Paradigm Shift
Chapter 21: Megumi

She stood in front of him just as he remembered her, though he could hardly believe it was real.

It felt like the wind had been knocked from him, and a numbness ran through his body, his arm falling from the door handle to his side. He immediately raised it again to steady himself against the wall, certain he would otherwise collapse on the floor.

He was blatantly staring, and her dark eyes looked back at him nervously, turning down slightly as her espresso hair fell to her shoulders. She smiled weakly, the faint dimples he used to love so much appearing on each cheek.

"Hello Yamato."

It was a shock so overwhelming that he felt every thought disappear, his mind struggling to parse together what was happening. He had only woken up a minute ago by the sound of the doorbell. Was he dreaming? Was it delirium? Had he finally gone insane?

"Megumi," he heard himself saying, almost like a breath. Words failed him.

"Were you sleeping?" she asked, furrowing her brows. "It's early, isn't it? I can make you some tea to wake you up." She held up a small paper bag in her hand. "I brought you some from England I thought you'd like—"

He slammed the door in her face. He had done it reflexively without thought, stunned by her shameless approach. He hadn't seen her in eight months, yet she had come to his front door and acted like nothing had happened, having the audacity to suggest making him tea, bringing him a souvenir, as if she had just gone on holiday.

He heard knocking.

"Yamato," Megumi said through the door. He had forgotten how it felt when she would say his name. "I know you're angry with me, but please, Yamato, can we talk? I need to talk to you."

He stared at the door, unsure as to what he should do. On one hand, he wanted to listen to her. God, he wanted to listen to her. For months, he had wanted nothing more than to understand her, or to talk to her, or to be with her.

On the other…

"Yamato. Yamato, please," she begged, still knocking.

The familiarity of her voice cut through him, and he felt himself falter. He had acted this part in his imagination so many times that they had at one point governed this entire mind, yet faced with the reality he couldn't remember how any of those scenes had panned out.

"Yamato."

Was he supposed to beg her to take him back? No, he was too weak.

"Yamato."

Was he supposed to ask her how she was? No, he shouldn't care.

"Yamato."

Was he supposed to yell at her? Yes, that seemed right.

Forgetting the initial shock, he realised he was angry. He was surprised by the emotion, as he had always thought he would just break down in tears if he ever saw her again. He felt no such need, and if he were to cry, he was sure it would only be from rage.

"Yamato, open the door."

He obeyed her voice.

She smiled weakly at seeing him again, though it disappeared when he did not return it.

"What do you want," he asked stoically, saying the question as if it were a statement.

She tried to smile again, though it was obvious she was faking it and nervous. "Don't look at me like that."

He didn't falter. "Look at you like what."

"Yamato," she stammered, voice cracking. "Yamato, it's me."

"I know who you are, but what do you want."

She swallowed hard, her eyes getting misty. "I've missed you so much."

Subconsciously, he let out a sharp laugh, laughing though nothing about the situation was funny to him.

"I've missed you," she repeated, stressing each syllable as if he needed help understanding those simple words.

He stopped laughing.

"I love you—"

"Shut up," he ordered, feeling his mind and sanity explode at her words.

She looked shocked by his tone, but she tried to play it off. "You don't need to snap at me, you know. I know you're angry, but—"

He stopped her. "Angry? What the hell makes you think I'm angry? I've never been better."

She reached out to him, possibly to stroke his hair or touch his face, but he immediately took a step back. Her hand stopped mid-air, and he instinctively thought about reaching out for it, but it returned too quickly to her side. He heard his bedroom door opening. He had forgotten she was here.

"Yamato, can we please talk? It's still early. I woke you up, didn't I? I wanted to wait until later in the day, but I needed to see you right away. I couldn't wait another second—"

"Matt, who is it?"

Megumi froze at the sound of Mimi's voice. He turned to the direction of where Mimi would appear. He felt a strange sense of satisfaction upon seeing her.

Look, Megumi. Look how well I'm doing without you. Look at how beautiful my new girlfriend is. Look how happy we are. Tell me how much you needed me, so I can tell you how much I didn't end up needing you after all.

He reached out an arm to beckon her. Dressed in one of his shirts, Mimi walked into his embrace, letting him put an arm around her as he kissed the top of her head.

"Hello," Mimi said pleasantly to Megumi, oblivious to the association between them. "Are you a friend of Matt's?"

