Hello and welcome back to Cherry Jade! All my love to everyone who Faved and Followed, especially to these beautiful people for blessing me with their encouraging words: PhoenyxOfTheMuses, Einklley, Yeahboyy, Guest, Mango0flh5, and Cilenia Alsacia! ❤️❤️❤️
For today's chapter (at least for the first part) I highly encourage ya'll to please listen to Yes to Heaven by Lana del Ray. It's a lovely song that's pretty much the official soundtrack for this story which accurately sums up the whole situation with Reiya and Mikey, or ReiJiro as Einklley christened it. Thanks again sweetie! ❤️🌸
For today's tidbits:
※ Genkan refers to the traditional Japanese entryway areas that combine a porch and a doormat. It's pretty much where you remove or replace your footwear before entering the main part of a house or building.
※ A Yunomi is a common, traditional type of Japanese teacup without a handle.
※ Chrysanthemums are one of the many famous ornamental flowers and it's highly esteemed in Japan. It's the imperial family's symbol and they even have an annual Festival of Happiness dedicated to it held every September. The flower comes in different colors and in true flower language fashion, each color has different meanings. The meanings may vary depending on the country or culture but in this story, this is what they mostly mean: White symbolizes deep pain from a break-up, Pink symbolizes the fragility of a romantic connection, Yellow means rejection of love, and finally, Purple speaks of unbearable anguish at the thought of losing a loved one. It's a really versatile flower that can either be given in contemporary settings, or for "traditional" uses.
Now as a customary caution, this chapter will contain the following: some sugar, a bit of spice, and then somebody dies.
In other words, BUCKLE UP.
〖 Chapter Four 〗
Rallentando of a Fickle Fate
(PART II)
The simple, quiet statement felt like someone just pulled the rug from underneath Reiya's feet.
"You mean…for a while?"
"Ever."
She blinked as if she'd been slapped, and she had to swallow first before she managed to ask why.
Manjiro looked away and fixed his gaze forward. "I'm going to be busy from now on. I've put off from doing a lot of work and now they're gonna keep me away for a long time." He gave her a sideways glance, his eyes wistful but adamant. "I'm really glad I met you but it was a coincidence, and I'm not about to ask you to wait for me. It's not fair for the both of us."
Reiya could hardly believe it. She was about to be abandoned. She swallowed against the hard thump in her throat and reinforced herself. She was not about to back down from the promise of a relationship unlike anything she'd ever experienced just like that. Not without a fight.
"I don't think I follow," she said. "Jiro-kun, you're not asking me for anything if I'm the one who wants to wait, and I do. You don't have to go out of your way to see me if you don't want to, but it doesn't have to be forever, does it? I mean..." She fidgeted as a blush began to scatter across her nose. "We could just…casually meet up from time to time…and I don't mind going out of my way to come to you. We'll meet each other halfway. It's not that hard, is it?"
Manjiro looked at her as if the suggestion electrified him, his jaw slack and eyes gleaming with mingled fascination and dismay.
"Not that it's that easy, either…" he answered carefully.
Reiya squared her shoulders. "If there's a will there's a way."
He released a quick huff of amusement at her pouting face. "Cherry-chan, I just told you…I'm going to be really busy from now on. I can't meet up with you anymore, even if I want to."
"I don't believe you."
"And you're being stubborn."
Reiya pushed back slightly with a blink. Stubborn? Oh now he was asking for it. Annoyed and desperate, she moved closer until her leg bumped into his bent knee, not missing the way Manjiro leaned away slightly in his seat as if it was crucial to maintain some distance between them.
"You said you can get away whenever you want to, but now you suddenly can't?"
The blond tensed but held his ground, his posture reminding her of a cornered animal. Reiya took a step back, her features softening as she studied his lonely, somber profile.
"Tell me…just what do you do that must keep you away?" she asked gently.
Manjiro was silent for a long moment. He sighed and looked at her with this earnest look in his eyes which showed just how much he longed to give her the truth.
And then he opened his mouth, "Your hair's still all over the place, by the way."
Reiya straightened with an affronted blush. "If you're trying to distract me it's not working!"
Manjiro lifted his palms in mock surrender and gave a quick laugh at the sight of her raised fists. He subsided with a repentant smile and held her by her upper arms, his hands warm and gentle as they slid up around her shoulders, effectively subduing her. He smoothed her hair down, tucking one of her stray locks behind one ear as if he couldn't help himself.
"Only that it's not the common kind, and I don't want to see you get hurt," he answered gently.
Reiya relaxed, realizing that he just replied to her previous question. It wasn't exactly an answer but she had a clear picture of it now and the hard, rapid thumping of her heart began to feel painful. She wrapped her right hand around his left forearm, the two of them locked in a moment of helpless yearning.
"What are you afraid of?" she wondered aloud.
Manjiro merely shook his head, his hands falling away from her. "You shouldn't get involved with me any more than this."
He was trying to shut her out again. In that moment Reiya felt something she'd never felt before; an untamed madness that reinvigorated the force of her bottled-up desires. She reached out and laid her right palm flat against the side of his neck, directly over the expanse of his dragon tattoo. She felt his entire body jerk in response and Manjiro strained as if to pull away but she moved with him, pulling herself close.
"I'm not afraid of you, or your secrets," she declared, her ash-lavender eyes narrowing with resolve.
Manjiro swallowed as if he ate something hard, his eyes fierce and bright with internal struggle. "You don't understand—"
"Then let me understand. You don't even have to make me, just don't hide from me, don't push me away before I can even try." Her eyes began to prickle with the pressure of tears but she blinked them back, which only made it worse. Reiya hid her wavering expression by lowering her head, her hand slipping down to his collar bone. "I just want to get to know you more…" she murmured plaintively.
"Don't," she heard Manjiro say in a husky voice, but it sounded like he was saying it more to himself.
It was hard to keep her composure when he was so close, when her feelings for him were too powerful. Suddenly he cradled her cheeks in his hands, angling her face upward with great care and Reiya was nearly stunned to find his face so close to hers, the silhouette of his head outlined by the soft yellow glow of the streetlight. She hadn't even realized how wet her eyes had gotten until she felt his thumb wipe a wayward tear away, so gently that she was breaking apart inside.
Reiya touched his tattoo again, cupping it tenderly, and Manjiro went completely still, riveted at whatever he saw in her expression.
"You would never hurt me…" she told him, her voice whisper soft.
They were but a breath away from each other, alighting the space between them with tight, shimmering possibilities in which the only plausible option left to choose was to press even closer. To touch, to connect.
