Unsaid

"Let's break up."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Really? That's the best you can do?"

"Ryuji!" She shouted and poked him in the ribs. Ryuji twisted and contorted in an undesirable fashion as he tried to suppress his laughter. They sat in her bed after having lunch. Plastic bowls of ramen noodles sat at the foot of her bed and Ann made a mental note to clean up thoroughly after Ryuji left. She was always a little less tidy when he was around.

She threw herself into the many pillows on her bed and Ryuji made his way to the door. "You gotta do better than that, Ann." She looked up at him and then away.

"I can't do it. I can't say it to him."

"You've said it to me a bunch, just now!" He exclaimed. He was mildly offended.

"It's different. What if he doesn't understand me? Or what if he'll be upset, or -"

Ryuji walked over to Ann's bed and sat down beside her. His ran his fingers through his blonde hair and then sighed. He looked at Ann as she stared out the window. He knew she turned away because she could no longer hold in her tears. Here he was, helping his best friend practice breaking up with his other best friend; but he loved Ann, and when she confided in him and asked for his help he could not muster up no. The word did not exist.

He tapped her shoulder and she didn't face him. He then climbed onto the bed and crawled over to her line of vision. He was right. Blue eyes filled with such hurt he felt he could cry as well. He crossed his legs over each other and held her face. "Again," he said in a low voice.

"I can't," She sobbed. Her nose began to run and he pressed his forehead to hers. He didn't care that it would hurt Akira. He didn't care that he had become a traitor to his friend and even his own love for her; Ann wanted to go to New York to be somebody and nothing - not even his love for her - would stop him from helping to make her dreams come true. "I can't do it!"

"You can tell me. Go on, say it to me." He closed his eyes and spoke to her, not as a practice Akira, but as himself; truly himself.

"I love you," She closed her eyes and tried to imagine Akira. She tried to finish her sentence, but struggled to make words come out, "but I – I can't do it, Ryuji…"

"Do what?"

"This. I can't do it to him."

"Say it." He needed it for himself.

She cried more and they stayed forehead to forehead for a time they could not measure. Ann placed her hands on Ryuji's and removed them from their place on her cheeks. She held Ryuji's hands in her own; he felt the drops of her tears on his skin. She lowered her head, sinking in the misery of the hardest decision she was not able to make.

"Let's break up."

Lana looked at Ryuji from the other end of the sofa. She stared at him long and hard. Her lips quivered as she tried to speak, "Wha – what?"

Ryuji's gaze did not change. He looked at the television and did not blink. Everything about him seemed frozen in time. The only movement he made was that of his lips. He repeated his earlier statement.

"Let's break up."

The lounge was dimly lit. Smooth jazz played and young women ordered drinks from the bar. A man walked over and took a seat with the group of young women. They enjoyed his company and when two of them stepped away the man moved his seat closer to the solo girl. They stared at each other, an indescribable haze in their eyes. Makoto moved her seat over from the two once they began kissing. She should have gone home to study. She should have turned her phone on. She should have been with Sae, but instead, she wanted to be in the dimly lit lounge to drink her problems away. It was not the best idea, but it wasn't the worst, yet.

She ordered a whiskey soda and drank it too quickly. After her second in the same fifteen minutes, the bartender suggested she eat. When she refused he served her French fries on the house. An hour later - and on Makoto's third drink - the couple had left the bar. Perhaps it was her time to go too. She stood up but found she felt a bit too unstable. She regretted wearing heels that day. Why didn't she just stick to her to riding boots like always? She scolded herself mentally, multiple times. As she sat back down she saw a familiar brunette approach the bar. He ordered a beer and she was sure it was him, "Ryuji?" She called. He turned his head and noticed Makoto at the end of the counter. After the bartender served his drink, he grabbed it and moved over some seats to sit beside her.

"Hey. What are you doing here?" Ryuji inquired.

Makoto held up her drink, "What does it look like?" Ryuji laughed a bit at his own silly question. Makoto smiled since it had been a while since she saw him display anything that looked like joy.

"That was a pretty silly question, I guess." He took a swig of his beer and grabbed a French fry from her plate.

"Hey!" She called out, feigning distress. There was a curve at the corner of her lips. Ryuji ate more of her fries and Makoto eventually joined in. Once the fries vanished from the plate he ordered a second beer and insisted Makoto have water. He then repeated his silly question, though it was less silly the second time around.

"Well," Makoto ran her finger on the side of her glass of water. She looked at the water, feeling shame from drinking so much and it being obvious, "I'm just really stressed out with my sister, the baby, studying..."

"Is that it?" Ryuji asked.

"No." She looked away.

"I won't ask again. I – I know." He said and took another sip of his beverage.

"How'd you –"

"You look like…well, you look like me." He said to her. Makoto stared into Ryuji's brown eyes and took him seriously for a moment. He was indeed handsome. A bit unkempt; light scruff from not shaving for a few days. He appeared rugged, but had a tenderness in his words; always sincere. She looked away from him as she felt her cheeks burning from blushing.

She found him attractive. Perhaps it was the liquor or the dim lights of the place, but her body burned with a desire to have him. She scolded herself multiple times, but each time their eyes met, he appeared more and more desirable to her. Ryuji placed his beer bottle to his lips and she watched as he swallowed. Though his Adam's apple was not as prominent as Akira's, Ryuji was nothing short of appealing.

