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— Intentions —
35# - Bottom Line
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"Does one really want to stay on this road longer, knowing it would only end in devastation?"
― B. Fitzpatrick
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— U. Takumi
"It's getting hard to smile, Takumi," she murmured, her eyes downcast to her pale hands.
Instantly, Misaki cringed as if the confession had just burned her lips. Her eyes wouldn't meet mine as of late. Months had tortuously trickled with a lethargic speed, akin to how thick honey over a barely skewed arch would. It was slow, and yet inexorable, reminding me of a fall that would never end. Either way, it left my heart aching and my breathing short and chopped.
I hated myself so fucking much.
I should've bailed her out as soon as she had gotten in. Even if she told me not to, I should've done that anyway; borrowing money around, and not caring about her words. But then, she claimed that she'd never look my way again, if I ever did. Unfortunately, I had feared her words back then.
Now, it was too late.
"Then, don't," I told her. My voice was no louder than a rasp in the stillness of the jail visit room. "Don't force yourself, Misaki."
She gave me another sad smile.
"But you won't smile anymore. What should I do? I'm ruining you, too."
My forced smile stretched wider.
"What are you talking about, love?" I drawled, feigning confusion. My heart heavily fell in my chest at her hard expression. She opened her mouth, hesitating to voice her inner thoughts that I feared most.
My eyes held a silent plea, although my lips were still stretched wide with dry humor.
Please... Let it be. Let our precarious balance be, and just... Just play along.
She tensed. "Maybe..." Her words hung in the air.
We had never spoken about getting separate lives but the matter somehow lingered over our shoulders every time our speech would strain. Which happened more often than not, the past few weeks.
"Maybe we should just..."
I closed my eyes shut.
"No."
"Listen to me, Takumi."
"No."
I stood up, intent on retreating before hearing any fucking words that'd probably set up my funeral day. I wasn't ready.
I wouldn't ever be ready.
"No, no." I singled out once again, the inflection sharp and decisive.
"Takumi."
Rashly, my steps briskly brought me out of the room. I couldn't take a look back; not now. Not after the bomb she had dropped at me.
"I'll come back in a few days."
Although I knew I'd have probably done the same for her, I couldn't stomach the raw wound she had just fended in my soul.
―
Little did I expect her to just cleft it clean, in a single swing of her resolution. Soon after that day, she blocked out approved visitors from her register, effectively severing all ties with everyone else for maybe years to come.
Just like that.
In a blink.
Devastation ensued.
My voice was weak, only a remnant of what it used to be.
"She did... What?"
My confidence splintered into pieces by the few words Suzuna had said to me the next morning. It was like icy water doused on my barely woken up state; like the beginning of hell, where fire didn't burn hot. No, instead, it was so cold that it wildly singed my senses. It scalded my skin and what was left of my heart ―aches that wouldn't even remain.
Suzuna leaned upon the kitchen counter ―her ambers glassy with bruising recollections, the rims of her eyes dark by virtue to a sleepless night― and nudged around the savory egg scramble she had cooked with utmost defeat.
"I tried to visit her, after cram school," her lower lip quivered as her voice edged on waters. "They wouldn't let me in... Said I wasn't allowed to anymore..."
"Are you sure she demanded that?" I calmly circled to the cupboards above the kitchen appliances, bent on making myself some pitch black coffee ―of the same color of another ill-fated day.
A wet gasp escaped her lips. She began to sob.
"She wrote... She endorsed the form herself..."
A pause.
"I see," I worded in what I believed was my conversational tone.
Suzuna's ambers only reflected my raw pain when she gazed at me, wincing when she took in my strained features. I didn't even noticed that anymore for it was becoming the usual expression I wore now everyday; a jaw clenching, hard and tired grimace reigning over my face.
Instead of grabbing my usual coffee mug, my hands veered for a thick glass and the vial of Malt Scotch on the top cupboard. I turned around and wordlessly poured myself two fingers worth in the clear glass.
Suzuna's distressed plea fell on deaf ears. "Usui-san, please... Don't."
I shot it down in one strike. The burn was searing, and yet appreciated.
But it was nowhere enough.