Manjiro's hand slid down, his thumb caressing the spot of where her dimple would appear as he bent to press their foreheads together, the choice made.
"Never," he promised, before sealing it with a kiss.
At last, her entire body seemed to sigh. At last, while her nerves thrummed with a vibrant pulse. Time slowed and every single thought and noise faded away. There was only him and this moment, the sweet delicate pressure of his mouth on hers.
But it all ended too soon. Manjiro broke away with a muffled curse and covered his mouth with the back of his hand, clenching it close when it began to tremble. A bright red flush spread across the plane of his cheeks and he looked away from her, looking shaken and apologetic.
"I'm…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," he said unsteadily, the words barely audible behind his clenched hand.
Reiya made a sound that indicated she didn't mind at all. She gently closed her hands around his fist, drawing it away and waiting until she had his eyes. She smiled at him, tenderness edged with mischief as she lifted it up to her mouth and spoke softly against his knuckles, peering at him from behind heavy dark lashes.
"You know...that was actually another one of my firsts today..."
Manjiro's eyebrows rose in realization, the alluring red tint on his face becoming even more profound as he gaped at her. "You mean...you...no one's ever kissed you before?"
Reiya couldn't help but giggle at his reaction. He was so adorable, thinking how he practically stole her first kiss, looking guilty but reluctantly pleased at the same time. She brought their hands down and leaned close, slowly...until their lips were almost touching.
"No...And I want you to have the second one. So won't you please kiss me again?"
The quiet demand in her seemingly timid request made Manjiro smile a little. He slowly shook his head as if he was about to refuse her, but the smoldering quality of his gaze remained and Reiya saw the exact moment he decided to throw all caution to the wind.
She stepped away as he got off the bike, only to be pulled back into his axis the moment he set both feet on the ground. They stood chest to chest with his hands on her hips, their bodies perfectly aligned, and for a moment they simply reveled in each other's nearness.
Manjiro slipped his hands beneath the denim jacket and she yielded to him completely as he ran his hands along her sides in a slow, supple caress, sparking heat in her veins and making her shiver. He kissed her on the chin, then on her cheek. He kept one hand around her back while the other traveled upwards to the side of her head, fingers sinking languidly into the thick mass of her hair.
"As many times as you want," he murmured with a smile, his eyes half-lidded and filled with unfathomable emotion.
Reiya smiled at the reminder and Manjiro gave her another, this one directly on her dimple, savoring the feel of it before he finally sought her mouth with his own. Sensation ignited everywhere and she was gratified with the way he led her through the kiss, the pressure soft, slow, gently coaxing for a response and Reiya felt him smile when she pressed back and responded in kind, their lips moving over soft firm clasps and deeply caressing nudges, the pace unhurried and teasing and seemingly endless.
She began to dissolve in it, making her arch further against him, into him, her arms coming up to rest around his neck with her right hand sliding up to the back of his head, and they both purred when she ran her fingers through the rich gleaming layers of his hair.
Manjiro's kisses were so sweet and oh so gentle, and yet, not enough. She wanted more, wanted to be closer, to be savored, taken. With her confidence turning anew, Reiya drew back just a little, letting him chase her before meeting him halfway and she dared to touch the tip of her tongue against the seam of his lips. His reaction was electric.
Manjiro lifted his mouth from hers, his eyes an unearthly blaze of pitch-black desire before he dove back down with an open-mouthed kiss. The pressure of his lips increased, giving more and demanding just as much as one kiss started before another one could finish. And somehow, somewhere…Manjiro's kisses no longer felt like kisses.
It felt like a possession.
He coaxed her lips apart and Reiya timidly opened up to him, melting against him with complete, mindless surrender, and she couldn't help the helpless, needy noise that rustled low in her throat when she finally felt the hot and silky slide of his tongue against hers. The contact electrified her, completed her, elevating her to some new dimension of feeling and Manjiro continued to fill her, consume her, plying her with softly ravishing strokes and pulls until it was nearly impossible to tell what part of her ended and where he began, siphoning pleasure and wringing soft moans and sighs out of her as he brought her more tightly against himself, as if he was trying to protect her with his entire body.
It was everything Reiya wanted and needed, to be close to him with no holds barred, to be held and kissed with a fervor that reached down to the very bowels of her soul. She absorbed as much of him as she could; his hardness and warmth, his sweetness, the intoxicating trace of mango and vodka on his tongue, and his scent; the smell of the outdoors, of smoke and leather, of the ocean, and the faint crisp fragrance of cologne on warm male skin, the smell of home.
She lost all track of time and reality. Only one thought pierced and echoed through the haze in her mind as they continued to descend into the dreamlike darkness of passionate oblivion.
'I love you…I am completely, permanently, and desperately in love with you.'
Their sensuous pace gradually eased into slow, light kisses. Manjiro gave her one last peck before pulling away and burying his face in her hair, the two of them panting with soft uneven breaths and unable to part with the other just yet.
Reiya embraced him around the torso and lowered her forehead on his shoulder, feeling boneless but sated. She realized how nicely they fit together; softness and hardness, pliancy and tension…every curve of hers perfectly reconciled with every masculine contour of his.
For the rest of her life, Reiya would never forget the sheer pleasure of it. She never wanted to be out of his arms and she turned a little in his embrace to press a grateful, lingering kiss on his tattoo, making him groan and jerk a little.
"Mn, we gotta stop, Cherry-chan..." Manjiro said as he pulled back, his eyes glittering with a mix of unabated heat and rueful amusement. "Any more and I won't be able to ride anymore."
Her eyes grew wide with concern. "Why? What's wrong?"
Manjiro's smile turned quizzical and it took her a full two seconds to understand what he meant.
"Oh," Reiya uttered, her face turning a vivid red. She couldn't help from darting a quick downward glance before looking up at him again with a helpless, timid gaze. "That must be so hard…I-I mean—! No pun intended! B-but, um, d-does it hurt?"
Manjiro was silent. His face was averted, his throat convulsing as if he was desperately trying not to choke, and just when Reiya began to feel full-blown worry for how uncomfortable he must've felt he buried his face into her hair and smothered a laugh. He was laughing way too hard at her expense – his shoulders quaking, his chest rumbling heavily against hers – but she would never trade this moment for the world.
"No but you're so innocent...how the hell is that possible?" he asked, chuckling uncontrollably.
"I'm not that innocent," Reiya objected with a pout. She was blushing so hard her cheeks began to ache. "I'm just inexperienced."
His mirth eventually subsided and he lifted his head to look at her, his face soft with wonder. Manjiro folded his hands on the small of her back and leaned back against his bike, bringing her with him. She could feel the hard strength of him everywhere, turning her limbs loose and pleasantly weighted, as if instinctively desiring they stay just like that forever.
