Chapter 1: Realizations
Haruka put the trophy she had won up on the shelf where she had the others - a new one was added to it every second week, and she probably would have to get a second shelf soon. While she looked at the golden trophies that stood lined up like soldiers, she remembered what Takeshi had made her promise in exchange for letting her drive. "Alcoholics Anonymous, my ass." She mumbled to herself, longingly looking at the other shelf she had in the room - the one that held the bottles. Deep inside, Haruka knew that she should stop drinking, she knew that it would kill her if she didn't.but she couldn't. If I stop, I won't be able to forget anymore. She thought to herself, slowly walking over to what she called the relief shelf while she did. And I'd rather die then remember. As if on cue, a deep, male voice spoke up in her mind, sending cold chills down her spine. Come up here, Ruka. I want to talk to you. I want to talk to you while you are very close to me. "No." Haruka groaned out, nearly staggering the last meters that still were between her and the shelf. She grabbed the next best bottle, quickly unscrewed the lid and took a deep gulp directly out of the bottle, not bothering to use a glass. The alcohol drowned the voice, making it shut up, but Haruka knew that it wasn't enough yet. She sat down on her black leather couch, turned on the TV and kept drinking until the bottle was halfway empty and she was more hanging on the couch then sitting. With the slow, insecure moves of a person that was heavily drunk, Haruka placed the bottle on the small desk that stood in front of the desk, then sank back in the cushion of the couch. Moments later, she was fast asleep, snoring slightly while her dreams were kept away by the amount of alcohol that rushed through her blood.
When Haruka awoke again, her head hurt as if somebody was hitting glowing nails into her brain, and her stomach felt as if it was filled with acid. No, not just filled; it felt as if it was close to bursting, spilling the acid all over the insides of her stomach and killing her. Haruka knew that that was very unlikely to happen, but still.she let out a sour burp, and suddenly the blonde jumped up and ran through the room, out of the door and over to the next. She threw it open and fell to her knees in front of the toilet just in time when the contents of her stomach spilled out of her mouth. A part of her brain thanked God for the fact that the toilet lid had been open; if it would have been closed, there would have been hell to clean afterwards. I can't take this no more. Haruka thought to herself while her sweaty face sank against the pleasantly cool toilet seat, her eyes squeezed shut. I can't take it to wake up every day and puke. It has to stop. She coughed one last time, knowing that the puking was over - her stomach was simply too empty now. Slowly, Haruka came to her feet, and staggered over to the washbasin that was mounted to the wall of the bathroom. Her eyes fell on the mirror that hung over it, and she hated what she saw - a pale, sweaty face, the dark rings underneath her eyes standing out sharply, framed by also sweaty blonde hair. "It has to stop." She spoke to her mirror self, her hands gripping the washbasin for support while she did. It can't stop! A hysterical voice screamed in her mind, a voice that didn't sound like the adult Haruka - it sounded like Haruka had when she had been fourteen. If it stops, the memories will come back! He will come back! Don't you know that? "I know!" Haruka screamed out, smashing one fist against the washbasin so hard that the porcelain started to shake. "I know, but I can't take this anymore!" Slowly, the blonde sank to her knees, tears collecting in the corners of her eyes. Her chest rose and fell heavily, and a strangled sob freed itself from her throat. Then, she cried, cried like she hadn't done for a long time. It all came tumbling down on her, like a ton of bricks; the fact that she was an alcoholic, an alcoholic that nobody really liked anyway. At this moment, kneeling on the tiled floor of her bathroom, Haruka felt as lonely as she never had before, not even during the worst times of her life. She kept crying, and while her tears fell down on the white tiles, she made an important decision, maybe the most important one ever since she had decided to move out of her parents'. She would go to the next AA meeting, and not just because Takeshi had made her promise that she would. She would go because she needed help.
Later that day - when her stomach had calmed down enough to allow her eating a small breakfast and drink a cup of coffee - Haruka sat in front of her phone, looking at it as if it would grow teeth and bite her hand when she decided to take off the receiver. Finally, after almost ten minutes of staring at the phone, Haruka slowly reached out and picked the receiver up. It didn't bite her, like she somehow had expected - if you woke up with a hangover as bad as hers, everything was possible - and the blonde started to dial the number of Takeshi. She knew that her chief mechanic probably wasn't too fond of hearing to her, not after how she had treated him the day before. After three rings, the phone on the other side of the line was answered. "Hello?" the voice that spoke was female, and Haruka quickly racked her brain for the name of Takeshi's wife. "Hi, Nami." She spoke as soon as it had come to her. "It's Haruka.is Takeshi home?" "Yes, wait a second. I'll get him." Nami's voice was cold, and Haruka closed her eyes, an unpleasant thought dawning up in her brain. Yet another one to add to the "People who can't stand the walking ass Haruka" list. "Thanks." She softly spoke, while Nami mumbled something inaudible in reply. The phone stayed silent for a few minutes then; Haruka was close to hanging up again when Takeshi's voice came through the receiver, causing her to flinch. That was another nice side effect of hangovers; when they were really bad, you even were scared of your own shadow at times. "Haruka, what do you want?" the mechanic asked, his voice not all too friendly. "It won't take long." Haruka replied, her voice still sounding awfully defeated. "I just.I just need a phone number from you." She didn't know why she thought that Takeshi maybe had the number she wanted, but for some reason, she was sure about it. "Oh? And which number would that be?" Takeshi replied, impatience in his voice. Haruka took a deep breath before she answered, and when he heard her words, Takeshi could feel how his heart started to beat faster. "I need the phone number of the AA, Takeshi."