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One Hour Earlier…

Kagome stands with her arms crossed over her chest, as she watches the metal door swing to a clamorous close. Sucking in a shaky, ragged breath through her nostrils, Kagome exhales as she turns on her feet and heads for the couch once again. Placing herself cautiously onto the dented cushions, she grabs the blanket that had drifted to the floor and places it onto her body.

The events from the night prior swim through her present memory, and an awkward, embarrassed feeling surfaces in her stomach. From the computer in the corner of the room, Yuuto could feel the shame and humiliation radiating off of the seemingly bashful girl on the couch. The blue light from the monitor shines upon his ebony complexion, as his eyes intently scan the image of his own car parked in that ominous parking garage.

Kagome hugs a pillow closer to her chest, and cuddles her chin into the plushness of the material. There was a mortifyingly awkward silence hanging over the room, and Kagome basked in every second of it. Though her mouth unmoving, her mind raced with a multitude of thoughts and feelings, all revolving around one person in particular: Yuuto Matsuo.

Despite the hysteric scene in the bathroom just one night before, Kagome never forgot the words Yuuto said to her on the balcony - with that sincere, warm expression he wore on his face. Kagome sneakily turns around in her seat, and her eyes lay on Yuuto’s hunched figure at the desktop. Without warning, her heart begins to beat faster at the mere sight of the boy.

“I still fell in love with you the minute I laid my eyes on you.”

At the memory, Kagome thrashes her body back forward as a blush creeps its way onto her ears. This feeling - this overwhelming emotion swelling within her chest was not so much unfamiliar - but very unwelcome in the confines of Kagome’s heart. No matter who, no matter when, no matter where she felt this feeling, it was always fleeting.

The people she’s felt like this for - her father, her mother, and even Junko - all shared one common denominator: they all left her. It was like a curse, for whomever Kagome loved, they never stayed - no matter how much Kagome tried. Her pure love alone was never enough to make the people she cared for most stay by her side.

Gripping the edges of the soft pillow in her arms, Kagome squints her eyes as her heart continues to beat rapidly. What would have happened, if she stayed there, on the balcony? What would she have said? Mulling these questions over repeatedly in her mind, the blush on her face never ceases.

“Take it back.”

Her knuckles turn white at the tightness of her clutch on the innocent pillow as her mind teases her with reality. She needed to say that - she needs to push him away, so that he will always stay by her side. If her true emotions were to show, the cycle would repeat, and Yuuto would leave her… just like everyone else.

“You can’t do this to me, Yuuto! Not you, it can’t be you. I need…”

You.

Kagome needs him, with every fiber in her body. Yuuto is her rock, her guiding light in the darkest storm. He’s the blood that flows through her veins, and the bones that help her stand. He paints her the blues in the morning sky, and the shadows in the starry nights. For her, he would do anything - he always has, and he always will.

Fixing her eyebrows upwards, Kagome turns around once again, and looks to the technician at the computer. Sighing a deep, hopeless breath, Kagome stands from the couch, and cautiously makes her way to Yuuto. Without turning his gaze, the boy could tell by the light footsteps padding against the creaking floor that Kagome is approaching. She arrives, and stands at a distanced position about three feet behind Yuuto’s chair.

Crossing her arms once more, she rocks forwards and backwards and her feet. The floorboards beneath her squeak as her weight shifts to and fro, causing Yuuto to turn his head slightly and side-eye the awkward girl. Kagome’s eyes go wide at the eye contact, and immediately stops rocking.

“Can you stop being weird, Kagome?” Yuuto asks, bringing his gaze back to the computer screen, “Your awkwardness is giving me a migraine.” Kagome’s mouth parts, and her crossed arms unwind as her hands travel to her hips.

“I’m not being weird!” Kagome debunks, with her voice ringing in a defensive tone. Yuuto sighs at her comeback, and keeps his sight trained on the video, “You are, and you have no reason to be.”