Another two fingers...
"Stop that..." She tried to pry the glass from my fingers and I simply turned around before swigging the liquor down my throat, relishing in the scalding sensation it offered. "Don't give up on her..."
I wouldn't give up. I was not man enough to let go as she wished for.
All I needed was a little reprieve from the blow she had fired to my heart, hoping it would heal someday.
―
— A. Misaki
What was there to say?
I loathed pity.
Self-esteemed lawyer, I always knew that my position would raise my pride to no ends. I also knew that it would finally put me out of those pitiful stares I often got back when I was in law school, my clothes disheveled and wrinkled whereas theirs were ironed to perfection.
And now, all those preppy rich daughters and sons must've been laughing at me, were they to see my current state.
Reduced to a filthy mess, I couldn't even recognize myself anymore. The woman who had once been so confident with her lawyer degree had now been demoted of her legislation license, unable to speak on behalf of any glorified principles.
But that, compared to how my surrounding had taken my circumstances, had merely been a background pain.
Sure, it hurt.
But not as much as my family anguish, their eyes glimmering with terror and distress. I had let them down. And although everyone pretended to put a smile over their face, I was no guileless lamb.
It was heavy.
Heavy to look at.
Heavy to feel.
Heavy to live.
Weak emeralds shining with a semblance of hope surged back in my mind, trying to trick me into thinking that everything would be okay.
Why did their make-believe behaviors hurt me so much? Why couldn't they stop tip-toeing around me, all too suddenly treating me as if I were a child?
Was it because I had no more future in my law-career?
Or worse.
Was it... Out of love?
My mind brought me back to Takumi, a place where I found myself often drifting to. The fight in his eyes had started dwindling in a matter of weeks.
But maybe was the issue remaining in the sole fact that... I knew him too well just as much as he could read me like an open book. All of our pretending was useless, apart from making it more difficult than it initially were.
His fake smiles ―plastered expressions of nonchalant pleasure and counterfeit peace of mind― only contrasted too plainly with his receding faith. It was obvious.
He had smiled.
I had smiled back.
In the end, we were destroying each others.
I wouldn't pretend that I'd succeed in moving on, and neither had I any intentions to. But our current tie was unhealthy. It was poison dribbling in our veins, corrupting every seconds of our mind into bitter thoughts and sorrow futures.
We couldn't see past where we were.
Until we finally found our balance back, it would be wiser to part.
Until then...
I faintly smiled, looking down at the creases of my hands. The screeching alarm suddenly swelled in the incarceration complex, all lights going down.
Time to sleep.
Or so they say. For me, it would only be more time to think and mull in my thoughts. Regrets or not, what was done was done. I closed my eyes, falling down onto the hard and unforgiving meaty mattress.
There was no going back.
Only forward.
But still... I feared it so damn much...
A lone tear spilled out of my eyes, trickling down the curve of my cheek to smear into the sickening cottony pillow.
So many years to go... I silently cried myself to sleep.
―
Author's note:
Because I don't want to rush thing... And because things should never be rushed...
I don't even want to imagine how it would feel like, being at Misaki's stead.
Also, I'd like to apologize for the short chapter. But today is a special day... Have you noticed?
It's the One Year Anniversary of Intentions, my lovelies!
"Happy birthday to you, Happy birthd-..." ...w-what? Can't I sing the birthday song to my story? :c *blushes*
―Jokes aside.
It's been... One. FREAKING. Year!
Like it was 2015... then, BAM! Onto 2016!
(My logic is not flawed at all, as you can see. It might perhaps be a little bit too elementary, though. Ah, I'm feeling very foolishly excited right now, and I'm sure that in months, when I'll edit back at my AN's, I'll probably look away in shame. *sighs*)
Moving on.
Anyway, I can't believe it's been so long! I am shamed to see that I have yet completed the story. But then, I was such a fool to start it on my two most-busy-school-wise years! Ugh. I should put more dedication to my academics than my stories but well... I always seem to come back to you... *winks*
Really, Thank you for staying with me this long. One year! Do you realize that? Your support has been the warmest of all during this harsh year.
With Love,
Always.
-J