Paradigm Shift
Chapter 13: Unspoken
Even after accepting his single life, Matt found it to be as mundane as ever. It didn't take him long to understand it was because he had carved it that way.
He noticed, for example, that he had not made a single friend in his adult life. He had acquaintances, sure, but none he could classify as a person he could truly trust or confide in. He turned to his childhood friends, only to find that they were all leading their own lives, much like how he had always led his own. Despite their attempts to integrate him, he felt too much like a nuisance. Tai said he had unreasonably high standards for friendship, but they were clearly pitying him.
He had never gotten to know his co-workers, even though he had been with the company for years. He liked the barrier that separated his work life from his personal life, but he kept an open mind and agreed when a group of them decided to go to happy hour after work one day.
They went to an unassuming, average pub, picked due to its convenient location of being the closest pub to their office. Apparently, they gathered there often, especially Thursdays, though this was all news to him. Surrounded by a dozen or so colleagues in their mid-twenties to their early thirties, he tried to enjoy himself.
A few drinks in, he felt like everyone was having fun with the exception of him. He was used to seeing them in a professional environment, experts in their field. He felt his image of them break upon seeing them swear, gossip, and drink like ordinary citizens. He didn't like it at all. Perhaps he also had unreasonably high standards for professionalism.
One of the few women in his department was flirting with him, asking if she could drop his last name and call him Matt. He gave her permission to do so because it wasn't like he could say no. He talked to her not because he particularly favoured her but because it was always easier for him to talk to one person as opposed to a group. He hadn't quite formed a particular opinion of her yet when she suddenly turned him off by telling him how great he was.
He knew he wasn't.
It was when someone poked fun that Yamazaki liked Ishida that he decided to make his exit, leaving behind a wave of disapprovals.
When he arrived home, he saw Tai sitting in front of his work computer at their bar. Tai glanced his way briefly, turning his head back to his screen after confirming it was just him.
He looked to be in a bad mood.
"I'm home," Matt announced unnecessarily when his flatmate failed to acknowledge his presence.
"I'm about to leave," Tai said, leaning back in his barstool to give Matt an equally unnecessary glaring look. "I don't want you to feel like Sora's intruding by being over all the time, so even though your ex used to practically live with us, I'm going to hers."
Tai got over things quickly. If he was still being so unpleasant, it must have actually made him angry.
"I'm sorry for being rude," Matt offered in peace.
Tai tried his best to maintain his sour expression, though the apology was already working. He was easy like that. He nodded towards the bag in Matt's hand. "What's that?"
"I'm going to cover the hole in my wall," he explained. He had stopped by the shops to pick up some tools, not wanting a moment of fury to keep him from receiving his deposit when he would one day move out.
Tai looked sceptical. "Yeah right. Do you even know what you're doing? You'll probably make it worse."
"I'm handier than you think I am." Having grown tired of their conversation already, he decided to end it. "Have fun at Sora's."
"It's New Years Eve," Tai pointed out even as Matt was heading towards the corridor. "Don't hole yourself up in here. Go see your family or something. Kari told me she and TK are at your mum's. Why don't you go there?"
"I saw them yesterday," Matt replied.
"You're allowed to see them two days in a row," Tai said annoyingly. He hopped off the chair, closing his laptop with a swat of his hand. "Anyway, I'm leaving. See you later."
He looked at the closed door for a moment, the silence of the flat failing to provide the welcome sense of solitude the way it used to. He always used to think he'd fare well living by himself, though he now thought he had been wrong. He probably needed people more than he led himself to believe.
He shook off the thought and headed to his room, laying out his tools so he could attempt to cover up the fist sized crater in his wall. He briefly read an article about how to do it online. He was sure he could figure it out.
Somewhere between making progress and giving up completely, he felt his mobile vibrate in his pocket. It was probably Tai, but he felt a short sense of anticipation in hoping it was her.
It wasn't either of them. He saw Mimi Tachikawa's name flash on his screen.
He hadn't seen or talked to her since the night he met her. Tai hadn't mentioned her either, so he had assumed their beginning was also their end. That had been fine with him, but he picked up anyway.
"Hello?"
"You're singing for me tonight."
He had forgotten how forward she was.
"Pardon?" he asked in confusion.
