[Louise-sama] Thin Walls

Thin Walls | Louise-sama

Shinoda Mariko | Kojima Haruna | Matsui Jurina


Sometimes, all it takes is a knock on your door in the middle of a stormy night to realize what had been missing in your life. That was what happened to me.

     I heard a loud knock at my door. Maybe Jurina forgot her keys again. I got up from the couch and dragged myself towards the door. The abrupt awakening from slumber made my eyelids seem heavy, leaving them half-lidded. I didn’t bother to peek through the peephole and skipped to turn the knob open, only to reveal someone I never thought I would see at my door step.

     It was raining heavily outside, and on her, the rain looked like diamond shards, damping her long, brown hair. But as I looked down at her unusual stiff stance, I don’t think that mattered to her right now. This is getting pretty odd.

     I could tell she had been crying and it was obvious that she was just trying to hold back her tears. Somewhere inside me, a voice was pleading for me to close my eyes. It shook me to see her like this. I wonder, was this how she looked like when we broke up?



     Definitely, she looked this helpless.

     “I-Is Jurina here?” she asked me while blinking hard, averting her eyes the moment she met my surprised ones briefly. After a few failed attempts to hide her face, she averted her stare down to her damped stiletto heels—which I bet is killing her, now that her outfit is ruined.

     “Um,” I tried to regain eye-contact with her but she was constantly avoiding my gaze. “It’s cold out here. Why don’t you get inside first?” I offered and opened the door wider for her. Raising an eyebrow at her, I impatiently waited for a response but she didn’t move an inch from her spot, signifying her disapproval on the idea.

     “Haruna…” I groaned, “it’s raining. Are you really trying to get yourself sick?”

     She sighed in annoyance and glared at me. “Is Jurina home?” she asked again, this time, with a firm, sure voice and I could perfectly tell how hard she had tried to mask her near-to-breaking-down-voice. It wasn’t the fact that she had those puffy, red eyes, or the glistening film that masked her pain—it was more than that. Maybe she was just too easy to read. Or maybe, dating her for a year and making her cry every night made me good at reading her. I couldn’t possibly tell which one was it.

     “Still as stubborn as always, I see,” I muttered before forcefully pulling her inside before she even had a chance to retort back a knowing complaint. She jerked inside, not trying to mask the confusion in her face.

     “Hey, what are you doing?!” she yelled, almost tripping on her own feet. She stepped inside with much hesitation and restraint. She was so drenched by the untimely summer rain that my hand was now soaked from the dripping water from her arm. I looked past my shoulder and found her hair, flat as a damp squib, and her mascara was beginning to smudge.

     I released my grip from her. “I’ll get you something to wipe yourself. Wait here,” I ordered her before walking towards the closet to pull out a towel. Knowing Haruna, she would want the prettiest one. And luckily for her, I’m keeping a fluffy, pink towel. I lazily closed the closet with my foot and walked back to her.

      I found her by the door, staring at an old mood lamp nearby. The faint light emanating from the lamp illuminated her soft, pained expression. One that only I got to see when she wanted to say something bad about her day. I haven’t seen that in a while. If it wasn’t too ironic, I’d like to say that I want to see that again everyday. Maybe she already noticed that it was the same lamp that we bought together on our fifth month. It wasn’t until now that I actually noticed that it was still there.

      I approached her slowly. “Here,” I handed the towel while she squeezed her clothes lightly, extracting the rainwater from the fabric.

      “You should sit down,” I motioned her to the couch, and as she stared blankly at it, I realized the reason for the sudden twinkling of her eyes.

     It was the couch where we stepped out of the friendship line and admitted our love for each other; the couch where we used to cuddle while watching her favorite dorama; the couch where we shared our sloppy, first kiss; the couch where I counted all her moles under her shirt; the couch where she sang her favorite lullaby for me after losing in janken; the couch where we slept in each other’s arms; the couch where we found each other’s sensitive skins; the couch where I pinned her back against and she ripped my favorite shirt out of excitement.

     It was the couch where I slammed her back during our first fight; the couch where I shouted at her, and she shouted back for the first time; the couch where I saw her cry countless times; the same couch where everything ended, like a firework vanishing in the night sky after exploding.