Neither answered her. He was focused solely on Megumi's reaction, watching as her realisation unfolded. When Mimi had initially appeared, Megumi had merely looked stunned, but he was now watching the transformation from disbelief to devastation.

Her slightly tanned complexion paled, and she started to shake as she fought back the tears welling in her eyes. He saw her hand tremble as she used it to cover her mouth.

Confused by the silence, Mimi stepped forward, stretching out an arm for a handshake. "Hi, I'm Mimi. It's nice to meet you."

Megumi didn't take it, looking at her hand for a moment before turning to glare at him. Her general demeanour was intimidating, but she had this facial expression she made whenever she was angry that would scare him.

"How could you do this to me?" she demanded icily.

He gave her a cold shrug. "If I recall correctly, I didn't do anything. You were the one who brought it on yourself, so if you don't have anything left to say—"

"Don't worry," she interrupted, eyes flaring at him hatefully. "I'm already gone."

She turned her heel and began to storm away to the direction of the lift. He stared at her, waiting for her to turn around and feeling his heart beat faster with each step she took without doing so. Even though he was the one who told her to leave, he couldn't believe she was actually doing it.

What was the point of her even coming here if she was going to give up so easily?

He felt a light tug on his shirt. "Matt, what's going on?"

He ignored her, eyes still focused on Megumi, who still hadn't turned around. He couldn't believe this. He couldn't believe her.

He pulled away from Mimi and followed Megumi into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He practically sprinted to catch up and stepped in front of her. He saw that while she had managed to maintain some composure in front of him, she had started to cry in the short time she had walked away from his doorstep. Her eyes were red and puffy, her nose running. He wondered if this is what he looked like when she had told him they were breaking up.

"Why are you here?" he demanded.

She didn't answer his question, instead giving one of her own. "How could you do this to me?"

"Do what to you?" he asked, raising his voice even though she hadn't raised hers. "I don't think I've done anything wrong here."

"How could you?" she asked him, her voice trembling but maintaining the same volume it always did. Megumi never yelled. It used to drive him crazy because he was the direct opposite. "How could you move on already? I had to come back because I couldn't stand to be away from you, but you!" She broke character, her voice rising. Realising it, she lowered it again. "You were obviously just fine."

What she couldn't express vocally, she did by reaching out to hit his shoulder, though it didn't hurt. It occurred to him that this was their first touch in eight months.

No, seven months and twenty seven days. How was it that he still knew? How was it that he was still counting?

"How could you forget about me already, Yamato?"

She had managed to say it with some composure, but immediately afterwards broke down as she sunk to the floor. He watched as she wailed uncontrollably, never in his life seeing her like this. He would have thought he'd like to see her look as broken as he had been, but he felt no such gratification.

It was a weird feeling. He had at times successfully convinced himself that Megumi was fine without him, but he had always known she wouldn't be. To hear it from her directly gave him a sense of resolution, though it didn't change anything.

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her up, nervous that a neighbour would come out and jump to conclusions. He was so shaken that he didn't notice how tightly he was grasping her until she whimpered from the pain. He loosened his grip. She stood upright, and he glared at her.

Just as he was scared of her angry face, she was afraid of his. He knew she hated it, as she had not failed to point it out to him every time he gave it.

"You're shameless," he said finally. He wanted to sound calm to maintain some dignity, but he knew he was yelling. "You really thought I'd take you back after what you did?! You dumped me for a job! You moved halfway across the world! You wouldn't even let me keep in touch with you! Who in their right mind would take somebody like you back?! Tell me, Megumi! I'm dying to understand your logic!"

She looked just as angry. "What does it matter? You were fine without me anyway."

He felt an outpour of hysteria at her accusation—and in that calculated tone at that. He fought back the urge to shake some sense into her. He could hear the door to his flat open. Mimi came out, looking confused. The interruption made him even more irritated than he already was.

"Can you two stop screaming at each other and tell me what's going on?"

Megumi wiped her eyes and tried to collect herself before speaking up first. "Are you dating him?"

"Obviously she is," he answered for her, walking to Mimi and putting his arm around her. "This is Mimi, my girlfriend. Mimi, Megumi. We used to go to school together."

He felt Mimi freeze against him upon hearing the name. She stepped away from him, making his arm fall from her waist back to his side.

Fresh tears clouded Megumi's eyes at his introduction, though her expression looked more angry than sad.

"How long have you two been dating?" she demanded rather rudely.

"Since December," he answered.

Megumi started shaking again as the maths came to her. "You only waited four months…" Suddenly, she directed her glare to Mimi. "He's mine, you know. Yamato has always been my man."

