wakasa imaushi…

Loving Wakasa Imaushi was not easy.
It never was.

Ever since she started getting more involved with Senju Akashi's gang, my place in her life began to fade. Not all at once, not obviously… but little by little, like a wound that doesn't bleed but hurts all the time.

The nights were the worst.

The clock struck one in the morning. Then two. Then three.
And I was still there, sitting on the bed, with my cell phone turned off so as not to give him the satisfaction of thinking I was waiting for him.

When I finally heard the door open, I didn't feel relief. I felt anger.

—Again? —I said without looking at him.

Wakasa slowly removed his gloves. He had a split lip and a dark stain on his shirt.

"Don't start," he murmured.

—Don't start what? Asking why my boyfriend comes home almost at dawn? Or why he always smells like her?

That made him stop.

—Don't talk nonsense.

"It's not nonsense," my voice trembled. "You call her 'princess,' Wakasa. You look at her like she's the most important thing in the room. Do you think I don't notice?"

The silence became unbearable.

"She is my leader," he finally replied. "And my responsibility."

"So what am I then?" I asked, my eyes burning. "A break between fights?"

Wakasa clenched her jaw.
—Don't make me choose.

That was worse than a slap.

We hardly spoke in the following days. When we did, we ended up arguing. I no longer asked him what time he would be back; he no longer said goodbye when he left.

Until one night I decided to go to the Brahman base.

I saw them before they saw me.

Senju was sitting on a table, laughing. Wakasa was in front of her, leaning forward, listening to her with rapt attention. When she put her arm around his shoulders, he didn't pull away.

I felt nauseous.

I turned around and left before they discovered me.

That night, when Wakasa arrived home, I already had my suitcases half packed.