Chapter Eleven: Don't Think About It
2015 – Summer
Natsumi wanted to pretend that night never happened. It was a complete disaster, and Hana and Getou both knew too much about her. Things she hadn't wanted anyone to know, that no one alive knew. It was difficult to pretend when she bumped the hip Kazumi bruised, or when she thought she could still feel Getou's hands on her, his lips on hers.
She'd kissed him. She had been crying and drinking and must have tasted like a bar and she had been sweaty from the heat and the dancing. Even discounting everything she knew about him; it was embarrassing to have tried kissing him when she was like that. Especially after he'd known about Kazumi, and of course he must have been horrified and disgusted by the whole thing. But… he'd kissed her back.
It had been a great kiss.
A kiss that didn't matter because it wasn't going anywhere. Getou wouldn't let it and there was nothing she could do, and she didn't want to do anything about it either. If he didn't want her… then that was that. She didn't want someone that didn't want her. There were enough men that did want her, for her body if nothing else, that she didn't need to pine over Getou. She didn't need that added pain of being rejected by him on top of everything else she already felt. She was not going to sit on the floor crying over a man because he'd walked away as if he hadn't kissed her, as if he hadn't pressed his hips against hers while he touched her.
She was trying not to think about it.
Natsumi wished she could say that she did not keep drinking after Getou left. Even more, she wished that she did not sit at the table in her kitchen and cry because he had left. Most of all, she wished that she had not needed to be saved by him. He probably thought that he had saved her from Kazumi, and that was true to a point. It wasn't really Kazumi he had saved her from, it was herself because she had wanted to leave with him. Hadn't she been telling herself that it was, okay? That she could?
Kazumi was right, and it killed her inside to even think those words, but they both knew the truth. She could blame him all she liked but he hadn't forced her, not technically.
There were so many things in her life that she wished she had done differently, and Kazumi was most of them. She wished that when he called her beautiful, she had kept walking. She wished that when he told her she was so special, that she wasn't like the other girls her age, that she had seen it for the lie that it was. She wished that when she finally let him take her to his house, she hadn't taken the drinks he offered. She wished when he told her she could party like an adult or she could go home like a child, that she had gone home. She wished when he asked her to take off her clothes, piece by piece with the promise that he wouldn't ask for more, she had realized what he really wanted, what he had always wanted from her. She wished she had told him no, but she was drunk, and she was scared, and she did not want to go home.
How different would her life have been if she had just gone home? How different would her life have been if that had been the last time she went to his house? Because she didn't have to go back, did she? Maybe if it was just that once she could believe it wasn't her fault. Maybe she wouldn't have to repeat the words until her lips were numb and they lost all meaning.
Kazumi ruined her life because she'd let him ruin her life and she would have let him do it again if Getou hadn't been there. Hana was so wrong; the reason did matter. It mattered more than anything else. Sometimes that was the only thing that mattered.
He wasn't even the worst one, because when he got tired of her (and he did get tired of her) and he kicked her out and she'd had nowhere to go, she didn't exactly go home. Natsumi should have just gone home then but it would have been hard, and she hadn't wanted to deal with it. It would have been a conversation, a confrontation with her parents that she had wanted to avoid. She was afraid of the look of disappointment her parents always wore when they looked at her.
She sat and drank at the kitchen table where her parents had decided her future, wishing she had just let them. It was the last thing she could remember thinking before she passed out at that table, too drunk to feel the pain but not nearly enough to bury that itch. Not enough to make her forget how to kill that itch. Not enough to make her forget she always left with Kazumi. Not enough to make her forget that she was still that broken girl who let someone rescue her from her problems.
Natsumi didn't go to work the next day, afraid to see Hana. She didn't want to talk about it, she'd talked about it with Getou already, and… she was afraid. Afraid Hana would see her differently, that Hana would judge her. Afraid Hana would pity her. How funny that she had called Gojou pitiful not that long ago. Now Natsumi was the pitiful one (had always been really, pitiful and pathetic added to that growing list of faults). Even Getou pitied her. Enough to kiss her.
She was trying not to think about it.
The knocking at the door made her jerk awake, light streaming through the window. Natsumi covered her eyes and groaned, it had been a long time since she fell asleep drinking at a table. It wasn't a good sign.
The person knocking persisted, light taps on the door becoming louder and closer together. Her heart filled with dread and her stomach twisted, what if it was Gojou? How would she explain… anything? He knew she drank but she never let anyone see it get this bad, and… he would know about Getou. There was no lie she could think of that would explain it. No excuse that would make it okay. What would she say? That she ran into his friend and said nothing and then begged him to save Sumiko? Would she tell him that she almost went and got high and only didn't because Getou saved her? Would she tell him that she kissed his friend? His friend who she thought was probably a little more than a friend. Saying he'd walked away after, probably wouldn't help.