"You told me you'd sing for me one day. I'm giving you your opportunity now. What are you doing tonight?"
He looked at the mismatched white spot on his navy wall.
"I'm a little busy tonight."
"Are you going out?"
"Er…"
"It's New Year's Eve!" she squealed knowingly. "My friend's band is having a jam session in Shinjuku, but their bass guitarist is out. You said you play, right? I already volunteered you, so you have to come."
"I can't."
"Well, why not?" she demanded in a whingey voice. She was probably drunk.
"You see, I have this hole in my wall…"
"You what? Your what has a what?"
He heard a door slide open and shut again, and any background noise that had been distracting her from the call was gone.
"Say that again?"
He repeated it.
"What?" she reacted again, realising that she hadn't misheard him the first time.
It wasn't interesting and he left out details, but soon he was explaining to her the reasoning behind his statement. She found it deeply amusing and by the time he hung up, he had promised he would stop by afterwards.
He could see the disappointment on Sora's face the moment she opened the door and saw his work laptop tucked beneath his arm.
"Are you kidding me?" she asked, frowning even as he kissed her hello. "It's a three-day weekend. You have to work now?"
"My boss is making me be on call in case this huge project comes in," Tai explained. "I only need to log on if she tells me to, but you know I hate working from my phone."
How anyone could work from a 3.5-inch BlackBerry screen was beyond him.
"You need to quit."
He didn't respond, taking off his coat instead. He hung it up and set his work laptop on the coffee table, along with the case of beer he had brought. When he looked at Sora again, he was smiling, ready to change the subject.
"Let's eat."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't you ever think about anything else other than your stomach?"
"Yes," he answered simply, walking over to her and burying his head in the crook of her neck, "but I'm hungry. You told me not to eat a lot today, so that's what I did."
She walked forward, breaking his embrace of her. He almost lost his balance, not having expected that. She turned her head as she headed towards the kitchen.
"Mimi and I made handmade soba noodles for the new year."
He caught himself before he accidentally groaned. He loved soba noodles, but Mimi he loved less. He hoped Sora wasn't saying she was here and was relieved to find out she was not. Mimi seemed to hate him less each time they saw each other, but they were far from being friends.
Soon, they were seated at her dining table, he already a few bites in when she reverted back to the subject of his job.
"Are you working a lot?"
"Kind of. We're about to close a deal with a partner in Hong Kong," he explained. "It has a nice bonus attached to it if we get this, so it'll be worth it."
"Is that all you care about? Money?"
He pretended not to hear the patronising undertones. "Money's nice."
"You told me you wanted to quit once. What happened to the UN? I thought you wanted to impact the world."
"I do," he stated, "but I can't just get up and quit."
"I bet you never will," she concluded sharply. She looked down, and by the time she made eye contact again, her expression had changed. "Anyway, what do you want to do tonight?"
She did this sometimes, saying her last word and changing the subject to something else. He usually let it go, and this wasn't something he particularly wanted to delve into in any case, but he couldn't help himself.
"Why does my job bother you so much?"
"It doesn't."
"Obviously, it does. Is it because I work when we're together? I don't have to do it."
"It's not that."
"Then what is it?" The impatience was starting to show in his voice too.
"It's nothing."
He liked to think he was laidback. He liked to think not having the last word didn't bother him, especially in menial situations like this, but it annoyed him that she wasn't giving him anything.
"I can drop this," he started haughtily, not the least bit ready to drop it, "but if something about me bothers you, tell me so I can do something about it. You always want me to read your mind, which obviously I can't."
"I'm not bothered," she countered, her pitch rising. "You told me once you wanted to quit for something more meaningful, which you don't seem to have any intention of doing, so I was just pointing it out."
"Yeah, but why are you suddenly bringing it up? Is it because I brought my stupid computer? I don't have to check it. I can turn off my phone. Do you want me to quit? This is a huge acquisition, and I—"
"You said you'd drop it," she interrupted, her voice back to normal.
He wanted to continue and scowled at her sudden request, but he let it go. "Fine."
They started eating in silence. He knew he was acting immature by giving her the cold shoulder, but she wasn't any better. The UN was still his dream, but realistically he couldn't drop everything. It was too important a time. He'd be screwing over his department, and he was never one to do something so selfish. Her tone accused him of being a minion to his company, but she was taking out other important factors. She always had to be right.
