, Tsukasa just wished he could blame everything on Tsukushi. It was so much easier to act as if he could do no wrong, and that it was her behavior that had led to this point. If Tsukushi had just given him what he wanted so much, he wouldn't have doubted her-would not have allowed Umi to tempt him with her evil plot. . . . But No. . . . Tsukasa let out a long sigh. Tsukushi was not at fault. Before he'd fallen for her, he'd never truly been in control of himself. Always, he'd let his passions run away with him. The least provocation, however unmeant it may have been, always sent him into a towering rage. His violent spells had almost led to his victims' deaths on more than one occasion. Not even his friends had ever been able to calm him, They'd never understood his fury, or the essential loneliness and feelings of utter isolation that inspired them. It was only Tsukushi and her refusal to treat him any different than any other asshole that had changed him, She made him feel accepted for who he was - and he came to love her for it. It was only for Her that he'd first learned restraint. And that wasn't a conscious thing. Not really; he still hadn't learned to Think before he acted. Instead, he merely found that he had these violent, uncontrollable impulses less often. But he still never really stopped before he lashed out, when he lost control. . . . And this was the result. . . After that episode in the club, Tsukushi might never speak to him again. . .
Tsukasa also wished he could blame Akira or Soujiro. It was true that his friendship with those two had changed since he got involved with Tsukushi, but he could never quite grasp just how. He understood their priorities as poorly as ever, but before where their taunts about his virginity had only made him shrug and turn away, "Why should I want to have sex with someone who only wants me for my name and money?" now they seemed to be mocking his relationship with Tsukushi. "What kind of a couple doesn't sleep together? What the hell is wrong with you two? Are you sure you're in love?" Even just thinking about it made him flush with embarrassment and anger. Still, he knew they didn't mean it like that. . . But they could at least Try to understand why Tsukasa and Tsukushi might not be so intimate. And, it's true, perhaps their words had fueled his frustration at Tsukushi's reluctance to go further - so unlike all the other women who surrounded him,
Tsukasa forced himself to take another breath and relax. No! he would not blame his friends for being who they were. . . . Though if he caught them making a move on Tsukushi again. . . This train of though made him clench up again. With an effort, he slowly unknotted his fisted hands. . . . though his eyes remained clamped shut. Breathe damn it!
Inevitably, Doumyouji's train of thought led to the last of his friends: Rui. His only true competitor for Tsukushi's heart. Jealous as Tsukasa had been of the other men who'd pursued Tsukushi, Rui was the only conceivable one that could take her away from him. Tsukasa thought he understood what motivated his friend, but that didn't make him like Rui more. It was so hard to forgive him for loving Tsukushi too-And for taking his place at Tsukushi's side. Damnit! It should be him, Tsukasa, there to comfort Tsukushi, not Rui! It didn't help that Tsukushi had once been in love with Rui, and that, even now, she was so close to him. Tsukasa cursed his friend for being where he could not right now. Nevertheless, deep in his heart, he was glad that Tsukushi had someone to turn to when, as in this instance-as in many before-Tsukasa had stupidly hurt her. Doumyouji forced himself to stop thinking about Rui; he was afraid to dwell on the subject long , lest he come to hate his friend again.
Tsukasa rolled over angrily onto his back, and spread out his arms and legs flat against the bed, as if by spanning its expanse with his body he could become one with its soft depths. He stared up at the high ceiling, faintly seen through the darkness that encompassed him.
What use was all this thought? Useless, All Useless! The only thing that mattered was Tsukushi. Well, then, his actions had gotten him into this mess; only his actions would get him out of it again. If, that was, anything could.
Action! That was what was required. Abruptly, Tsukasa sat bolt upright. He'd been a fool! Wasting time with his thoughts, doubting Tsukushi, doubting himself, doubting his friends. It was all pointless! He needed to get up and do something before these crawling words, like ants, devoured his brain.