Placing his hand onto the mouse beside his keyboard, Yuuto swallows a puddle of saliva before continuing. “I told you already, it’s fine if you don’t feel the same. I’m not offended, I promise. I just wanted to tell you how I felt, because I had been holding it in for a while. Looking back, that probably wasn’t the best time to tell you, and I’m sorry-”

“I never said I don’t feel the same.”

At the declaration, Yuuto immediately turns around in his chair. With his mouth parted, his gaze holds a sincere, whole-hearted hope that swims through the browns and greens of his eyes. “What?” Yuuto asks, disbelief coursing through his voice, “Don’t say that… just to make me feel better - just to get my hopes up, Kagome.”

Darting her eyes away from the skeptical boy in front of her. “I’m not,” She assures, her voice serious and steady, “You know me, I wouldn’t do something like that.” Yuuto’s face fades into one of immense joy, and a bright blush could be seen even atop his darker complexion. “Why didn’t you say that earlier?” He asks, confusion lacing his words.

“Why did you try and push me away?” Kagome’s head turns to the expectant boy, asking all the important questions she did not wish to answer. She begins to fidget with her fingers, and returns to shifting her weight from foot to foot. Yuuto notices this apparent apprehension to the topic, but waits for her answer amidst the looming silence.

Kagome sighs, and rolls her head on her neck. She feels tears beginning to pursue her tear ducts, and her bottom lip quivers softly. Placing her gaze back onto the boy in front of her, Kagome bites back a sob as she parts her lips: “I’m pushing you away, because I need you by my side.”

Yuuto blinks at the strange and vague response, while his forehead creases with confusion. “What does that even mean?” Yuuto asks, standing from his seat as he places the small earbuds onto the desk behind him. The communication between him and the field officers cuts off, as he approaches the saddened Kagome before him.

“Yuuto… I love you. I love you so much that it hurts!” Kagome states as her voice breaks from the suppressed cries shelved in her lungs, “I loved my Dad, my Mom, and Junko too! All of them - everyone I’ve ever loved this much - leaves me! They always leave, Yuuto! And I can’t… I can’t lose you, too.”

Sniffling back her traveling mucus, Kagome’s voice quiets down. “So, I’d rather you hate me, and stay - than love me, and leave me,” She says, finally speaking her mind after all this time. Yuuto stands before her, just a step away, and he watches the singular tear fall down her red cheeks.

Reaching his hand out, he wipes away the salty streak from her face. “Without the fear of loss in love, what’s the point of loving at all?” He asks, attempting to shift Kagome’s perspective. Kagome looks up to him, and he stares down into her wet, puzzled, brown eyes.

“I mean, without loss and rejection, you could have anyone you want. No one would reject you. Nobody would be special to you because you could just have.... anyone. The fear of losing someone is what makes that person you love special, and it’s all the more reason to love them harder. The fear of loss is what makes people closer. It’s human to be scared of that idea, but it’s exactly why you should embrace love, not run away from it.”

Kagome’s lips part after his words, and she continues to stare up at the man before her. “But… I-I’m still scared,” Kagome admits in a whisper, not wanting to hide anything from Yuuto anymore. He smiles, and cups her face with the same hand that wiped away her tear. “Love is a scary thing,” Yuuto agrees, dragging his eyes over every inch of her face, “But, would you be willing to face your fear, for me? For us?”

Taking a moment to relish in his question, she realizes the depth of his words. Would she be willing to push aside her doubts, and trust and love him, as she says she does? Despite her worries and fears, could Kagome brave through her repetitive history and put faith in this boy she holds so dearly?

Did Kagome think he was worth all of that?

Darting her eyes between each one of his gleaming, soft eyes, Kagome’s heart rate begins to speed up. Swallowing one last gulp of worry, she sets aside her doubts, and nods her head. The response makes Yuuto’s mouth curl into an overjoyed smile, and his white teeth shine with happiness.

Yuuto brings his free hand to the other side of Kagome’s face, and bounces his elated gaze all over her features. May it be her mind racing alongside her heart, but Kagome feels Yuuto lean closer to her face. Her heart begins to throw itself against her ribcage, and a deep, red blush emerges on her cheeks. Just when he comes close enough, the metal door obtrusive swings open - making the two spring apart in embarrassment.

