But I guess, there is just no way y

But I guess, there is just no way you can ever be sure which ones are possible and which ones are not when it involve Ryuchi Asami.

Part 2. Something Old, Something New, and Something Normal

Slowly, I opened my eyes. Oh, no, no, wrong decision! Close it again! It's too bright. I enjoyed the complete darkness that engulfed me while I built the courage to open my eyes again. Even slower this time. Ahh, that was much better.

The roof that I looked at was familiar. Our bedroom. In our home. I was home. I didn't really remember why, but somehow an overwhelming relief flooded me. Tears were threatening to fall from the edges of my eyes and I blinked rapidly to push them back. It didn't work. Trying to lift my hand to brush the stubborn drops away from my cheeks, I growled with the pain that shot from my lower back all the way to the shoulders. What the hell? That bastard Asami must had fucked me senseless six ways to Sunday.

I tried to move and listed the damage the bastard had done. Strange, my body felt pain in a bad way, not in a oh-i-just-get-laid way. And I couldn't remember anything that bastard did as well. Oh, talking about the bastard, where was he? Why wasn't he here waking me up with all his dirty tricks?

Note to self: check his body temperature, he must be sick that he skipped his dose of morning sex.

I dragged my body to a half sitting position and noticed the bandages around my shoulder. And in my forehead. And all the bruises in my chest and stomach and...

...and it all came back to me.

Russia. Mikhail. Yuri. Human trafficking. Rapes. Auction. Blond slave girls and blue eyes boys. A lot of shouting. Gun. Fire. Asami.

Oh my God, Asami! Where was he? Was he okay? Wait, I was here, so he should be okay, right? But what if he didn't make it? What if...?

I turned around abruptly and immediately regretted moving so fast. Dizziness and nausea caught me unprepared. Okay, maybe I shouldn't move that fast no matter how worried I was. Not one of my brightest idea, obviously.

Ah, there he was. I released my breath that I unconsciously held. Sitting on the chair, head falling to the front, arms crossing in front of his chest, deeply sleeping. He must be very tired that he didn't notice that I was awake. He was usually a very light sleeper. One sudden movement was enough to wake him with a gun ready in hand. Habit dies hard, he explained to me calmly after one incident involving a box of cotton buds and strawberry jam. (Don't ask!)

But now, here he was. Falling deeply asleep like a newborn baby. His shirt wasn't buttoned and hanged open in the front showing off his delicious muscular torso. It was really tempting to lick those sexy nubs on his chest. Hmm, grinning, I started to wonder whether he pretended to sleep on purpose.

Oh, he must be really tired to be caught in such a defenseless state. I couldn't keep my face from smiling seeing his head keep falling around. Slowly I crawled towards him. Looking at him like this, he almost looked...human (Well, he IS human, but you know, sometimes he looks more like God than a mere mortal). A man who was simply worried about his lover (me!) that he needed to stay at my side though he was...

...hurt?

It was then that I realized the bandages covering most of his chest and all his left shoulder. He must have covered me from the fire while holding me with his right arm. Another bandage were just above his left eye. I could see some of his beautiful silky hair was a bit burnt just around that particular bandage. And there were fresh scrape of wound along his strong neck. How many other injury was hidden under his clothes? Or, worse, under his mask of calmness? And all of that is because of what? A twenty-five years old brat who couldn't stay still or follow his simplest instructions?

But, in my defense, what could I do? I had a job, a career. I couldn't just stay still every time he asked me to. Especially, without any explanation. How should I know he had business problem with the Russian if he didn't tell me? Couldn't he trust that I was mature enough to share his burden? What did he take me for? A high-class lady who needed protection from the harsh reality of life? A woman who just gave up her career once she got a rich husband to be a stay at home mom? A wife who obeyed whatever her husband said? Damn, even 21st century woman didn't really do all that anymore. In which era did he live?

But I know he did it out of love. He isn't the man who showed it with words, but his actions screamed all his feelings for me. Even I was not that stupid to ignore all the signs. My tears now were just uncontrollable. My body shook so hard as the reality hit me. I couldn't stop it. How could I when the truth was so harshly presented in front of me, in the form of the man I loved so damn much?

It didn't matter how much we love each other. Our life, Ryuchi's and mine, were not compatible. Our worlds would never match. Our jobs may kill the other. It would be either I died because of him or he died trying to save me. Let me be damned into the seventh hell if I ever let him die because of me. And even if it were me who died in the hands of his enemies, what would be left of him? I might as well deliver him in a silver plate to his rivals should he been blinded by revenge. Today, I found it the hard way that love alone was not enough to preserve a relationship.

It hurt but I needed to admit it. Even when we loved each other, we were just not meant for each other. Period.

There were no happy ending for us. Neither live-happily-ever-after. The clock had struck twelve times a long time a go. The spell had broken and the story has ended. There was no fairy godmother that would come to help us finding each other. But we both chose to be ignorant and pretended that nothing has ended.

So, I cried. I howled. The thought was too painful. The memory was too saddening. The future without him was too scary. Everything was just too much.

He woke up in panic. He asked me which parts of my body were in pain. He held me tight and tried to sooth me. He screamed for the doctor to come. He backhanded Kirishima when the man couldn't make the doctor come any sooner. And when finally the doctor came, he threatened to beat the poor doctor bloody if he couldn't reduce my pain. He vowed to find Yuri and swore all horrible kind of torture ever existed in the human history for every pain Yuri inflicted on me. He did everything he can. But he just didn't understand.

So finally, when I could somehow control a shred of my emotion, with overflowing tears on my cheeks and extreme pain in my heart, I told him.

'It is over, Asami. I've had enough. I just want something normal. Let me go. Please.'

"I am not sure I have something appropriate for this kind of event, Arata, " I complain from where I bury my head deep inside my closet. A huge pile of clothes already starts to form behind my back. "Why do I need to come to this socialite party of yours anyway?"

Arata pops his head from the bathroom. "Oh come on, Aki. Just wear the suit you wear when you received the photography award last year."

I scowl. "I ruined the suit more than half a year a go, remember?" Finally, I grab a hopefully decent suit that I wore to a friend's wedding a few weeks a go. "And I don't need a suit for my job, anyway. But, you haven't answer my question. Why do I need to accompany you?"