Pieces of Our Lives: A Honey and Clover story

By Cal-Reflector

Author's notes and Disclaimer: Currently listening to the newly released Hachikuro OST Since I believe that caffeine is bad for one's health in general, I'm using music as a stimulant instead to keep myself from mispelling things at this unlawfully-late hour... 1 AM. Track #23 comes on ... now I'm seeing visions of Morita-sama, sleep-deprived as I am and holding ten-kilogram bags of croquettes in each hand. Anyways...

I do not own Honey and Clover. If I did, I would... well, aside from pounding some sense into Shuuji so that he'd stop being so selfless for once and just pursue Rika with reckless abandon, I'd change very little; more Morita is always a good thing, and more Takemoto, and more Hagu and Ayu and... you get the idea.

The hands on my watch indicate that it is 5:20 in the afternoon. The sun has set and it is already dark outside as street lights and store signs began to flicker on. I place my glasses on the desk and rub my eyes, wearied by another long day at work after just two-and-a-half hours of sleep the previous night. The firm's last project with an imminent deadline is finally finished however, so for the first time in nearly a month the staff will be able to enjoy a free weekend; free to eat something other than convenience store selections for dinner and sleep in the comfort of their own beds.

Putting my glasses back on, I see a co-worker, Shinpei, standing next to me. "Man, Mayama, you look like you're about to drop dead."

I lean back in my leather swivel chair, grunting as I stretch my arms out behind my head. "That would not be very far from the truth."

"I figured that after all those inhuman hours you put in, you'd probably want to hit the sack and not wake up till Sunday afternoon. But if you can keep those eyelids open for just a couple more hours, several of us are going to hit the bars, then maybe karaoke afterwards… how about it?" The lanky interior designer, himself sporting a few rings under his eyes, grins at me wryly as he leans closer and his tone becomes low and confidential. "…The ladies would be thrilled to have you along, you know."

I chuckle and shake my head. "Thanks… but as you can see, I'm in no shape to go out tonight and wouldn't be much good to you, so I'll have to pass."

"Yeah, that's a shame huh…" Shinpei sighs dramatically as he straightens up and turns around. "Oh well, guess I'll go break the bad news to the girls. You, my friend, go home and get some rest."

I watch as Shinpei rejoins his party and leaves the office in a group, then begin gathering things into my suitcase as I prepare to go home for the first time in nearly three days.

The drive back is a routine affair: the usual congestion of the evening rush-hour, the usual radio stations repeating the same news as yesterday, the usual sights along the usual roads… At the next intersection, I make a turn that takes me onto a familiar avenue, removed from the noise and busy traffic on the main street which heads towards the old student apartment where I still live. I park against the sidewalk and pull up the collar of my overcoat as I step out onto the road, my breath clearly visible in the air.

Lowering myself onto a bench, I lift my eyes towards the fourth floor of an apartment high-rise across the street; the light in her window is out tonight. I dig my hands into my jacket pockets for my cigarettes and lighter. Dragging deeply, I fill my lungs with the stinging but smoothing vapors before I exhale the fumes and watch them dissipate into thin air.

What is it that keeps me coming back here, again and again, like a man possessed?

Why can't I give her up, after trying and failing to make her mine so many times?

Why can't she be mine? Why won't she be mine?

These are the usual thoughts that run through my mind whenever I come here, to this place, where I sit, smoke, and gaze up into the window of her home and workplace.

It has been nearly three years since I first met her, Harada Rika. At the beginning of my last year in college, I came to Harada Design Firm as a part-timer with Hanamoto sensei's recommendation. She was sensei's old friend, and almost seven years my senior. She had projects lined up but not enough help, I needed job experience for my resume; It seemed like a perfect opportunity for all three of us.

As time went by I came to know a side of her that shocked me. I saw how brutal the scars on her body were from that accident which took her husband's life and left her in never ending pain. I saw how she tossed and turned in bed, tortured, singed by the flames from the nightmares. I saw how she cried during those nightmares, with heartrending agony, time after time, her dead husband's name. I never saw her shed a tear, no matter how broken she was, but I saw that underneath her smiles—so heartbreakingly beautiful that I ached inside—she hid her scarred and darkened soul where the tears flowed unrestricted, tears that she would never let me know existed.

I never imagined that I could fall so completely, so helplessly, so utterly for someone.

Dropping the stub to the ground and crushing it with my feet, I light another cigarette and put it between my lips. The temperature drops further, and the chill begins to seep through the layers I am wearing; the light in her apartment window remains dark.

