ii
Loser. Pathetic. Useless. She wonders how many words she can come up to describe herself.
She tried to step beyond his boundary. To break his barrier. To understand him. To know the true person behind his mask.
She tried. But she failed.
Moreover, she has lost in the game.
She had struggled at first, denied her true feelings.
Because it couldn't be... It shouldn't be...
But it is too strong, too rebellious, that it has managed to break free.
She gives up and lets her feelings explode.
Right, she has fallen in love with him. But is accepting the truth enough? Is it going to change anything? Will it make her feel better? Is it really going...
...to set her free?
If only he doesn't hate her. Or if only she knows why he does.
If only.
.
"Why did you get yourself drunk, Toushirou?" She's just concerned. She only wants him to open up. But Toushirou is so difficult to subdue.
"Why do you even care?" Despite the unsteady voice, he has still managed to cover the words with hostility. "Just get out of my room."
Karin clenches her fists as she exclaims, frustrated, "Why are you so immature?! Don't I even have the right to worry about you?! I only want to help! What is the problem with that, Toushirou?!"
In just a snap, she finds herself lying flat on his bed, both wrists pinned on either side of her head. Toushirou has trapped her middle in between his knees.
Karin stares, wide-eyed, at his glaring eyes.
"Stop. Calling me that." Toushirou hisses. He really is unnerving. He truly is in command. "And stop pretending like you give a damn. Why? What do you really want? If I'd give it to you, are you already going to leave me alone?"
Why is he so excellent at hurting her just with his words? In the first place, why is she letting it affect her too much?
"I am not as shallow as that," she argues, rivaling his glare. "Let me go."
But he's not the type to easily take orders. He's just as stubborn as she is, refusing to lose in any battle. "Fine. I'll to give you what you want."
With those words, Karin has thought he's going to release her, but she realizes that she was wrong when she feels him kissing her again.
Scalding hot, lust-filled, and is it only the bitterness of alcohol that she is tasting? No, she knows it isn't. His kiss is naturally bitter, inspired by hatred.
Toushirou hasn't pulled away even when his lips had left hers. Instead, he continues grazing them on her cheek, on her jaw line, on her neck.
"S-stop..." Karin pleads, her voice barely audible.
"Why? Isn't this what you want?" Those words are harsh; accusing, really. "My wealth, my name, and this. Those are the only things that people want from me. So don't dare to pretend that you're different."
Karin doesn't know how, but upon hearing his accusation, she has gained the strength to get her wrists free from his hold. She pushes him away, and without giving him the time to react, her palm has come in a sharp contact with his face.
The slap is well-deserved.
The usual iciness has escaped Toushirou's eyes as they stare at Karin. It's been replaced by shock and regret.
Shock of what she did.
And regret of what he did.
"I- I am sorry, Ka— Kurosaki. I didn't mean to..."
Ah, how she loathes how he has softened when she's already on the verge of anger.
"It's fine. You're just drunk."
She'll not break down in front of him; that's what runs on her mind as she bolts out of his room.
.
She's not going to cry. She has promised herself that she would never cry again.
He doesn't deserve it. He's not worthy of her tears.
"Mum... I miss you... I really do."
She feels so small, so fragile. Curling herself and hugging her legs as she sits on her bed, all she only wants to do is to cave in.
"Dad... Ichi-nii... Yuzu... I wish... I wish you were here."
It must be great if she can enclosed herself within a love one's embrace. But how can she do that?
Her mother's not with them anymore.
Her father and her siblings are far away.
And the person who's closest to where she is, the man she loves... is the reason why she's appalled right now.
So how?
"I... I know that he's hurting too, and I hate the fact that I can't do anything to know the reason. He needs someone who will help him realize that he is capable of being loved. Not because of what he has, but of who he is. Deep inside, he's kind-hearted... Way better than those who pretend that they are. But he... He's afraid to show it... And I do not know why."
"I only want to be by his side. To help him. But... But... Am I not enough to do that? Am I not the person who he needs? Why... Then why can't it be me?"
Her questions are met by silence. It stays like that for a few seconds.
"Why did I let myself to fall for him?"
.
It is not a love story written in a book. They are not the lead characters of a romance novel. It is not the ordinary hate-turned-to-love plot line. She is not the girl that the guy has fallen in love with. He is not her perfect man. It is not her happy ending story. No, it is not their own fairy tale.
She has played, fair and square. Now, the game is almost over. Six months has passed.
She loves him. He still hates her.
She will leave broken. He will not even care.
Why is it that, in this game, she has to be the only loser?
.