Chapter 32
Turn the page
Naoki leaned against his room's door and slid slowly, limply, to the ground. His hands went to his head and he left them there, overwhelmed by an empty feeling inside him, unable to react appropriately to the turn of events in recent times.
He had gone from discerning his feelings to fall to the bottom of a cliff, pushed by a few words, hers… Behind them was a face, and it wasn't Kotoko's, but his own, full of impassivity, addressing her to make her his girlfriend in order to meet a stupid goal.
"I know," he whispered messing his hair, using the phrase of Kotoko that triggered the prelude to the storm. "She knows."
Pronounce that was the set off for his head to fill with thousands of lashes, with a broken voice of Kotoko dancing inside, peppering him in the chest and making him feel cold and contemptible.
She knew it.
His mind was busy repeating, over and over again, the wounded words of Kotoko, which penetrated deep into his being and revealed a situation that he would never have wished to happen, because it would have finished with the trust and love woman he loved.
Gritting his teeth, he hit his head against the wood repeatedly, so that the words gnawing his mind disappeared, and in an attempt to divert his attention from the mental pain to a physical one. He wanted the pain to wake him of that terrible dream to realize it was just a nightmare and that he had an opportunity to tell her and show her that he loved her, without the stupid plan becoming known.
But it was impossible, one thing or another. He was unable to forget the pain, and his emotional suffering was so extreme that it prevented him from thinking clearly and gathering calm to find a way.
"Consider what I want."
"It hurts me to see you."
Why did it have to be like that?
He swore against him again and again, repeating it aloud, while his head hit constantly against the door, without anything else to do that despise himself.
Why had he thought that stupid plan? It enabled him to know her, but also, it was the source of her damage, along with the slights, that he gave her many times… How couldn't he think before, that he would hurt her? That she would know?
Why had he been so blind?
It was his own fault, his indifference or his reserve had made her back up her belief of his disinterest towards her; he did not deny that, initially, it was that way… he had wanted it and planned it, but then it changed, and his few different actions were just of his knowledge because he didn't exteriorize anything.
It was his fault, his own foolishness. Not a minute did he take to think of what she might consider a lie; his actions could well mean that he didn't take much interest in her. What had he done? Why had he done folly after folly with her?
Why hadn't he tried to be more open? Or explore his feelings on time? If only he hadn't been so comfortable with what they had, and he had reflected before, he would have had the opportunity to show that he really cared for her, in a more noticeable way and not using phrases or words to justify his behavior—which said that he wasn't genuine in his attention—. Did his façade have such value that he couldn't be genuine?
He was a jerk… though, if he had done something to show her his importance, sooner or later something would have made her found out the reason to be his girlfriend, and everything would have been seen as a way to win her, to make her fall, as he had planned.
It had been a double-edged sword since the beginning. Everything went like a slippery slope, something small caused a big problem, because so much faith and loyalty she had for him, seemed built on a lie, filling of disappointment all the good times they had shared, destroying her confidence in him, which he both appreciated and valued, and that made him fall in love with her.
The irony was that, without still wanting it, he had met his goal of "having her in his pocket". However, extraordinary and fortunately, it was Kotoko who managed to catch him in her web, making him fall in love.
And now he had lost her.
"We cannot be together."
He had lost her.
She wanted nothing to do with him, because she would have in mind that he needed a girlfriend to meet his father's condition—which was not even true.
But he needed it. He needed Kotoko.
And he'd no longer have her, for a past mistake, for his circumspection, for not knowing how to say the right words, for being so obtuse and not realize what he felt, for staying in the comfort and not questioning his feelings for her in time.
Now he really knew what he felt that time before speaking and telling her to be his girlfriend, the call of conscience to reconsider without having uttered the words… that was a warning, which he could not identify and now had cost him his relationship with her. How could he have done that? It allowed him to know her, but eventually, it was the same reason that separate her from him.
Where was the genius? His great ability? Even the dumbest would have seen the wrong and vile of that goal of taking advantage of a person and wanting to manipulate it just to make a profit. Play with her feelings, use her, reject her, make her as if she were someone else… just as she had suggested.
Could he really be justified in any way?
She must despise him; hate him. She could not even see him; he should have killed her pure and immeasurable for him, which he took without hesitation, avoiding to offer himself in a genuine way or in one that was enough to counteract the effects of the knowledge of his initial motive.
If he had thought earlier, he could have told her…
What was he doing?
He could not even think clearly; the only certainty was that he had lost Kotoko for his own foolishness. There was nothing more certain than to say that things were more valued when they were going to lose them, or when you lost them.