Reiya pulled her arms from around him and placed them on his chest, meeting his gaze just as he tilted his head and asked, "I can't believe you've never been with anyone before. Why's that, Cherry-chan?"
Reiya shrank back a little, too embarrassed to talk about how she practically had zero experience in that area at her age. "W-well, I've never really been proactive when it comes to dating. My priorities were on something else." She smiled sheepishly. "So that explains, um…why I'm not so good at it."
"You mean kissing?" he asked, blinking in confusion, to which she answered with a shy nod.
Manjiro smiled, looking both benevolent and tenderly amused as he gathered her more closely against him, his hands gently moving over her back and shoulders in slow, warm caresses.
"What are you talking about? You're a natural." His head bent, his gaze wandering down to her mouth, and Manjiro lifted a hand to her chin as if he was about to make a point.
He passed his thumb over her kiss-swollen lips, urging them to part, and Reiya was mesmerized by the subtle changes in his face; the gentle rise of color, the immolating darkness of his eyes. His proximity renewed with a vengeance and her pulse quickened once more, every breath causing her chest to press more intimately against his in a teasing friction.
Manjiro's lips inched down as he spoke, the words light and hot as they fell on hers. "You learn fast, and you've got the sweetest mouth…"
Their eyes closed and Reiya welcomed the kiss with a soft hum. His hand went around her head as he gave her gently grasping kisses, his mouth lingering over sweet languorous skims until she was damp and open. She felt the silken prod and stroke of his tongue, skillfully courting hers with half-open kisses, and he didn't stop until she was crooning and shivering in his arms.
"Hnn, Jiro-kun…I thought you said no more…" Reiya murmured against his lips. But she was smiling, looking so impish and tender that Manjiro couldn't help but kiss her again, this time longer, heavier, somehow soothing and hungry at the same time. It felt like a gift. It felt like the last.
And she responded until her soul was scorching by the edges, until her thoughts and the beats of her heart were naught but dull echoes in the abandon where there was only him and her. Pleasure blossomed in streaks of liquid heat, more powerful and electrifying than anything Reiya had ever known, curling all through her and gathering in deep, private places.
A faint moan of protest left her the moment Manjiro broke the kiss. He nosed his way down to the slender slope of her neck, his soft exhalations ghosting gently over her skin like a touch of hot air, warming the misting metal of her golden chain choker.
She shivered again and Manjiro ran a hand over her back before tucking her head gently underneath his chin with the other. "Shit, sorry about that," he murmured after a while. "I'm serious now. No more."
Reiya giggled throatily, teasing words bubbling to be spoken but they were failing her as she was still recovering. She was suffused in a daze of desire, her bloodstream thrumming as if it was filled with sparks. All the while Manjiro held her close, keeping her still while she trembled and ached.
It felt like an eternity by the time Reiya had full possession of her wits. Manjiro's grip eased but he kept her enfolded, and she was grateful for the steely support of his arms as she could barely manage to stand on her own.
She cleared her throat a little, and spoke in a polite tone that directly contrasted the intimacy of their position, "If I'm a fast learner, that's only because you're such a good teacher, Jiro-kun-sensei," Reiya quipped, and she was rewarded with his melodious and hissy laugh.
"That reminds me...You mentioned something about priorities," he murmured over her head. "Were you the studious type then, Cherry-chan? The kind with glasses and braids?"
The half-joking question and its accompanying image made Reiya chuckle. "No, but I did put all of my focus in my studies and work," she said, her voice softening with the weight of the past. "All because I wanted to be an adult as soon as possible."
Keeping one arm around her, Manjiro leaned back and took a thick strand of her hair. He began to play with it, brushing the tips against his chin as he regarded her with newfound interest. "Why do you have to be an adult so fast?" he asked.
"Because I didn't want to depend on my mom and my…my stepfather anymore," Reiya answered quietly.
His sharp, curious gaze chased over her face, and he paused from flicking the tips of her hair mid-stroke. "I see…" he murmured, his gaze warm and understanding.
Manjiro released the lock of her hair. Softly, and with stunning tenderness, he eased her head against his shoulder. His arms went around her next, firm and snug, and Reiya burrowed herself deeper and more comfortably against him. She thought nothing could ever top the simple pleasure of being held and kissed in his arms, but she never knew how good it felt to be comforted and coddled like this by a man who would rather give than take...to feel the soothing rise and fall of his chest against hers as he ran his hand up and down the length of her hair in slow, hypnotic strokes...nothing had ever brought her such pleasurable serenity.
"So you've been all work and no play," he teased softly.
Reiya laughed a little and smiled, her cheek pressed to the soft cottony fabric of his shirt. "Yes. I won't say it's been easy, but I have no regrets at all."
Manjiro lowered his mouth by her ear. "Not even a little bit?"
"Well…maybe a little," she admitted in a pouty voice, making him chuckle. "I wanted to pursue a career in music just like my dad," she added, voice gaining a pensive lilt. "He stopped seeing me when I turned fourteen, claiming he was too busy, but he probably found it difficult to keep meeting with me since I lived with my mom. So I thought that…if I reach the same level as him, perhaps he'll take me with him and we'll be a family again, even if it's just the two of us. He was probably lonely, and even though I lived with my mom, I always felt like an outsider with her and her new family...It just wasn't meant to be I guess, since I lost both my dad and my place in the music world. But I was able to choose another path and I stuck to it, so I'm still quite proud of how far I've gotten even after having to start over again."
Manjiro momentarily paused from stroking her hair as he pressed his mouth against her temple. "You really are quite the optimist, aren't you?" he murmured. "But I don't really agree with what you said about losing your place in the music world. Last night proved it."
Reiya blinked and timidly asked, "Do you really think it was that good?"
Manjiro resumed stroking her hair softly, and even though she couldn't see him, she heard the smile in his voice. "You bet. By now...I think you've already figured out how we've already met before. That day when you played the Violin Concerto in the rain...I was there. You didn't see me, but you kinda did, just not in the physical sense. Your music helped me, all because you played from the heart…and that's enough to reach mine."
The words filled her with radiant warmth, making her lightheaded as if she was drunk, and that tender heat continued to diffuse all throughout Reiya's body until it collected in her chest and eyes.
"You're the only one who likes my wonky renditions," she said with an unsteady laugh.
"Then that just means I get to be another one of your firsts," he sang cheekily and Reiya giggled when he nuzzled the side of his head against hers like an affectionate wolf.
They stood like that for a while, basking in each other, their heartbeats syncing and magnified in the silence.
