Lies

It isn’t a total surprise of the things Yoshikawa Tsurara can do; cook, clean, care, love, all made with sugar, spice and everything nice. She’d make a perfect wife, they always said. But if there was one thing or two that she was very bad at, lying was one of them.

She couldn’t even conjure up a simple white lie.

It was just not in her nature. She was a prosecutor to be, and she couldn’t start her future career standing on a stack of lies.

Tsurara had tried once, and failed, getting her nowhere but bringing punishment upon herself, even costing a friendship. She vowed never to do that ever again. 

Akira knows her well enough that she isn’t prone to hesitation or stuttering, one of the few signals that gave him the suspicion that she’s struggling to let out the truth.

And so, as much as Tsurara adored him, she dreads on the fact that he decides to test her commitment to their relationship.

“Neh…Rara-chan, do you love me?” Akira abruptly questions over the phone, after having a long conversation about his trip to Europe with some old high school friends he went on last month and different brands of soymilk around the world. 

Tsurara nearly drops her phone. He repeats the question when she doesn’t reply back immediately, “Rara-chan?”

From her window balcony, Tsurara glances over at her landlord’s dark empty apartment and feels her heart sink. She lets out a profound sigh and bites down on her lip to stop from trembling. She just knew this very subject would arise sooner or later, “I…”

She doesn’t even realize that she was being tentative with her answer, pausing, starting a thought and then immediately pausing again until Akira began sniffling at the other end, “Do you?” He whimpers sadly.

There it was again, that devastated tone in his voice, with incoherent phrases of “Akira-sad.” Tsurara could just see it right now, his puppy pout that got her melting into a puddle of goop and feeling guilty.

Kusano Akira was the only man in her life with such a golden heart and it saddens her that they were slowly drifting apart, to the point that she couldn’t even return her feelings for him any longer.

Tsurara chokes back a cry. She felt like such a cheater, betraying him unconsciously with another man who didn’t even look at her that way. There was no doubt about it; he knows her deepest secret, her unfaithfulness, of her desperate clinging to the dark hero who lived next door. “I-I’m sorry Akira-kun. I-I can’t do this anymore. I can’t lie to you.”

She couldn’t lie to herself either. She truly loved Akira but not as much as she loved that stupid landlord of hers. She had been running around in circles for too long. It was time to choose.

“I know.” He replies with dispassion.

“I don’t want to keep doing this to you.” She adds in between sobs, squeezing the teddy bear he got for their three month anniversary. It always calmed her in situations like this.

“I’ve always knew it would come to this Tsurara-san.” His voice nearly cracks as he said that, and she could hear a few more whimpers at his end.

It tore her apart that he began calling her that, back to formalities as if they were only acquaintances. He had always called her Rara-chan, even when they first met each other and she was forced to call him Akira-kun, which eventually became a habit. It all sounded so foreign to her now.

“Do you want your things back Aki—Kusano-san?” 

“Keep them, all of them.” He pauses for a moment, shuffles a bit here and then before returning with a simple, “But I want my jacket back.”

It made her heart sink even lower when he was the one to hang up first rather than playing the usual, ‘Let’s hang up at the same time’ game.

He didn’t even add his affectionate “Kon” and “I love you” at the end.

That was it. That was the end of their nine month happy-go-lucky relationship.

Slowly, Tsurara gathers up everything that reminded her of Akira but the teddy bear and stashed them in a large box under her bed, with the rest of her other junk. There wasn’t much that Akira given to her, but they were nice, memorable things like jewelry and cute stuffed animals, love letters and even a promise ring. 

“Promise me that we’ll stay together forever, neh?”

Of course, that promise couldn’t be kept.

Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, Tsurara opens up her mini closet and pulls out the dark green Russ-K jacket Akira wanted back. She gazes at it for a good minute before taking a sniff at his faint cinnamon scent that still lingered on it.

Holding it close to her chest, Tsurara lets out a deep breath, straightens herself and then steps out of her apartment to see Akira one last time.

Goodbye sweet Akira, hello stubborn Kurosaki.

+++
Kurosaki is used to his dark lifestyle and he doesn’t care what other people think. He does what he does best at, swindling the enemies, charming the ladies (the damn akasagi, but he was just that handsome in general anyway) and lying.

But as long as he could remember, he always ran away from the truth, away from anything that affected his emotions. So when they (Katsuragi and that waitress) start teasing him, about a certain girl who lived next door, he’s on the move, breaking things and muttering curses under his breath, in total denial, 

“That woman has nothing to do with me, now give me the damn information.”

“But it’s so obvious my boy. Men would only do such things as breaking other people’s property when they’re in love. My, my, has she gotten you tied down already?”

With butter biscuits in his mouth, Katsuragi lets out a chuckle and prompts Hayasa to hand over the manila envelope with the demanded information. Hayasa giggles quietly along, smiling at the flushed faced swindler.

His furious attitude wasn’t going to hide his beloved adoration for the certain college girl. 