Countless times have I tried to reach her, to have her open herself to me so that I might stop the pain inside; countless times have I exhorted her to yield unto me, to dismantle her barriers so that I might enter and fill that painful void. But no matter how close we became, no matter how much intimacy and trust I gained, in the end I could never get her to surrender completely, and then she would pull away from me, withdraw from me, and her heart would go once more to that man who was no more.

"… You're incredible, you know, Harada-san?" I let the hardly touched cigarette fall from my lips and grind it slowly into the pavement with the heel of my right foot. "Even after so many years, she still only lets you into her heart. Even though you've died and gone away, just the memory of you leaves no room for me…"

I stand up and start walking towards the car, my mind filled with the face of the man whom I know only from pictures and the description from others; the man called Harada, whose name Rika never brings up in front of me but can never forget; whose mere presence keeps her from freedom, from happiness and moving on… with me.

"I will not lose… I will not be beaten by her memories of you."

In a full heart there is room for everything,
And in an empty heart there is room for nothing
--Antonio Porchia

Chapter 3-1: Mayama's Resolve

-----

Yamada Ayumi sat in front of a potter's wheel, her deft hands gently but firmly forming the mound of clay until it gradually began to take shape. She was by herself this afternoon, and the empty studio was quiet but for the soothing whirr from the spinning wheel and distant sounds of activity elsewhere on campus.

Shuuji had been watching her silently from the doorway, unwilling to distract the girl in any way from her work. He had always been captivated by the degree of concentration Yamada possessed whenever she took her seat in front of the potter's wheel, and to admire her creative process was a privileged experience that never failed to bring him a tremendous amount of pleasure.

Presently the whir of the potter's wheel came to a stop, and he saw Yamada sit back and relax her shoulders. With a length of string she sliced the newly formed cup at the base and held it up for closer examination. Even from a distance the young professor saw that it was another perfectly crafted piece and, unable to contain his feelings of appreciation any further, he began to applaud. "Well done, Yamada-kun."

The girl smiled at the professor and headed towards the sink to wash her hands. "Thank you, sensei, but it's nothing special really."

"Only you can make it look so easy, the way you're able to churn out masterpiece after masterpiece with hardly any errors to speak of." Shuuji walked up next to the sink and held out a towel to her. "At this rate, even one full exhibition won't be enough to showcase all of your works."

Yamada grinned widely and took the towel from Shuuji's hands. "That's why I asked sensei to come today, to be a second opinion and help me choose which pieces I ought to use."

The young professor followed Yamada as she went back to retrieve the cup she just made and place it on a shelf to dry. "Well, I certainly have no problems with that… as long as you save me one of your works before they're all snatched up by the highest bidders."

Ayu laughed in response as she unfastened her apron. "Don't worry. I'm pretty sure that there will be plenty of leftovers for sensei to choose from." A look of concern came over the young woman's face as she opened a closet. "I hope that I'll be able to interest some customers in at least a few items, this being my professional debut and all…"

Shuuji laid his hand on Ayu's shoulder. "With such emphatic recommendations from your professors and the whole department as your fan club, I think you hardly need to worry. You've already made quite a reputation for yourself, and as such Saturday's exhibit will surely be a success."

A reassured smile spread across the young woman's face as she nodded in response. As the two walked down a hallway towards the room where her finished works were stored, a thought occurred to Ayu and she turned towards Shuuji, who was walking besides her. "Say, sensei, lately it feels as if you've become a lot more upbeat. You feel… younger even. Has something good happened?"

Shuuji was caught off guard by the sudden inquiry. "Hmm? No, everything's pretty much been the same."

"Oh…? Hagu-chan told me that you've been seeing a lot more of your lady friend from college lately." A crafty grin appeared on Yamada's face as she leaned closer to observe the professor's reaction. "That wouldn't have anything to do with sensei's boost in spirit of late, would it?"

To her great amusement, Ayu saw Shuuji's face flush and then fumble his reply. "That… well… it's… not what you think." This of course only fortified the young woman's suspicion that it was what she thought, and she chuckled at the unusual sight of the professor, usually so mature and composed in manner, growing self-conscious like a young man who just had his secret admiration found out.

