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Ch.5 Broken
Aaaahhhhhhhh!
Tsukushi, tsukushi, shhh, it's okay baby, it's okay.
Tsukasa softly whispered to her as she was hugged tightly to his chest. He murmured calming words to her, hoping to sooth her of the nightmare that had been reoccurring ever since the event.
Tsukushi gripped him tightly, trying very hard to stop her distressed nerves. She breathed deeply into his familiar scent, and felt a sense of security as his large warm hand begin rubbing her back in a calming way. Her anxiety and fear died, and then sleep came to her.
Tears leaked out the corner of his eyes as he observed his sleepy wife, who moaned in distress from her restless dream. Pulling her tighter against him, he tried to transcend his warmth to her. Hoping with desperation, that the possibility that his love and warmth would give her strength and support in her dreams.
The fateful day haunted them every night. They clung to each other in pain when they are reminded of their loss. The haunting day consumed them, their soul are chained to the past as it gripped them tightly by the throat. It was hard to breathe.
Their large grand house was silent, too silent. The bright green room meant for welcoming their new born son was now chained and locked and forbidden to enter. The baby clothes and materials had caused hysteria from Tsukushi, as it reminded her of the empty shell she now carries. She had felt empty and dead like her son. Their son. Remorseful and pained with guilt she had heeded to no one. Breaking and throwing anything that reminded her of the loss into a mass of ruins. The maid and butler at first had rushed forward to stop the racket. But Tsukasa had held them back, allowing her room for her frustration and guilt to be temporary appeased by the destruction.
In every attempt to heal, they've isolated themselves from friends and family. It wasn't intentional, but the graphic horror of the event not only took its effect on the couple, but also their friends and family. They come and go with pity and condolences in their eyes that forever reminded them the reality and the grievance that they only manage to dulled down in the short span of 5 months.
They had to forget. They needed to forget as the pain gnawed at their hearts all too often. They mourn day and night, the loss of their son haunted them each day they live. With absolute resolved they salvaged their wounds with each night of gentle love, healing bit by bit, trying to comfort each other as much as they can.
The household no longer carried its bright merriment and excitement, rather the garden has now grown out of arrangement, a private garden that Tsukushi only manage herself is now out of it's usual array. Tsukasa no longer flies to New York, rather all work are brought over by his most trusted secretary as he worked from home.
Tsukasa hovered over Tsukushi's naked form in worry. He brought her palm up for a kiss, and begin to lose himself once again to the cursed past. She sleepily turned over to face him, awoken from tight his hold, she pulled him towards her as she kissed away his pain and tears.
These past few months of mourning and hysteria are numbing down into silent grievance.
Although the future seemed grim, but there was a small hope in her. Perhaps they can start anew, perhaps they can laugh again. Tsukushi contemplated hopefully to herself, as she softly whispered comforting words to deter him from remembering.
Tsukasa sighed as he was once again is comforted by his wife, silently seething at himself about his uselessness in such a situation. He held onto her tightly.
Hoping for a better tomorrow.
Sir, we found the suspect, and you are correct it is he who shot your wife.
Tsukasa eyes clenched tightly shut as he mulled over the details from his agent. He opened his eyes, face ashen white as he looked down towards the wedding ring on his finger. Slowly, he pulled it off, and examined its elegance and design.
It rolled smoothly over his fingers, and he stared hard at it.
How long has it been?
How long ago since Tsukushi smiled?
When will this pain go away?
Then with seething solid determination, he gripped the ring tightly into a fist, and then called for his secretary. The man came forward without hesitation.
Don't hand him to the police yet, I've still have plans for him.
The secretary tensed at the cold sharpness of his boss's orders.
It was truly a horrible thing that Mr. Domyouji's wife was shot. Everyone began to fear him again, they shrank away from him, too frighten by the quiet malevolence that he carries. Business partners fear him, they fear his implacable hardness that render them with nothing to carry on with.
His cold and merciless stratagem in his business deals, redeem him his original title as the world's most ruthless Businessman. He handle businesses unyieldingly, business deals that brought many pain and humiliation to others. His keen eyes knew just when to kick into the deal, and when to make the business associate crumble into a begging mess, as he left them without a care in the world. He became the Domyouji Tsukasa that he was known so long ago.
