Bad Decisions

Things are… tense now.

My hands fumble with the keys to my apartment, attempting to balance my bag of groceries at the same time, and I curse audibly each time I try the wrong key.

Heh, “groceries”, I sincerely doubt the handful of instant meals and case of beer can be called that.

I find the right key finally, pushing the door open with my hip, and stumbling to kick off my shoes before setting the bag down in the kitchen. I open the first can before my meal is finished cooking, the first of many tonight, and I flop myself down in the chair in front of my TV. I’m not actually watching anything, just flicking through dozens of channels to kill time as I wait for the frozen meat and potatoes to finish heating up.

*DING*

I pull myself out of the chair, crushing the empty can in my hand as I shuffle to the kitchen. Dropping the tin cylinder on the counter, I pull the steaming hot meal out of the microwave, cursing audibly at the stinging pain I receive from touching it. I pull another beer out of the fridge, popping it open as I wait for the food to cool, grimacing at the taste of the lukewarm liquid.

One partially inedible meal and several beers later I find myself in the same place as always.

Face buried in my hands as I struggle to keep the memories from catching up to me again.

I feel like a piece of string anymore, like two invisible hands are pulling me taut, waiting for me to eventually break from the stress. It’s usually my own fault I break, alcohol being the catalyst that makes me snap and remember her.

Shizune.

God it’s been a year, but I can still feel her around. I moved out of the old house and into this apartment building that Shiina just so happened to live in. We had stayed friends, the three of us, after school ended. I don’t know why I chose here specifically to live, though it’s probably because Shiina lives here too, and talking to her has helped a lot. We don’t talk much recently though, she doesn’t like me drinking, but I just can’t handle it sometimes.

What hits me hardest about it all is that I wasn’t there when she died. I was at home, cooking dinner for us both when it happened. She was mugged on her way home from work, the man taking everything she had, and from what the police said witnesses reported that he was attempting to force himself on her.

Compared to what happened I think I would rather he forced himself on her.

He shot her, simple as that, spooked by the person who’d witnessed it. The ambulance didn’t make it on time, a traffic collision holding them up, and she bled out in that alley. The only consolation was that they caught him, but that was shit compared to the cost. Her funeral was the last time I saw Jigoro. He wouldn’t look at me, I don’t blame him, and Hideaki was blubbering into Akira’s chest when they lowered her casket.

I tip the can back, emptying the contents into my stomach, enjoying the buzz when I’m suddenly disturbed.

*BEEP*

I glare at the phone, wondering who could want to bother me at this hour, and I’m surprised to find that it’s Shiina. The text is simple, asking if she can come over, and despite my better judgment I tell her yes. I open another beer, tossing the empty on the counter, and cleaning the tears off my face.

*KNOCK*

I let her in, saying nothing as I pound back the beer and head for another. I’ve got twenty or so left, I think, and I’ll be damned if I can’t finish them all tonight.

“That’s not good for you Hisao,”

Her statement is blunt and true, but I really couldn’t give two fucks. Drinking dulls it all, and keeps dreams of her away. To my surprise she’s taken one too, and I realize she wasn’t talking about the beer, she meant the instant meals. Chuckling half-heartedly I sit back down in my chair, Shiina sitting on the love-seat nearby.

We’re dead quiet, the only noise coming from the TV, and I notice she hasn’t opened the beer yet. I’m not surprised, never took her for a drinker, but I catch a glance of her eyes. There’s this hollowness to them, this emptiness that I can’t quite place, but it makes me even sadder than normal.

“Does this make the dreams go away for you?”

Her voice is barely audible, and she trembles slightly. She’s on the edge, pulled taut like me, but I don’t think she’s snapped before. I nod to her, taking another sip of beer, and she pops her’s open. She makes this bitter face after taking a sip, but quickly begins to down the alcohol. I’m shocked at how fast it goes down, and we alternate going to the fridge for more.

An hour later the case is almost empty, both of us in a drunken haze when it happens.

I don’t know when, but I’ve gravitated to the love-seat. We’re kissing now, fumbling around in each other’s mouths like horny teenagers, and I notice both our faces are wet.

I-I’ve gotta stop this… this is wrong.

The good side of my brain is far overshadowed by the alcohol, and our clothes start coming off. My vision is so blurry I can’t even appreciate her form, nor can I even find her opening to push myself into. Thankfully she’s sober enough to guide me in, and I break through what I guess is her hymen. She doesn’t even wince, alcohol dulling the pain, and we start rutting like animals. No words are spoken during the act, just grunts and moans amongst the background noise of the television and the sound of our sexes colliding.

I’ve already come inside her before I realize there’s no condom on, and after the climax passes shame floods my body.

She’s passed out on the couch, I don’t know if she went during the act or after, and I cover her with a blanket before I rush to the restroom. I hover over the bowl, emptying the contents of my stomach before hurriedly washing the taste out with water from the sink. I look up afterwards, disgusted at my own face, and the post-sex glow I wear.

I-I don’t know what to do…

Should I go back into the living room and sleep next to her?

Should I go sleep in my room?

I curse that I only bought one case, that I can’t just drink until I pass out as normal and deal with this in the morning, but I have to deal with this now.

I go back to Shiina, putting my boxer back on, and crouch down next to her.

She looks peaceful, like an angel, and she wears a slight smile. I brush her brown bangs out of her face, and she mumbles something as she grasps my hand.

“Sh-Shiccha-…”

Her voice drops off near the end, and I sigh as my body slumps to the floor.

What the hell am I going to do now?