Natsumi held her head in her hands and tried to breathe slowly, to think clearly. It couldn't be Gojou, he would be screaming her name outside until she answered and if she took too long he would just teleport inside. He would never calmly knock at her door that way. She got up slowly, the room spinning as she did, and made her way to the front door. She didn't know who it could be if it wasn't Gojou, it wasn't as if she had friends who checked up on her and she wasn't close with any of her extended family, most of them didn't even live in Tokyo.
Her heartbeat frantically in her chest, it couldn't be Getou, except… maybe he had come back? Because it was a kiss out of pity, sure, but it had still been a great kiss (but she was trying not to think about it). It was a silly hope to have, a hope that didn't make sense because even if he had come back, then what?
She opened the door without checking, just to stop her mind from wandering, and even if it was a silly hope to have. Her gaze fell several inches (a silly hope was still hope) and she saw Hana, standing on her doorstep.
Natsumi stared blankly, not quite sure what to make of the other woman. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her sweet face open and bright with a kind smile. She wasn't dressed for work, though both their shifts would be starting any minute. Not that Natsumi had intended on going.
"You never texted," Hana said, "and I promised I'd make breakfast." She held her arms out, full of plastic bags and Natsumi could see the red lines from where they had dug in. Hana didn't have a car and she must have taken the train and walked the rest of the way here. To make breakfast. To check on her.
She didn't deserve it.
Her eyes filled with tears, "It's fine, Hana, you don't… you don't have to do that."
"I want to," she insisted, "and I think… I think you need someone here."
"I'm fine, Hana."
"No," she argued, "you need someone here, and Sumiko is still away, right?"
The tears spilled over, running down her face, "I don't need you to babysit me. I'm fine. I'm okay, I just –"
"If you're okay, then why do you smell like a bar?"
Natsumi took a step back from the open door, even if her tone was sympathetic the words still stung. "I'm… I don't… It's too hard," she whispered, "You have no idea, how hard it is. I tried to… I can't."
Hana took the opportunity to step inside the house, shooing Natsumi so she could close and lock the door. "You have a nice house," she commented off-handedly, taking off her shoes while still balancing the plastic bags on her arms. She stuck her feet in the guest slippers, before walking out into the living area. "Where's your – Oh! Found it."
Natsumi watched as Hana turned towards the kitchen and heard the rustle of the bags as she set them on the counter and the opening and closing of cabinets. How did Hana even know where she lived?
"Do you like fish? I like grilled fish for breakfast with some miso, but I bought a ton of stuff. I figured we could go traditional, you know?"
Finally, Natsumi stepped forward and was grateful she'd had the thought to take her heels off while she'd cried on the floor before moving to the table to resume her misery. Hana was still opening cabinets, pulling out pots and pans, and putting away the groceries she'd brought with her.
"I'm glad I brought stuff. Do you live on junk food?"
"I make real food when Sumiko's here," she mumbled, "but yeah, I don't… I don't cook for myself much."
When she made her way into the kitchen, the shame washed over as she stared at the liquor bottle on the table. There wasn't even a glass there, she had been drinking straight out of the bottle and well passed the very visible lines she'd made with a marker. She couldn't think of a good explanation, an excuse that wouldn't sound like one. No one ever saw this part of her, not since Ichiro had died. She was still crying, the tears slipping down her face, and she still wanted to drink. Even with Hana here.
Hana glanced at Natsumi and the almost empty bottle sitting on the table. "My sister is an addict."
Natsumi forced herself to look away from the bottle, to look at Hana and her green eyes and soft smile. Hana was sweet and kind and came here to make her breakfast and she was still thinking about drinking. "That's… rough."
"It is," Hana said, "but, she's in recovery. She's only relapsed once in the last five years, and… it wasn't as bad as it could have been. She's married now and has a steady job and she's thinking about having a kid one day. She goes to therapy and she's… she's happy."
"Good for her." She sounded bitter, even to her own ears, but she didn't love where this conversation was going.
Hana sighed, "We don't have to talk about it, Natsumi. We can if you want, I'm… I'm here, but… we don't have to. If you're not ready to talk about it, we can just have breakfast and hang out."
"We have work," Natsumi said. She would rather go to work hung over and emotionally wrecked than have Hana witness this part of Natsumi.
Hana grinned wide, "Nope. I got Mitsuki to take my shift and Ryou to take yours, we have the whole day to do absolutely nothing."
"Why did you do that?"