Tsukasa swung his long legs off the bed, stood up and paced the room like a caged animal, before freezing in front of the door. "Tsukushi," he whispered in longing, "I've been such an idiot. . . ." A single tear crept down his face. He made no move to wipe it off, as he completed his thought, "But I'll make it up to you, I swear. Just give me another chance. . . ." With these words, he flung open his door, and looking neither to the right nor left, strode briskly through the long corridors of his mansion, 'till at last he'd escaped its oppressive confines.
It was five AM; dawn was just beginning to break across the Tokyo skyline. The whole sky was lit up with a rosy glow as the sun's rays struggled to break through the shredded remnants of last night's rain clouds. "Even the sun is on my side," Tsukasa reassured himself as he walked down the street. It was a long walk to Tsukushi's apartment, but in his chaotic state of mind, he had not even thought of taking a car.
The long walk through the empty streets seemed to clear his head somewhat. Firmly erasing his doubts from his mind, Tsukasa affirmed to himself, "I believe in Tsukushi. She loves me. I love her and no one else. Nothing anyone says will change that. Nothing!" Vehemently he quashed all the doubts that assailed him last night as he'd watched Tsukushi. He refused to think about what it was his friends had been doing. All that mattered was Tsukushi; what he would say to her, how she would react. Her pleading face filled his mind. Images of her tears, her anger, her rare smiles that shone like the sun. He would do anything for her; if only she would teach him how.
At last Doumyouji arrived outside Tsukushi's apartment building. Determinedly, he rang the bell. Not waiting for an answer, he shouted up in a voice fit to wake the dead, "Makino, I need to talk to you! Wake up!" For several minutes, there was no response. Even the neighbors, jolted out of sleep by the yelling in the street below, had learned over time to recognize Doumyouji's angry voice from previous encounters, and knew to bury their heads under their pillows, rather than risk his wrath at interrupting his communication. After a while, Tsukasa rang the bell again, and had just opened his mouth to shout another challenge at the sleepers above, when the window to Tsukushi's apartment cracked open, and a sleepy Susumu poked his head out.
"What do you want, Doumyouji, sir?" Susumu asked grumpily, upset at being awoken from his sound slumber, "My sister's not home. She didn't come back last night." Unaware of the rift between Tsukushi and Tsukasa, as Tsukushi had nit seen fit to inform her brother, he continued, "Weren't you with her?"
Doumyouji stared up at he boy in shock. He had not even considered the fact that Tsukushi might not have come home. This meant that she must have gone home with one of the F3! "I will not get upset. I must remain calm," he mentally kicked himself, but could not open his mouth to answer Susumu.
At last, seeing that Tsukasa was not likely to reply anytime soon, Susumu collapsed back into the deep sleep from which he had really, only partly arisen.
Some minutes later, Tsukasa came back to himself with a start. Well! He could go around to his friends' houses seeking the wayward girl, but somehow he suspected that course of action might just make her more angry when at last he did find her. Perhaps he would just wait here then. She had to come home eventually. . . . And when she did, he'd be waiting.
With this thought, Doumyouji leaned back against the cold wall of the building. Its brisk dampness from last night's rain immediately seemed to permeate every corner of his being as he crossed his arms, rested his chin on his chest, and settled in to wait-forever if need be.
To be continued..
Shigeru and Sakurako heaved Doumyouji onto his bed with exhausted sighs.
"Why does he have to be so heavy?" Sakurako complained,, as Shigeru stood up and cracked her aching back. Doumyouji was unresponsive, and had been ever since they'd dragged his limp body from the curb outside the club. He'd yet to make a sound; even his breathing was almost nonexistent. All he'd done was stare into space, with a dismal expression on his face.
"Hey you!" Sakurako gave Tsukasa's shoulder a sharp shove, "Don't you know yelling at Tsukushi isn't the way to get her back? How stupid can you possibly be?"
Tsukasa's only reply was to lean forward and put his head between his knees.
Shigeru sighed; the boy truly looked so pathetic. Maybe he had suffered enough. Taking pity on him, she sat down next to Tsukasa and put her hand on his shoulder.
