Ruki questions the course of her adulthood, and learns that growing up doesn't have to mean growing apart.

Junctures

Chapter II
"Feuds and Far Between"

That night, thanks to Rumiko's well-intended 'surprise', Ruki found herself somewhere she hadn't thought she would see again past her formative years shadowing her mother. The contemporary chandeliers and unpronounceable menu items weren't really her thing—she was more of local pub kinda gal—but her husband, sharing an affinity for the ritz and glitz with his extravagant mother-in-law, welcomed the gift.

"'Nother one, please. On the rocks."

Except for the generous liquor tab that Rumiko had opened for them, knowing full well which one of them would be taking advantage.

"Ruki," he scolded, "That'll be your third one. No one's even arrived yet!"

"Hey, if tonight's gonna be a mess, I may as well be drunk for it," she drawled.

Her hair seemed redder than usual tonight, though he couldn't confirm whether that was because it was against the dark blue of her dress or because she was on edge. Ryo sighed, undoing the cuff buttons on his dress shirt to roll up the sleeves. He was happy with just the one glass of wine but he was suddenly in the mood for another; something told him it was going to be a long night.

"Surely some of my optimism has rubbed off on you by now…"

The waitress returned to their table with a bottle of her favourite single malt, artfully pouring it into her glass. Ruki flashed her a courteous smile before she turned to him with a smirk. "Nope."

Ryo couldn't fight the urge to grin back. He wouldn't prefer her any other way.

"You guys!"

A beaming Takato and Juri weaved out from the neighbouring tables. Ryo and Ruki stood to welcome them, and they exchanged greetings and birthday wishes with warm hugs and well wishes, a particularly long and tight embrace between the girls.

"I've missed you, honey."

Ruki, eyes closed and relishing in the warmth, responded with a caress of Juri's chestnut hair. "Me too."

She then noticed something peculiar. Ruki pulled away, still keeping a hold on her best friend's hands, and looked down to discover the slight swell of Juri's stomach.

"You're… pregnant."

Juri giggled and looked to Takato, delightfully nodding his go-ahead. "Yeap! Three months."

"Wow!" Ryo chirped. "Congratulations, you guys!" He patted his buddy on the back, and as he tossed in the usual questions about due dates and potential baby names, Ruki rapidly felt her hands becoming hot. They sweltered, mirroring the sensation in her chest, as the gentle hands in her grasp suddenly felt prickly. Like they didn't fit.

"…Why didn't you tell me?"

Their smiles disappeared and Juri, at a loss for words, could only manage a timid shrug. Ruki released Juri's hands and returned to her seat, the others trailing behind her. Smooth jazz piano and background chatter filled in blank spaces. Some throat-clearing. Apologetic smiles exchanged.

Ruki guzzled the rest of her scotch, and immediately gestured to the waitress for another one through a grimace. Her throat burned, but she was starting not to feel it.

She wondered how many more it'd take for her to not feel anything.

"Ruki…" Ryo cautioned.

"What?" He signalled her to say something—anything—to Juri. Apologising would've been ideal, though Ryo didn't count on his luck being that good the first try. "I'm just saying, she told me when she was pregnant with Erika. I don't understand why this one would be such a big goddamn secret."

"I'm sorry, Juri, Ruki's just been a bit edgy about turning thirty and everything…"

"Stop fucking telling people how I feel, you wouldn't know anything about how I'm feeling—"

"—These are your best friends, it's not—"

Ruki cut in, "Well now I don't know anymore, do I?"

Juri took a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. She was taught to always take the high road. And, God, Ruki gave her a lot of opportunities to practise. "Don't apologise," Juri assured, stopping the two mid squabble. "I should've told you. It's been kind of hectic, you know? I guess it just slipped my mind or something."

A sheepish smile followed, as did the clank of Ruki's glass on the table after taking another swig.

"Slipped your mind?" Wide incredulous eyes pointed Juri's way. "Right. There's a foetus just casually growing in my uterus, but sometimes I forget! Silly me!" She mocked, her voice raising in pitch to emulate the other woman.

Takato cut in to plead pitifully, "Ladies, c'mon—"

"Shut up, Takato," she snapped, audibly beginning to slur.

"I think you've had enough now." Juri snatched the glass from Ruki's grip to her protest. She wasn't the eccentric teenager wearing those stripy knee-high socks anymore and she was far past the age of being pushed around. Juri put on her best angry face. "You can have your drink back when you're done being a bitch."

Takato and Ryo could only alternate between nervous and frustrated glances as their wives withheld any further communication from each other. Ryo sensed that there was more going on than Ruki let on; something about her was almost… vulnerable. Right now though, he found a hard time sympathising with her all the same. His kudos went to Juri; she, better than all of them, could keep the redhead in line when even he couldn't.

"What's with the grim faces?"

They turned in their chairs to the source of the voice and—saved by the bell—it was Henry providing a welcome distraction with his arrival.

Henry made his way over to the table, at a slower pace to match the energy that he didn't quite have. Even as they piped their greetings, trying to inject a little more cheer than usual, under the expensive charcoal suit he donned it was still hard to ignore his unkempt hair and pale complexion.

