{.x.o.} | Rapture's Remorse | {.o.x.}
{x| Chapter 14: Routine |x}
Life settled down a week after his remorseful return from the train station to say goodbye to his saintly savior. It was just too hard, they both accepted that. The other would be a constant reminder of one that they both loved, one they both missed, and one they both could barely live without. It was better, easier, to say goodbye, to separate from that pain, to let go. Their memories of time together wouldn't be given up but wouldn't be reminisced over too often, either.
It was just better that way…
Work, late-night raves, bombarded clubs, pushy paparazzi—punches and police proclaiming 'now, now'—a redheaded, emerald eyed party princess, and plenty of other bothersome things—along with bills, rent checks, groceries.
All mundane and so routine, so boring... work, work, work, eat, exercise, work more, jog, avoid alcohol, lift weights, work, pay bills—pay plenty.
It was hard to let go of the hope he always ignored of what he held precious, he adjusted to the anticipation that became empty. He lied to himself for so long, telling his whimsical drug hazed mind that he only incited that fog to keep from such thoughts—for a sister that was never really his blood. He had always wanted to see her again, always dreamed of her, but he never acknowledged how often he thought about it.
That was shattered, torn asunder, he'd never see her. It took time, a lot of distractions to adjust. Work and exercise was his whole life, he joined a nice gym—another bill to pay—jogged every morning and each night.
Moreover, there was always the wolf-gal to keep him busy and all her god-awful gatherings, clubs, and so much more.
[…]
It was a mere coincidence. After he left the gym he joined, Tessaiga, to walk back to his place, sleep for a while, and prep-himself for the call he'd get from Kouga to tell him where to meet-up to get Ayame and where they would be going that night. It was a bother to know that Kouga was the senior body-guard, the one that called all the shots, his 'boss', but he couldn't punch the guy—Kaguya kept warning him about that over their weekly lunches together.
By pure chance he heard a shrill, giddy voice that he knew well followed by the giggle that always rung in his head. With reluctance and an utter sigh he looked over to see Ayame walking with two big bags on her arms from her shopping trip. He was off duty, he shouldn't have given a shit that the leeches that were called paparazzi were taking photos of her but… he did hate them, so, so, much that he found himself jogging across the street to knock one of them down and his extremely expensive camera.
"Ops," he just grinned.
"Fuck! Asshole! You're paying for that!" The cockroach protested as he tried to gather up all the broken pieces.
"Hey, it's just an occupational hazard, right? You parasite," Inuyasha chuckled back before a pair of thin arms swooped around his neck.
"Inu-puppy!" did she have any idea how redundant her nickname for him was? He just sighed as he patted her on the back, "boo, thank you, let's eat!"
"Ayame-san," he hated adding suffixes but he had to, "I'd rather not."
"Nonsense, I will not take no for an answer!" She protested as she grasped his hand and tugged him to the finest restaurant she could fine. Upon waltzing in she greeted the hostess and told her that they'd seat themselves and lead Inuyasha to a peaceful, private, booth in the back.
"Waitress!" Ayame chimed as she waved her hands up in the air, "some sparkling sake for me and…?"
"Water," Inuyasha muttered.
"Sparkling—"
"Normal," he countered, "normal water, please."
"OK," the waitress smiled as she walked away.
"I'm paying so order whatever you want, they have the best food," Ayame assured as she picked up the menu to glance over the dishes that coasted almost as much as his rent.
"You drunk already, Ayame?" Inuyasha inquired with a cocked brow, he could smell wine in her breathe, too.
"No, silly," she giggled, "what were you doing out today, huh? My sexy, sexy body guard?"
"Ayame," he sighed as he set his menu down and slid it to the side, "I don't think you are as stupid as you pretend to be. I think that you're a sweet girl that just needs a little help."
"Help?" Ayame coaxed as she tapped her feet against his and smiled, "what type of help? I could think of a few things you could help me with."
"Yeah," he murmured as he tried to evade her feet, "Ayame, you've got some issues. You drink too much—"
"Psh," she waved away, "no I don't."
"Look, I'm not judging, OK?" He questioned. "I get it, I do. You're a cute girl, you're probably not stupid, I don't know why you think you need to drink but… maybe ya' don't?"