"It's ok," she began, "We know you're just an idiot and can't help yourself. But, everything will be fine. You'll see. Just sleep now, and tomorrow we'll see what we can do about fixing things up between you and Tsukushi!" With these words, Shigeru patted Doumyouji's back comfortingly, and slowly got to her feet. Sakurako looked like she wanted to further remonstrate with Doumyouji, but Shigeru firmly dragged her from the room and turned off the light, leaving Tsukasa alone in the dark.
Even as the two girls left, Doumyouji could not say a word; not even to thank them for their assistance in hauling him home. He sat, still as carven stone, still slumped over his long legs for some time, 'till at last he keeled over onto his side and buried his face in his hands.
Did they really think he didn't know what a fool he'd been? He knew as well as anyone that he'd never been much one to Think before he acted. Self- restraint had Never been his thing at all. Nor was self-analysis, for that matter. At this thought, the first sound to escape his lips in hours emerged: a brief and bitter laugh. Now was as good a time as any to descend that path, he supposed. If he couldn't think about his actions beforehand, at least maybe he could now try to learn from their aftermaths.
In some ways, Tsukasa just wished he could blame everything on Tsukushi. It was so much easier to act as if he could do no wrong, and that it was her behavior that had led to this point. If Tsukushi had just given him what he wanted so much, he wouldn't have doubted her-would not have allowed Umi to tempt him with her evil plot. . . . But No. . . . Tsukasa let out a long sigh. Tsukushi was not at fault. Before he'd fallen for her, he'd never truly been in control of himself. Always, he'd let his passions run away with him. The least provocation, however unmeant it may have been, always sent him into a towering rage. His violent spells had almost led to his victims' deaths on more than one occasion. Not even his friends had ever been able to calm him, They'd never understood his fury, or the essential loneliness and feelings of utter isolation that inspired them. It was only Tsukushi and her refusal to treat him any different than any other asshole that had changed him, She made him feel accepted for who he was - and he came to love her for it. It was only for Her that he'd first learned restraint. And that wasn't a conscious thing. Not really; he still hadn't learned to Think before he acted. Instead, he merely found that he had these violent, uncontrollable impulses less often. But he still never really stopped before he lashed out, when he lost control. . . . And this was the result. . . After that episode in the club, Tsukushi might never speak to him again. . .
Tsukasa also wished he could blame Akira or Soujiro. It was true that his friendship with those two had changed since he got involved with Tsukushi, but he could never quite grasp just how. He understood their priorities as poorly as ever, but before where their taunts about his virginity had only made him shrug and turn away, "Why should I want to have sex with someone who only wants me for my name and money?" now they seemed to be mocking his relationship with Tsukushi. "What kind of a couple doesn't sleep together? What the hell is wrong with you two? Are you sure you're in love?" Even just thinking about it made him flush with embarrassment and anger. Still, he knew they didn't mean it like that. . . But they could at least Try to understand why Tsukasa and Tsukushi might not be so intimate. And, it's true, perhaps their words had fueled his frustration at Tsukushi's reluctance to go further - so unlike all the other women who surrounded him,
Tsukasa forced himself to take another breath and relax. No! he would not blame his friends for being who they were. . . . Though if he caught them making a move on Tsukushi again. . . This train of though made him clench up again. With an effort, he slowly unknotted his fisted hands. . . . though his eyes remained clamped shut. Breathe damn it!
Inevitably, Doumyouji's train of thought led to the last of his friends: Rui. His only true competitor for Tsukushi's heart. Jealous as Tsukasa had been of the other men who'd pursued Tsukushi, Rui was the only conceivable one that could take her away from him. Tsukasa thought he understood what motivated his friend, but that didn't make him like Rui more. It was so hard to forgive him for loving Tsukushi too-And for taking his place at Tsukushi's side. Damnit! It should be him, Tsukasa, there to comfort Tsukushi, not Rui! It didn't help that Tsukushi had once been in love with Rui, and that, even now, she was so close to him. Tsukasa cursed his friend for being where he could not right now. Nevertheless, deep in his heart, he was glad that Tsukushi had someone to turn to when, as in this instance-as in many before-Tsukasa had stupidly hurt her. Doumyouji forced himself to stop thinking about Rui; he was afraid to dwell on the subject long , lest he come to hate his friend again.