"Because… I think you needed it and I think you're too stubborn to let anyone help you. Even at work you never… you never let anyone help you. I knew you shouldn't come in after last night, and that you wouldn't ask anyone, so I did it for you."
Natsumi put her face in her hands and tried to stop crying, because wasn't it just so familiar? There was always someone saving her from herself even when they didn't realize it. Ichiro, Aiko, Gojou, Getou, Hana, the list went on and on. She couldn't even find it in herself to be grateful for them, just angry and bitter that she needed someone to save her. Hadn't Ichiro died with her resenting him? For so many reasons but saving her… saving her was certainly on the list.
Thin arms wrapped around her, pulling her close and she let herself be held, leaning her head against Hana's shoulder. Natsumi cried openly as Hana rubbed soothing circles on her back, the way her mother used to do, the way Natsumi had done for Gojou. All she could think was how she didn't deserve it, the kindness, or the sympathy because she had done this to herself. Her parents had set out a good life for her, and she ran away because she didn't want it and made her life a mess instead. Kazumi helped ruin her life, but she'd let him.
But… Natsumi was selfish and she wanted the comfort she was offering. And why was it okay for her to be there for Gojou but not let anyone be there for her? Why couldn't she just let them care about her? She knew the answer because this wasn't the first time that she'd had this argument with herself. They would leave, and they would die, and it would all go away. Everyone she loved or let love her ended up dead. People who were too good to die and deserved so much better than the deaths they'd had.
Her first love (her only love) died alone and in pain.
Her parents died in a car crash while their daughter was writing a suicide note.
Her brother died in an ambulance with strangers, not with the family he loved so much.
Aiko died in an operating room while her daughter sat in a waiting room.
Natsumi hugged Hana tightly, she didn't want Hana to die, and she didn't want to be alone, and it was so selfish to let her do this. Hana with her pretty green eyes and sweet face that reminded her too much of a dead girl.
"My brother helped me get sober," Natsumi gasped out, "but I couldn't… I thought I could drink and not do drugs."
"That's not how it works," Hana said, not an ounce of judgment in her tone.
"I don't… I don't want to need someone to help me all the time, to come save me from myself. It's so fucking pathetic," her shoulders shook, and she could feel Hana's shoulder becoming damp with her tears but she couldn't stop.
"My sister had to go through the same thing, and she… she only got sober because people helped her. You can't do it by yourself, no one can. No one is supposed to do it all on their own. It's okay to need help, Natsumi."
It wasn't just the green eyes and the sweet smile, but the kindness Hana seemed to have without really trying. She just was. "You remind me of someone I knew, a long time ago," Natsumi whispered through her tears.
Hana patted her back while she cried, "Is that why you used to avoid me?"
Natsumi tensed at the accusation. "I didn't avoid you."
She laughed gently, and Natsumi was so relieved that Hana didn't have a dead girl's laugh. "Yes, you did. When I first started you couldn't even look me in the eyes."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not upset about it, and you got over it pretty quickly," Hana said. "Why don't you go get in the shower and I'll make breakfast, okay?"
Natsumi dropped her arms from Hana and pulled away, glancing briefly at the bottle on the table as she did. She tried to pretend she didn't, to wipe her face on her sleeve but Hana noticed and touched Natsumi's arm gently. "It's okay, just… go shower and let me help you, okay?"
Natsumi nodded, the guilt and the shame still sitting in her skin, and she wanted to drown it, but Hana was here. She couldn't move, because she knew when she left Hana would dump that bottle, and she should dump and Natsumi should let her but… but she needed it. Needed it to feel okay.
"It's… everything is too hard, without… I need to drink so I can feel okay."
"Natsumi… can you honestly say that you feel okay right now?"
She folded her arms in front of her, digging her nails into her skin. No, she didn't feel okay, and it was hard to remember the last time she had actually felt that way. She'd almost left with Kazumi, and she felt like that fraying thread she clung so desperately to was about to snap. It would have snapped if Hana and Getou hadn't been there. She'd kissed him. Knowing how much he meant to Gojou and… she had kissed him anyway.
No, she wasn't okay, and she hadn't been okay for a long time. But it was wrong, so wrong to let Hana do this. It was her problem, her mess, shouldn't she be the one to fix it?
Hana patted Natsumi's shoulder, a gentle touch that reminded her of her mother, and turned her around towards the hallway, "Go shower, breakfast will be ready when you're done."
She nodded, and did as Hana asked, even if it was selfish, even if she didn't deserve it, even if it was just today, she would let Hana take care of her because she didn't feel okay.