-----

Many blocks away, inside the apartment suite that was the Harada residence, Rika had just turned up the heater in the room. Forecasts that morning had predicted snow in the late afternoon and temperatures in the low single digits approaching zero. Wrapped in a thick knit sweater, Rika walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She took out a plastic container of potato and beef stew, leftovers from last night's meal at the Hanamoto's, where she had been invited to eat with Shuuji and Hagu. Taking a bowl down from a cupboard, she spooned the contents from the container into the dish and covered it in seram wrap. A smile appeared on her face when she remembered how "Shuu-chan" was constantly refilling their bowls and urging Hagu and her to eat more. "I'm going to gain weight if he keeps on doing this…"

The doorbell rang as the food heated in the microwave. Not expecting any guests or solicitors at this hour, Rika wondered who the visitor could be as she leaned forward to look through the eyehole installed in the front entrance.

Her eyes widened when she saw who was on the other side. The tall, bespectacled young man had heard her footsteps inside, and knew that she was home. "Rika-san… it's me, Mayama Takumi."

Minutes later, Rika was sitting in the passenger side of Mayama's car as the two drove through the light midday traffic. The young man's sudden visit had surprised her completely, and when he insisted that he needed her to come with him on a day trip, she had been unable to refuse, and only had time to pull on some warmer clothing. No further words were exchanged after they got into the car, as Takumi focused on the road with an unsettlingly somber expression. But now, as they passed onto the expressway leading out of the central part of the city, the young man spoke up. "…I apologize for asking you to come out so suddenly, Rika-san."

Rika merely shook her head slowly, and continued to look out the window. Mayama glanced over at the elder woman, a tender look filled with mixed emotions in his eyes. He turned his attention back to the road. "Have you eaten yet? We could stop by someplace first for lunch if you'd like."

In her mind, Rika saw Shuuji's stew that she had left out on the kitchen table. With her eyes still trained absently outwards, she replied in a quiet tone. "… It's alright, I'm not hungry."

-----

"Somebody has certainly kept busy this past month." Shuuji remarked, as he looked at the vast quantity of dishes, bowls, vases, cups, and other articles of pottery that lined the tall shelves all around him in the dimly lit storage room, most of which were created by the same artist, who at the moment was standing on a step ladder and rummaging through the high upper shelves.

Yamada picked up a traditionally fashioned bowl and blew a thin layer of dust off. "Well… this is my first time preparing for a personal exhibition, so I guess I got a little excited and went a bit overboard."

"… You've made enough to stock two exhibits. I wouldn't call that 'a bit overboard.'"

Ayu laughed sheepishly in response, and for the next ten minutes she picked out works which she felt promising and passed them to Shuuji, who then gave his assessment. After they had decided on close to two dozen pieces, Ayu decided to take a breather and took a seat on a chair at the foot of the ladder, wiping away the perspiration that appeared on her forehead from climbing up and down and handling several heavier articles. When no conversational topic immediately presented itself, she decided to pick up the subject they had left off in the hallway. "Really though, sensei, you should have seen Hagu when she was talking about Rika-san. From how her face glowed, she looked as if she found a new best friend."

Shuuji chuckled quietly as he sat down on a foldout chair besides the young woman. "Is that so? That's good to hear, but…" His voice trailed off a little. "... between Rika and me… it's not what you think, probably never will be."

Ayu turned to face towards Shuuji. Over the years she had learned enough to know what had happened in the past; how Rika, Harada, and Shuuji had been the closest of friends, and the terrible accident which had taken Harada away from the two. In a quiet, respectful tone, she spoke to the man sitting next to her. "Is it because of Harada-san?"

Shuuji's face took on a stressful expression at the mention of his old friend's name, and reached his hand into the chest pocket on his jacket before realizing that he no longer carried cigarettes with him. Sighing audibly, he leaned forward until his elbows were propped against his knees. "Yes… he's one of the reasons." Taking Yamada's silence as a cue, Shuuji continued. "After the accident… Rika lost the will to live. She was in so much pain, physically and emotionally, that she could not eat, but slowly withered away in the hospital bed. I confronted her: I told her that she could not die, that she could not go seek Harada in death… because she would never find him again even if she did. I told her that she had to keep living."

Shuuji shoved his hands in his pant pockets and leaned his head back against the wall, staring absently into the exposed ceiling beams. "From that point on, she slowly recovered her health: She ate the food and medicine with all her effort, no matter how many times she threw up, all in order to live, but then…"

Ayu saw Shuuji shut his eyes, his features turned hard by the recollections. "I'm so sorry, sensei. You don't have to say anymore…"

"It's fine… it's alright." Shuuji lowered the hand he held up to stop his worried student. "After Rika was discharged from the hospital, I moved in with her. I helped her with the studio's work after I came home and took care of her. I watched as she drove herself ruthlessly to finish the projects Harada left behind; it became her sole purpose in life, the only thing that kept her going." Shuuji took a deep breath and exhaled audibly. "Before long, Rika began to distance herself from me."