     For all the sweet memories we shared on that couch, the bitter ones remained the heaviest, bringing up unwanted distance between us.

     She shook her head, regaining her hostile look.

     “Seriously, Haruna. Have a seat. Jurina should be home soon from work,” I said dully. Still failing to convince her to bite my offer, I ran my fingers through my hair—it was a habit when I’m frustrated. True enough, I was frustrated and near enraging. She never really changed. She was still hard to convince after all these months. I paused and started to think.

     “Or if you want, you can wait inside her room.” I quickly said as soon as I had thought of that option. After all, I wouldn’t want to stay silent with her in my living room for the whole moment that my sister hadn’t arrived.

     She didn’t say anything in response but she proceeded to remove her nude stilettos and left them on the mat. After wiping her arms and body, she brought the towel to her damp hair and wrapped it around.

     “Where are my slippers?” she asked me.

     I blinked at her, warily. Her slippers? Were they still here? She must had noticed my lost look as she spoke.

     “I just presumed that you still have them since this used to be my towel,” she said as she pointed at the initials embroidered on the edge of the towel.

     “You didn’t notice, did you?” she asked, and I thought I heard a bit of sadness in her voice. I didn’t want to lie and I know I wouldn’t be able to lie to her either.

     “To be honest—no. I didn’t,” I admitted and she sighed.

     “That’s what I thought.”

     I walked back to the closet and searched for her slippers if they were still there where I last recalled. I found them at the back, hidden from the light and sight of anyone. Her pink, fluffy slippers. The ones that she originally bought for me. But because she felt comfortable wearing it, she traded her favorite beanie instead, with the addition of a searing kiss. The beanie was thrown away by herself when she smelled an ‘unfamiliar scent of another girl’. I told her that it was just because I changed my shampoo but she insisted that I had been cheating on her. I could had laughed at the stupidity of the memory, but tonight wasn’t a good time.

     As I stare at the pair of slippers, I started to wonder why I still kept her things inside this closet. It was full of her stuff that she brought during countless sleep overs.

     Have I really moved on or am I still expecting something out of us? Because even now, I could still remember every detail of her—her fragrant scent, her tickling touch, her sweet smile, her knowing stare, her soft lips against mine. I don’t know. All I know is that I shouldn’t be the one chasing the lost catch. I was the one who ended it up. I was the one who pushed her out of the door while she clung to my body in resistance.

     I took out her unexpectedly free-from-dust-slippers and placed them on the floor, right in front of her feet.

     “Here,” I told her and glanced at her sad expression. “You need anything more?” I asked. I honestly wanted to make up to her in any way I could, but I didn’t know how.

     “No,” she replied flatly.

     I was never acquainted to her one-word answers. Either she still hates me or she was not in a good mood. I wonder if she would cry once she got inside Jurina’s room. To cry herself to sleep—that idea pinches my heart. Oh, how I pity her right now.

     She made her way to Jurina’s room and she did not bother to look back in the process. All she did was open the door and close it squarely behind her. I could hear the click it made when she locked the door. God, I felt bad for not loving her the way she wanted me to.

     I could hear her crying, the sobs and the struggle for precious air. Were the walls always this thin? I stared at the closed the door and I can’t help but wonder why she was crying. Did she always cry like this when we were still together? With such audible pain? With gushing despair? Was she always wallowing in sorrow because of me?

     Whenever I think about the two of us… I don’t know… We just don’t mix well like we—everyone had expected. Maybe we weren’t really meant for each other. When we used to date, it felt like we were strangers—in love with someone we thought we knew. It went fair, really. But then we carried our own perfect picture of love around, and we found out that we weren’t the ones in it. She hadn’t given up her fantasy—I hadn’t either. We had grown up divergent without knowing it.

     Even though she doesn’t want to believe me, I still do care for her. I always had. Always will. She is really someone special in my life and I am grateful for all the times that we were together.

