Ruki questions the course of her adulthood, and learns that growing up doesn't have to mean growing apart.
Junctures
Chapter III
"Making Up Is Hard To Do"
Ruki so much as dragged herself toward the kitchenette, head pounding as she followed the sound of sizzling and the smell of salmon and steaming miso.
"Morning, pumpkin."
"…Mm," was the only thing her pulsing headache would allow her to say. "Time?" she asked, the word coming out much more like a groan.
"About eleven," he replied, flipping the salmon onto its other side.
"Okay." Make some conversation, Makino. Hunching over the toilet bowl can't have been the only thing you did last night. "So… Weird night."
"Yeap. Breakfast's nearly done."
His words were cool, too much so. "You're mad at me."
He didn't take his eyes off the salmon. "I am."
She let the sizzling sound drown out her attempt at remorse. It was too early, and the hangover was not letting her thoughts get a word in. She sat and put her aching head down, exhibiting herself as a heap of arms and auburn tresses sprawled out over the dining table.
"Do you even remember what happened last night?"
"…Not really," she said, voice muffled under her hair and arms. "Was it a disaster?"
"No, it wasn't too bad." Ruki looked up, a little surprised. "I mean, at first it was a catastrophe—no thanks to you, of course—but even after Henry left, Kazu got to reconnect with Takato and Juri. So we salvaged it, it's all good." He winked and she rolled her eyes with the little strength she had left in her body. "It was nice, you know. You, on the other hand, not so nice."
"Alright, I get it," she mumbled. Ryo finished at the kitchenette and came to sit at the table with their breakfast—salmon, rice, miso soup and the odd boiled egg to share between the two of them. They said their mealtime rituals before digging in to eat. Ruki then quietly spoke up as she picked at her salmon after the first bite, not totally sure her hangover allowed for an appetite at that point.
"I could've handled that better," she admitted.
"You really could've."
She acknowledged the extra pieces of pickled radish on her plate. He knew she liked them. Even while he was mad at her.
"I'm sorry," she finally said. He caught her eyes wandering off, a touch of gloom accompanying them. "I'll call and apologise… As soon as I don't feel like throwing up."
"Look, it's okay… I mean you may have to beg a little from Juri and Henry," he joked, and Ruki startlingly reciprocated with a small, amused smile. "…But I think they'd understand." He took a bite, chewed, and carefully considered his next words before speaking up again. "Are you sure this wasn't about what you said yesterday? About being… unaccomplished."
The sad eyes returned and Ryo waited patiently for an explanation. He wasn't wrong, after all. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him how she felt like she'd achieved exactly nothing that she had planned to since leaving college, how Kenta was off saving lives somewhere and all everyone could focus on was her biological ticking time bomb—how she wasn't even sure whether she or Ryo even wanted kids and whether she wanted to see their reaction to that at all. All the words swirled around in her head but the only thing that came out was a sigh.
And again, no elaboration. He shook his head. "I wish you'd talk to me," he mumbled. When all he received was a glare, he dutifully changed the subject. Perhaps what she needed was her mind off things.
"You know you put on quite the performance last night."
She looked up at him curiously, until the memory—however foggy—suddenly dawned on her. "We went to karaoke?"
"You were dying to sing 'Blue Light Yokohama'. We were almost home and you made us turn the cab around. Cabbie got a free preview too."
"Oh God…" A hand flew to her face, completely embarrassed. "Wait, Blue Light Yokohama? I haven't sung that at karaoke since…"
"—your twenty-fifth!" "—my twenty-fifth!"
Their eyes met as they chorused in unison, and they couldn't help a smile thinking back to that night. In her early twenties, she'd purposely get trashed only because Ryo couldn't resist an opportunity to be the hero and babysit her—it was her principal method of flirting after all, Ruki wasn't one to bat her eyelashes—but the habit ended up sticking around even well after they started dating.