"How are the noodles?" she asked him, breaking their silence.
He instinctively wanted to give her a one-word answer, but he stopped himself upon remembering that she had spent time to make this for him.
"It's really good," he answered, looking up to give his best grateful face. "I can't believe you made this from scratch."
"It was my first time trying, but Mimi helped a lot."
Sora had mentioned Mimi liked cooking. This was surprising to him because she looked like the kind of high maintenance girl who would never step foot into a kitchen.
"She's going to a party tonight," Sora continued. "I told her we might drop by."
He pretended to look interested. "What kind of party?"
"Her friend is throwing a New Years party. I think it's supposed to be low-key and just at someone's flat, but I thought you'd like to go because you like going out."
"I don't know. I kind of want to stay here," he said lazily. He looked down at his clothes. Never one to care about his appearance outside of work, it did still occur to him that he very much looked the part of staying in. For one thing, he was wearing his faded, hooded jumper that his mother tried to throw away each time she saw it, citing that it made him look like a homeless schoolboy.
She broke into a small smile, the first in a while that night. "Am I turning you into a homebody?"
"This is the first New Years I'm spending at home," he admitted. "I guess I'm at the age where I can start doing this."
"You're only twenty-seven."
"And a half," he emphasised.
"Well, aren't you so old."
She rolled her eyes, getting up to clear the table. He instantly followed her, taking his empty bowl with him. "So… can I spend the night tonight?"
She ignored him, instead pointing to the other plates in the dining table she wanted him to retrieve for her. He did so in order to simultaneously please and pester her.
"It's New Year's Eve. I want to drink and have fun, even if we aren't going to go out. I'm putting my foot down on this, Sora."
She turned around, narrowing her eyes at him.
"Please," he added quickly.
"We'll see."
It was something. He was determined not to be shooed away tonight.
"The couch is okay too," he said, negotiating with himself. "I drove here. You don't want me to get arrested, do you? Or worse, die."
"We'll see," she repeated firmly.
He could tell he was starting to annoy her. He decided to stop talking, even though he found it ludicrous that she wouldn't even consider the couch. They were adults, for crying out loud. It took all of him to not point this out to her.
"So if you want to go to Mimi's thing, maybe we can go," Sora started again. "You can invite Matt."
He would have groaned but restrained himself. After that first "date," he thought Sora and Mimi would have both realised Matt wasn't in any sort of dateable state, but Sora continued to slip the two of them into their conversations.
"You're not still set on that, are you? You realize he's still in love with his ex-girlfriend, right?"
She glared at him. He cleared his throat and thought of another excuse.
"Besides, if I'm too lazy to go, Matt most certainly will be."
The door was agape.
Through it, he could hear the sound of live music, conversation and laughter. Though it wasn't obnoxious, he was sure the neighbours minded the noise. It was the kind of thing that would annoy him had it been his own neighbours.
Feeling too strange to walk in unannounced, he texted her instead. Within seconds, Mimi came out to see him, kissing both his cheeks hello. He remembered his first impression of her was that she was doll-like in appearance, beautiful but so predictably so. Tonight, she seemed much more ethereal to him. She had definitely been in date mode the first time they met, he decided, as she had been much more made up then. Tonight, she wore a floor-length dress that he thought looked too thin for the weather, her hair tied back in a ponytail.
She caught him looking at her and pulled down on the elastic holding her hair up, letting it fall into loose waves.
"Sorry," she said in haste, combing her fingers through. "It's just an old group of friends, so it's nothing fancy."
"You look fine," he said awkwardly.
He should have chosen a better word. It sounded so insincere. It wasn't like he was in any sort of impressive state either. He had lost weight, let his hair grow too long, hadn't changed from the wrinkled shirt he had plucked off the floor this morning.
She brushed aside the uncomfortable moment and led him inside, taking the initiative to introduce him to every person there, even though he forgot each of their names instantaneously. There were approximately twenty people in the flat, a number large enough to feel like he was surrounded by too many people but small enough to where everyone noticed he didn't belong. They were all as friendly as she was, however, each asking him questions about himself, which in retrospect he realised he had forgotten to reciprocate. He could sometimes be rude like that. He knew of this flaw but rarely made any concerted effort to fix it.