He did not even have the strength to think there was a way to avoid losing her, or to recover her.
And he could not think of anything else than her and her words.
[…]
Lying on his bed, seeing nothing in particular, Naoki kept his eyes open, trapped in his own catastrophic thoughts. He could not bear to look in the mirror or look away to meet with the doll of Kotoko watching him from atop the bookcase, along with the boat she had given him, very heavy in meaning. Their presence made company to his overloaded and overwhelmed mind, which had been for twenty-four hours or more, or less, he did not know, sank into nothing and everything.
He felt a pain in the chest that didn't let him breathe normally, and an uneasiness, plus a feeling in the bottom of the stomach that caused him great discomfort and prevented him from being at full capacity. He was blocked now, but he could be sure that physically he was fine; he should be in tatters psychically, despite if previously he would have flatly denied anything like it.
It was so hard to name and describe for him how he felt now. He was like a being at home, a house so flat and empty as him; it lacked the melodramatic tone of his mother, the sympathy of his father, the good spirits of his father-in-law, the ingenious innocence of his brother, and the charisma, joy, and brightness of Kotoko.
The absence of all affected his current mood. Nevertheless, at the same time, not having them allowed him to be like that.
With the presence of others perhaps he could have shut down the switch, pretend as he often did—with the excuse that others could not observe such a show of weakness on his part—, and block the great feelings that ran in himself, while he still didn't understand what happened inside him.
When he tried to think clearly, his feelings, those that he often dismissed, stood in the way of his head like a huge obstacle, and the lump in his throat prevented him of rationalizing as usual.
However, he could not simply close entirely, not as usual, because he had never experienced such a level of pain, the helplessness of not having a solution… it had escaped his control, he had lost what he valued above all things, he could not recover it—and was it worth in his current circumstances?
His hands were empty of that thread that he pulled to control himself, he did not have a script of what he could do, and he had no idea of the result if he did something (if he could think of it).
He felt so helpless and powerless, as if nothing that he did would work. That, along with the shame and contempt he felt for himself, made him not want to face the outside world.
His inability to understand and respond had Naoki paralyzed, and the oppression on his chest prevented him from thinking.
And there was, deep down, a need to leave out what was happening inside, to let it flow, but his mind somehow refused to do so, knowing how visceral it would be to do it, how so out of him and unusable it would be.
He could not deal with all of it; those sensations, feelings and emotions… he could not.
How did people have that on themselves and kept going? He wanted to be the same as before and to forget about that event, get a way to recover the woman he loved and whom he had hurt.
She couldn't see him, but he only felt a longing to be close to her, so her presence ensured him that all was okay between them. He longed for her smile, the same like the first time, the day he met her, or the same like all those occasions when she offered a smile out of her soul, sweet and genuine, devoted solely to him.
Think about it made him have contradictory feelings; he was filled with warmth linked to her, a product of imagining her face and the many features of it, that made her so unique in his eyes, stimulating his mind and senses, relieving him… But now there was a constant stabbing pain in his chest, making his hands shake, and he knew it was due to the moving image in his mind, in which she was expressing her pain and showing in her face by his fault.
He clenched his jaw and fists, his eyes burning for the courage he felt for himself.
When he met her, why didn't he think about the consequences?
Even if he didn't want (a thought now horrible), he should have considered that it would be painful and devastating to know what moved him to unite them. He had to admit that, in her place, he would have felt used and ridiculed, as he experienced as a child when his mother used him for her own desires, saying it was an innocent game.
His mother had justified the wrong behavior, as he did, and had not thought about what would cause with it. Why didn't he come up with that at the beginning?
Now he understood his mother… How would he have thought of the consequences immersed in himself and what he wanted, as he was then?
Therefore, would not it be better to take into account Kotoko's wishes and let her go? Not insist on what he wanted, and allow someone else to be with her and valued her enough to prove it and make her as happy as she deserved to be, no matter what happened to him. Didn't she deserve it?
Though he wanted her back, wasn't it selfish to do so?
Should he leave her free?
Perhaps it was the best to do; she, having him around, suffered, and he could not take away the pain he had seen in her… his way of being didn't make him capable and in the future, he would probably make her suffer more with his personality.
What could he say or do that it was good and enough for her, regretting what he had done? None of his words would really work. His intention hadn't been to damage her or make her unhappy… and he had done so.
He loved her… but he was the source of her suffering, his actions had caused her current state…
Maybe the most appropriate thing to do was to ask forgiveness and not hold her, let someone repair her soul and win that pure and precious heart that he failed to cherish.