After she showered, Natsumi went back to the kitchen and saw the bottle on the table was gone. She had peeked at the trash can, only to find empty bottles. It made her squirm a little, and she recognized most of them. Hana was good at finding hiding places, she'd even found the one she'd hidden in a cereal box that no one else ate.
Natsumi sat and ate breakfast with her and tried not to think of the bottles she knew Hana had missed.
Hana stayed the night, which was odd for Natsumi because she'd never brought anyone over, not since she was a teenager. It was different from when Gojou stayed the night, those were more out of convenience and obligation, and with Hana… it felt more like a sleepover. She felt too old to have a sleepover, but then she was also too old to let someone take care of her the way Hana was.
For the most part, Hana did all the talking, though not in the rambling sort of way that Natsumi had a tendency to do. It was just someone sharing stories, about her ex-boyfriend, about her family, about her sister. The sister was a recovering drug addict who was doing her best. Hana… wasn't preachy about it and wasn't using it as an example to shame Natsumi into getting it together. Hana was far too kind for that.
Natsumi wasn't sure how it happened, it probably had to do with Hana sharing stories about her family and the old movies they were watching. Movies that she remembered watching with her family when she was still young before she tried to be as uninvolved as possible. At some point through the night, she'd let Hana drag out the photo albums from the bookshelf in the living room. There were bookshelves that lined the walls on either side of the TV, and they were filled with movies, CDs, and family albums. Some of the albums were her mother's but some had come from Ichiro and Aiko's house.
"Your hair was so short!" Hana exclaimed when she went through one of Aiko's albums, filled with pictures from their wedding.
Natsumi nodded as she looked over Hana's shoulder, trying to ignore the itch in her skin and the twinge of pain in her chest. "Yeah, I kept it pretty short all through high school too. I… I only started growing it out after I graduated," she tugged at the ends of her hair.
Kazumi had liked her long hair, on days when he was kind, he would run his fingers through it and tell her how beautiful she was. She did not like to think about the days when he was not kind, the way he'd grab a handful of her hair and hurt her. Her hip ached, and it wasn't the first time he'd left bruises on her, but it would be the last. She hoped.
"You know… I used to cut hair, not professionally or anything just for fun. I got pretty good at it though," Hana said, eyes lingering on the way Natsumi was tugging at her hair. "I could cut it for you if you want."
"You don't have to do that."
"Well, I know that. I'm offering it because I don't mind, besides I like cutting hair. I used to do my sisters all the time. Do you have a good pair of scissors? I can use kitchen shears, but it won't come out as nice."
Natsumi had gotten haircuts since Kazumi, but it was always just a trim. She'd worn her hair this way for so long, that she'd almost forgotten she had done it for Kazumi in the first place. It was halfway down her back now and… and she wanted a change. She wanted to be different, to feel different, even if it was just her appearance. Even if nothing else changed.
"Yeah, I do."
It took a while to find them, but eventually, she found them tucked away in a cabinet under the kitchen sink. It was probably the first place she should have looked, but it was funny the things that she forgot about her family. Natsumi spent a lot of time caught up on the way her parents always made her feel, that she forgot things about them. Now, with Hana turning her head this way and that, chatting idly and cutting her hair… she remembered her mother doing the same thing for her, a long time ago.
She tried not to think about it.
Hana only stayed over one night, but over the next couple of days that followed they built a sort of routine. For the next few days, they worked the same shifts so Natsumi picked Hana up before and dropped her off at home after. Mitsuki didn't miss the change between them, the way Hana watched Natsumi (though she wished she wouldn't).
"Seriously? You're really not going to tell me what happened," Mitsuki eyed them carefully, dark eyes full of distrust as she stared them down. They stood outside a restaurant a block from where they worked, waiting for the food to be brought out.
Natsumi sighed, "There's nothing to tell."
"Whatever," Mitsuki rolled her eyes at Natsumi and turned her gaze on Hana, "so are you coming out or not?"
"I was actually going to ask Natsumi if I could go to her house," Hana looped her arm through Natsumi's and looked up at her expectantly.
Natsumi barely opened her mouth to speak when Mitsuki interrupted her. "Ugh, she can come too, I guess."
"We don't always have to go out, we can just hang out and watch movies together!" Hana was enthusiastic so she didn't argue but the last thing she wanted to do was bring Mitsuki to her house to watch movies.
"Yeah, no thanks," Mitsuki deadpanned, pulling her dark hair back into a ponytail. "It's so hot, why are we even out here?"
"I'm out here because I'm waiting for my food. I have no idea why you're here," Natsumi said, trying not to sound as irritated as she felt. It was hot and humid, which was a lot more bearable with the haircut Hana had given her, but it still clung uncomfortably to the back of her neck. She ran her fingers through it, still trying to get used to the way it hovered around her shoulders.