Ayu could do nothing but listen quietly as Shuuji's expression grew heavier. "Whenever Rika and I were together… we would always remember when it was the three of us. The absence of Harada was simply too great, the memory of him too painful for us to handle. I could not stand it, to see her in such sorrow even when I was…"

He clenched his teeth together tightly, and after a moment, released the tension. "I'm weak; I knew that I could never hope to replace what Harada had meant to her… So I left. I could no longer stay with her when I realized that my presence did not give her comfort, but only a painful reminder of someone she no longer had… I ran away." The young professor shook his head and chuckled bitterly. "Even now, I'm just a coward who could never fill Harada's shoes…"

"That's not true!"

Shuuji looked up in surprise to see that Yamada had rose from her seat, and now stood erect facing him with her fists clenched. When she saw how she had frightened the professor, Ayu quickly loosened her stance apologetically. "I, I meant to say… that this is all wrong. Hanamoto sensei is… not weak. You only left to protect Rika-san... but isn't this all wrong to begin with? If you loved someone, like Rika-san loved Harada-san, then his memory should not oppress or burden her, but give her strength, encouragement…"

Standing before her senior, Yamada was visibly nervous as he gripped and released her hands, but Shuuji saw that she was determined to finish what she set out to say. "Rika-san… you don't have to try to make her forget about the past, because no one can replace the loss of a loved one. Sensei isn't Harada-san, but you have been by her side through all these years… you shared the same roof with her, laughed and cried with her, grieved together with her, and gave her the will to live when she had lost it…" Shuuji saw Yamada's earnest eyes meet his own. "… You're all that Rika-san has left."

"That's why I think sensei should not feel so bad about himself… I believe that Harada-san would not have wanted this; to see himself become the reason that drives you two apart. And I think… he may have even wanted you two to be together."

In the quiet room, Yamada waited tensely for Shuuji's response. It was only when the hint a smile began to form on the young professor's face that Yamada relaxed… and realize at the same time how her speech could be construed to be motivated by naked, blatant self-interest. "I… I'm not saying this because of that idiot Mayama or anything! I just… well… if sensei still cares for Rika-san then… you shouldn't give up."

Ayu watched Shuuji rise slowly from his seat. Slowly, he placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and smiled warmly. "Thanks, Yamada."

The hesitancy about her actions dispelled, Ayu smiled broadly in return. "You're welcome."

The two then returned to their work, searching for and examining potential pieces to be displayed in the coming exhibition. At one point, Ayu hefted a large jade-colored platter from its shelf and handed it to Shuuji, but because of her awkward position and the weight of the dishe, she mishandled the piece, which fell through the young professor's hands and onto the floor, where it shattered into pieces.

Shuuji immediately bent down to clean up the mess. "Darn it! I'm so sorry about that..."

"No, no, it was my fault. It's alright though; I think I made several of those. Just need to find them, they ought to be around here somewhere."

Shuuji was relieved to hear that Yamada had made several copies of the same piece. With one knee kneeling on the ground, Shuuji carefully picked through the fragments of the platter and placed them into an empty dust bucket nearby. He paused when he picked up two particularly large pieces and held them up, studying the variable shades of green on the surface and the earthen-color of clay along the edges. Without saying a word, he slowly took the pieces and arranged them together along the jagged line where they broke off from each other; it was a perfect fit.

Moments later, Yamada caught the quiet words which the professor uttered with a sad, contemplative smile on his face. "We're just like these fragments... aren't we, Rika?"

-----

Many miles away, on a giant Ferris wheel that towered above the surrounding acres of expansive parklands, Rika and Mayama were seated across from each other. In the distance, the fading rays of the setting sun painted the sky with deep shades of orange, violet, and red, creating a rich backdrop to the shadowy silhouettes of the Tokyo cityscape.

Oblivious to the surrounding scenery, the bespectacled young man gazed at the woman who sat before him, the hues of the evening sky reflected upon her pale complexion and the light beige scarf she wore around her neck; she had not looked at him squarely in the face the entire day. Slowly, he reached into a pocket inside his jacket and pulled out a small velvet box, which he opened and held out to her. "Rika-san…"

Inside the padded container was a ring, a single diamond encrusted on a plain platinum band.