She tilted her head ever so slightly as her brows flexed together; her emerald eyes wandered up and down his figure a few times before the waitress arrived to set their drinks down and inquire about their orders, Inuyasha dismissed her for a while.
"You don't have to listen to me," Inuyasha assured.
"I…" Ayame began meekly as she sat back in the booth, "I… no one has ever said that to me…"
"I'm sorry, I guess," he shrugged, "but it's true. You've got a problem and you should see to fixing it."
"No one has… ever," she murmured as her eyes flickered away then back, "cared enough… to tell me that. Everyone just let's me…"
"Spiral downward farther and farther?"
To that Ayame nodded, "my father just pays for my body guards to make sure that I don't ruin his reputation…"
"Look," he coaxed as he leaned against the table, "I know what you are going through, I've had my fair shares of issues… and maybe you don't want to stop, you probably don't—I sure as hell didn't—but it's really a clearer world without and I guarantee you'll feel better."
"Physically or emotionally?" She asked, "because the latter is more important to me…"
"Ayame, you are as skinny as a freakin' twig, you know that right?" He questioned with a lifted brow, "and really, really pretty, you don't need to drink you don't need to…"
"To?"
"Purge yourself, either," he muttered. That got her eyes to go wide, so wide, "I figured that one out after the first few weeks. Alcoholism and purging is a terrible fucking mix, Ayame, really fucking bad."
"I…" she glanced away then back and away again. That was something she thought she kept to herself, that was something she did not know anyone could tell… she shook shakily before she scooted towards the end of the booth, removed a good amount of yen from her purse, placed it on the table and left without another word.
There went that job…
[…]
He didn't go to clubs with Ayame anymore, he didn't go to bars, he didn't go out to big parties with her either, he lost that job, and he was reassigned to another person to guard. Kaguya didn't scold him for anything, didn't mention any complaints, just reassigned him to a really quite child to transport from one prestigious home to a prominent school and back again everyday—it was a simple seven to four job, he got paid the same and didn't have to deal with any other guards.
In five months he didn't even have to see Kouga anymore, he moved away.
Around the same time he moved, too, out of the shitty little studio he could easily afford to a better part of Tokyo, to an apartment—there was actually a bedroom and a living room, two areas that a door separated what an upgrade. After he was finished, it took barely anytime since he hadn't many possessions, a bounding distraction came that wouldn't go away—what the fuck, right? How many people had he told where he moved to?
With a sigh he walked to the door and pulled it open to stop the short constant tapping to see an alluring woman leaning against the post with a broad smile, "hey, sexy."
His brow lifted up as he watched the wavy, red-haired girl waltz into his new place like she owned it, "Ayame…?"
"It's been a while, huh?" She giggled as she spun around to walk up to him as he shut the door, her hands linked behind her back, "guess where I've been."
"Do tell," he sighed as he leaned against the door.
"Rehab, thanks to you," she explained with a tilt of her head, "after you called me out on it, no one ever did that, I thought about it and was like… maybe I should check myself into a voluntary rehab and see what it's all about. Tomorrow marks my four month sobriety."
"Good job," he praised with a smile.
"What's it mark for you?"
"Almost a year."
"If you can make it to a year so can I, right?"
"Yeah, of course."
"I want to celebrate with you, tomorrow," she requested with as she took the last step that kept them apart, "will you go out to eat with me? At the same restaurant?"
"Sure, why not?"
After all, what was the worst that could happen?
[…]
Time flew by, days turned into weeks, and then a month. The month where they kissed, another few weeks and she insisted on spending the night. And how could he say no? He was not lying when he said that she was beautiful, she was, her body was killer, too. Spectacular, really, and when she shed her clothes why would he tell her 'hey, let's stop there', again? They were in his bed… they were dating, so why not?
So he went all the way to learn what a screamer she was, what a vixen, that she knew almost as many tricks as he did and she was one of the most flexible woman he had ever been with. More importantly… she was the first free women she had ever been with.
"I want to tell you something," Ayame requested with a smile, a broad, beautiful one as she twisted her bare legs with his as she traced her fingers down his chest.