She blamed the alcohol. She blamed it for the unwise decision she was ready to make. As Ryuji placed the beer bottle back to the counter he turned his head and felt warm lips press against his own. He opened his mouth to allow her dominate tongue entry to his own. Her arms wrapped around his neck. He pulled her so close she almost tipped out of her chair. They both moaned deeply as their tongues danced. The bartender headed to the opposite end of the counter to allow them privacy. When they parted, Ryuji touched her face. He sent his thumb over her lips and felt just how soft they were. He wondered if Ann's lips felt that way, but then he thought to himself why wonder? Makoto was there before him, interested; why think on someone as far away as Ann? He kissed her again and made up his mind that breaking up with Lana was a clever idea. He would not pretend anymore. He would just do.

They stumbled into his apartment, still with their lips pressed against each other heavily. They parted few times. They only drew away from each other to shed garments. He was glad Makoto wore a dress because it came off with the pull of one zipper. She was excited by his well-toned arms and chest and wondered why she did not take notice of him before. She was impressed by his legs, which were lean and powerful. Being a runner gave him the body of Adonis, and she didn't mind at all. It was easy to forget Akira then. It was easy to only see Ryuji. His package was quite the display as well.

He was strong, but gentle when their they touched skin. He laid her on his bed; kissed her collarbone and the valley between her breasts. She was thrilled when he kissed between her thighs voluntarily. She never imagined someone like Ryuji to choose the task of giving oral stimulation, but that night she learned how he much liked it; that controlling someone's pleasure on that scale was a power play and he dominated.

She cried out in ecstasy and wondered if she was close to having her first orgasm. Sure, she had sex numerous times - with short term boyfriends - but never climaxed. She did not think, Ryuji would be the one to give it to her – the one to give her the best sex of her life.

When he was inside her, she felt she died and came back to life. There was no other way to describe her complete bliss.

Morning crept in through the blinds of Ryuji's small apartment. His clothes were scattered across the floor and Makoto's dress lay in a neat pile by the foot of the bed. He opened his eyes to see his own ceiling for the first in a long time. As she observed his space, he noted a full head of russet locks laying on his chest. He took a moment to recall the previous evening; breaking up with Lana and seeing Makoto in the bar after. He groaned a bit when he thought to how the night ended. Though he had a thoroughly good time, he wondered if he made a mistake. Makoto – first and foremost – was his friend. By having sex with her, he changed that. He chose to heal his wounds with her body – and potentially lost someone he admired and respected. He ran his fingers through her hair and she made more small noises, that indicated she was not quite awake. He sighed and thought, perhaps, if he went back to bed the thoughts that consumed him would go away. The ones that told him, 'You're the worst'.

Room service reminded her just how far she had come. She ate breakfast while her hair was being styled. But it wasn't the overpriced beauty treatment and expensive clothing that made Ann feel the weight of her success. It was the food. It was eating crepes for breakfast every day. It was cake; all desserts; sweet solace. The different meals she experienced warmed her heart and brought her back to the first time she had a plate of curry at Leblanc.

It also made her think of the first time he made curry for her.

She bit into a savory crepe and held the spoon in her mouth. Once again, she thought of Akira. Michael sat on the sofa of the living area for the suite. The days after meeting Akira at Leblanc seemed – off. Ann returned to the hotel in tears. She showered and retreated to bed without talking to him. When he tried to cuddle her, she moved away. Sometimes – he caught her with tears in her eyes. Though he wouldn't say anything to her, he planned a trip to Leblanc to speak to Akira himself. He would find out what exactly happened when he left her there.

Akira washed the dishes from his morning regulars. He turned the television off and checked his phone. That morning he texted Haru telling her he'd be stopping by for clothing. She did not answer. He began to miss breakfasts with her, and Morgana clawing at his ankles. He realized that he and his friends, weren't very much friends lately – or maybe it was sooner than that, and he chose not to recognize it.

He poured himself a cup of freshly brewed coffee. He couldn't get his mind off the other day. Ann apologized. He didn't know he wanted that. He didn't know he waited so long to hear it from her. He didn't know he still hoped her feelings for him were the same.

As their lips parted post their many kisses, tears filled her eyes. "I love you," she sniffled and Akira found that he still felt the same for her. He pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her temple. She cried against his chest and clenched his shirt. "I should have said something to you back then, and I didn't and I'm sor – " he cut her off with another kiss and they held each other. Ann left shortly thereafter. When she texted later that evening to let him know she got back to her hotel safely he deleted the message.

What a true fool he was. Getting his hopes up about her after so many years. Holding on to her when she left him. She was engaged. She was no longer his to hold onto. He wondered if she was ever his, at any time at all.

He looked up from his cup of coffee when he heard the door of the café open. Michael walked in and sat the counter. Akira focused on him. Their eyes met. Michael ordered coffee in Japanese and Akira served him. He sipped, then placed the cup back onto the saucer. The 'clink' was quite loud in the totally silent café. Michael's eyes never left Akira's. The two men held their gazes and time stood still again. Michael paid for the coffee with a large bill Akira clearly did not have change for. He looked at the bill and Michael got up from the counter and walked towards the door.

He spoke in English, "Stay away from Ann." With that, he left. Akira stood there, unmoving. He stared at the bill.

Benjamin Franklin mocked him.