That night was no exception; Ryo had missed his overnight train back to Fukuoka to take care of his very drunk, very cranky then-long-distance girlfriend. But it was on his way to the train station the next morning, with a battered and exhausted redhead nestled against his torso, that he had decided to move to Tokyo.
It had been too many Sunday nights leaving her. Too many Sunday nights where Ruki's eyes would beg him to stay, but she'd kiss him goodbye anyway. He hated seeing her grow smaller on the platform where she watched his train speed away, until the morning after she turned twenty-five when she made a fist in his shirt and, for the first time, whispered those three little words so quietly he thought he'd mistaken what he'd heard. He never ended up making it onto that train.
Never mind that it was just another brash, cavalier thing he'd do to impress her but would end up becoming a logistical nightmare for him later.
Ruki groaned again, holding her throbbing head with her half-eaten breakfast effectively abandoned. Was getting wasted always this lousy? Ruki made the obligatory note-to-self to 'never drink again' before reminding herself to go for her annual health check. If this wasn't a sign of her age catching up to her, she didn't know what was.
She made her resolve and grabbed her phone to locate Henry's name in her contact list. She hit the call button, and ran through several scenarios in her head while her heart drummed in apprehension; neither talking on the phone nor apologising were exactly her forte.
The other line had rung but there was no answer. Frowning, though admittedly a little relieved, she tried again to no avail.
"Who you calling?"
"Henry, but he's not picking up. I'll just text him…"
"Babe, you can't just text him after what you said last night."
"Was it that bad?"
"You practically told him that it wasn't a shock that Alice left." Yikes. "And that was after you told him he looked like shit. Exact words." Double yikes.
Alright, so Ruki had had some feelings about their separation, and their marriage in the first place, though none that she would ever dream of disclosing to Henry… In her right mind, anyway.
Guess he really didn't want to speak to her. She'd call later, she decided. For now, she hoped that vaguely pointing to her open mouth would send a clear enough message to Ryo that she needed another glass of water, desperately. He complied, but not without making a bargain.
She made a move to take the cup of water until he abruptly swung it away from her clamouring hands, just enough to be out of reach.
"Promise me you'll call him again and apologise properly."
"Yes, I know. I will."
His voice softened considerably. "And that—when you're ready—you'll tell me what's going on."
"…There's nothing to…"
"No secrets, remember?"
She sighed, remembering their pact.
"No secrets."
He placed a lingering kiss on her hair before the cup into her waiting hands. "Good."
Standing in the veggie aisle, Ruki checked her phone again for any new missed calls, her shopping basket hooked over her arm. It was late afternoon, and by now she had left Henry several voice messages that he still hadn't returned.
"D'you think three onions is enough?" Ruki, still absorbed into her phone, didn't respond. "Babe."
"Huh?" She looked to Ryo, then to the small bag of onions in his hand. "Uh, yeah. Three, whatever."
He placed them in the basket. "Still not picking up, huh?"
She shook her head. He'd never been this mad at her before. She had spoken to Takato and Juri earlier, the former more than happy to forgive her whilst the latter insisted that they meet for coffee later in the week to talk. She then took the chance to properly congratulate them on the pregnancy, somewhat glad they couldn't see her blush over the phone because she really was so happy for them.
Ruki sighed and tucked the phone back in her jeans pocket, the item feeling heavy on her hip as it did on her mind, then repeated to herself for the umpteenth time that she'd try again later.
They went on to inspect the tomatoes, each perfectly red and not a blemish in sight. "These would be good in an omelette…" Ryo mused. He put several in the basket. "You know, I wonder if Henry's eating well."
Broken out of her reverie, she began to recall bits and pieces of a thinner frame and paler skin. A wry smile appeared. "He never was good at moving on."
He picked up an eggplant, examining it closely. "Why don't we make him dinner and bring it to his house? He can't refuse us on his doorstep, right?"
Ruki gaped at him. "That's a bit pushy, don't you think?"
"Me? Pushy? Never. Just serious about my apologies," he said with a wink.
