Sajou No Uta
不快感。
The chill of the smothering waves couldn’t compare to that look in his eyes. Pure black. Obsidian ice, freezing your heart and stopping it dead, leaving it hanging limp in your ribcage. Not that I ever had a heart… I couldn’t have one, could I? Not if I could hurt him so badly, destroy him so completely, wound him so deeply.
I’ll never forget that glare, that piercing, heart-wrenching glare – never, not even in the next life or whatever comes when my body stops fighting the current, air stops filling these dirty lungs of mine.
“Go to Hell, Die.” He had said – snarled actually - with a voice that threatened to break along with his kind, loving heart, every syllable laced with every shade of hatred and despair. The wedding was apparently off, solid band of silver hurled forcefully at the wall. He had been aiming for my head but then again, he was never any good at sport, couldn’t serve to save his life and when he was half blinded by tears, his aim was even worse.
“Kaoru….” I had pleaded, as if his name alone, said with the right tone and thick layer of apologetic sadness, was enough to get him to forgive me. It wasn’t and he told me to go to Hell again, this time without the anger, just a heavy dose of disappointment – which, in my opinion, made it worse. I could handle him shouting at me, calling me derogatory names like ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ but I couldn’t deal with disappointment.
Disappointment is below the belt. A vicious emotion that means you aren’t adequate, aren’t up to standard, aren’t good enough for your precious, hard-working, beautiful fiancée. I never was, never will be, and I find myself trying to drown in the dead of night with only the moon for company and the chatter of far away seabirds ringing through the darkness.
I try to relax, watching the red tendrils of my knotted hair float away, the deep black abyss beneath me looking formidable and terrifying. I shudder violently at the thought that something might be lurking in the depths of the sea, that I’m not alone. My mind flickers through the possibilities, an endless reel of film, a horror show conjured up by a haunted, guilty mind.
It doesn’t make sense. Everything is a blur, a flash of colours – reds, angry, furious, livid reds. Blues and blacks, colours of emptiness and fear. Without him, I’m nothing and yet, I ran away. A coward, unable to face up to the consequences of his actions, would rather die than say sorry and admit to being wrong. But then again, facing the deepest, darkest reaches of Hell was preferable to looking into those eyes.
It isn’t right. I know it. I should be crying outside the bedroom window, attempting to serenade him with trembling fingers plucking steel strings in the sweetest harmony known to man, telling him it was only a kiss, a drunken kiss that meant nothing at all compared to the meaning he gave my life. Gave. Past tense.
I shiver, the movement causing ripples to branch out around me and I’m uncertain as to whether it’s because of the icy water or the realisation that I’m despicable. I owe him more than this, an apology at least – and if I have to suffer the horrified, disgusted glare I’m bound to receive, then so be it. He deserves more than this. I twist my body through the water, turning back to the shore; the sand turned an eerie grey beneath starlight.
I can’t move. A vice-like grip fastens around my waist, pulling me back, down below the surface. I thrash violently, trying to release myself and open my mouth to scream for help. But no one can hear me. After all, I am alone. The gulls laugh and my lungs fill with saltwater. I close my eyes, hearing my name over the deafening waves for the last time.
“Die?”
His voice and it suddenly feels warm.
“Die… stop it,” He sounds exhausted, exasperated and annoyed, the words not quite making sense. I’m not sure what I’m meant to be stopping; instead I’m relishing the sudden increase in temperature, the smoothness of his voice, soft even with a hint of frustration. The tight grip is still around me, restraining against any form of movement, holding me down against my will. But still, I’ll take it. If this is death, then I’ll take it.
A sudden blow to the head makes my eyes snap open in shock, jerking me awake abruptly. Green neon numbers on the bedside table tell me it’s half past one in the morning. I can just make out my partners form above me, his strong hands still holding me firmly, almost painfully, to the bed.
“What?” I ask wearily, blinking rapidly, trying to see more clearly in the dark. My voice is distorted and muffled by the blanket smothering my nose and mouth. I can’t make out his expression but I know he hasn’t totally forgiven me. He releases his grip, engagement ring glinting in the dim green light with the movement of his hand – I sigh in relief.
“You’ve been bashing me round the head for the last ten minutes,” He mutters, his words slightly slurred and jumbled from lack of sleep, annoyance lacing each word. I feel for him through the blinding darkness, fingers searching clumsily until they feel his warmth, come into contact with his soft skin. I cling to him, pulling myself closer, the distance between us decreasing. He’s hesitant, tense beneath my touch, his mind wandering back to the argument we had earlier.
“Kaoru… it didn’t mean anything,” I attempt to reassure him, my voice faltering - not through dishonesty but through nervousness. “I promise. It was just a kiss.”