The old man can see right through Kurosaki, his denying struggle with the fact that one; he was in love with someone, and two, that he couldn’t live without her.

“Now, now, am I expecting a grandchild soon?” Katsuragi jokes with a huge grin, earning a very apprehensive looking Kurosaki, who couldn’t bear to see the image of a pregnant Tsurara.

Kurosaki twitches for a slight second before jumping out of his stool, knocking it back, “No! For your information, old man, that woman is living her love life with another man.” Growling, he snatches the envelope from the old man’s wrinkly fingers.

“Oh that’s too bad. I really wanted a granddaughter to play with.” Katsuragi lets out a playful sigh and leans back on his armchair. He blinks for a moment, rubs his chin and then sits up straight again, 

“But wait. She came in here last night, crying…something about breaking up with her boyfriend. Maybe you still have a chance.”

“I’ve had enough with you old man. That woman and I will never get together. End of discussion.”

Kurosaki storms out after that, ignoring the old man’s boisterous laugh and Hayasa’s quiet chuckles blending in the background.

+++

He lies to her face. It was a daily routine. But the lies become less complicated and simpler, to the point that most of them didn’t even make sense anymore, twisted and just a bunch of jumbled words put together.

He lied to her that he doesn’t want her, the way Akira wanted her, or hold hands, kissing under the cherry blossom tree.

He lied to her that she wasn’t special to him.

He lied to himself about all those things. When in reality, all he wanted was someone to hold him.

But Kurosaki couldn’t have any of those things. He doesn’t deserve them. Not her, not her love, or the gifts she gave.

The stupid girl should have kept soymilk lover. That stupid girl should have eloped with that man and be happy for the rest of her life, with hyper little soymilk lovers running around.

But no, she chose him, of all people who could make her life golden as the bling around his neck.

“You’re a fool.” He whispers to no one in particular, as he eavesdrop her conversation with Yuuko, sobbing at how he (Kurosaki) ruined everything, her life, her relationship, her heart.

When she catches him, she gasps and ends her conversation right away, before shooting a bloodshot, teary gaze towards him. They stare at each other for a long while that he almost lost track of time.

It was awkward now. He couldn’t even stand to look at her any longer, let alone make the usual taunts. Hell, he couldn’t even make up a good one this time. Nothing came out.

He swallows hard, his lips as he tries to find ways to make this long silence turn to little teases and loud girls shouting at the top her lungs, just the way he likes it.

It surprises him when Tsurara was the first to end this staring contest by marching up the stairs and disappear into her apartment.

Throughout the seven minutes of silence and staring into those sad eyes of hers, his heart was beating at a rate of a cheetah’s, racing down the field to catch its prey.

“Impossible.” He hits his chest, to make it all go away, but the beating only continues, at a faster pace. He hits his chest again, only to have the same result. Kurosaki growls and punches one of the mailboxes next to him.

“Ouch! Damn you, old man.”

He hates it when the old man was right.

+++

Tsurara calls it, “A lovely friendship with benefits ending because one of them was moving away” break-up.

And most of it was true. Akira was transferring to a different university, the same one his best girl friend Nobuta attended.

“Do you like her?” Tsurara asks when he showed her a picture of Nobuta.
Akira sighs, “I used to. Until I met you.” 

“You’re too sweet.”

“If Kuro-nii hurts you in anyway, my Rara-chan senses will tingle and I’ll come flying back and kick his , k’?” Akira jokes when Tsurara starts to weep. It made her smile a little at least and that was his intention.

She was quite surprised that he was taking this pretty well. Better than her at least. Either way, she was kind of glad that they ended it this way, on good terms.

“You’re so silly, Akira-kun.”

It was bittersweet, and short. They hugged, kissing one last time, short ones, lingering with fingers interlaced, squeezing, and tears streaming down the cheeks. They break apart, take one last look at each other and then drift away in different directions.

But now, she was angry, at herself, at the world…At that stupid landlord of hers. And she wanted to vent, want to pounce someone (preferably her landlord) and just scream.

So when she catches said stupid landlord eavesdropping on her conversation, her blood boils. He has that stupid grin…no stupid innocent look of “What the **** did I do?”

She whimpers, quietly enough for her to hear only, glaring him up and down, holding back from jumping at him.

Then she frowns, melting at his gaze, feeling that being angry at him wouldn’t solve a damn thing. Not her relationship, not her life, or anything else.

Tsurara is tired. It was a long day and looking at him right now made her want to slap him hard.

But the thumping in her chest made her want to forgive him anyway. Forgive him for making her life so miserable. 

It surprises her when he begins looking her up and down with lustful eyes. Or perhaps that was his way of saying, “Ewww, who’s the ugly hag standing at the stairway in a hideous dress?”

But his eyes doesn’t lie and her heart beat doesn’t lie either.

The seven minutes of silence, just gazing at each other was more than something, because he would be on his merry way, up the stairs without even one look at her face. He was the type that would always avoid a girl like her.

Tsurara couldn’t help but smile behind her frown, if that was possible.

~owari~