"Go for it."
"I love you," she whispered as her eyes met his, "I thought about little else than you in rehab, the only one who gave a damn enough to tell me to stop, that I needed help… you're great, really great at certain things too," she smiled as she kissed his neck, "so, I don't care if this it too soon or if it scares you away, I love you."
Did he love her back? Probably not. Did he love the idea of falling for the pretty girl on top of him? Yes, yes, he did. It would end the ache he felt for the suicide brunette or the saintly somber haired girl.
But he couldn't help but feeling dirty, too, Ayame should have known what she was getting herself in… who she got into bed with.
"Ayame, I need tell you something before you go on," he requested as he pushed her away to sit up and cover up, "about… my past."
About it all, he'd confess to as much as she would listen to without throwing up and running away like he knew she would.
Yet… he got through the whole tale, from prostitution, to his drug fix, to his sister-complex, to saying goodbye to the girl on the train station.
She listened, she nodded every once and a while to prove that, she just propped herself up on her elbows and rested her chin in her hands so she could cover her mouth and kept her green gaze upon him the whole while.
"That's… it," he muttered, "so if you want to leave, I get it. I should have told you all this sooner but…"
"I would have left," she murmured, which he nodded about and looked away. "I might have… but I doubt it," she assured as she sat up to readjust herself so she was in his lap and her arms were once more around his neck. "Inuyasha… that's just that, the past, I love the man you are now, the man that's helped me so much. Thank you for telling me, I am sure it was hard for you to tell me all that. Now," she kissed his awe-struck lips, "let me show you how much I love you."
He just grinned at that as he toppled her over to do the same.
[…]
Love? Maybe? Happy? Hell yes. Through festivals, movies, late-night-talks, walks, and so much more he knew that he loved every moment—well, most, there were some bad days—with Ayame. He knew he loved being with her, he knew he loved the way she could make him feel, he knew that she was too good for him.
A year transpired in the flash of an eye for them, there was even talk about moving in together—mostly, Ayame's fantasying and his nods. He liked his space, he liked his little apartment, her condo was far too big, too prestigious for his taste. The good thing about was, Ayame found his place quaint and didn't mind spending most of their nights there instead at hers.
Then a certain topic arose…
"I think I'm going to go back to college," Ayame hummed as she moved her salad around with her fork, "what do you think?"
"You've been saying that for months now," Inuyasha replied, "I think it's a good idea, you are smarter than you let on."
"I know I am," she smiled, "and… I got accepted to Kyoto University, my father was thrilled. You know everyone for the past eight generations in my family has graduated from there…"
"Ayame," Inuyasha gawked, "that's great! When would you start?"
"In a week," she murmured as her heavy eyes fluttered up to his suddenly dry expression.
"Oh… that's… soon."
"I didn't want to tell you," she sighed as she sat up straight and bit her bottom lip, "I really love you."
"I love you, too," he had learned to reply, he loved enough about her, about the way she made him feel and all the things she did, so why not soothe her conscious and just say it back?
"But… long-distance… I don't know, could we do that? Should we do that?"
"I don't know," he muttered.
"I love you," she repeated, she had to as she leaned forward, "but…"
"We shouldn't," Inuyasha guessed that was what she was going for and to that she just nodded, "I think… that's a good idea."
"Yeah," she smiled ever so weakly, "so do I…"
Their parting a week later at the train station was a bittersweet one, there was still affections there but… it was probably for the best. He couldn't love her like she deserved, she had to have figured that out and Kyoto and Tokyo weren't really close…
He kissed her goodbye, loaded her luggage on the train and hugged her one last time before she stepped on to find her seat and wave bye-bye.
It was déjà vu, he couldn't help but think about the last time he had said goodbye to someone important—someone he might have…?—at the train station almost two later.
It'd be rather bothersome if it became a trend in his life to say goodbye to gorgeous girls he cared about every two or so years…
A/N: Really, really, really, you all have no idea how happy you've made me with all the reviews :)
And that's why you have an update so soon because since plenty of you took time to review and say such kinds things that I decided to ignore writing an essay for a bit to write this chapter (it was far more fun, too). Thank you all, please keep them up.