     Last time I heard from Jurina, Haruna started dating again. Yuko even told me the girl’s name but I couldn’t remember. Was it Takamina or Bakamina? I’m not sure about that. I wonder if the girl was the same reason why Haruna was crying. She is just the sensitive type, and if her lover isn’t careful towards her, she would easily cry. It is one of her best traits, I think—the fact that she can cry so freely. I always thought it was cute. But it was more of a double edged sword since I hated to see her cry.

     I walked closer to the door. From outside, I could hear her light sobs. With all the muffled sounds, she was probably crying into a pillow, not because she was hiding. Knowing Haruna, she probably wanted to be held. She hated the feeling of loneliness. She was never good at handling it and could never stand it.

     She was alone and it made me want to protect her. Just like when we were a little younger, I remember promising that I’ll always be there for her. I hated breaking my word, especially because I know what it’s like to be alone. How cold it can feel, how dark it seems. How weak one can get and how hard it is to back up. She was just so weak and fragile like a delicate flower during winter. All she probably wanted was a warm hand on her shoulder. Maybe that explains why she was desperate to come all the way to my house despite the rain—she needed company. She must be hugging the pillow more for support, and to wipe her tears, clenching to it because loneliness is devouring her soul.

     And here I was—standing outside my sister’s door—regretting the choice of sending the once, other-half-of-me to my sister’s dependable hope.

     Wasn’t I suppose to protect her from all of this? Didn’t I tell her that I would? Didn’t I promise her company no matter what? I remember it clearly. Haruna never broke her promises to me, but I broke mine. What a shame.

     I ghosted my fingertips on the doorknob, gently pushed my ears against the door and heard her light whimpers. I was deliberating in my mind whether to knock first or barge in, considering that I have a spare key to Jurina’s room.

     In the end, I decided to observe courtesy and knocked. “Haruna, do you need water?” I called from my current spot and didn’t get a response. I asked her again, knowing that she still doubts my concern, and she yelled ‘no.’ I heard how she sniffed and choked on her own word. She didn’t try to hide it as if intentionally to worsen the guilt I was feeling.

     “Can you open the door?” I carefully asked. I knew she was probably going to say ‘No! leave me alone.’ But I knew I had to try.

     I heard the front door open. I turned around and found Jurina standing there and putting away her umbrella.

     “Who’s here?” she asked me, “and why are you at my door?” She hung her coat and removed her wet sneakers in the process.

     “Haruna’s in your room,” I told her and moved away from her door.

     Jurina shot a surprised look towards me and marched to the door right away at the mention of her name. She tried to open the door but it was locked. “Haruna?” she called. Her voice sounded much softer than mine, rich of pure concern and care. I could hear Haruna stumble and she opened the door quickly. She rushed to Jurina as if she was her salvation. It was the complete opposite reaction to mine. I saw how Jurina’s face softened at the sight of her. She walked inside and hugged her at the door frame, hushing her cries, whispering the assurance that everything will be fine now that she was there. She didn’t seem to mind her cold body as she squeezed tighter. Not too long after, they went inside and closed the door behind them.

     I heard Haruna cry once more, much louder than before, pouring out everything she was holding back a while ago. She relied on Jurina’s shoulder to cry on.

     Probably, my sister’s hands are comforting her right now, wiping away her tears and holding her into a warm embrace.

     Suddenly, I got into thinking, when did it turn out like this? When did my younger sister take all my broken promises and kept them for me? When did she grow the shoulders Haruna had always wanted me to share?

     She makes me so proud yet makes me feel so ashamed of myself.


Louise-sama | Thin Walls | MariHaru OS | END


December 26 wasn’t the best day for me. Instead of  drowning myself in a pool of regrets, I decided to vent it out on this one. I just finished it overnight, but.. ╮(╯▽╰)╭  I hope you found it to your liking. Thank you for reading! 


~ by louise48sama on December 27, 2013.

6 Responses to “[Louise-sama] Thin Walls”

  1. Reblogged this on louise48sama.

  2. So sad… 😦 yet it‘s beautiful… I love it

    • Thank you~! I didn’t mean to write something sad right after Christmas but I was so overpowered by feelings of regret and such. Good for me because I love engaging with drama, hurt, and angst.

  3. Love love love. Thanks for writing this 🙂

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