However, the person that greets them causes their once erratic hearts to immediately drop to their stomachs.

Junko whips through the streets as Jiro clasps his arms around her taut torso. Distant police sirens echo against the tall buildings crowding the sides of the street. The neon signs and lights around her swirl into a tunnel that leads her straight to her father’s apartment, where the truth awaits her divided mind.

Mamoru Fukumoto - the man who raised her into the woman she has grown to be - is suspected of falsifying the legitimacy of the Task Force he assigned his daughter to, along with four other young adults. Not only that, but, rather than being just some illegitimate police squadron, he was suspected of creating a group of assassins, killing targeted civilians for money.

Junko shakes her head of the ludicrous thought, for the man she knew was harsh, but nowhere near as sinister as that idea. She even owned a badge, and had vivid memories of traveling to her father’s work when she was a child. Mamoru took her on patrols, and let her help with ‘paperwork’ for the precinct. There was no way her father would do something so abhorrent, not in a million years.

Behind her sits Jiro, whose eyes cloud over in immense disbelief and incredulousness. All these years since Takashi Shimizu died, he vowed to avenge the man that took the role of a father. Devoting his life to becoming a police officer - and sliding right into the shoes of his deceased father - Jiro took on a role he would never have imagined he would submit to.

Through all of his efforts, his blood, sweat and tears, the tireless hours he allotted towards his goal - he never once questioned his father’s honor. Takashi Shimizu was a respectable man, and a reputable officer at that. Through his life, and even after his death, Jiro looked up to the man he had come to call Dad.

Now, with this new doubt brought upon him, Jiro has no clue what to believe. Was it all a lie? Did he kill hundreds of people deplorably, and for nothing at all? Instead of protecting Tokyo, was he the criminal all along? Jiro’s heart beats faster with each passing moment, and he feels the stability of his mind slowly slipping away.

Junko makes a sharp turn, and the blue cap sitting upon Jiro’s head falls off, and drifts through the wind behind the motorcycle. Turning his body, he watches the baseball hat stumble upon the street - to be run over by passing cars pushing past. After keeping his eyes trained for a moment longer, Jiro drags his eyes back forward, and rests his head on Junko’s soft shoulder.

About ten minutes later, the two best friends sprint up the stairs of Mamoru’s apartment building, and head straight towards his penthouse suite. No sound comes from either of them, except the pounding of the soles of their shoes colliding against the never ending staircase they ascend. Breaths of raggedy, hollowness fall past their lips as their lungs grow tired from the constant elevation.

Eventually, they reach Mamoru’s floor, and bust through the heavy door - exiting the staircase, and sprinting to his home. The carpeted floor beneath them muffles the thuds of their exasperated footsteps, and they push forward onto their destination.

Reaching Mamoru’s doorway, Junko and Jiro look between themselves, and catch their breath together as they communicate with their eyes. They are nervous beyond comparison, and dreading whatever truth lay beyond the door before them. Once their breaths balance out, Junko raises her fist to knock.

“Wait,” Jiro stops, putting his hand out in front of Junko. His eyes train on the door knob, and Junko’s eyes follow his own gaze. “It’s already open…” Junko’s eyebrows crease as she thoroughly analyzes the doorway. Looking closely, she notices that the door in front of her sits ajar.

Unclasping her fist, Junko pushes the wood door open, and steps into the apartment with Jiro in tow. Bringing her gaze up, Junko’s heart stops beating, and an indescribable confusion washes over her mind. Jiro steps in and positions himself beside her, and analyzes the room as well. His own eyes land upon that same, confusing scene, and causes his heart to drop to his stomach.

“Junko Fukumoto, Jiro Shimizu,” The man before them greets, a sickly sarcastic tone ringing in his voice, “I was wondering when you two would show up.” Jiro’s lips part, and Junko’s eyebrows draw together at the sight. Simultaneously, the two best friends speak:

“Kei Okazaki?”
“Daku Aoki…”