He sighs and lies back down, silent for a long moment before laughing quietly to himself. He turns to me, his breath tickling my cheek and his arm finds my waist again. And when he speaks his voice is gentle and warm.
“I know, Die. I know.”
I’ll never forget that glare, that piercing, heart-wrenching glare – never, not even in the next life or whatever comes when my body stops fighting the current, air stops filling these dirty lungs of mine.
“Go to Hell, Die.” He had said – snarled actually - with a voice that threatened to break along with his kind, loving heart, every syllable laced with every shade of hatred and despair. The wedding was apparently off, solid band of silver hurled forcefully at the wall. He had been aiming for my head but then again, he was never any good at sport, couldn’t serve to save his life and when he was half blinded by tears, his aim was even worse.
“Kaoru….” I had pleaded, as if his name alone, said with the right tone and thick layer of apologetic sadness, was enough to get him to forgive me. It wasn’t and he told me to go to Hell again, this time without the anger, just a heavy dose of disappointment – which, in my opinion, made it worse. I could handle him shouting at me, calling me derogatory names like ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ but I couldn’t deal with disappointment.
Disappointment is below the belt. A vicious emotion that means you aren’t adequate, aren’t up to standard, aren’t good enough for your precious, hard-working, beautiful fiancée. I never was, never will be, and I find myself trying to drown in the dead of night with only the moon for company and the chatter of far away seabirds ringing through the darkness.
I try to relax, watching the red tendrils of my knotted hair float away, the deep black abyss beneath me looking formidable and terrifying. I shudder violently at the thought that something might be lurking in the depths of the sea, that I’m not alone. My mind flickers through the possibilities, an endless reel of film, a horror show conjured up by a haunted, guilty mind.
It doesn’t make sense. Everything is a blur, a flash of colours – reds, angry, furious, livid reds. Blues and blacks, colours of emptiness and fear. Without him, I’m nothing and yet, I ran away. A coward, unable to face up to the consequences of his actions, would rather die than say sorry and admit to being wrong. But then again, facing the deepest, darkest reaches of Hell was preferable to looking into those eyes.
It isn’t right. I know it. I should be crying outside the bedroom window, attempting to serenade him with trembling fingers plucking steel strings in the sweetest harmony known to man, telling him it was only a kiss, a drunken kiss that meant nothing at all compared to the meaning he gave my life. Gave. Past tense.
I shiver, the movement causing ripples to branch out around me and I’m uncertain as to whether it’s because of the icy water or the realisation that I’m despicable. I owe him more than this, an apology at least – and if I have to suffer the horrified, disgusted glare I’m bound to receive, then so be it. He deserves more than this. I twist my body through the water, turning back to the shore; the sand turned an eerie grey beneath starlight.
I can’t move. A vice-like grip fastens around my waist, pulling me back, down below the surface. I thrash violently, trying to release myself and open my mouth to scream for help. But no one can hear me. After all, I am alone. The gulls laugh and my lungs fill with saltwater. I close my eyes, hearing my name over the deafening waves for the last time.
“Die?”
His voice and it suddenly feels warm.
“Die… stop it,” He sounds exhausted, exasperated and annoyed, the words not quite making sense. I’m not sure what I’m meant to be stopping; instead I’m relishing the sudden increase in temperature, the smoothness of his voice, soft even with a hint of frustration. The tight grip is still around me, restraining against any form of movement, holding me down against my will. But still, I’ll take it. If this is death, then I’ll take it.
A sudden blow to the head makes my eyes snap open in shock, jerking me awake abruptly. Green neon numbers on the bedside table tell me it’s half past one in the morning. I can just make out my partners form above me, his strong hands still holding me firmly, almost painfully, to the bed.
“What?” I ask wearily, blinking rapidly, trying to see more clearly in the dark. My voice is distorted and muffled by the blanket smothering my nose and mouth. I can’t make out his expression but I know he hasn’t totally forgiven me. He releases his grip, engagement ring glinting in the dim green light with the movement of his hand – I sigh in relief.
“You’ve been bashing me round the head for the last ten minutes,” He mutters, his words slightly slurred and jumbled from lack of sleep, annoyance lacing each word. I feel for him through the blinding darkness, fingers searching clumsily until they feel his warmth, come into contact with his soft skin. I cling to him, pulling myself closer, the distance between us decreasing. He’s hesitant, tense beneath my touch, his mind wandering back to the argument we had earlier.
“Kaoru… it didn’t mean anything,” I attempt to reassure him, my voice faltering - not through dishonesty but through nervousness. “I promise. It was just a kiss.”
He sighs and lies back down, silent for a long moment before laughing quietly to himself. He turns to me, his breath tickling my cheek and his arm finds my waist again. And when he speaks his voice is gentle and warm.
“I know, Die. I know.”