things fall apart
summary: slowly, they discover parts of each other and figure out what's meant to be. multiple pairings.
A/N: This is a series of one-shots for Shugo Chara, which I do not own, detailing pairings (yes, even those I dislike). Enjoy!
Perhaps this is the end for them.
No, this is certainly the end for them.
She sits, curled up into a ball, her expression serene, on the couch in the living room, and she's just dressed in a pair of jeans and a jacket that she managed to snag from her - no, their - room without alerting the happy couple.
The tears have already started, and it's like a faucet that she can't turn off. The faucet has rusted away because nobody's ever used it, and now that it's finally put back to use, it's rather faulty.
She hasn't cried since her elementary school days, back in Seiyo, where she put all her demons at rest.
And now she sits here mutely, eyes wide and sweating, and she wonders how she got into this mess in the first place.
She knows that they can't hear her, so she lets out the tiniest of whimpers, and wonders where she can stay for the night.
Her parents' house is off-limits, since they're on their anniversary trip that she planned for them, and the spare key they gave her is only for emergencies. She doubts they'd classify this as an emergency.
Meanwhile, she doubts that Amu and Ikuto will let her stay. No way will Utau and Kukai either. Kairi might, but she doesn't want to impose on him or anything, and Yaya and Tadase might as well, but they're both too nice and she'll end up feeling useless, like a third wheel.
She carefully walks out of the apartment, and exits the building, pretending to be walking into the apartment from the outside when really she just left.
Sure enough, out of the gilded door shoots a pink-haired girl...
Speak of the devil. She feels her breath catch, and she gasps for air, staggering to the wall and holding on for support.
That was Amu.
Amu just left her apartment.
Her world tilts upside down, and she's falling to the ground in the soft snow.
The tears start coming again, and soon enough she's wailing like an infant.
Even though she's dressed rather warmly, her pale skin is cold, and her body is sinking down, through the piles of smooth snow, which are actually quite deep.
She shakes her head, and hauls herself up. It will do her no good to wallow in self-pity.
Hurrying into the building, she brushes the snow off of herself, and, rummaging for her key in her purse, opens the door.
There is Nagihiko, sitting in the kitchen, his reading glasses propped up on his nose snugly, his hair in a ponytail.
He looks really girly right now.
She's grateful for that thought, since it distracts her from reality.
He looks up from his book and his steaming mug of coffee.
"Welcome back, Rima-chan."
"I-I saw Amu," she stammers, aware of her face flushing bright, bright red and her eyes shooting down to the ground nervously.
"We were just catching up. She dropped by a few hours ago, and we got to talking about the good old days when we all went to the same schools. Until college, of course."
She's aware that she looks like she's seen a ghost, her face ashen, and her eyes impossibly large, like cookies to a sheet of paper. Her hands fly up to cover her eyes.
"I see," she says lowly, and she sees a hint of fear in his eyes.
He thinks she knows.
She knows he thinks she knows, because she does know.
She knows everything now.
It's too late now, to pretend nothing had happened.
She rushes into their bedroom, and starts flinging clothes into a suitcase. Dresses fly off the hangers like magic, and so do shoes and skirts and tops. She pauses only to catch her breath, or to pick up a dropped item.
He comes into the room, surprised.
"Rima-chan, what are you doing?"
She looks past him, past that lying face that she fell for five years ago, and she sees the pure, white snow outside their window. The place where she fell is now completely covered. There is no evidence she was ever there. Meanwhile, the bare trees shiver in the wind, and snow keeps on falling, making everything beautiful.
That was when they were truly happy, in their first winter. Maybe after that was when he started his affair.
And she couldn't forget Christmas, could she?
She had been so sick that they didn't think she'd ever recover, but she did. He was distant, and rarely visited her in the hospital. Nadeshiko told her that her brother just couldn't stand looking at such things, that he was delicate.