"Taking a fifty minute train ride to have a door shut in my face? That'd have to be a hard no from me." She swiped the large eggplant from his grip and replaced it with a handful of smaller ones. "And please, you can be plenty pushy."
He muttered, "I'm pushy? You're the one that always insists on being on top…"
"—Do you understand that we're in public right now?" she hissed, eyeing the old woman sifting through the tomatoes a little too close for comfort. She took him by the elbow to lead him toward the fruit aisle. They stopped by the lemons and she placed a tray in the basket. "And what if Henry doesn't let us in?"
A thoughtful finger landed on Ryo's chin. "Hmm, I don't think he'd do that. In fact, I think he'd probably appreciate a good meal."
He was right, of course. "Look, I want to go, I just…"
"You're afraid he'll reject your apology," he said simply.
She rolled her eyes. "No, Freud, I just don't wanna look like an idiot."
"Then—"
She hadn't finished yet. "But I know that I have to. So I'll go. It's driving me nuts that he's not answering his phone anyway. Okay? Happy?" He grinned his approval, all pearly and white, and she impishly bopped him on the head with an orange.
They made a return trip back to the vegetable aisle to pick up extras for Henry's portion before making a beeline for the cashiers. While they were waiting in line, Ruki slipped her phone out of her pocket and began composing a new message.
To: Henry Lee
Message: Hey, I'm not sure if you got my
messages but Ryo and I are coming over to
bring you dinner. We won't be taking no
for an answer.
Ruki winced as she hit 'send', expelling the breath she didn't realise was being held in.
Hope he likes omelettes.
78… 80… 82… 84.
They entered the opening at the fence, following the path of rectangular stepping-stones that lined a bed of white pebbles, leading all the way to a gorgeous concrete slab house and a large timber door adorned with glass slats.
Ryo whistled in appreciation as they drew closer, their eyes darting everywhere from one end of the house to the other. "This place is just as impressive as I remember."
Arriving at the doorstep, Ruki took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.
When there was no answer, they rang it again, knocking on the door while they did.
Nothing. "…He's not home."
"Okay, so I may not have thought this through…" Sheepishly he rubbed the back of his head, unsure of their next move. A look that says 'ya think?' was shot toward his direction, but nothing was said.
Ruki crossed her arms. "Well, it's better than getting a door shut in my face."
Ryo turned to her in absolute shock. "Is that optimism I hear?"
She smirked. "Don't get used to it."
The taller brunette, who was thought to possess the soul of a nosey middle-aged aunty on occasion, began peeking into the glass slats. Inexplicably, Ruki felt inclined to join him.
The sky outside was dimming into twilight hues of pink and orange, but none of the lights in the house were on.
She pushed down on the handle and the door clicked open.
"Ruki, what the hell are you—"
"—Shh. Something doesn't feel right."
A low 'and she says I'm pushy' was muttered before they cautiously entered the house. Removing their shoes, they stepped onto the polished floorboards and slowly made their way into the living room. Spacious, high ceilings. Dark but tastefully decorated. A sombre shadow cast by the walls littered with happy family photos.
Slowly creeping into the kitchen, they spotted a bowl of uneaten, wilting fruit sitting on the stone countertop. A kettle on the stove.
Then broken glass scattered along the floor.
"…Oh my God."
"Henry!"
A thud was heard as the lunchbox hit the floor, and immediately they rushed to the unmistakeably unconscious body face down on the kitchen floor.
Their frantic attempts to rouse him were to no success. His eyes were rolled back, his pulse shallow and intermittent, mussed hair stained with a hint of blood. Ruki desperately punched in the number for an ambulance, praying for a fast response.
"Henry! God, Henry…"
She remained on the phone to the emergency services as Ryo clung fiercely to his body, fingers to his neck to monitor the waning pulse. His own breathing grew shallower by the minute. He couldn't bare if he—…
"Don't worry, Henry," Ruki's quivering voice assured, "we've got help coming for you. Just hang on…"
"Please, just a little longer…"
To be continued