The secretary sighed as he had watched the prideful man turned cold in the wake of what had happen. No one could match his boss's unrelenting ways; even the stubborn old mule of the CYork company's executive came crawling to his feet within a day for his struggling company. It became an uproar when Domyouji turned that man away, unbending to any of his pleas.
Tsukushi thought over the past few weeks of loneliness and longing, Tsukasa no longer touches her. Only emptiness awaits for her in their bed at night. She could not understand what had transcended between them for him to behave like that. It was abrupt, one day his secretary drop by and by that night he was a changed man. His eyes were complex over remorse and pain as he told her in their bed that night that he was going back to New York for work.
Tsukushi had first misunderstood the sudden separation as a way of healing for him, and she did not object. But soon days became weeks, weeks became months. There was nothing but the cold breeze in the night to keep her company. She tossed in their large spacious bed as she contemplated what occurred during the day.
Tsukasa-tsukasa don't go, you've been gone too long! Listen to me, I need you here, Tsukasa-
I'm sorry but I need to attend to an important meeting, we will talk when I get back. Please go in and rest, it's cold outside.
She had run barefooted after him, pulling and tugging at him to look at her. He had not turned to look at her, rather his cold voice chilled her to the bones. It was a loveless voice. One that held no regard for her, like a polite stranger, he rejected her. She realized he had suddenly become the Tsukasa that everyone had feared in Etouku High. Strength left her as she dropped her arms from holding him back. There was nothing she could do. She watched quietly as his car drove out of sight.
She felt the silent rejections from him again. Each visit, he would only briefly come back to their home for a short stay, treating it as if it was a hotel or a vacation home. There were no more hesitation in leaving her, he left like the wind. Every time she tried to talk or touch him, he shied away, always remorseful and tensed at her contact. Excuses after excuses piled up, he wanted to avoid her company. She had been in denial at first. She had believed in him, trusting that he was only healing, that it was essential for him to heal.
But perhaps she was wrong.
Perhaps what he wanted was to leave her, to leave her and the past behind.
She stared into the darkness of the room. The full moon illuminating the room in it's eerie brightness. Then turning over onto her side, she spotted the ticking clock on their bedstead. With a huff, she threw the clock into its ruins in silent frustration. It was the fourth clock that she had manage to smashed to pieces. The sound of the clock always haunted her, like a knife it sliced her heart each hour of the day it passed by, each chime reminded her how much time had passed since they lost their son. And Tsukasa was no where near to comfort her. No loving phone calls or hugs and kisses. Everything in the past was like a ghost itself.
Was there really love?
Perhaps this their love was all an illusion,
Something are too good to be true,
Something are too good to be reality.
She turned and lay on her back. She was alone. The cold truth. He did not want her. He did not want her anymore. He was walking away.
Walking away.
He was walking away from their marriage.
He was walking away from her.
He was finally throwing her away.
A sardonic chuckle left her lips as she began to resolve into her own conclusion of his unusual ways. He couldn't bear to touch her, and he had turned away from her each time she pleaded for him to stay longer. He's unreachable; he doesn't pick up her calls. They no longer converse, it seemed like ages ago since they had once smiled and chatted happily about the absolute future. Their future, the beautiful future that they were supposes to have. The future with their son was all brought to ruins in a matter of seconds. Now every time they see each other it reminded them of what they could have had. It soon became undeniably, irreversible, and undeniably obvious.
He rejected her.
And she became self loathing.
Why?
Why would he do that,
What other truths was there but that he was leaving her.
Dawn broke through the curtains, and small light of the sun ray fell on a stilled figure lumped on a spacious bed. The valuables and vases were broken into bits and pieces on the floor, there were ink splatters on the walls, it was a total mess. Anything and everything in the room was either thrown or ripped into shreds leaving destruction in its wake. Only their large bed was unscathed from her wrath.
A knocked came from the door.
Madame, Breakfast is read-
The maid screamed at the sight of destruction and mess of the once glory master room. The butler came and they both stared wordlessly in horror at the mistress of the house in nothing but her night gown that was soaked.
Soaked in her blood.
Blood from the breakage of skin.
Blood that came from her continuous need to claw at her skin.
The cracks on the glass cup widen,
The fallen glass broke into shards.
In its wake it left nothing but irreplaceable pieces behind.
-To be continued-
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