She then did the worst thing she could have done to him.
A few minutes into a conversation between her, him, and a friend whose name he had already forgotten, she excused herself and left him alone with a stranger, telling him to mingle and have fun.
He felt oddly betrayed, though this was absurd. She knew him as little as he knew her, so it wouldn't have occurred to her that he hated being placed in situations like this.
"So, how do you know Mimi?" asked the unnamed person. He was taller than Matt, built athletically with wavy brown hair he would toss every once in a while, green eyes that seemed friendly and uninterested at the same time.
"My flatmate is dating her friend," Matt answered. He felt oddly inferior next to him for no good reason.
Her friend nodded. "That's cool. Mimi's a cool girl."
He had no response for that.
"You're the bass guitarist, right?"
She must have told them one of the maybe half dozen things she knew about him. He nodded.
"I play drums."
He noticed that all of these friends had some sort of liberal arts introduction attached to them. They were all painters, photographers, musicians, actors, writers, etc. He had wanted to go that route until reason told him to pick something more practical. Reason and Megumi, the most practical person he knew.
"I also teach music to impoverished children who can't afford lessons."
The inadequacy returned.
"I work for JAXA," Matt responded.
"That's cool, mate. Are you an astronaut?"
He hated this question.
"No."
Mimi returned, surprising him with a sudden clutch to his arm. He tried to recover from it as she shoved a plastic cup to his face, giggling at his alarmed response. He turned his attention away from what's-his-face, downing whatever was left in his current cup to put the fresh one on top.
"Why didn't you bring your bass guitar?" she lamented, pulling his arm to drag him away from the other bloke who had, despite the poor conversation, been nice enough to socialise with him.
"I had assumed you were joking," he answered honestly.
She pouted, still attached to him. "But you were supposed to play for me. Tai told me you're really good."
"Just so we're clear, Tai is tone deaf. He doesn't know what he's talking about."
She smirked at his jab for a split second, pouting again. "But it's the only reason I invited you."
"The only reason?" he repeated.
He hadn't meant that in any particular way, but she took a lock of her hair between her fingers, standing up taller to get closer to him. "Well, maybe not the only reason, but it was a nice excuse, right?"
Teaches-Impoverished-Children came back. "Meems, we need a singer. Ours is MIA. What do you say?"
Mimi lowered herself to her regular height again. She looked up at him.
"Matt?"
He actually quite enjoyed playing music for people, but he realised now that he needed someone he knew supporting him. He always played either with people he knew or in front of at least one person who knew him. In a flat full on strangers, he felt too shy.
He shook his head no, instead choosing to stand in a corner by himself, nibbling on the plastic of his cup, wondering what the hell he was doing here.
He didn't know the song they started playing. It sounded like folk, a genre he wasn't particular into.
Fixing his attention on her, he found her voice was as melodic as he had guessed, a light lyric soprano without being too pitchy or airy. Her vocal ability was probably as average as he had learned his to be, but he enjoyed it nevertheless, closing his eyes to concentrate but opening them abruptly when she hit the song's climax.
He didn't know why she suddenly popped up. Mimi didn't sound like her in the least. Contrary to Mimi's sweet, girly voice, hers was deeper, more powerful. Contrary to his, she had a natural talent.
He wasn't cheating, obviously. He would not only have to be physically involved, but he would also have to be in a relationship. Neither was the case here, yet he felt overcome with guilt.
He reached for his mobile in his pocket, checking the screen for a notification he knew wasn't there. The feeling of guilt disappeared, and instead he wanted to cry from frustration.
She was morbid and horrifyingly so.
He wished her to appear now, just so he could point to the pretty girl on the makeshift stage—much more beautiful than herself—and show her how well he was doing without her.
He lost focus of what was happening in front of him, visualising instead the imaginary confrontation. He would say this—no this—and when she would beg him to forgive her, he would—
He stopped himself. He was being psychotic. He poured the remainder of his drink down his throat and decided he was in dire need of a cigarette.
Tai had heard from his sister once that her favourite moments with her boyfriend were the ones that weren't particularly special. As she put it, she found each moment with him precious, even the ones that weren't particularly thrilling.