"You're such a bitch."
"Ditto."
Hana sighed, "Please don't fight. I swear you two would get along if you would just – "
"Whatever," Mitsuki dismissed, "what are you two even going to be doing?"
"Watching old movies."
Hana clapped her hands together, "Natsumi has the best movie collection."
Really half of the movies belonged to or were gifts from Tsumiki, but Natsumi didn't feel like getting into the details about who Tsumiki was, or how intertwined her life was with Gojou. They had seen him on occasion throughout the years, but only in passing and they didn't know he was any more than Sumiko's teacher. Hana had already seen too much of her life, had too many pieces of her and she wanted to keep what little was left to herself.
"I don't want to sit inside and watch movies," Mitsuki argued. "Plus, I already told Ryou about it and if you don't go then it'll be just the two of us."
Natsumi rolled her eyes. As if that would be a real issue for Mitsuki, everyone knew Mitsuki had a thing for Ryou.
"No, I don't want to just ditch Natsumi."
Mitsuki whined, "Hana, seriously? She's fine. Right, Natsumi?"
They hadn't discussed it, but she would much prefer to hang out with Hana than go home to an empty house. She had managed not to drink the last few days, but it was difficult, and she smoked more cigarettes than she cared to admit. Natsumi glanced at Hana, arms still looped together. "I'll be fine by myself." She hoped it wasn't a lie (she still knew the bottles were that Hana missed, but it was on the list of things she wasn't thinking about).
Hana looked away from Natsumi, "No, I don't feel like going out anyway."
Natsumi raised a brow at her, apparently, Hana was a bad liar. It wasn't surprising given how kind Hana was, but what was surprising was that she was lying in the first place. Maybe it shouldn't have been after the way Hana had gone out of her way to try to take care of Natsumi, to be there and be supportive. The guilt settled in the pit of her stomach; she didn't want Hana to feel obligated to be around Natsumi. It wasn't Hana's job to fix her, and this... this is why she shouldn't have let her help because now Hana felt like she had to keep helping.
"It's Friday night, you should go with Mitsuki and Ryou," Natsumi smiled down at Hana, forced her face into sincerity, and hoped Hana didn't look too closely.
"See? She's fine, let's just – Oh, that man is so hot," she exclaimed, angling her head to look over Natsumi's shoulder. As much as Mitsuki liked Ryou, she was always on the hunt for the next best thing, partly because everyone except Ryou knew that Mitsuki liked him.
"Mitsuki," Hana whispered, "he'll hear you."
"Good, I hope he does," Mitsuki flattened her palms against her skirt, smoothing the wrinkles. She plastered a pretty smile on her face and waved, "Hey!"
Hana tightened her hold on Natsumi's arm, "What if he's a creep?"
"No one that hot is a creep," Mitsuki whispered.
The last thing she wanted to do was witness Mitsuki's terrible flirting, but Natsumi couldn't just leave. She was still waiting for her food, and she knew Hana wouldn't leave Mitsuki, just like she hadn't wanted to leave Natsumi. Hana could be right; the guy could be a creep and Natsumi didn't really feel like dealing with the potential guilt of seeing Mitsuki's face all over the news.
"Is that you, Matsuda?"
Natsumi whipped around, jostling Hana as she pulled her arm away from her. She turned just in time to see Getou leaning away from Mitsuki who was standing far too close to him. He was… he was dressed differently, in a pair of dark jeans (apparently, he did own another pair of pants) and a black shirt. He was smiling too widely, and Mitsuki was taking it as an invitation, but Natsumi could see the tightness in his jaw. She knew he was doing all he could not to grind his teeth and openly scowl at the woman.
"You know Natsumi?" Mitsuki raised her brows, looking at the shocked expression on her face. "Oh, you are such a liar, you do have a boyfriend! I knew it!"
"I don't have – He is not – It's not… He's just – " Natsumi didn't even know how to finish the sentence, unable to think of an accurate description that didn't have Mitsuki spreading around more gossip at work.
Getou used the distraction to take a step back from Mitsuki and he turned his eyes on Natsumi. He tilted his head, lips turned down in a frown (lips that she'd kissed only a few days ago, but she wasn't thinking about that, no, not at all). "You cut your hair."
She looked at anywhere that wasn't his face, she could already feel the heat spreading across her face. If she looked at him, then she would look at his eyes and she was more afraid of what she would find now than she ever had been before. "Well… uh, yeah. I cut it after… you know… because… yeah." Natsumi would never claim to be articulate, but she couldn't remember ever sounding quite so stupid.