Tsukasa rolled over angrily onto his back, and spread out his arms and legs flat against the bed, as if by spanning its expanse with his body he could become one with its soft depths. He stared up at the high ceiling, faintly seen through the darkness that encompassed him.
What use was all this thought? Useless, All Useless! The only thing that mattered was Tsukushi. Well, then, his actions had gotten him into this mess; only his actions would get him out of it again. If, that was, anything could.
Action! That was what was required. Abruptly, Tsukasa sat bolt upright. He'd been a fool! Wasting time with his thoughts, doubting Tsukushi, doubting himself, doubting his friends. It was all pointless! He needed to get up and do something before these crawling words, like ants, devoured his brain.
Tsukasa swung his long legs off the bed, stood up and paced the room like a caged animal, before freezing in front of the door. "Tsukushi," he whispered in longing, "I've been such an idiot. . . ." A single tear crept down his face. He made no move to wipe it off, as he completed his thought, "But I'll make it up to you, I swear. Just give me another chance. . . ." With these words, he flung open his door, and looking neither to the right nor left, strode briskly through the long corridors of his mansion, 'till at last he'd escaped its oppressive confines.
It was five AM; dawn was just beginning to break across the Tokyo skyline. The whole sky was lit up with a rosy glow as the sun's rays struggled to break through the shredded remnants of last night's rain clouds. "Even the sun is on my side," Tsukasa reassured himself as he walked down the street. It was a long walk to Tsukushi's apartment, but in his chaotic state of mind, he had not even thought of taking a car.
The long walk through the empty streets seemed to clear his head somewhat. Firmly erasing his doubts from his mind, Tsukasa affirmed to himself, "I believe in Tsukushi. She loves me. I love her and no one else. Nothing anyone says will change that. Nothing!" Vehemently he quashed all the doubts that assailed him last night as he'd watched Tsukushi. He refused to think about what it was his friends had been doing. All that mattered was Tsukushi; what he would say to her, how she would react. Her pleading face filled his mind. Images of her tears, her anger, her rare smiles that shone like the sun. He would do anything for her; if only she would teach him how.
At last Doumyouji arrived outside Tsukushi's apartment building. Determinedly, he rang the bell. Not waiting for an answer, he shouted up in a voice fit to wake the dead, "Makino, I need to talk to you! Wake up!" For several minutes, there was no response. Even the neighbors, jolted out of sleep by the yelling in the street below, had learned over time to recognize Doumyouji's angry voice from previous encounters, and knew to bury their heads under their pillows, rather than risk his wrath at interrupting his communication. After a while, Tsukasa rang the bell again, and had just opened his mouth to shout another challenge at the sleepers above, when the window to Tsukushi's apartment cracked open, and a sleepy Susumu poked his head out.
"What do you want, Doumyouji, sir?" Susumu asked grumpily, upset at being awoken from his sound slumber, "My sister's not home. She didn't come back last night." Unaware of the rift between Tsukushi and Tsukasa, as Tsukushi had nit seen fit to inform her brother, he continued, "Weren't you with her?"
Doumyouji stared up at he boy in shock. He had not even considered the fact that Tsukushi might not have come home. This meant that she must have gone home with one of the F3! "I will not get upset. I must remain calm," he mentally kicked himself, but could not open his mouth to answer Susumu.
At last, seeing that Tsukasa was not likely to reply anytime soon, Susumu collapsed back into the deep sleep from which he had really, only partly arisen.
Some minutes later, Tsukasa came back to himself with a start. Well! He could go around to his friends' houses seeking the wayward girl, but somehow he suspected that course of action might just make her more angry when at last he did find her. Perhaps he would just wait here then. She had to come home eventually. . . . And when she did, he'd be waiting.
With this thought, Doumyouji leaned back against the cold wall of the building. Its brisk dampness from last night's rain immediately seemed to permeate every corner of his being as he crossed his arms, rested his chin on his chest, and settled in to wait-forever if need be.
To be continued..