He had rolled his eyes a little bit after he found out she was referring to studying for an exam together at the school library.
He loved his sister, but her lovey dovey relationship was too much for him sometimes.
To her credit, her success rate at maintaining a relationship far exceeded his, but now that he was in one, he couldn't disagree more.
Having given up on trying to hook up with Sora when she became sufficiently displeased with him, he was sprawled lazily on the couch, his work laptop open on his stomach though he was using it to scroll through the news. At the other end, Sora was talking to him about the projected weather forecast for the weekend.
He could classify this as boredom. He longed for something more.
Suddenly, that party she mentioned earlier was calling his name.
He would have expressed this too, if only he didn't know it was the opposite of what she wanted.
He admitted it. He was addicted. As he inhaled the tobacco-filled air, he felt a small bit of his stress alleviate, her ghost temporarily shooed away.
It was a shame. It had taken him ages to quit the first time, and he wasn't sure he could endure that hell again.
He heard the balcony door open.
"I didn't know you smoked."
He turned his head slightly to see Mimi, instantly feeling ashamed. She handed him another cup of the mixed drink he thought was too sweet.
"Do you want one?" he asked, knowing it was the wrong thing to say.
"No, thank you," she declined, leaning over the balcony. "That's a pretty bad habit."
He shrugged. "I thought I wasn't addicted anymore, but I was wrong."
She leaned across the railing, and he put out his cigarette, not wanting her to have to breathe it in with him.
"There are other ways to relieve stress," she said, looking at him intently.
She started listing some, but he wasn't listening.
His common sense hindered by the alcohol in his system, he knew he was blatantly staring at her. He couldn't say he felt anything towards her, but hadn't he felt the same about his co-worker? He had left Yamazaki from work without looking back, but he had actually made the effort to go out of his way for Mimi. He wondered why. As far as he could tell, he knew very little about either person, so there were miniscule differences between the two. He could admit he found her attractive, but he had always thought he wasn't so shallow.
Yet, as he scrutinised her face, it wasn't her personality or musical ability or anything of that sort that caught his eye. It was how every physical feature she possessed seemed to be so perfect. She was the kind of attractive that a single Tai would be all over, which, now that he thought about it, he once had.
His staring didn't go unnoticed.
"What's wrong?" she asked him, looking self-conscious.
He would usually brush off such a question. He would be too embarrassed to answer and hastily cover it up with some excuse and change the topic, but he currently felt no desire to hide it.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but I think you're beautiful."
He thought he had said it as emotionlessly as possible, but she blushed anyway. "Why would I take that the wrong way?"
He looked away, too chicken to admit it to her face.
"Because I don't want you to think I'm hitting on you."
He imagined her face falling from the corner of his eye. "Oh."
Neither said anything for a while. It was probably uncomfortable and tense, but it went unnoticed by him. She broke it first.
"What was your ex-girlfriend like?"
He turned his head again. He was looking directly at Mimi but thinking of her, expression blank to mimic his brain. He didn't want to think about her, and it was none of Mimi's business, but in that moment he didn't care.
"She was perfect."
His answer was the direct opposite of what he wanted to say, and he hated himself for being too honest.
She broke into a smile, gathering her hair over one shoulder. "That's pretty difficult to compete with."
He didn't react to that one.
"You shouldn't keep sulking over her," she continued. "Enjoy life. She's gone, and there's more to life than her. Everything happens for a reason, so perhaps what you think is such a tragedy is actually a blessing in disguise."
She was so positive. The opposite of him. Megumi was as pessimistic as he was, but they both lied and believed they were just realistic. He wondered what it was like to be so optimistic all the time, and not in that annoying, uncaring way Tai was.
"I was lying when I said I wasn't hitting on you."
She looked up with interest, though she didn't say anything. He continued.
"I was. I said I wasn't because I feel guilty. It hasn't been that long since I was with my ex."
"Your perfect ex," she clarified lightly.
He really wished he hadn't said that.
"She wasn't perfect. She was anything but that. I just feel like I'm doing a bad thing."
"By?"
"By liking you," he finished.
He would have never been this talkative had he been sober, but even then he couldn't say he had had that much to drink.
"How long were you two dating?"
For being so honest, he didn't want her to know. A thirteen-year relationship sounded like too much baggage.