"So, Natsumi, who's your friend?" Mitsuki smiled wide, looking far too much like the Cheshire cat.
"He's… this is," Natsumi waved her hand around, "we have a… uh, a mutual friend. Friend of a friend, you know?"
"We just always seem to run into each other." He was teasing her, laughing at her, never with her because she was a monkey, and he'd kissed her back, but he'd walked away as if it hadn't mattered at all.
Because it didn't matter, and she was still trying not to think about it.
"We work really close," Mitsuki said, the sweetness in her voice made Natsumi want to gag. "One of the restaurants a few blocks away, the one right across from the Italian place." She was batting her eyelashes at Getou and behaving far too much like the nurse from the hospital. How was Mitsuki even still alive if she just told strange men on the street where she worked?
"I didn't realize you worked around here."
Natsumi shrugged, looking at Hana next to her instead of at Getou because there was nothing to say, no reason for him to be here. Hana's eyes darted between them; her eyebrows furrowed as if she was concentrating. Suddenly a smile spread across her face and her eyes lit up, "You know, I was the one who cut her hair. I think I did a great job. What do you think?"
She changed her mind, she hated Hana. Hated her so much she was tempted to push her in the street.
"It's… nice."
Natsumi wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. Nice. It was almost as bad as when he'd called her decent and if there had been any doubt before that he had kissed her out of pity, there wasn't now. He was lonely and she'd been emotional. It had been a mistake, and if he would just go away, she could go back to pretending it didn't happen (not that it was going so well).
"I think so too," Hana said, "we were just out here bothering Natsumi while she was waiting on her food. You can wait with us if you want."
"You don't bother me, Hana. Just Mitsuki," Natsumi lied (usually this was true, at this particular moment she wanted to shove them both into the street). She ignored the dramatic gasp from Mitsuki, it wasn't a secret they didn't like each other, the shock must be for Getou's benefit.
Natsumi chanced a look at Getou, he seemed just as entertained with the theatrics as Natsumi was. Their eyes met for only a second before Natsumi looked away hurriedly. "Are you free tonight, Matsuda?"
"No."
"Yes, she is," Hana rushed out, Natsumi pulled her arm away from her and tried not to look horrified. "We were going to watch movies together, but Mitsuki really wants me to go out with her. Maybe you should join her, so she doesn't have to be alone." Hana smiled and winked at Natsumi. She thought she was helping.
Natsumi was screaming internally, crossing her arms in front of her and staring pointedly at a sign across the street. "Well, I still have to drive you home, Hana."
"No, Mitsuki can take me home. We'll probably get ready at my house anyway," Hana was grinning, her eyes darting between Getou and Natsumi. "You should spend time with your friend." She did all but put air quotes around the word.
"I'm sure he has other things to –"
"Actually, Matsuda," and she could hear the edge of a laugh in his voice, "I am… exceptionally bored."
Hana practically swooned, ecstatic because she'd never seen Natsumi with anyone and she was… she was a good friend to be supportive of what she thought was going on. All she saw was an attractive man asking if Natsumi was free for the night.
Maybe she could push them all into the street at the same time because Mitsuki had called him over, Hana was being oblivious and Getou was being exceptionally cruel. She kissed him, and he thought it was funny. It was bad enough that he'd walked away, she didn't need him to mock her. If he had wanted to see her, he wouldn't have left or he would have explained or something. Part of her wanted to cry and part of her wanted to scream and part of her wanted to drink half a bottle so she didn't think about the way she felt when he'd stopped touching her.
"Okay, well, as fun as this whole thing is," Mitsuki said, "if you're coming out, then let's go. She's got her 'friend'," and Mitsuki actually did use air quotations, (Natsumi added this to her long list of reasons she did not like her), "and Ryou said he was going to meet us there."
"Okay," Hana looked in Natsumi's eyes and her smile faltered for a moment. Mitsuki tapped her foot impatiently, but Hana didn't even look her way. "Are… are you okay with that?" She stood on tip toes to whisper in Natsumi's ear, "You were blushing, so I thought maybe you liked him, but I can stay if you want me to."
Natsumi's didn't blush. Hadn't blushed in years, and was that why she always felt so hot? Had she been blushing this entire fucking time? The embarrassment reached new heights and she thought she might get sick in the street, no wonder Getou was laughing at her.
"It's fine," she mumbled, because Hana really did believe she was helping, and she'd told Hana that she trusted Getou. It wasn't Hana's fault and… she deserved to have fun, not be stuck babysitting Natsumi just because she'd seen her at a low point. It wasn't her fault that Natsumi had no self-control. "Do you still want me to pick you up on Monday?" she smiled at her, the way she knew convinced people she was okay. She had been too drunk when they had run into Kazumi and it hadn't worked.