'I love you,' she thought again, and her pulse prickled with the urge to say it to him right then and there. Yet Reiya also knew it was not yet the time, aware that what they had was still as fresh and fragile as a bud. In time, however, she believed it would gradually grow and blossom into something sturdy, with deep roots and a resilient stalk. She could barely wait to say those precious words to him by then.
"Jiro-kun?" she called softly.
His low, velvety voice seemed to come from far away. "Yeah?"
Reiya closed her eyes. "I want to be with you."
His hand slowed to a stop around the back of her head and she clutched her hand into his shirt. "I want to experience more with you," she said with gentle persistence. "I wish I met you sooner but I don't mind starting with you now, and I want to be there for you whenever you need me. I can't play the violin anymore, but I want to be able to help you in other ways, so please…Let me be here for you."
Manjiro remained motionless and did not respond for what felt like minutes, but she could feel the fast, hard thumping of his heart against her chest. Reiya wanted to look at him but he kept her head in place, almost as if he didn't want her to see what kind of face he was currently making.
"Jiro-kun?" she called hesitantly.
He released an inaudible sigh and began to detach himself from her, not all at once, but by degrees. A white heavily tinted car appeared by the end of the driveway and his eyes flashed warily as the vehicle passed them by. It eventually disappeared into the distance but the blond remained tense, his fingers almost claw-like as they dug into her hips.
Suddenly the back of Reiya's neck prickled and she shrank back into the protective circle of Manjiro's arms, the two of them standing in mutual unease, mindful of the possibility that they were being watched.
"You should head inside now," he eventually said as he looked down at her with a neutral smile. He let her go but only to guide her back to her apartment, with one arm slung across her back.
Neither said a word until they reached the threshold. Reiya turned and looked up at him, her heart prickling painfully at the look on Manjiro's face. He looked so calm and impersonal, as if he hadn't kissed her senseless just moments ago, so enigmatic and powerful, so breathtakingly beautiful…his pitch-black eyes containing a number of secrets that he just wasn't willing to share.
Reiya had never felt such a strong, all-consuming emotion before and she wanted to wholeheartedly throw herself into it, with trust and pure honesty, things that Manjiro was apparently not yet ready for.
'Very well,' she decided. 'I'll wait until you're ready.' She took his head in her hands and leaned close with her face set in fervent determination, surprising him once again.
"I'll wait for you. And this…" Reiya wrapped her arms around herself, hands grasping lightly over the sturdy material of his denim jacket. "This is staying with me, but not as a keepsake. I'm keeping it until you come back for it, okay?"
'Until you come back for me.'
At first Manjiro was stone-faced, and then the corners of his mouth twitched. Finally he huffed out a genuine, slightly exasperated smile and pulled her close for one last embrace.
"Aaa-ah, so stubborn…You're gonna fuckin' ruin me, Cherry-chan," he muttered softly. "I'm not like you. No matter how many times I try to start over again, it's already too late for me."
He drew back just enough to look at her, their noses nearly touching. He pressed his thumb against her lips when he saw she was about to protest, and smiled. "I don't wanna make promises I can't keep, so I won't, but…"
Manjiro whispered the words in her ear and Reiya sank deeper against him, letting his warmth and words soothe the edges of her anxiety. Their shadows cast a singular form across the ground and for a moment she convinced herself that this was enough, that he was here, that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him, that for now this was everything she could ever want.
He gave her one last kiss on the forehead and walked away while he was still able, and Reiya watched as he donned his helmet on and mounted his Babu with a hint of reluctance.
Manjiro turned to look at her one last time. There were no goodbyes, no more promises. There were only lingering stares of muted longing and the palpable force of words neither of them would ever say out loud for fear of some invisible retaliation.
They parted with small, heartbreakingly tender smiles, and the fragile reassurance that they have the other.
JULY 4, 2017
Reiya woke up with a heavy heart. She slept very late the night before, turning and twisting, plagued with thoughts of Manjiro and the dismal wonderment of when she could see him again. She only managed to fall asleep after dragging his jacket to bed with her, letting his scent lull her into a dreamless slumber.
She began her day like usual, with the addition of tending to her wounded fingers and reinforcing her left hand's splint and cast, before heading out for the Tachibana household. Reiya longed to have someone to talk to after what happened last night, and Mrs. Tachibana, with her insight and experience, was the only one left she could trust with such matters.
The older woman welcomed her with a cheerfulness that Reiya could only allude to the presence of the other person in the house, whose shoes she discovered by the genkan when she went to replace her sandals for indoor slippers.
Sure enough, Tachibana Masato came to greet her afterwards. He looked like the older, much reserved version of Naoto, with his short black hair and astute blue-gray eyes sitting behind a pair of rectangular glasses. He appeared to be stern at first, but in reality he was a mild-mannered man with a quirky sense of humor who loved his family dearly. Losing both his children in one night…the shadows of grief lingered heavily in his gaze.
Mr. Tachibana regarded her in the way he always had, amiable and polite, showing concern and asking about her injury the moment he saw the state of her hand. But at the same time Reiya noticed the odd, unusual restraint in the way he was talking to her at some moments, like he had something urgent to say but was currently at a loss how to convey them.
She would eventually know about it after they discussed the final details concerning the funeral arrangements, after having lunch, soon after she helped Mrs. Tachibana in the kitchen, and very soon after she finally disclosed last night's events with the older woman.
"…I suppose I'm just disappointed with how things turned out," Reiya confessed, the two of them drinking peppermint tea in the dining room while Mr. Tachibana holed up in his office. "It's clear that we both like each other, but it also looks like he doesn't want to continue what we have...Something about his work keeping him away, and that it's going to be dangerous if I get involved with him."
"And he didn't tell you what it is?" Mrs. Tachibana inquired gently as she took up her yunomi.
"Only a handful of vague details," Reiya replied with a small frown. "I tried asking him, but he wouldn't tell me. Which leads me to think that maybe he's involved with a dangerous crowd."
"Oh, dear…" the older woman murmured behind her cup before taking a sip and setting it down on the table. "But I must say…it's quite noble of him for making his intentions clear concerning your safety as early as now."
Reiya tried hiding her expression by looking down on her cup. Mrs. Tachibana gave her a sympathetic look and reached for her hand, sliding a gentle palm over her right wrist.
"I'm sorry that it had to be this way, Reiya-chan…but if his work is as dangerous as he says, I think it's for the better that you stop seeing each other."
She recognized the truth in the older woman's words, of course, but that didn't stop them from feeling like shards of ice piercing through her chest. An even painful truth was that part of her reached that very same conclusion already, that perhaps it was a good thing nothing officially started between her and Manjiro if he was just going to push her away in the end.
