Then came another night when she returned late, the usual.
He waited. Ten o'clock. Midnight. Two.
When the door finally opened, she stumbled inside.
Her steps were uneven. Her pupils were blown wide. She smelled of whiskey and rain, her coat slipping halfway off her shoulders.
"Oh," she slurred after noticing him. "You're awake."
"You're high." He walked toward her, brows furrowing immediately.
"Yeah." She tried to move past him.
He caught her wrist. "How much did you take?"
"Not your business."
"Yumi."
"I said stop asking." She struggled against his grip. "You should listen to me. I'm technically your boss."
"Yes, boss," he said tightly. "And I'm your husband." He tried to guide her toward the couch, but she shoved at his chest. Her force was weak, but it was obvious she was upset.
"You are when I tell you to be."
"Oi-" He reached down, trying to cup her face.
"Don't!" Her voice snapped sharp enough to cut."Don't fucking touch me. Leave me the hell alone!"
She tore herself free, breathing hard. "I didn't pay for you to manage me like a damn mother, you old ass man! Leave me alone when I didn't call for you. Understood!?"
He froze. That tone was new. She had never spoken to him like that before.
It stung him.
She turned and stalked down the hallway toward her office.
He followed her still. "You're shaking, Yumi."
"I already said, it is none of your damn business."
He exhaled, frustration clawing up his chest. "It is my goddamn business, okay!? Let me do my job right. Why are you pissed? Shouldn't I be pissed!? You think I enjoy babysitting and watching you destroy yourself like an unhappy teenage girl who recently discovered drugs?"
She stopped and spun around.
"Lol. Shut the hell up. You don't get to watch." Her mocking grin was accompanied by eyes with more heat than fire. "You do as I say. That's fucking it. That's the deal."
He wanted to argue. Wanted to snap back and wanted to grab her and force her to sit down.
But the way her eyes glistened stopped him. It hurt. It really did.
Why did it hurt this much?
He did not know. How deeply she affected him. How much he felt when she pulled away. How much he feel for her—
He cut the thought off violently.
She disappeared into her office and shut the door.
Toji leaned back against the wall in the hallway and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. His fingers threaded into his hair, gripping hard as he exhaled a long breath.
"Yumi, damn it..." he muttered under his breath.
Ever since that day, there had been more distance between them.
Toji would be lying if he said it did not irritate him.
He gave her less attention now that she no longer sought it. They barely saw each other anyway, and so he left her alone, or at least told himself he was.
It felt meaningless. Like going through the motions of something that no longer had weight. Life, somehow, had begun to feel bland.
Yumi, on the other hand, was caught in a cycle.
She was barely sober enough to think most days. Her father did not mind, as long as she could still perform. Perhaps her efficiency had earned Toji a longer shelf life. Perhaps not. She did not know. She was not there enough to consider it.
Time barely existed.
Lewis, of course, did not comment on her decision, only staying close and watching her. Made sure she was safe.
Made sure she could do what she wanted, even if what she wanted was to poison herself into nothingness. This was, after all, the only autonomy she had left.
Allowing her that much was the least he could do. It's sad but true.
----
Then, on one random night, she stumbled home.
The apartment blurred around her as she walked in. The silence pressed against her ears. Thoughts and feelings crashed into her all at once, unwanted ones.
Her feet carried her to the bathroom on instinct.
Her hands were already opening drawers, fingers shaking, searching for the familiar blue bottle.
That was it.
That was the breaking point.
Toji found her sitting on the cold tile floor, the pill bottle spilled beside her. She was not dead. That would have been too kind. She was trembling, eyes glazed and breathing shallowly.
Shit.
Ahh, his chest mellowed out at the sight; all lingering anger was gone in an instant.
"Yumi..." he whispered under his breath. Expression of defeat plastered on his face.
He knelt beside her, suddenly forgetting that he was ever upset. His hands cupped her cheeks carefully. "Yumi."
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
"I said I'm fine!" She snapped for no reason. Again.
It didn't make him want to pull away this time though.
Toji embraced her into his arms. She resisted for half a second, lips parting, wanting to shout again, but she ended up collapsing against him, her body giving in.
"Why are you doing this to yourself?" he muttered softly; it sounded hurt. That was what his heart was reverberating, mushy aching pain.
"I don't know." She let out a weak, defeated-sounding chuckle.
He looked down at her with a dry lump in his throat.
She trembled, then shoved weakly at his chest. "Get off me. I can't stand you looking at me like that."
"Like what."
"Like you care about me. Stop it. Stop pretending. I told you to just be yourself-"
"I am myself."
"..."
"what do you mean."
"I-" he couldn't say it. He doesn't know what to say. That he actually care about her? That he...loves her? He doesn't want to lie right now; that much was clear.
"..." she waited for a response still.
"I want to be with you." He finally said, his fingers running through her hair, "wash you up. Sleep with you in my arms."
A small pause.
"Feed you food. Talk to you. Hold your hands." He continued.
It was hard to say that, of course, it was. He has never been this vulnerable in his life. Expressing or even having this desire to put someone before himself.
"Huh...?" her voice barely raised.
"Mm."
Silence settled over the bathroom, broken only by the faint drip of water from somewhere unseen.
The marble beneath them was cold, but the warmth of his hands never left her. His touch stayed gentle, like she might break if he isn't careful for a second.
Yumi's breathing slowed. The tension that had been holding her together unravelled piece by piece, her body growing heavier in his arms.
Her lashes fluttered once, twice, before finally falling shut.
Sleep took her.
When she woke, the world felt more amiable.
Her cheek was pressed against something warm and solid. Someone's bare skin. Ah. The steady rise and fall next to her ear made her realise where she was.
For a moment, she floated in that in-between state of mind, before fragments returned slowly.
The bathroom. The pills. His arms. Her clothes.
Right.
They were gone. She's not wearing anything. It was probably removed because it was soaked through, smelling like alcohol and sweat.
She moved lightly. That was enough.
Toji's eyes opened almost instantly through the haze of sleep. He didn't move at first. Just looked at her like he needed to make sure she was really there.