"You mean he can't stand looking at me," she had said, eyes downcast and clutching a teddy bear. "He can't stand looking at me, can he? He doesn't love me if he can't look at me, if I'm not pretty to him...please leave, Nadeshiko. You look like him. You look so much like him...and you might be disgusted with me too. You might hate me because I'm sick. I don't want to make you hate me."
She had cried into that bear. That was how many years ago? Two?
Ironically, she had never had a very strong constitution.
Winter was cold and harsh, but it was also a time of rest and love, especially the generosity of Christmas. It was her season.
And he hated winter.
He loved summer.
Summer, carefree and daring, exciting and cute.
Winter, regal and calm, beautiful and serene.
He loved Amu.
They were polar opposites, and they should have never come together.
"I'm sorry," she says, and to prove that she really means it, she touches his cheek.
He doesn't flinch away from her touch. His face is warm, and it's earnest, but she doesn't believe him anymore, because she can't believe him anymore.
"Do you hate me?" she says softly, and slowly retracts her hand. But he grabs it again, a sudden movement that startles her.
For a moment neither of the two say anything, just him holding her hand, unwilling to let her go. She feels his eyes boring into hers, and she looks back into them with defiance, shame, and hurt.
"No," he says after a brief pause, "I don't hate you."
"But you don't love me," she says, and zips up her suitcase. As she's about to leave, he stands in front of the door, and takes something out of his pocket.
In a rush of words that are so unlike him, he says, "The day I met you...I took your cell phone because you left it on the bench...I didn't give it back because I wanted to know what your number was...I kept it..."
He's starting to cry as well, and her tears are already long gone.
"You are out of chances," she says coldly. "You've tried to love winter, but I see that you don't."
He blinks, astonished.
"What do you mean by loving winter? How does that have to do with anything?"
She puts a hand on her heart, and remembers everything. She remembers her little goofball chara, KusuKusu, and she remembers their companionship. She remembers destroying X-Eggs, she remembers being told by everyone that Amu was right and she was wrong. She remembers believing that she could be happy, that maybe it would work out in the end.
And she feels her heart tug in response, trying to stay on Nagihiko's side. No, her brain tells her, don't stay. He's a cheating liar, and he'll always be one.
In that instance she knows that her brain will always be logical, while her heart will always be emotional.
"You don't like logic. You'd rather have emotions. You'd rather have her and me. When we were little. That crush you had. I should've known I could never replace her in your heart. I was always second-best. None of you really loved me...she was the center of all of your worlds, and what was I? You jumped to her defense first because she was so beautiful to you...and to me too. She was my friend, but she didn't love me. I loved her."
"I don't understand why I stayed. I should've left. I should've known that Amu was always your true love. But she didn't want you, and so you took me instead. We were never ever equals, were we? I can't love you, because I haven't found somebody who will love me more than her."
He frowns.
"She might be my sun," he says, "but you are my moon. The sun might be bright and blinding, people might only see the sun at first, but the moon is for those lost in despair, those who need a guide to their light. The moon shines brighter than the sun because the people who love it are darker. The moon is beautiful."
He walks closer to her, and she winces a little.
"I love you."
"No," she says, and runs while she can, runs out of the apartment with her suitcase in tow.
He chases her all the way down to the apartment's parking lot where she hastily dials a cab. He's still following her, and he is almost going to catch up until the car screeches up, and she hastily flings herself inside of it.
The driver quirks an eyebrow.
"Nasty ex?"
"No," she says tiredly, "just a cheating bastard who tried to smooth it over with words."
They are moving, and she doesn't know where, but all she knows is that leaving was necessary.
"Sometimes," the driver says softly, turning to look at her, his gentle blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight, "we just have to forgive and forget."
She shakes her head.
"He's messed up too many times."
"He loves you."
She tastes blood in her mouth, a sign that she's bitten down on her tongue accidentally.
Stiffly, she says, "He might love me, but I will always be second in his heart, and it's pulling him down."
They keep on driving into the night, and she watches the city go by in a flash, and wonders what he is doing.
"If you loved me," she mutters, "maybe you would care about the consequences."