But then she remembered the last words he whispered in her ear…
Reiya took up her cup and sighed. "I know, auntie…I've only known him for a day, but I know that he must've had a good reason for not wanting to see me again." She took a quick sip and paused, fixing her gaze into the dark swirling liquid that mirrored her miserable smile. "But I don't think I'll ever forget about him. I don't think I can ever accept…why he chose to stay away from me and what we could've had…"
"Perhaps I can shed some light as to why that particular young man isn't willing to see you again, Reiya-chan."
Startled, the two women immediately turned to where Mr. Tachibana stood. He was standing by the doorway, holding a brown envelope in one hand and wearing a grim expression on his face.
"Dear," Mrs. Tachibana uttered in a gently chiding tone. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Just now." Mr. Tachibana walked into the room and joined them at the table, giving his wife an apologetic glance as he sat in one of the chairs directly facing Reiya. "Forgive me, I couldn't help overhearing the last part of your conversation, which finally gives me the opportunity to talk to you about something, Reiya-chan. Something incredibly important."
Mrs. Tachibana glanced from her husband's drawn face to Reiya's worriedly expectant one, then back to her husband again before rising out of her chair. "I better leave you two alone, then."
Mr. Tachibana reached for her hand and pressed a light kiss on the back of her fingers, murmuring he'd tell her all about it later. She gave him a nod, cast a small encouraging smile towards Reiya, and promptly swept out of the room with her teacup.
Left alone with the black-haired man and his solemn countenance, Reiya felt her nerves crawl with trepidation as the dining room's cozy ambiance abruptly bled into the cold sterile atmosphere of an interrogation room.
"What is it, uncle?" she brought herself to ask.
Mr. Tachibana drew in a tense breath and laid the brown envelope on the table. "I'll get to the point. You were seen with Toman's commander last night."
It felt like the entire world got knocked off its orbit.
Hands tightening around her yunomi, Reiya could only manage a faint, "What?"
Mr. Tachibana extracted a number of photographs from the envelope and arranged them in a neat, horizontal line across the table. No two photographs were the same. They differed in location, time, and the number of people in each photo. The only thing they had in common was the subject: the striking figure of a blond young man with a dragon tattoo on the left side of his neck.
As her eyes darted from one photograph to the other, Reiya's heart thundered with punishing force. The silky pale blond hair, the sharp obsidian eyes, the hard angelic face…
It was Manjiro, but at the same time she didn't recognize him. The man in the photographs looked cold and disturbingly cruel. He looked capable of doing unspeakable things her Manjiro would never do.
"This is Sano Manjiro, or widely known as 'Mikey' in the underworld. He is the founding commander of the Tokyo Manji Gang and a highly dangerous individual that even we of the MPD have trouble dealing with. We've been keeping a close eye on him for years, but every time we thought we finally had the drop on him he vanishes into thin air."
Mr. Tachibana spoke with measured slowness, giving her time to absorb the information but Reiya could barely hear the words over the horror that petrified her. The color had completely drained from her face as she realized how everything finally made sense now. Manjiro's evasiveness, how he barely talked about himself, the sense of impenetrability underneath his engaging manner, and keeping her at arm's length…
The speed at which these jarring revelations came hurtling at her was making her head hurt.
"Sano is extremely meticulous with his activities," the black-haired man resumed, his eyes weary but alert. "He doesn't linger in one place for too long and very little is known of his private life. So when we got wind of him being in Kawasaki our scouts immediately tracked him down. Suffice it to say, we were surprised to find him in an intimate situation with a civilian."
Reiya froze. Mr. Tachibana took one last photo from the envelope and showed it to her. This time, it was a slightly blurry image of Manjiro and a black-haired woman with their arms around each other. The shot was taken from an angle that showcased both of their side profiles, indisputably capturing the soft, adoring looks on their faces.
She couldn't help from wincing and flushing deeply at seeing the image. At the same time, her stomach grew cold and hollow at the evidence that someone, possibly a number of someones, had been watching them all along after all.
"This is you, isn't it, Reiya-chan?"
Reiya closed her eyes with a pained breath and sought refuge in her teacup. "Yes. I was with him last night, but all we did was have dinner and then we went to the park."
'And then he brought me home and kissed the life out of me an—wait.' Reiya blanched. 'Did they see that, too!?'
"But you didn't know he was affiliated with Toman until now, isn't that right?" Mr. Tachibana clarified.
The pang of blistering mortification wilted into numbing despair. "I've had my suspicions," she answered quietly. "We happened to talk about Toman and some of his reactions told me he was involved with them in some way, but I've never imagined he would actually be the commander of the gang responsible for…for what happened to Hina-chan and Naoto-kun."
Mr. Tachibana laced his hands together on the table and slowly nodded his head, or it would have been a nod if he didn't keep his head down. He wore the desolate look of a man who was being forced to accept the abrupt and unfair nature of his losses.
In the silence that followed, Reiya was also becoming aware to the state of her own tangled-up emotions. Her mind was in circles, and she could barely breathe underneath the weight of it all. She brought herself to look at the pictures again and listlessly perused them, lingering on a particular photo that featured a close-up of Manjiro's side profile. He was wearing a black high-collared jacket that partially hid his dragon tattoo, with his hair slicked back and his pitch-black eyes glaring at the camera.
Reiya wasn't aware she had reached for it until she saw her own finger touching his cheek. Manjiro looked so ruthless in the photo, his eyes hard and emotionless. And yet these were the very same eyes that had looked at her with gentleness and warmth, eyes that conveyed genuine guilt when he heard about Hina and Naoto's deaths. Such lonely, expressive eyes…that contained a tender fire when he told her he would never hurt her.
"I could hardly believe my eyes seeing you and Sano together," Mr. Tachibana commented suddenly, studying her with a touch of mild skepticism. "I never thought he was capable of making such a face, or you, for that matter. When did it start?"
"Barely a day," Reiya answered abashedly as she gingerly removed her hand from the photo. "I just met him two days ago, actually…"
Mr. Tachibana's expression changed. "Oh?"
And so Reiya told him about how they met, about how he found her in the middle of nowhere when she mourned Hina and Naoto's deaths. She told him about how Manjiro didn't take advantage of her, about how he treated her wounds, both literally and metaphorically. And as she did, Reiya found herself growing more confident in Manjiro, her feelings for him clearer and stronger than ever before.