Hana smiled back and Natsumi knew that this time it did work, "Yeah, if you don't mind. If you come early enough you can come in and have breakfast."
Mitsuki linked their arms together, scrunching her face at the thought of Hana's cooking (Mitsuki had been right, it did kind of suck). "Let's go, already!"
"I'll see you on Monday!" Hana raised her voice as Mitsuki started half dragging her down the street. "Call me if you need anything!"
Natsumi waved and watched their figures retreat into the distance, refusing to look at Getou even after they were long gone. Why was he even here? So, what if Mitsuki called him over, that didn't mean he actually had to do it. How did he even know it was her? She'd cut her hair and… did he really recognize her from the back?
"Are you upset Matsuda?"
"No."
"You seem… upset."
"I'm not," she muttered, and she was so very tempted to just leave. The way he had before, the way he should be now. "Why are you here?"
"I've been banished from my own home."
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and saw the familiar amused expression on his face. "I don't know what that means."
"The girls decided they were having a sleepover, and I was kicked out," he laughed, and she didn't like the way it made her stomach flutter.
"A sleepover? How – You know what, never mind." It wasn't her business, and she wasn't going to have this conversation. He said he found her entertaining, well then, she would stop giving him entertainment. Getou would get bored, and leave, and they would stop running into each other at some point. It would all go back to the way it was before and she would forget all about the kiss that didn't mean anything.
"You are upset."
Natsumi dug her fingernails into her arms, still crossed in front of her chest. She turned her back to him, facing the door to the restaurant and really how long did it take? Maybe she should leave without the food.
"Are you ignoring me, Matsuda?"
Natsumi reached in her purse for her keys and then walked in the opposite direction that Hana and Mitsuki had left. It was a waste of money, but if it saved her from being laughed at and pitied by him then it was a price that she was happy to pay. She did not look behind her, but she didn't hear his footsteps behind her, and he wasn't talking. Maybe he'd gotten bored and left, hadn't that been why he came around? Exceptionally bored? A silly inside joke between two people who weren't really friends. Two people who never should have met in the first place.
She wouldn't have even lived very long if Mimiko hadn't taken such a liking to her. He'd almost killed her outside a drug store, on a night not so different from this one with the humid air pressing in on her. She was only still alive because she meant something to Gojou. Because he'd let her live.
Her eyes stung with unshed tears, and she tried to blink them away quickly. She was so stupid to have ever even tried to kiss him. She should have asked Hana to stay. It would have been selfish, and it would have been taking advantage of her kindness, but it was better than this.
"Matsuda, stop."
"No," she choked out because ignoring him wasn't working.
There was a deep sigh behind her, and then he was next to her keeping up with her pace easily. "Where are we going?"
"I am going home."
"Matsuda… can you just stop, for one minute, and then if you ask me to leave, I will."
Natsumi peeked at him out of the corner of her eye. The amused lilt was gone, and his brows were pulled together as if he couldn't understand what the problem was. Maybe he really couldn't understand, because she'd known who he was, and she'd talked with him anyway. She had never ignored him when he tried to talk to her before, she'd even enjoyed whatever game it was they had been playing.
"I… We're almost to my car."
Getou kept up with her, following her lead through the parking lot as they reached the place where she worked. She'd parked in the very back, and as much as she was afraid to look at his face too long, she was not afraid that he had come here to hurt her. He'd had opportunity after opportunity, and if he wasn't going to kill her after he had realized he kissed a monkey, even if it was just pity, then he wasn't going to kill her in a parking lot.
Probably.
She stopped at the driver's side of her car, hand on the door handle but not pulling it. "Okay, I stopped."
"This isn't how people have conversations, Matsuda."
"Just say whatever it is you came to say."
"I didn't come here to say anything. I was just… I told you, running into you is never intentional it just happens."
Of course, it wasn't, it would never be intentional. He didn't want her the way she wanted him, and it was stupid to even want him. Dangerous and stupid and reckless.
"Just because you run into me, doesn't mean you have to talk to me." How many times had they run into each other and walked the other way?
She felt his breath against her ear then, and she knew his lips must be almost touching her. Those lips she knew were so soft and she'd thought kissing him once would be enough, but it wasn't because she couldn't not think about it. The tears welled in her eyes again and she was so grateful he was behind her, that he couldn't see her because she did not need his pity.
"Matsuda," he breathed in her ear, "do you think I do anything I don't want to do?"