"Henry, you…" He shot an inquisitive look to the substantially tipsy Ruki. "…look like shit," she slurred.

"Ruki!" Ryo cried, thoroughly facepalming, "I'm so sorry, she's had a bit to drink."

Despite Ruki's dubious methods and her rowdy protests to the accusation, in silent agreement they turned to him with their concerns clearly etched on their faces. Henry appeared gaunt and coarsely unshaven—a shadow of the prim and well-groomed man he was known to be—and his dark eye bags and sluggish movement telling of his sleepless nights.

Henry only contributed a feeble smile in response, probably in pitiful agreement.

When he sat, Ryo placed a reassuring hand on Henry's arm. "Hey, we're sorry about what happened with Alice."

"Thanks, guys," he said, glassy eyes not meeting theirs. Uneasy glances went around the table once more, and the air died into an uncomfortable silence.

"I, am, so sorry too," Ruki interjected, her words elongated. "But you know I had a feeling, I just knew Alice would leave you too—"

"—Jesus, Ruki,"

"Exactly how many have you had, Ruki?" Henry asked, unable to even express his disapproval (everything had a melancholy tinge to it nowadays). Sometimes, he'd find that he barely recognised himself in his own mirror. A thought at the back of his mind—perhaps his, perhaps the demons that haunted him—would suggest that maybe it was fitting that he be punished in this way. That maybe his situation was karma for stealing his best friend's girlfriend all those years ago.

He hadn't meant to. It was a complete lapse in judgement that just happened to lead to one thing and then another… Of course, Hirokazu didn't buy that. Punches were thrown alongside curses. A lot of yelling, some tears. But in the end the two became tired of fighting. They were never great at being at odds with each other, and though hard feelings still lingered, they almost resolved to put it behind them.

Until Alice found out she was pregnant.

Henry looked around the room as his friends dwelled in varying degrees of second hand embarrassment, attempting to tame the redhead in their own way. Even classy places like this had to deal with their fair share of drunken idiots, he thought. He sneered at the perfectly arranged centrepieces and at the elegant sommeliers standing by each table rearing and ready with seasonal foreign wines in hand. Henry was sure that Ruki hated places like this—she clearly wasn't comfortable here. Alice said that Rumiko's persistent imposing of her world on Ruki was damaging, or something like that. She always was so observant.

Henry caught himself off guard with that train of thought.

It's hard to breathe in here.

Ruki reached for her previously confiscated drink before Ryo took her arm to stop her, "Gimme it!"

"Babe, I think you've had more than enough."

"Let go of me, asshole, I'm fine!"

"Ru—"

Henry brusquely stood up, weak posture steadied by his hands on the table as he spoke. "Look, I don't know about you guys, but I came tonight to have a good time with my friends and just… try and forget about everything that's been going on."

"Henry—"

"So I'm leaving," he said curtly.

He shuffled to leave, quietly apologising to the sober three and intentionally avoiding Ruki's unfocused, bloodshot gaze.

"The fuck are you going!?" she yelled at his back. Nearby patrons began to gawk and whisper, and his steps sped up as much as he could manage. He needed to get out of there.

As Henry made his way to the elevator, Ruki's loud and slurring voice began to fade into the background. He shook his head in disbelief at the way the night had unfolded. How could she say that to him? Though he knew he wasn't great company right now, the next time he drove 45 minutes into the city, it wouldn't be for this shit.

And today of all days. Just when Alice had dropped a mother of a bombshell on him, that she would be moving permanently, with their son, to Ireland. To goddamn Ireland! A horrible knot formed in the pit of his stomach, and his collar began to feel like it was choking him again. He reached up to loosen his tie, panting a little.

Think of something—anything—else.

With a ding, the elevator door opened. He mentally mapped out his journey home and fantasised about the bottle of wine that awaited him. That would have to be his dinner tonight. It wouldn't be the first time.

Instead, he's stopped in his tracks by a familiar, and rather unwelcoming, face—that very one he'd been running from for nearly a decade.

Hirokazu, equally as stunned, could barely even hear Henry exhale his name. He'd rehearsed this encounter for the last several, excruciating hours. He fantasised about just showing up drunk and giving him a piece of his mind—how he was a coward, a hypocrite, a shitty friend and an all-around rotten human being for sleeping with his girl behind his back, then getting her pregnant and marrying her of all things. That he couldn't believe that the others could even look him in the eye after such an unforgiveable fuck up, that he knew they wouldn't offer him the same treatment if he'd done the same. Henry was the golden child, the fucking golden child, after all.

Eight years ago, he had hit him square in the face. This time though, despite the familiar blood boiling, the clenched fists, Kazu was ready to handle it like a grown up… Mostly anyway.

The doors slid closed. Kazu cleared his throat. "Hey."

Henry, still in disbelief, could only stare.

"I heard about Alice," he continued, still not receiving a response. "You could at least say something, asshole. I'm tryna be polite here. I just wanna say that—"

"And to think," Henry finally said, interrupting him completely, "that this night could not get any worse."

His eyes left Kazu's face as his frame brushed passed him and into the staircase nearby.

"…—I'm sorry to hear it," he finished, Henry no longer in earshot.

To be continued