He may be the leader of Tokyo's most vicious gang but he wasn't completely a monster. He was simply a man. A man who likes taiyaki and had a sweet tooth, who calls his motorbike Babu, and who likes going to the harbor just to look at grand factories up close. He was a man with his own share of demons, a man who carried an excruciating weight on his shoulders, and a man who said she was strong.
"Uncle Masato…" Reiya began with difficulty, torn between her loyalty for the Tachibana family and the desire to vouch for the one she loves. "This may sound incredibly discourteous of me, but I…I don't think Manjiro-kun had anything to do with Hina-chan and Naoto-kun's incident."
Mr. Tachibana's eyes narrowed. "I am aware of that."
At her astonished reaction, the black-haired man sighed and pinned her with a resigned look that conveyed he already expected the sentiment. His hand moved over to a specific photo which showed Manjiro with a number of other men in what appeared to be a private bar booth.
Reiya leaned slightly in her seat, noting that the men around Manjiro possibly comprised Toman's upper echelon judging from their clothes and the way they presented themselves.
"Sano is the founding commander, and while he wields considerable authority within Toman, the one who runs the whole thing like a show is none other than him." Mr. Tachibana stabbed a finger on a particular bespectacled man seated on Manjiro's right and said, "Kisaki Tetta."
With a gasp, Reiya shot out of her seat and leaned over the table to get a better look.
Mr. Tachibana raised an incredulous brow. "What is it?"
It took a while for Reiya to speak. She didn't know why, but she felt sick to her guts the longer she stared at Kisaki Tetta's face. There was something unnervingly compelling about him, in a way that reminded her how one couldn't look away from an impending disaster. He was smiling widely in the photograph and the sight of it made her insides recoil at how malicious it looked.
If Manjiro looked detached and uncaring then Kisaki was the exact opposite. He looked like a demon in his element, a truly heartless man who wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice innocent lives for his own benefit.
Reiya worked her throat before answering, forcing the words out and trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Uncle…before Hina-chan died, she wanted to talk to me about something and she mentioned the name Kisaki."
The black-haired man's eyes grew wide with alarm. "What else did she say?" he prompted.
"That they knew each other from cram school in elementary and that they used to go home together until middle school. And now he suddenly showed up but Hina-chan never got to tell me what happened, and she was supposed to, but she died before she could tell me what it was…and Hina-chan sounded uneasy talking about him for some reason." She held Mr. Tachibana's disbelieving gaze with an agitated stare of her own. "Uncle…If this Kisaki Tetta is the very same one Hina-chan knew back then, then I have no doubts that he's involved with her death. It wasn't just an accident."
Mr. Tachibana looked positively overwhelmed. He sank back in his chair, took his glasses off and promptly smothered a palm against his eyes. Reiya kept her eyes fixed on Kisaki, her heart pounding with a surge of anger that threatened to rob her of breath. She was so very tired of hating what and who she couldn't do anything about, but right now she couldn't stop from feeling that way towards the man who was possibly behind Hina and Naoto's deaths, a man who Hina called a friend.
"This changes things…" Mr. Tachibana said after a long moment. He heaved a sigh and replaced his glasses. "For one thing, Kisaki is practically untouchable. He's even harder to track and he has friends in high places. In most cases, he's even worse than Sano. If it wasn't for him…Toman probably wouldn't become the violent gang it is today."
Reiya sat back down in her own chair and absently lifted her yunomi to her mouth, taking a bracing swallow and sighing through her nose as the warm liquid slid down to the sullen pit of her stomach. She closed her eyes against a twinge of yearning, wrapped around a tendril of relief.
'I know this doesn't change the fact that he hurt a lot of other people…but Jiro-kun is different from Kisaki. I wonder what could've happened in the past for Toman to turn out like this...'
She opened her eyes to see Mr. Tachibana begin to retrieve the photographs. Reiya helped him with the ones closest to her, the two of them silent and lost in their own thoughts. She stole a quick, wistful glance at Manjiro's pictures before handing them over. The black-haired man didn't miss it. He slid the pictures back into the envelope and regarded her with frowning concern.
"Reiya-chan…Sano may not have a hand in this incident, but that doesn't make him less of a criminal. Nothing good could ever come out of having an attachment to him," Mr. Tachibana said, but not without sympathy. "And Sano himself knows it best."
Reiya lowered her head in defeat. The truth of it nearly undid her. Pain unfolded in her chest, but she forced herself to meet Mr. Tachibana's eyes and managed a small, hopeless smile.
"Yes, uncle…I understand."
Willing herself to move was like wading through waist-deep water. Reiya left the Tachibana household in the afternoon in spite of their insistence that she stay for dinner, needing some time for herself. She knew they only had her best interests at heart, but she just wasn't able to completely heed their concerns about Manjiro.
She tried to contact him on the way back, sent him a quick text asking about how he was, but when she actually tried calling him the line on the other end was dead.
'Of course,' taunted the cynical part of her mind that already saw this development coming. A chilling numbness came over her after that, and she clung to the sense of detachment until she finally reached the confines of her apartment.
There, the veneer of emotionless self-possession began to crack. Reiya changed into a sleeveless gray-colored lounge dress, sat in the middle of her bed with Manjiro's denim jacket in her arms, and with her eyes brimming with unshed tears, she turned her portable speaker on and played Astor Piazzolla's Oblivion.
Her lips trembled, but her face was perfectly blank as tears fell from her eyes in slow, steady drips. Reiya wasn't even certain what to feel. Only that there was a lot, all of them varying in essence and intensity. She held still as she listened, letting the melody wrap her in its poignant, luxuriant embrace as she let her emotions sort themselves in a volatile flow…grief, misery, deprivation and fear…but the one that ultimately pushed through, and shone brilliantly, was love.
Reiya held Manjiro's jacket tighter against herself. She couldn't deny that she was blinded by her feelings for him to care about the repercussions that might come from being involved with him, and yet he was the only one she could ever want.
In just a day, Manjiro was the only one who reached a part of her that she kept hidden for years, the only one who pushed through the loneliness that always held fast inside of her, and he did it so naturally. He found her, literally, and saw her in a way no one else had.
The symphony was reaching a thematic glissando of the violin, stirring precious memories and the words Manjiro said, blending seamlessly into the hauntingly beautiful melody.
"You wouldn't break yourself over it if it didn't."
"Come out when you're ready. Then we can talk, okay?"
"Consider it my thanks for the taiyaki."
"I like your version better."
"From now on, that's who I am to you, okay?"
"You're strong."
"You're at risk the longer you stay with me."
"You played from the heart…and that's enough to reach mine."
"You're gonna fuckin' ruin me…"
"No matter how many times I try to start over again, it's already too late for me."
