Failure. — 2025.09.07

Note;

Unserious mentions of suicide. Unserious hook-up talk.

… Nothing went well. What had he been expecting, in the first place?

 Things had gone worse than horrible, leaving with full of hurt and confusion— He had found an escape in alcohol long time ago, yet at the moment it tasted just as bland as his daily living felt. There was a slight burning in his throat as he brought the bottle to his lips, chugging down the liquid without a single care anymore.

 He was a mess, wasn’t he? No more than a pathetic animal. Red warmth dribbled down the corner of his lips, staining his half undone shirt. His body felt warm, and his mind was fuzzy, eyes half open as he stared at the ceiling deep in thought. The cold night caressed his tense body, and another sip of the beverage brought him deeper into his loneliness. 
 Tossing yet another empty bottle away, he panted for air and closed his eyes as it hit the ground, landing beside a few other bottles. His eyebrows knit together with both shame and sorrow, and a choked sob escaped his throat. Shinji wipes his wet lips with the back of his hand, cleaning off the wine that had dripped down— It was pathetic. He was pathetic. The nausea was overwhelming.

A pitiful, undignified sight; someone like him—a man usually so composed, so arrogant—sitting back against the door with his face tear-stricken and puffy from all the crying. He sniffles while continuing to repeatedly rubbing at his damp eyes, even once the sobs begin to intensify, strangled cries prying his trembling lips open. Snot dribbles from his nose and tears run down his skin the more he tries to soothe himself into a calmer state. 

He looks disgusting, he feels disgusting. A whirlwind of thoughts and sensations stir within him, and although the self-consciousness and disappointment remain, they begin to fade into a deeper, far stronger sentiment. Resentment, perhaps; burning hotter in his veins with every little thought picking apart his sensitive heart. He feels unwanted, and it his stomach churn with a sickening anger. The alcohol merely worsens his situation, poking at even his slightest insecurity, and making every emotion all the more intense. 
It shouldn’t matter, as this wasn’t even that much of an issue to begin with— He got rejected. Big deal. It doesn’t even matter. The endless hours he spent planning, and daydreaming of a live he wouldn’t have, none of it was even of that much importance, she wasn’t even all that, either. No reason to feel upset when he could do so much better, he deserves better, after all. 

Kamuro slumps further down against the door, until he’s almost laying on the floor. Over and over again, he repeats to himself that he deserves better than this, than loneliness and misery. If she actually loved him, wouldn’t she have accepted his proposal? It probably wasn’t even real, must be a cruel attempt to play him like a fool.
 And that, he was. He truly was a fool, an idiot with a heart too big for his chest. 

Flimsily justified resentment blooms within, mingling with anger and disappointment, beginning to spill. At this point, he couldn’t tell if the uncomfortable, itching warmth in his body came from having drank so much or from the pesky emotions cursing his heart. A ragged sigh escapes the attorney’s quivering lips, hand raising to comb through his unruly hair with growing frustration as unpleasant memories from earlier in the night continue to resurface.
The stares at the restaurant, the weight of her response—or lack of, thereof—and his breaking heart; just remembering makes the anger coursing through his veins boil hotter. Kamuro’s body begins to tremble weakly, and every gesture ceases entirely, with his teeth sinking down onto his bottom lip and his hands locking in place before pulling harshly at strands of his hair.

A wavering scowl pulls at the corner of his lips, and he sniffles as he brings his knees close to his chest. Having had put so much effort and thought on what he thought would’ve been a special night, time on fantasizing about something he had always been afraid of. Of course rejection would make him feel unwanted, especially with how badly he wants that woman.

“Want”, is however, a complete understatement, as it does not in any way express the true extent of his desperate affections. She’s right, he needs her; he needs her like the air he breathes, and craves to have her presence by his side almost every day. He yearns, and yearns… And yearns. To reach this point of desperation is as humiliating as it can get, yet he’s in too deep to turn back. 

He tries to constantly remind himself of how awful everything had gone earlier tonight, but his brain just redirects its thinking towards how breathtakingly beautiful she looked, the intoxicating sensation of her lips on his— He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, rapidly shaking his head to get rid of such thoughts, failing miserably at it. More tears fall from his eyes, this time from sheer frustration rather than mere sadness. How to describe his behavior in any way other than pathetic, when a mere kiss of hers had him acting like him like some desperate animal? After getting his marriage proposal rejected, no less… Instead of focusing on his anger like he should, he was reminiscing on her touch, and it provoked a series of complicated emotions within him. 

Maybe he should just kill himself, honestly. 

In between suffocating depression and dizzying desire, thinking properly becomes a hassle, he wasn’t even sure of what exactly he was supposed to feel anymore. Anger? Or what? Maybe he should just forget about it and forgive such cruel rejection he was given, then he could go back to clinging to her and this time not ever let go, it wasn’t like he had much dignity left— No. Why willingly put himself through more humiliation? He was better than this. Instead, why not walk away? That made more sense. He totally didn’t need her, whoever said he did was delusional and plain wrong.

 He does not need her company, he does not want her, not in the slightest, Shinji muses—though the unmistakable blush on his cheeks and tears on his moist face speaks volumes louder than his thoughts—if they are not to get married, then there is no reason to keep up with the exclusivity. 

Wiping at his damp eyes, the lawyer weakly gets onto his feet, for a moment merely standing there while lost in thought. He wobbles, and then makes his way towards his bed before tossing himself face-down onto it. He sighs loudly. If they won’t get married, then their relationship wasn’t as serious, was it? Exclusivity be damned, he has no reason to dedicate himself solely to her if she doesn’t think he’s good enough for marriage. 

He could fill the vacant space in his heart with meaningless flings, as he’s done for so many years. Or, hell, maybe he could find another woman to date. Who was going to stop him from doing so? It was after all—in his mind—only fair to look for something that could make him feel whole. Whether it was a serious relationship, or mere flings. 

Looking for another girlfriend wouldn’t hurt, and it wasn’t like he didn’t tell her he wanted to take a break. She couldn’t blame him, either! Kamuro rolls onto his back, unreadable gaze locking on the ceiling, he was no longer crying, and though was still visibly upset about everything that had gone down, he wasn’t as angry anymore. After all, as bad as this was it had also opened a whole lot of new paths for him. 
Finding someone new would not be hard at all, considering the lifestyle he once held. 

Next week. Next week things would go back to normal and he’ll be in the search for another partner, but for now, he will just focus on processing his failed marriage proposal instead. Lazily, he rolls onto his side and curls against himself, closing his eyes in the search for much needed rest. He’ll be feeling better in no time.

Not tonight, though. 

He does not sleep in the entire night, and he actually resumes crying shortly after.