Yet the thought of hurting her and let her go… definitely lose her… That thought brought a lump to his throat and an excruciating pain to his chest that doubled him up with his eyes closed.
And that made room to deep despair and suffering in the depths of his soul. The emotions that his mind had been holding fell on him like a storm and a hand wringing his heart.
He felt his eyes filled with a burning fire and his body shivered helplessly in light tremors that shook him completely.
Then, to his eyes came a watery trail, which licked his eyelashes, and a tear fell on his cheek, giving way to a torrent more. In the solitude of his soul, his emotions won and he cried of impotence, anger, disappointment, knockdown, pain, regret.
Above all, he cried to let go of everything that consumed him inside.
He heard himself sobbing in the dark and empty room, immersed in conflict with himself and the storm in his being. He could not control it, he felt unable to stop. His heart was taking over his mind and he wanted to get all off his chest and to let pour out his suffering, in the form of salty tears that ran down his cheeks and sobs that he could not silence… in the liberation that he began to feel like light in the dark.
Amid all this, he learned that to let go was the hardest thing he had done. He was opening the door himself and breaking his own shell, witnessing his own downfall and his own release, to the containment and the weakness; he was opening to what made him fully human, like the others, with his mistakes and blindness, releasing a part of him, that he had kept in control for so long, and all those feelings that enveloped him in his worst moment.
At what point was he lost and became so clueless? At what point did he start building up that many loads and barriers? At what point did he block and stop experiencing?
And at what point did contain a lot meant the best?
He rested his head in his hands and let the tension of his body leave, to be drained of what he felt that overcame him, to stop holding and breathe… and, at least, to do something to soothe the pain and… and…
He covered his eyes with his fingers, finally giving a deep breathing, which came as a breath of something fresh and new.
He felt his shoulders weighed less, that his hands were stronger, that his body gained energy, that in his mind lifted the veil covering it; that he was more self-possessed than in recent days.
Therefore, it was time to move on.
[…]
Naoki discovered the healing property of tears after his body had quieted completely, and the next day his usual composure had returned, but he felt regenerated inside, aware that internally he wasn't the same as before, beyond his changes in recent months.
It made a big difference to empty and express, without saving everything, at least to himself.
He was aware of the reserve of his personality, which he tended to show to the world, even unconsciously; but also, at least a little and for those closest to him, he could make exceptions that didn't disturb him too much.
He knew that with Kotoko it would be essential, if he got a chance with her.
No, when he got a chance. He was not going to let go the most important thing in his life, because he knew he had ruined it, but he loved her and was going to do what it took to get her love back. Even if it meant begging—in his way, or really do it, though he expected not to at the end.
This time he had to do things the right way and open himself to her, getting her back would depend on it. He had to fight to get her back; he simply could not imagine living without her.
He was already over his moment of self-pity, of suffering for his mistakes and her rejection, so it was time to plan and use all his strength and skills to have her on his side.
He respected her decision, but the hope that a part of her still loved him, moved him to try and to fight. She was so genuine and had a big heart, so he kept faith that a tiny particle of her kept her love alive, and that served him.
Only when he was sure that she did not care or want anything with him, he would stop…
He would think about it now, he must remember and catch her optimism; he would cross that bridge if it came to it, just then.
Moreover, he knew Kotoko still loved him, because it wouldn't have been so painful for her if she didn't. As it affected him deeply, it must have been the same for her.
Naoki allowed himself a smile looking at the doll on the bookshelf. He had to pick up the pieces left by his mistake and amend it would be a slow process, but worth it.
The happy expression of the small Kotoko was as a vote of security and confidence.
Ironic, he thought it was convenient not having found, nor sought, a very good excuse for not putting the doll in his room.
Stupid ex-classmates had not been so wrong by giving it to him after the exams.
He sighed thinking of exams; just five days left to deal with Kotoko. This time he would respect her request and once her test was over, he'd approach her. It would be enough time to calm and to plan how he would talk to her.
What to say? How to say it? Under what circumstances?
He'd get his answer in those days; he was sure.
[…]
His father looked really focused on the newspaper and Naoki had the opportunity to observe furtively at Kotoko, who breakfasted in silence, repeating the signs that seemed root on her mind (once he reflected, he understood that the recent discharge of his father and his conversation with his mother had affected her in the test). She had come out of her cave after several days locked—he didn't want to think very thoroughly why—, so he had the opportunity to finally see her.