"Cherry-chan~."
"Cherry-chan…"
And then the last words he said to her, the haunting, unmistakable velvety promise of it…
"You have me."
Reiya pressed the back of her fingers against her lips, recalling the intimate imprint of his kisses. The places he reached out to, the places he kissed and touched began to tingle and ache, as if crying out in anguish at how she'll never get to feel him on her ever again, and Reiya trembled at how acute the pain was, even as her body began to grow warm with yearning.
She closed her eyes and laid down on her side. She knew it was for her own good, but how on earth was she supposed to forget about Manjiro after everything that happened between them?
Reiya stared down at his jacket and smiled bitterly, while her tears spilled faster down her cheeks.
It ended up being a keepsake after all.
Reiya wasn't aware she'd dozed off until she was roused into consciousness by the sound of the doorbell ringing throughout her apartment.
Someone was right outside the door. She stretched and sluggishly slipped out of bed while Piazzolla's Oblivion continued to play in the background, briefly wondering who it could be before stiffening with a quiet gasp.
'Jiro-kun...?'
Reiya hurriedly went to the door after tidying up her appearance. She hadn't even thought of checking her phone to see if Manjiro left a text to let her know if he was coming, her stomach tightening with hot, giddy anticipation as she looked into the door's peephole viewer.
The figure standing outside was a man, but the glow of excitement immediately faded away when Reiya saw that it wasn't Manjiro at all. This man, whoever he was, was dressed in a black suit and wore round-framed glasses. He was incredibly tall and striking, and he could've easily passed off as a regular businessman if it weren't for the blond highlights in his black hair, and the conspicuous strip of golden earring in one ear.
Reiya knew he was a gangster at once. She saw his resemblance with the men Manjiro was seen with in the photographs, making her nerves clamor in rising alarm. What could he possibly want with her? What did he even come there to do? And, more importantly, why was he holding a colorful bouquet of chrysanthemums?
The man must've sensed her presence by the door for he suddenly spoke, his deep, drawling voice nearly making her jump. "Yunagi Reiya-san? I know this is sudden, and I'm sorry if I frightened you, but I'm here because Mikey sent me."
Her breath caught in her throat. 'Mikey…that's Jiro-kun's nickname, isn't it?' Her hand moved to open the door but kept the security chain in place, only allowing a small gap between the door and its frame.
To his credit, the man took a step back as Reiya peeked around the opening. She looked up to meet his gaze and instantaneously felt her skin crawl the second their eyes met. His copper-colored eyes, sharp and unblinking, looked completely devoid of genuine emotions, and yet…It shone with an odd split-second glint the moment he finally saw her.
He gave her a disarming smile that she was sure was supposed to put her at ease, but it only made him look like a wolf in sheep's clothing.
"There you are. It's nice to finally meet you, Yunagi Reiya-san. My name is Hanma."
Reiya kept her expression completely neutral. He might've mentioned Manjiro's nickname but she didn't trust him. He was a Toman member, after all. What could Manjiro possibly be thinking sending a gangster to her apartment?
A thought occurred to her, and she couldn't help from sounding a bit forlorn as she finally spoke to him. "Hanma-san…are you here for Ji-, um…Manjiro-kun's jacket?"
Hanma looked genuinely perplexed by the question. "Oh, no. I'm only here to deliver a message," he replied with a bemused smile. He leaned forward with the bouquet in his tattooed hands; the words Sin on the left and Punishment on the right. "Mikey wanted to give these to you. They're a token of his sentiments."
The bouquet was unexpectedly large up close, consisting of at least three dozens of huge, blossoming chrysanthemums wrapped in stylish pink parchment and a red lace ribbon.
Reiya grew cold the longer she stared at the bouquet. It was beautiful, the flowers full and fresh, and they came in white, pink, yellow, and purple colors. In Japan, Chrysanthemums are highly celebrated flowers, often seen as the symbol of perfection and a representation of the sun. In general, they symbolize happiness, longevity, and luck.
They're also commonly used for funerals.
She felt Hanma's gaze on her face, regarding her in a way she did not like. No doubt he already picked up on her distress.
"You recently lost a friend too, didn't you?" Hanma said, his expression suddenly soft with concern.
Reiya paused and struggled to maintain her composure, feeling the tiniest bit relieved that Manjiro had Hina's death in mind when he decided to give her chrysanthemums.
"Yes…" she answered belatedly, her eyes stinging with the beginning of tears.
Hanma took a step forward and lifted the bouquet up to her eye-level. "Then these are perfect for you. Take them," he insisted gently.
Reiya contemplated the bouquet with a blank, listless stare. Part of her longed to refuse and shut the door in Hanma's face, but the majority of her aching heart already resigned to console herself with whatever Manjiro was willing to give. Although it saddened her that he wouldn't part with her properly in person, she understood why he chose not to come to her.
'I guess…this is for the best.'
Reiya unlatched the security chain and opened the door.
She reached for the bouquet with both hands, and murmured with a self-deprecating smile, "A sentiment of his farewell, huh…"
She had meant it as a quip, so when she heard the bone-chilling sincerity in Hanma's reply, Reiya completely froze.
"That's right."
In the next second Hanma shoved her into the apartment by driving the bouquet into her chest. Reiya choked on impact, momentarily too stunned to move as she realized that something was in the bouquet, something sharp and cold, and that something was now inside of her.
Hanma pulled the door close and slapped his right hand against her mouth before she could even think to scream, a malicious grin splitting across his face as he leaned close and sunk the knife even deeper.
"I call it the bye-bye bouquet special."
Reiya flinched and cried into his palm, every inhalation hurting with a burning sting. She frantically grabbed at his hands, frustration and fear amalgamating with the pain in her chest as it spread all throughout her body like molten spilled acid. She clawed at him, shoved at him, pushing against every biting throb of pain surging everywhere in her splinted hand with every scratch and dig of her bandaged fingers, but she was completely powerless to stop him.
Hanma pushed her against the wall and wrenched the knife out only to thrust it right into the middle of her waist, the cold hard steel plunging straight through her guts to nick her abdominal aorta. Reiya screamed at the liquid explosion of unspeakable agony, a shower of colorful petals falling all around their feet as she struggled, the thin florets of color contrasting sharply with the splattering drops of dark red liquid on the floor.
Hanma muffled her cries with his right hand, clamping it down tighter and tighter against her mouth to smother her, punish her.
And then he released her, carelessly with a cruel abruptness, causing her to crash into a nearby drawer.