Because it was.
"A long time," he answered vaguely.
She shrugged, not prying for more. "People move on at different speeds. I didn't think Sora, for example, was ever going to get over that guy, and she finally did after all these years."
He thought this was something he should remember to tell Tai, but his mind selfishly focused on her.
She had said something that made herself laugh. He hadn't heard it, so he didn't return it. She looked disappointed.
"You don't joke much, do you?"
"Not really."
He leaned forward, stopping when her hand hit his chest to prevent him.
"Don't worry," she said with a smile. "I know you've been drinking, so I won't let you do anything stupid. We're friends. I won't take advantage of you."
"Why not?"
She stared at him, as if his response had been so uncalled for.
"You just gave me a spiel about living life, and now you're denying me of that."
She took a step back. "I have to protect myself too, you know."
He felt insulted. "Protect yourself? I've been in one relationship my whole life. Watch out for guys like Tai, not guys like me. Guys like me are incapable of doing jerk things."
"All guys are jerks one way or another."
"I take offense to that. I'm not. Let me prove it to you."
Her palm was still against his chest, her large eyes staring at him. He tried not to look away, though he wasn't sure how long he could hold it. This wasn't him. Her hand balled into a fist, taking his shirt beneath her fingers before she pulled herself to him, pecking his lips. She was about to pull away but he wouldn't let her, deepening the kiss. He felt nothing, so he pulled her closer, waiting for any feeling to arise.
She pulled away.
"Are you over her?" she asked, looking straight at him.
He stared back. "No."
She frowned, pulling away more though his grip on her back prevented her from doing so. "What kind of an answer is that?"
"An honest one. I'm not over her, but I want to be."
Perhaps it was too honest. He saw her face fall even more.
"It sounds like you're using me."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Then what did you mean?"
"I don't know," he said breathily, lowering his forehead to hers, hoisting her up to his level again. The urge that wasn't there before belatedly rushed through him. "Can we talk about it later?"
He knew he sometimes said the wrong thing, such as now. Unable to take it any longer, he had moved his laptop aside and sat up to kiss her again. She let him for a little bit, as she always did, though she got up shortly afterwards, leaving him on the couch by himself.
"Do you want dessert?" she asked.
He was usually okay with her changing the subject. He was always okay with dessert. Right at that moment, however, he blurted,
"Are we ever going to have sex?"
She looked shocked, then annoyed. "Excuse me?"
"Does it never occur to you that we've been doing the same thing for three and a half months, and it's not going anywhere?"
For a second, he thought she was going to break up with him, but instead she glared and left the room without saying anything. Knowing he had done something wrong, he stood up and followed her carefully.
"I'm sorry," he said with his head down. "That was uncalled for."
She was still glaring at him. "If you want to sleep with somebody, why don't you go out and find someone who's willing? From what I hear, you're really good at that."
"Okay, not trying to undermine my apology, but that was also uncalled for."
She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. "You started it, Tai."
"I know I did, and I'm sorry." He walked closer to her to kiss her, but she wouldn't let him. "Let's stop fighting."
"This isn't a fight. It's a conversation."
"Well, it sure is an aggressive one," he said with a chuckle.
"It's not funny, Tai," she snapped, backing a step.
"I'm not laughing," he said, even though he just had. "Let's stop. I don't want to ring in the New Year with another fight. I'm sorry I was insensitive. Let's drop it. Please?"
"No."
"Sora."
"We obviously have problems. You tell me your issues, and I'll tell you mine, so we aren't always brushing things under the rug. This isn't a fight, Tai. We're in a relationship. We're supposed to talk about things."
"We both know this is going to become a fight, and I don't want to deal with that right now—"
"You don't want to deal with me right now is what you're saying."
"Stop putting words in my mouth," he said heatedly. "You know that isn't what I said."
"But it's what you mean."
For the first time, he felt true anger towards her. He knew his mouth could think for itself when he was angry, so he didn't say anything for a while. Neither did she, staring at him with the same amount of fury if not more.
"You're waiting for me to mess up," he said finally. "You try to make it out that I'm the worst boyfriend ever, but you're the one always looking for an excuse to start something."
She looked horribly offended. "I'm not waiting for you to mess up, Tai. I'm being cautious!"
