DISCLAIMER: I do not own Recca No Honou or any of the characters. Any names, situations, places and experiences found in this story are entirely fictional.
It's been too long and amidst the fact that I haven't finished "Feud", I decided to publish this story. I know you are dying to throw rotten tomatoes at me but for precautions, be aware that from my long absence, I have gotten lots of weight and I'm afraid that if you throw anything at me, it may just bounce back to you.
Anyhow, this story is a result of many movie marathons and some personal struggles with my past and present flames and is published for a variety of reasons. But as of the moment, my main purpose is to know whether it is worth continuing or not.
For newbies, I accept anonymous reviews so you can review all you want without the bothersome act of logging in or registering.
So I guess that's all for now.
Ps. I know it's a lame introduction but you're not the one who's been awake for more than 24hrs so better just enjoy the story!
And OH BTW, this is ToFuu AU!
Is it still worth it?
[ ] Yes
[ ] No
Fuuko's pen hovered over one of the choices. A long time ago, she could have checked a box without minding the other. The other box was just for formality - for effect. But tonight, however, it's starting to serve right to its purpose - to brew doubt and ignite confusion.
For several months now, she had the same question plastered as a footnote on each of her journal entry. It has been easy to answer that for the first few weeks but as more days passed and as more entries were written, she found herself dreading the thought of choosing between the boxes and had to spend a more considerate time deciding what to check.
"Is it still worth it?"
No sound escaped her lips as she slowly mouthed the words. She held her pen in place, making sure the tip of her pen doesn't touch her pristine white journal paper. Heaving a huge sigh, she aimed her pen on what she thought was her answer and read the very last sentence on her latest entry, hoping for some sort of encouragement.
But she hasn't found any. Much to her dismay, the topics in her diary for the past couple of weeks have been nothing but a compilation of all of her disappointments in life - her family, her career and most of all, herself.
All for a man she loved.
As if being cut off from a self-imposed trance, Fuuko was suddenly alarmed by the boisterous noise coming out from her ringing mobile. She picked it up, a smile tugged at her small lips as she read the name of the caller and with a quick clearing of her throat, she answered.
"Honey," she said softly.
With a warm but hasty tone, as though the occupant on the other line has spent the whole day running on a treadmill, he answered, "Fuuko?" the other line called and without waiting for her answer, the voice continued, "Honey, I'm sorry I wont be home early. Something came up and I may have to extend a few more hours in the office."
Totally alert now, Fuuko tried forcing her voice into the phone, "But... You said..."
"I know honey, and that's why I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you this weekend, okay? I love you and don't wait up this time."
A curt click and the line was cut off before Fuuko could even mutter her reply.
Fuuko heard nothing else except for the long beep signaling an ended call but still held the phone near her ear as she whispered, "...bye."
She slowly got up from her desk, leaving her ball point pen over her journal and taking off her reading glasses.
I guess I'll leave this until later, she thought as her eyes lingered over the footnote.
Taking her forgotten tea cup, she marched her way through the moonlit corridor separating the master's bedroom from the other rooms upstairs and then carefully climbed down the slightly spiral staircase with only her bare feet against the cold marble floor.
A few dim lights were switched on to guide her through their spacious lounge and into what used to be her favorite part of the house - the kitchen. Fuuko turned the lights on and it blared grandiosely over an 8 foot long granite bar, exquisite kitchen tools and equipments, shiny black tiled washing and cooking area and glassed cabinets filled with whatever goodies you can think of.
Fuuko's friends used to say that any high-paid chef would envy her kitchen and it was one part of the house she took pride on. A few years back, Fuuko cannot even distinguished the differences between a frying pan and a wok, the toaster and the oven, and even worse (as she once discovered silly) that there's even a special type of cheese use for pizzas, white sauce and bouillabaisse. Needless to say, Fuuko used to regard the kitchen as a place where she takes in food and leave the dishes on the sink.
Being surrounded by brothers whose idea of fun were to wrestle with her any chance they could get and to teach her the ways of growing up to be strong mamoths, Fuuko had admitted that doing house chores and cooking were, for her, not the true responsibilities of women.
That all changed though, when she met Tokiya. The perfect epitome of an angel descending from heaven, as she once decided but reluctantly so as he and she weren't exactly the bestest of friends when they met. In fact, she had long thought of him as a fire for the moths, the irresistible vampire, the devil himself. The very person every woman, not excluding herself, should ran away from at any chance she can get.
She has never denied that he was as sexy as Leonardo Da Vinci's sculptures or the male version of Aphrodite, but she never held the highest regards on his physical attributes. T'was the fact that she deemed him nothing more than just a pretty face for behind that tempting facade was a ball of arrogance and stubborn male ego. Too much pride and confidence (not to mention, manipulative instincts), in fact, that she had no choice but to participate in his little charade four years ago - which actually resulted to surprising revelations, romantic confessions and he and she being together.
Now that Fuuko had a thorough recollection of all the things and situations that brought them together, she can't help but escape a little chuckle. Oh the comedy, the riot, the forced pretenses, the heartbreaks and then the romance - all of which seemed only yesterday...
...only yesterday and yet she can't even remember how it felt anymore.