"… I would like to ask you, once more, to spend the rest of your life with me."

Rika turned towards the young man but kept her eyes averted from his gaze. She eyed the exquisite ring for what seemed like a very long time, her face failing to betray any emotions she may have been feeling inside. Then she reached out her hands, and taking the young man's extended hand in her own, she slowly closed his fingers around the lid of the box and returned it to him. "I'm sorry…"

Mayama was silent, and stared at the unaccepted ring that sat in the palm of his hands. His expression was one of disappointment, hurt, and frustration. "… Why? Why can't you love me? Why can't you accept me? Why… can't you be mine?"

"Mayama-kun…"

The bespectacled young man clenched his fists tightly as he continued, heedless of Rika's voice. "I… just don't understand. Am I not strong enough? Am I not good enough? I know I am, I know I can replace him…" Suddenly, his arms shot out to grab Rika by the shoulders, and his volume rose dramatically as his voice turned hoarse with emotion. "But why, why can't you forget him? Why won't you let him go? Don't you understand? Harada-san is DEAD! He's no longer here! You can't be with him anymore!"

Mayama breathing became ragged. He saw that Rika's eyes had turned wide and empty, her expression blank; shocked. He lowered his forehead against her shoulder, and spoke quietly in a tone filled with agony. "Why can't you understand…? Who is more important… the living or the dead? I am strong now, strong enough for the both of us. I became strong so you wouldn't need him anymore..." He released his grip on Rika's shoulders and slumped back into his seat, covering his face with his hands. "God Rika… if only you would look only at me and no longer look at him, I could make you forget him. I could make you forget the pain and give you happiness…"

The remainder of the ride passed in silence. As the dying rays of the sun vanished beneath the horizon and nightfall arrived, the first flakes of winter snow began to fall.

-----

Rika closed the door to the apartment behind her. It was already late in the evening and the house was cold, dark, and silent. She did not bother to turn on the lights or the heater, but walked towards her bedroom. When she turned on the stand lamp, a thin file of documents sitting on top of a desk besides the bed came into view. She picked up the pages and flipped through them slowly under the dim lighting. The first page bore the logo of the Harada design firm, the name of the client who commissioned the project, and her husband's signature, penned nearly six years ago. The second page contained the client representative's signature and her own, the date of the signing from more than several weeks ago.

In her hands, Rika held the finished contract to the last project which Harada had personally accepted, commissioned just before the night of the accident.

Gazing upon the free-flowing handwriting that was her husband's trademark style, Rika traced the letters slowly with her fingers, an eerie expression of calm on her face. Outside, the snow continued to fall silently.

"Sorry that I took so long. Just wait for me a little longer… I will be with you soon, Harada-kun..."

The sheets of documents fell to the floor from her hands as she slid down to the floor with her back against the bed. Wrapping her arms around herself, Rika buried her face deep into the soft folds of the beige scarf still wrapped around her neck; the only warmth she felt in that empty, chilly bedroom.

-----

Inside the Hanamoto residence, uncle and niece stood side by side in front of the sink in the usual configuration, one rinsing and one drying. Hagu performed the latter task with the aid of a small stool that elevated her sufficiently. She gazed up at her uncle, who was humming the tune of a famous American jazz piece as he sponged down a plate, and inquired with a smile on her face. "Shuu-chan seems really happy today, did something good happen?"

Shuu-chan returned his niece's smile with a teasing grin. "Something did, but it's a secret so I can't tell you about it."

He chuckled when Hagu pouted in response. "Hmph, Hagu knows why Shuu-chan is happy anyways, even if he won't tell me. It's because Rika-san is going to have tea with us again tomorrow, right?"

Shuuji laughed in reply. "That may very well be the case. Isn't Hagu looking forward to talking more with Rika?"

Hagumi nodded her head vigorously. "Mhmm! Rika-san is pretty, and fun to talk with, and knows more about art than Shuu-chan does!"

"Oi… that's going a bit too far isn't it? Now you're hurting my feelings…" Shuuji's melodramatic act of clutching at his heart caused Hagu to start giggling, which made in him smile in turn. "And didn't you say you had some sort of surprise that you wanted to show me? When am I going to see it?"

"Tomorrow! But I'm going to show it to Rika-san at the same time, because it's going to be a surprise for her too."

Bending down to face Hagu, Shuuji dried his hands and rubbed Hagu's head pleasantly, eliciting small squeals of protest. "Guess that makes two of us looking forward to tomorrow then."

Chapter 3-2: Their widening distance.