"Cautious about what?!"
"About you!" she snapped loudly. Her attempts to maintain composure were slipping, her breathing unsteady as she lowered her voice. "Do you even like me?"
"What kind of a question is that?" he asked angrily. "I'm just annoyed right now, but obviously I like you."
"Then why don't you show it?"
He was tired of this cryptic bullshit.
"What are you even saying, Sora? I obviously don't get it, so just spell it out for me."
She got aggressively close to him, her face flushed with anger. "All you ever want to do is hook up, but when's the last time you've done anything romantic? Hell, when was the first time you did anything romantic? I'm suffocating over here."
"Hey, I'm a very romantic guy!" he retorted back, his defensive line instinctively kicking in. Then, realising the absurdity of his lie, he corrected, "Okay, I'm not. I know I'm not. You know I suck at this kind of thing, so can't you give me a break?"
"Can't you give me one?" she shot back. She backed away again, closing her eyes. She took a deep breath, sitting back down. "Let's cool off. I'm getting angry."
He carefully sat down beside her, leaving enough space so they weren't touching. This happened often and without warning. They weren't just bickering. They would have full-fledged arguments. He had friends with significant others who fought, of course, but he himself was never one to get into so many disputes.
He had never met anyone who was always challenging everything he thought and did. He wondered if it was just the way she was, or whether they actually clashed so much. When they had first met, he had thought she was just like him.
"Told you this was a fight."
She stuck out her elbow and jabbed his arm with it.
"Tai, this isn't funny. There's obviously something wrong with us."
"Stop thinking like that. I like you a lot even if I don't say it out loud all the time. You don't have to overanalyse everything."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"No, I'm not. Stop acting like you can read my mind when it's convenient for you."
"You're doing it again."
She shot him a glare, which he missed as he dug into his pocket for his vibrating mobile, hitting a side key so that it'd stop ringing. It was followed by a text message.
Party at Lex tonight. I got your name on the guest list, so get off your lame corporate ass and go. Everyone else is.
He slid his mobile back in his pocket, still not catching sight of her glare, hardened further by his divided attention.
"I love it when you fight with me. It's so romantic."
He had grinned, trying to loosen the atmosphere, but to his horror, he saw her eyes well up. It had been a while since he had made anyone cry. Kiko probably, but that felt like forever ago.
As he saw the wet layer glaze over, eyelashes acting as the last futile barrier before they'd fall and she'd be crying, he felt himself freeze, not knowing what to do.
"Wait, Sora, I was just kidding. Look, I'm sorry. I thought I was being funny. I know I'm not funny. Don't cry. I'm sorry. I am. I'm the worst, please don't cry."
"I'm not crying because I'm sad," she clarified, ignoring his babbling, wiping her face with the sleeve of her jumper. "I'm so frustrated with you that I can't help tearing up."
He had started to pat her back, although he was certain it was of no use and at the very most was just a nuisance to her. "Tell me what to do so I can change."
She stood up as he was mid-pat. "I can't right now. My list is too long, and I'm just going to say things I'll regret if I tell you when I'm upset."
He tried not to pinpoint her use of "too long."
"You said you wanted to talk about it. Throw them at me," he insisted, standing up too. "I'm a big boy, Sora. It's hard to hurt my feelings."
People often said this to get others to say how they really felt, but in his case it actually was difficult to his feelings. It wasn't that he didn't care what others thought of him, though that was also kind of true. It was that he never really took anything, including himself, too seriously, and therefore he rarely took things personally.
That being said, she somehow managed to do it anyway by refusing him.
"I just don't want my last memory of this year to be another fight with you," she said tiredly, tears gone. She reached up to him, arms swaying over his shoulders as she nuzzled into his neck. "Can't you be the perfect boyfriend just one night?"
He was standing there, frozen. "How?"
"I don't know. Think of something. You can't rely on me to hold your hand all the time."
"Should I quit my job?" he joked. She didn't react, her breathing still against his neck.
"You're really not funny, Tai."
"I joke when I'm nervous."
"You joke 24/7."
He shrugged in agreement, then used the silence that followed to try to come up with something to appease the situation. He was usually good at thinking of ideas on the spot, but it wasn't coming to him as quickly this time. He felt enormous pressure as mindless drivel kept sprouting in his mind.