The first two years of their relationship, before Tokiya was promoted as the CEO of the Sakoshita Group of Companies, were some of the best years of Fuuko's life. Despite the initial complications and the fact that both of them were as similar as heaven and earth, Fuuko remembered how the both of them tried very hard to work it out. The romance was passionate, the intimacy intense and everything was a fairy tale come true but after the promotion, she found herself longing to spend the weekends with him. Then even just a day, then even just an hour. Till the time came when she can't even snatch him for a quick lunch or dinner.
It's for you, for us, for our future. Those were his very words.
I'll make it up to you soon, okay? Those were his broken promises.
I'm so sorry, Fuuko. It's been such a tiring week. Those were his common excuses.
You should feel lucky, you know. She used to hear herself say. Other women have boyfriends who beat them up and lots have lazy partners who can't even fend for themselves.
A lot of times, she tried convincing herself that she had one of the best men in the world. And to be fair, she concluded this as the truth. If Tokiya isn't obsessed with work, he was the best lover and companion. Once you get through his thick wall of social and emotional defense, you'd find the most romantic Romeo of all time - as overprotective as your brother and as passionate as your romance novel hero. It's true, you can search nine lifetimes and you may never see a man as good as him again.
But were all of those good enough? Sure, he was thinking about their future. A future she can no longer imagine. Is this going to be my future with him? Would I forever sit on my desk waiting for a call from him all day? Would I continually prepare dinner for a man who will never come home early? Will I have to endure more sleepless nights just because it's the only time I can see him longer - even when he's sleeping? Can I see myself in the future as a wife of a husband who will only need me as an escort to some social functions in his company or when he wants to satisfy his temporary need for sex?
Too many questions and she never bothered to answer.
Her friend, Yanagi, once told her that all relationships suffer through the dreadful phase of "comfort". It's when the man and woman become too comfortable and secured with each other that the need to play the part of a romantic or to explore more becomes non-existent because you know your partner so well and you know there will be plenty of room to make up for lost times later since they will always be there.
Fuuko sometimes wonder if Tokiya spends too little time with her because he knows she'll be there when he needs her. And fool as she was, she let herself believe that someday Tokiya will actually call for her for the sole reason of spending time together and reliving all the precious moments they used to share.
As she walked towards the small corridor leading to the dining room, Fuuko caught a glimpse of herself on a framed mirror plastered to the wall. Weird, she thought. She never noticed how hollow her face now looks or how dark the circles around her eyes are. What used to be a disheveled mess of short purple locks has transformed into a smooth waterfall of slightly wavy hair falling down to her waist. But it didn't do anything to make her anymore alluring. Fuuko was no more than twenty six years old and yet she looked older than thirty. And she felt like one too.
"You've been waiting far too long, don't you think?" she whispered to her reflection.
With a bittersweet smile, Fuuko proceeded to her marvelous dining hall. The dining table was full of delicacies she was earlier excited to eat. Especially for today, she took the trouble of carefully arranging the food and the candles so they look splendid and romantic at the same time. Everything has been set in Tokiya's favor - the champagne was placed near the table but not on it, for he preferred it drenched in a bucket full of ice. Served chilled as an iceberg. She also made sure to put a long-stemmed rose in an elegant glassed vase - just one, not many - as Tokiya absolutely despised too much of anything. Perhaps, except his wealth. And his gadgets. Oh and his books, too. He can't seem to get enough of reading and doing anything that would make him much wealthier.
Money actually comes so easily to him that Fuuko often wondered why he had to work very hard to get it. She understood that he didn't exactly come from a family of wealth. The Mikagamis, as he once told her, used to be a dynasty of abundance and wealth. His ancestors were brilliant businessmen and women who ventured into the mining industry and were blessed with what they thought was an endless supply of gold and gems. Along with their renowned intellect however, was their infamous arrogance and anti-social traits. The Mikagamis of the past were rich but selfish - took too much and gave too little. Not to mention they spent too much for their own good.
But as everything has its end, especially things that were brought by wrongdoings and mischief, the Mikagamis have soon fallen victim of their very own greed and extravagance. Their mining business fell and it wasn't long before they lived in debts and misery.
Tokiya and her sister, after the untimely death of their parents, became the last pure line of the Mikagamis who survived the present time. With an outrageous heirloom of debts on top of their heads long before they were born, Tokiya and her sister have became slaves of the consequences brought by the fall of the Mikagami industry.
Fuuko remembered how much she loved listening to his childhood stories no matter how sad they usually were. It used to give her so much insight of why he was the way he was, where he got his innate arrogance or why he has to strive hard for a living. She understood this part of him at a very high degree but not high enough to feel bad when he slaved away in his office, with nothing but his forgotten meal and the blaring computer in front of him; when he worked harder than everyone else in his company; when he made it a point to excuse himself from his friends' yearly reunion because of work; or when he has forgotten that today was their fourth year anniversary and the year he promised to marry her.
With a solemn and teary gaze upon the long red rose, Fuuko found herself uttering only a few words:
"Happy Anniversary, my love..."
A/N: I know what you're gonna say, "Khryzlekawaii you're losing your touch for comedy! We liked your romantic comedies and now this story is all dark and negative I feel like the grim reaper is gonna chew my ass any minute!" or you may think "Is it just me or does it look like a break up story? ToFuu is supposed to be together, not breaking up!"
What I'm gonna say to those is: REVIEW or you wont know. :)
This story has been written without revisions or review. You are reading the raw copy - like all the ones I've written.