Her breath caught and she hated the shiver that ran down her spine. She wasn't sure if it was even a real question and if it was, how did she answer that? She slumped forward, letting her forehead lean against the top of the car door. Under normal circumstances, no, he didn't seem like the kind of person who did something he didn't want to do, but… but she'd been crying, and she had shared so much. Not just Kazumi and… and it was too much, what was he supposed to do when she kissed him? He'd kissed her because he knew she wanted him, and he'd pitied her enough after the night she'd had, but he'd left after. That's all it was. "Why are you here?"
"I told you why."
"No… why are you here? Why are you talking to me?"
He laughed in her ear, soft and quiet and she wanted so desperately to lean back into him. She didn't, gripping the handle of the car door so hard her knuckles hurt because she still remembered what it felt like when he pulled away. "I've told you before, I find you entertaining."
Entertaining.
A plaything.
"I am not a fucking toy," she bit out, of course, that's what he thought of her. What everyone always thought of her. "I'm not a toy you can pick up when you're bored. You helped me and I… I'm grateful, I appreciate it, but I don't want to play whatever game this is." She blinked away the tears that threatened to fall, she refused to cry in front of him again, even if he couldn't see it.
He whispered in her ear, "I don't think you're a toy, that's not… that's not what I meant."
"What did you mean then?"
"I meant… I meant that I find you interesting."
"For a monkey, you mean."
"Don't say that." She could hear the tightness in his voice, the way he sounded when he was clenching his jaw.
"Why not? Its true," she whispered, and she should be more afraid of him, should just get in her car and leave. "Gojou told me about it, what it means. I know I'm the fucking circus monkey you let live because I'm entertaining or because of Gojou or Mimiko or whatever reason makes sense to you." She lifted her head off the car and pulled at the door handle. She wasn't sure how close he was behind her and had to step to the side so she could open it without bumping into him.
The door was open a few inches before his hand shot out to close it. "That is not how I see you."
"I don't believe you," Natsumi grabbed the handle again, but he kept his hand on the door, pressing with enough force that she couldn't open it. "Getou-san, I'm tired. I'm having a really shitty week, and I don't… I don't have the energy for this. I don't feel like being laughed at tonight."
Getou moved, standing to the side of her and blocking the door from opening. "Matsuda, we… we need to talk about the other night."
"I'm embarrassed enough without us talking about it. I just want to pretend that the whole night never happened," she closed her eyes tightly to keep the tears from falling. Natsumi let go of the door handle and turned around, her back to him once again as she leaned her right side against the car.
She felt him then, pressing his chest against her back and she thought she could feel his heart racing. He didn't touch her with his hands, but he leaned in close again, whispering softly, "I didn't leave because of you."
Her heart raced and her stomach fluttered, and she wished that she could believe him. As it was, it took everything in her not to relax back into him. Natsumi turned her head away from him and opened her eyes and stared across the parking lot, trying to find something else to focus on. There were other people about, and yet somehow it always seemed to feel as if no one else was around.
"It doesn't matter," she said, "You saw me at a really low point and… and I don't need the pity, okay? I'm… I'm fine by myself. Just go, please."
"I think it matters very much," he said, and when she didn't say anything, and he sighed, "Okay, Matsuda, I'll leave if that's really what you want." He didn't move at first, as if he was waiting for her to stop him. "I've never once pitied you," he said finally, pulling away as soon as he said the words and walking passed her.
Natsumi watched him walk away and realized… realized she couldn't ever remember watching him walk away from her. In all their little talks that should never have happened, she was always the one leaving, the one cutting it short. She had never watched him walk away from her until that night.
She didn't really want to watch him walk away again. Not if she didn't have to.
"Getou-san!" she yelled across the parking lot. He came to a stop, turning around slowly and he was too far for her to make out his expression clearly. "I'm going home."
"So you've said."
It was stupid. He wouldn't come back. "I'm going to get in my car and go home," her heart was racing, and if he turned around again it would crush her, "and if you were in the passenger seat… I wouldn't exactly kick you out," because if he did come back, maybe she could believe it wasn't pity. Not entirely.
Getou walked back towards her, and as he came closer she saw the glittering amusement in his eyes and the smile that pulled at the corner of his lips. "Are you sure, Matsuda? You seemed rather sure you don't want me around," his tone was teasing as he walked to the passenger side of the car.
"Yeah… but you're buying dinner," she opened her door when he was next to the car.
"Okay, Matsuda. I'll buy dinner," he said, and he opened the door.
"And cigarettes!" Natsumi slid into the driver's seat, and slid into the ignition, resenting the way her hand shook. "And," she added, "you have to agree that after night… we're even. We don't owe each other anything."
His shoulders shook as if he was trying to hold in laughter as he sat in the passenger seat. "Whatever you say, Matsuda."