"I can't think of anything," he admittedly in defeat. "Can you give me a deadline?"
She drew her head back, arms still crossed behind his neck.
"You're useless."
Now she was joking. That was a good sign.
"I'll think of something," he promised, looking down at her. "I'll surprise you… one day…"
His lack of confidence made her laugh.
"You don't believe in me."
"I really don't." She finally pulled her arms away, feet landing back flat on the ground. Her face was free of any sort of the raw emotion that had just been in place. Had he not been there to see her so upset just minutes prior, he wouldn't have been able to guess anything had happened. He would have thought she was quite good at getting over things like him if he didn't know from experience what it actually was. Like Matt, she was just good at hiding it. He wondered if she, like Matt, also had a boiling point, and if so how close he was to losing her. How much longer would she continue to forgive him?
But why was it always him apologising anyway? He only ever knew he had done something wrong with the benefit of hindsight. She would get upset, and he would want to change that, but he couldn't remember ever feeling like he had intentionally premeditated to do something terrible to her.
He thought of every major fight they had had. The strip club incident. He had no ulterior motive other than to cheer up Matt. Mimi. That happened before they even knew each other. Sonoka's text messages. It hadn't even been him but his mates messing around. Her event that he left. There, he saw his mistake, but overall was he so awful? Was he giving too little? Was she expecting too much? Could he match her expectations?
At the beginning of the night, it was he who didn't want to delve into a conversation that could evoke any sort of unpleasantries, but now he wanted to know. Just how disappointing was he to her? How long was her list? Were they compatible, or was this a waste of time for them both?
He felt a light shake to his shoulder, followed by a long, slow kiss to the mouth.
If this was a waste, he was okay throwing that time away for now. There were many things he missed about his life pre-Sora, and it happened more than once that he would long for those former days. Having lived independently for so long, the adjustment to have to think for two did take its toll on him.
All of those trifle things, however, were disposable when faced against her. He thought back at the words Kari had said to him once. How he had rolled his eyes and mocked TK's character, but even after bemoaning to his colleagues that he wouldn't be able to go out this New Year's Eve, there was an unanswered invitation in his pocket that would remain ignored. She wouldn't want to go to a club, and despite the boredom and doing nothingness, he would rather stay here with her.
He was too proud to admit it, but his growing attachment to her was at times alarming.
He bit down to taste the flavour of her lip balm. Cherry. She backed away, complaining that he had hurt her, even though he hadn't.
She felt bad too. He could feel it.
"Are you still mad at me?"
"I'm always kind of mad at you."
It was another joke. She had said it with a cheeky smirk before asking him again for the dessert that had started everything. This time, he said yes.
The conversation was for another day. For now, as long as she continued to forgive him, this was enough.
It occurred to him as Mimi pulled him down on her bed with her that it was very much possible that she had once done the same thing to Tai.
He was very good at not saying anything. Professional even. He even had a distraction in the form of a semi-clothed woman beneath him.
He parted lips from her to speak anyway.
"Er, so when you and Tai… Did you bring him back here or…?"
She crushed her lips to his again to shut him up. He pulled away again, giving her his neck instead.
"It's just a little weird, don't you think?"
She collapsed on her bed, looking exasperated. "I don't believe this. I thought you didn't know."
"He kind of has a big mouth, and I live with him." He pulled on the collar of his shirt to straighten it, sitting up. Her room was very pink.
She hoisted herself up, throwing a leg over him as she pushed him down so that she was straddling him. "I really don't want to think about that right now. I didn't ask about your ex. You don't ask about him. Wouldn't you call that a fair deal?"
It was on paper but not in his mind. Withholding information from Tai and withholding information from this girl he barely knew were two very different things.
The fact of the matter was he knew Tai probably wouldn't care. In fact, it was highly likely that he cared more than Tai did. For all he knew, Mimi was looking for a one-night stand, and he was thinking too much into something that was never going to happen. He knew he was overthinking it.
He was eyelevel with her cleavage.
"Okay," he agreed.
09 September 2015
The Japanese eat soba noodles on New Year's Eve to symbolise living a long life. I actually don't like soba noodles very much, but I have it once a year just for tradition's sake.