A Missing Piece (2)

A few days had passed. With the help of Akiyama Suzuki, the pretty boy had been nursed back to approximately half of his full vitality. Suzuki still hadn't gotten the new futon she had promised, but that was fine. When the weather was cold, they could snuggle together cosily in bed, and when it was hot, turning on the AC would feel heavenly.

For his state of mind, Shouichi felt significantly better. He knew he was recovering when he started paying attention to the little things and looking back at events objectively.

One thing that had been nagging at him for the past couple of days was Suzuki's motive. His experience in Kurohashi had taught him not to be so gullible as to believe she was simply a saint helping him out of pure kindness. That altruistic deed just didn't sit right with him. Nothing in this world was ever truly free.

Strangely enough, Suzuki had started bringing her work home. Shouichi noticed that with each passing day, she returned earlier than usual. On this particular Friday night, she arrived at 5:35 PM — the earliest she had ever been home. Humming gleefully with shopping bags in hand, she strolled in.

"That's too suspicious. Not only did she come home early, but she also went shopping," He thought.

"Oh! Did you make dinner for me? How considerate, fufufu," She giggled upon seeing him in an apron, stirring a pot.

"Here! I bought you some casual clothes," She said, holding up a bag.

"Woah, thank you so much. You really shouldn't have," He said humbly, peeking inside. A couple of T-shirts and shorts lay neatly folded.

"It's alright! Even though we're roughly the same size, I figured you shouldn't be wearing my clothes…" She clarified before quickly backtracking. "I mean, I don't mind you wearing my clothes or anything like that."

She panicked a little. It was true that while Shouichi was taller and slim, Suzuki had large bosoms — anything smaller than a size M would suffocate her.

"I'm not judging," Shouichi reassured her.

Just then, something he had been stir-frying started to burn, and the smoke detector blared.

"Shouichi-kun!" Suzuki shouted, eyes wide with alarm as she pointed to the stove. She dashed forward, swiftly turning off the gas and moving the smoking pan to the sink. With a flick of the faucet, cool water rushed over the burnt food, sending up a hiss of steam.

"Oh, my bad," Shouichi apologised, watching her agile movements.

"I didn't know you planned on serving charcoal for dinner," Suzuki teased. It was a little brutal, but he could take the joke.

"Well, half of it is your fault for distracting me," He retorted.

They exchanged glances before bursting into laughter. Shouichi realised he couldn't even remember the last time he had laughed like that. It was a rare, genuine moment that lifted a weight off his chest.

After taking turns in the shower, Shouichi sat idly on the sofa, waiting for her. Suzuki emerged from the bathroom, a sweet, lavender scent lingering in the air. Her damp hair was wrapped in a white towel. Dressed in a white T-shirt and shorts, she hesitated before settling beside him. Their shoulders brushed slightly due to the limited space on the couch.

"Hey, what are you doing?" She asked, noticing him staring blankly at the dark TV screen.

"I'm just waiting for you."

"Huh? That's weird," She remarked, unwrapping the towel and letting her hair fall gracefully. A fresh scent drifted toward him. Her dark locks were thick yet delicate, almost too perfect to be real.

"Yeah… I'm barely sane right now," He quipped with a grin.

"Hehehe!" She laughed, her hand resting on his shoulder. Her dark eyes locked onto his, lost in the mesmerising amber hue of his gaze.

"Right! I think you need to see something." A thought seemed to strike her as she dashed off to her bedroom. A few minutes later, she returned and handed him an envelope.

"What's this?" Shouichi asked, staring at it in surprise.

"It's Yoko's…" Suzuki's voice dropped to a whisper.

"Huh? Her suicide note?" He guessed, noting the sudden shift in her expression. Suzuki nodded, biting her lip.

"I'm sorry. I took the liberty of reading it since I worked on her case…" She explained carefully, ensuring there was no misunderstanding.

"That's alright. Would you mind giving me some space to read this?" Shouichi asked flatly, taking the letter in his hands.

"But… I wanted to stay by your side," She objected, her eyes pleading.

"Please, Suzuki-san," He insisted firmly. Seeing his resolve, she relented and left the room.

Yoko's Note

I'm sorry, Shouichi-kun.

If you're reading this, it means I have already left this world.

I regret leaving you all alone. You are my light, my love, and my life.

But the pain and suffering were unbearable. I wish I could turn back time and be happy. I dreamt of a future with you in it.

I wish I could have just forgotten all the bad things. I wish I could have been a better mother to you.

But I couldn't. And it's all my fault.

I'm sorry for the hurtful words I said and the horrible things I did. I didn't mean any of it.

I failed miserably, and I wish I could take it all back.

I wish I could be there for you. I wish I was stronger.

I'm sorry.

May I ask one last thing?

It might be a selfish request, but please, please, please.

Look ahead to the future and find happiness for yourself.

Just thinking about that would make me happy.

I'm sorry.

Yamamoto Yoko

That was the end of Yoko's letter. Her final words to Shouichi.

His eyes fixated on the paper, but soon, his vision blurred as sudden tears welled up. He wiped them away with the back of his hand, but it was futile. The sadness overflowed, unstoppable.

One last mourn for the precious love he had lost.

Shouichi solemnly closed his eyes, clasped his hands over his face, and whispered his plea.

"Yoko-san… if you can hear my prayer, I want to say — I'm sorry for everything. I hope I can move on and fulfil your last wish…"