Although she did not know, he knew she would not really notice his scrutiny, because many times he had watched discreetly, without her noticing. The task was easier; he had the ability that his face and intentions did not seem very clear while looking at him, and a good memory that helped his surreptitious glances.
This time it was a little difficult to look at her, though. He could recognize the sadness within himself for being the cause of her off attitude, not like her, though she could pretend quite well if his father looked at her—fortunately, his mother was not there.
If he didn't know that there was another reason to be so, he could also be fooled that her current mood and tired appearance was due to her constant study, than to anything else. He knew she gave much importance to the latter, but was aware that the other thing could have weight too.
Thoughtfully, he kept eating the dorayakis he had made, enduring the sweet, and continued to wait patiently for her test to pass, to take action.
Right now, he wanted to hold her hand and take her to a place where they were alone and he could speak honestly with her; he wanted to embrace her and be able to breathe with the peace that she gave him; also, it would mean that she was his completely.
But he had to wait; and although he wasn't impatient, at that moment he felt the anxiety of the unknown and the pressure of the running clock, which was slow enough to hit a nerve at some point, if he were only focused on waiting and not have his mind on what you do.
"I'm going," said his father, leaving them alone after doubling the newspaper.
Both he and Kotoko nodded, silent.
"Don't stress a lot, Kotoko-chan, you'll do well," added his father, smiling at her, who curled her mouth slightly, before eating, faster than before.
Surely to quickly leave the table.
His father put on his jacket, which now seemed some sizes bigger, and left the room, whistling happily, happier than Naoki could feel at the moment.
He realized, when he heard the sound of the door, Kotoko hurried to finish her breakfast (an achievement for him, having trapped her with her favorite dish), without even looking at it. So she could left.
He would be stubborn (and foolish), but he was genuinely concerned for her, her fatigue of the reclusion, and her results. "Do you want me to evaluate you?" He tried out in a neutral tone, just to hear her speak in his direction and demonstrate a white flag in the other matter, truly interested in her test.
She lowered her head and he gritted his teeth when he saw her squeeze the fork. He breathed in; he knew it'd not be easy.
"For your exam, Kotoko. Just that," he said in measured tones, to convince her and to help her, to at least spend a single moment in her company, for her sake.
It was like having reversed roles, but he didn't need to think about it now.
"I want you to pass, because I know how important it is for you."
Kotoko cleared her throat as he felt his breathing stop for a moment.
"I…"
"You can deny you if you want," he offered, reminding accurately of his past failures, to not push her or give het the impression that he'd impose his will.
Although it infuriated him have been able to achieve that serious damage and influence on her. Once he thought her ways were nuisance and ridiculous and now he missed her in that way… especially because in the end, it didn't turn out to be terrible, and she ended up being to his liking, to the point of being content with the aspects involving her personality.
It was so contradictory the things achieved by his great plan.
"I'll do in on my own," she whispered, standing up with her plate to get into the kitchen.
Listening to the water running in the next room, he exhaled, resting his elbows on the table, without reproach to her rejection, thinking of those countless times he offered negatives to her advances and those when she wished his closeness.
It was like a door slamming on the face, especially when his intentions were good.
Definitely, it served to give him a taste of his own medicine, and he could not convince himself that she did it in order to harm him or for disinterest on him; she did it for herself.
A sudden thought made him consider if he had made her cold like him, but a glance at her crestfallen departure forced him to dismiss it. Hers was self-protection, different from his, and he couldn't blame her.
He wouldn't forgive himself if he had changed her in a stony-faced—even hurtful—person, like him. Although it was also impossible to do so; she was much warmer and truly noble… besides… Kotoko had expressed what she felt and not kept it within her and had a better connection with her emotions and feelings than he had, for sure.
His hand became a fist and he rubbed his eyes, irritated and frustrated; he settled into his chair and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling, emitting audible breaths, as snorts. He hated that.
He preferred she screamed at him and blurted out many things, because indifference was a thousand times worse… he already knew how it affected.
In addition, it would be worse if he reviewed carefully each of his actions.
(Neither would he suffer, as it wouldn't serve for his cause.)
A chill on the side of his neck made him tilt his head toward the entrance of the dining room; he felt watched, but it must have been his imagination, because there was no one and the only ones left at home were known by their inability to be silent when walking.
He sighed; he'd have given anything in exchange if he had turned to see her there.
And it was impossible, as things wouldn't be easy.
This time, they wouldn't.
AN: I had some problems to translate this chapter, he,he. Mostly, because even in Spanish this was hard to write.