Reiya scrambled sluggishly to back up against it, every bit of her instincts screaming to get the hell away from him but she was paralyzed down to the marrow of her bones, her vision swimming with blinding sparks, hot tears springing to her eyes as the acrid stench of liquid rust and crushed chrysanthemums hung thickly in the air.
She could only sit there like a limbless doll, watching numbly as Hanma approached with a satisfied smile on his face.
"I really hate having to dirty my hands like this," he said as he tossed the bloodied bouquet aside and pushed his glasses up with a tattooed hand, "but I reaaaally wanted to meet what kind of woman our dear commander would turn off his phone for. Mikey isn't the kind of guy who regularly gets with women, you see, so to pretend we don't exist just so he could go on a little date with you…"
He paused as Reiya sputtered, her entire body rattling from the force of her agitated breaths. Blood slid into her airways and she wheezed, coughing the warm coppery liquid out in spluttering bursts. Blood dribbled down her chin and she shut her eyes tight, breathing erratically through her nose as she attempted to hold herself together.
A bolt of anger seared through the smothering agony and she cursed herself for believing that Manjiro would ever send someone in his stead. He had no intentions of getting her involved with Toman after all. But the gang had numerous connections all through Tokyo and there were no doubts in her mind that Hanma and other Toman members were probably one of the people who saw them last night.
She lifted her gaze to Hanma's, face contorting painfully and tears falling off her eyes as she glared at him. His lips quirked and he laughed. Clearly he found her defiance amusing, the sound piercing into her like a loop of physical thorns.
But then Hanma's expression cleared, and he looked down at her as if she were something that had stuck on his shoe. "Your relationship with Mikey is a liability to Toman. Now I don't make the rules, but everything, and everyone, who stands in our way will be quickly disposed of. And since you're friends with Tachibana Hinata, Kisaki wanted to get rid of you right away."
If she wasn't feeling so out of breath already, Reiya was certain that what she just heard would've knocked the air out of her.
She gaped at Hanma with wide-eyed disbelief.
"Wh…at…?"
Hanma slipped his hands into his pockets and contemplated her with a nonchalant shrug. "He would've let you off the hook for a few days, give you and Mikey a proper farewell, you know? But since Kisaki lost the only woman he ever loved, he thought Mikey should too." He gave her a mock-pitying pout. "Poor you. This never would've happened if you never met either of them. So unlucky." He clicked his tongue.
Reiya could barely hear the rest of his sentence, her pain-addled mind still hung up on the confirmation that Kisaki really was the one behind Hina and Naoto's deaths.
'He loved Hina-chan? How could he say that when he was the one who killed her! And he wanted Jiro-kun to suffer too? Why!?'
The thought of Kisaki made her seethe. And yet there was no way out of this. No way to escape, no way to survive.
Kisaki had won.
And she was about to die.
Reiya grew very weak now, her strength draining away with the rest of her blood. She felt it steadily ooze out of her in hot, thick rivulets, thoroughly saturating the entirety of her dress and forming a dark red puddle by her sides.
Hanma lowered on his hunches and grinned, his eyes twinkling wickedly behind his glasses. "Any last words, Yunagi-chan~? I can't promise it'll reach Mikey's ears but I'll gladly hear you out," he cooed.
Reiya steeled herself, panting with effort as she looked him straight in the eye while the rest of him turned blurry and unfocused. She huffed out a shaky, bloody exhale, trembling uncontrollably as she reined in all the strength she could muster before giving him the only fight she had left to give.
She gave him her sweetest smile. And to her immense satisfaction, Hanma looked completely immobilized.
"Go to hell."
It was a phrase she'd never said to anyone in her entire life.
Hanma let out a bewildered laugh, looking over her slumping figure with renewed interest. Reiya closed her eyes and finally allowed the rest of her body to hit the floor, finally succumbing to her inevitable fate.
"What a waste…" she heard Hanma murmur.
Suddenly she felt him looming over her, cringing when she felt him whisper into her ear, his voice deep and curious. "Say…Do you really love Mikey?"
Reiya didn't answer, couldn't, but her eyes cracked open at the baffling question, and she didn't have to say anything for he already saw the answer in her eyes.
She clenched her eyes shut, growing nauseous at the thought that this bespectacled psycho was going to be the last person she sees.
Hanma continued to hover over her and seemed to be saying something, but she could no longer comprehend the words.
She lost grip on reality for a moment and there was a seemingly long interminable darkness where Reiya was aware of nothing but the painful cold scourging through her veins, and heard nothing but the slow winding distortions of Oblivion and her own feeble breaths. Still, she was conscious enough to ascertain that Hanma was already gone, leaving her alone to bleed out on the floor of her own home with everyone she held dear being none the wiser.
'Jiro-kun…'
Just the thought of him sparked like a flame in the dark, a tinkling of hope in the deafening silence. It was so strange. Her life was coming to a close but there was no fear, no grief, and not even anger.
There was only heart-wrenching love. Her soul was dissolving in it. There was nothing left but the way he made her feel.
Her only regret was that Manjiro would never get to hear her say how much she loved him.
'I love you…I want…to see you…one more time…' she thought miserably.
Oh, the life they could've had together…to stand side by side no matter what life throws their way. Reiya didn't care if he was a gang leader. She would've done her best to convince him how they would be happier together than apart and she would love him come hell and high water.
He would grieve for her. And thinking about it tore her heart in a way unlike anything before. If only she could spare him the pain. If only she could do something about his burdens. If only…
Reiya summoned him in her mind one last time. The silky blond of his hair and the deep captivating vibrance of his obsidian eyes, the warmth in his touch and the sound of his laughter, his scent and his kisses, his secrets and his words...
And she clung to the waning image of his loving smile as she spiraled into an abyss of complete stillness, where nothing but her dwindling consciousness existed.
It felt like hell...the utter absence of self in the suffocating darkness, her whole entire existence fading away like dust motes in the wind while her failing heart throbbed and echoed with the rhythm of one name…Jiro-kun…Jiro-kun…Manjiro-kun…
But then something buzzed and crackled, and Reiya felt her entire soul flinch when an electrifying shock struck her like lightning.
Everything was suddenly spinning, rushing all through her with a violent intensity, her senses reawakening to a multitude of simulations that sent a rush of adrenaline in her veins. She felt incredibly heavy, her limbs wound tight with the fingers in her left hand tingling from exertion, her chest heaving as it tried to pull air into her lungs, her body laboring without her conscious effort as if it had been that way for a while now.
The darkness was shifting, her consciousness hovering just outside the wretched plane, and just when Reiya thought she was about to take hold of it everything came to a screeching halt.
Her entire body jolted upright with the force of her heartbeat.
And then she heard applause.