To his surprise, Mimi got defensive. She stood taller, though she was still shorter than Megumi. "I'm sorry. I don't know who you are, but I'm pretty sure that he is now my man."

Megumi seemed to realise how rude she had come across, softening a little though she stood her ground. "You don't understand. You've known him for a few months. I dated him for thirteen years. Yamato is just angry right now, but we have tremendous history—"

"'History,'" Mimi emphasised, flushing pink.

"He's just upset right now," Megumi repeated, looking at Mimi almost pleadingly, as if she was expecting her to give him up. "Once he calms down, he can tell you too. We've been with each other too long to forget each other. Even though we were apart for a little while, we're still very much in love—"

"Don't talk to my girlfriend that way, Megumi," Matt interrupted, unable to listen to the rest. "Don't put words in my mouth either. Believe me, between being so busy with work and being so happy with Mimi, I haven't had a single chance to think about you."

She tried to keep some fraction of composure but failed within seconds. She started sobbing again, trying to remind him that how much they loved each other. Didn't he remember? Didn't he?

"Don't you remember, Yamato?"

"Remember?" he spat back angrily. "The girl I remember wouldn't have done what you did without so much of a warning or a sliver of compassion. I haven't heard from you in months. For all I knew, you could've been dead. I don't know you anymore, so don't pretend like you know me either. You're made of ice, Megumi, and you're nothing to me."

Whatever remnants of self-control she still had left her, and she ran to him, hugging him around his torso, crying loudly, repeating his name, begging him. Mimi stepped back, looking lost as to what to do. Matt knew he was supposed to push her off, but this was the first time she had held him since their breakup. Although he wouldn't react outwardly, inside he didn't want her to stop clutching him. Could she feel his heartbeat? He wish it'd stop betraying him by racing so quickly.

"You should leave," he said finally, not acknowledging her desperation. "You're making my girlfriend uncomfortable."

She wouldn't, still begging him, apologising profusely, stuttering nonsense that made no sense to either one of them. He almost missed this—her touch—and it almost weakened him.

Almost, almost.

He wouldn't allow himself to miss her anymore, so he peeled her off and seized her by the wrist again, too frightened to go for her hand. He ignored her plea to listen to her, dragged her to the lift and put her inside, pressing the button for the ground level as he did so.

"Go back to England, Meg," he said, letting go of her. Then, he repeated what she had once told him. "There's nothing for you here."

It was the same sight she had left him eight months ago. Her entire body shaking uncontrollably, a trembling hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs. Back then, he had been in the same state, breaking down in a way he never had before. She had tried to comfort him back then. This time, he merely glared at her, watching as she went through the same.

This was what she deserved for what she did to him. This was his retribution.

It wasn't until the lift doors started closing that reality hit him. In front of him had been the woman he had been with since he was fourteen, the woman who was responsible for his happiest memories and darkest hours, the only woman who knew everything about him, the only woman he had ever loved.

For all that, he had basically thrown her away.

The doors closed, ending the first and possibly only encounter he would have with her post-breakup. It just wasn't what he had expected. In the months he had spent agonising over that moment, he never imagined it would carry out like this. He didn't like it at all. He put his fingers to his unknowingly wet eyes. When had he started crying? He felt his mind racing but couldn't focus his thoughts on any one point. They were busily replaying the pathetic moment he had begged her to stay with him alongside every other memory of her.

He took a breath to collect himself before turning around back towards his flat.

He was surprised to see Mimi standing in the hallway, as he had forgotten that she had even been there in the first place. Her eyes were looking straight at him, though he couldn't read what they were saying. He walked to her and tried to put his arm around her, but she immediately unfroze. She pushed him away and stormed back into his flat. He followed her, almost mechanically, finding her in his room, changing angrily back into her own clothes.

"Where are you going?"

Arms full of her belongings, she jerked around to glare at him. It was so insidious that he didn't even expect it to come from a person as pure as her. He almost expected her to slap him.

"I don't know who you think you are to me, but don't you ever use me to get back at your ex again," she snapped furiously. She jabbed her shoulder into him as she fumed past him, and he made no effort to follow her, knowing it was a lost cause.

He ran his hands through his face.

Now what?

21 February 2020

Finally! This was one of the first chapters I ever wrote back in 2012, though I did have to clean it up quite a bit.

Sorry for neglecting Taiora. They'll be back in the next chapter. Make sure to watch Kizuna!