This takes place somewhere between volumes four and five with my own imagined set of events. A drabble. Sexual implications. Don't like, don't read. Spoilers regarding Meroko's past.
Tracing the plot finds.
Skin touching skin.
-Death Cab For Cutie, For What Reason
When she wakes up, she can think only one thing: This isn't what I wanted. But since when does Meroko ever get what she wants?
The sunlight falls through the sliding door behind them, draping them more efficiently than any blanket, including the one that rests over her slender torso. Jonathan is gone, floating somewhere between oblivion and earth and Izumi is behind her, his form poorly fitted behind hers. But it's not what she thought it would be. Once upon a time, before she began wasting her time imagining these things with Takuto and while she was wasting her time imagining these things with Izumi, she thought their bodies would come together like puzzle pieces.
Of course, this is all wrong. His limbs are too long and spindly, his body too thin, too stiff as he sleeps. He is without blanket; as he feels no shame in anything else, he feels no shame in exposing his body. And though he had seen, touched, bitten and kissed every inch of her the night before and though she wears clothing that so brazenly bares so much skin, she cannot fathom being without covering in his presence during daylight hours. Between his chest and her back there is a thin layer keeping them apart. Something always keeping them apart.
Her thoughts wander as they always do to places she doesn't want to visit. Her inner thighs are sore and other places ache and while Izumi was much gentler than she thought possible, she can't help but remember a much harsher touch. An uncouth hand snaking its way around her and in her. A queasiness settles into her stomach. Her heart doesn't beat, but it feels, and as her mind flits from one painful memory to the next, it begins to crawl from its cage to her throat. Would it have been this way with Takuto?
No. Because with Takuto, she would have been happy. She wouldn't have been crying as they kissed and when things escalated, she wouldn't have been closing her eyes so tightly they burned. That's your problem, she tells herself wryly. When anyone steps down from that pedestal she places them so reverently on, she turns them away. To step down from that great height is to be level with her; and that place isn't where anyone she loves belongs. Love is much safer when it's too high to touch.
She wanted him to make her feel beautiful; instead he made her feel cheap. She wanted him to make her feel wanted; instead he made her feel dirty. She wanted him to make her feel loved. And maybe he almost did. But saying it isn't the same as meaning it isn't the same as expressing it isn't the same as touching her. Mitsuki. Izumi. Takuto. Everything about last night makes her feel like the sinner she's punished for being.
He stirs behind her and Meroko turns toward him to try again, lifting the blanket to take him in. He smiles at her and she knows as she kisses him that his drowsy eyes are open.
It wasn't what she wanted, but it was what she asked for and so Meroko can't complain.
A/N: That song I quoted up there, For What Reason by DCFC, is the song that I can easily equate with IzuMero. It doesn't really go with this story, but I just thought I'd list it.