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It was dark, midnight. The entire apartment was shrouded with a coldness and loneliness that filled every space. The bit of light from the walkway outside crept through the window, making just barely visible the detective who sat on the couch there. The coffee table had just a bottle and a cup, a cup whose insides were stained with alcohol. She thought what she drank would make her happier—and it did, in a physical sense. But the detective should’ve known that regardless of what she did, if left alone with her thoughts for too long, they were bound to go down a dark path.
She stared into the abyss of darkness surrounding her, lightly rocking forward and backward. She couldn’t keep still. Her head felt dazed, light, she felt… good. The sensation reminded her of that dizzying feeling she got when a certain gambler used to kiss her on the lips. The warmth of the contact, the sweet taste of Taeko's lips, the alluring, dark fragrance that was almost intoxicating.
How Kyoko would wrap her arms about the gambler, who would press herself on her. The two caught in a deep kiss, interconnected for those precious moments, holding onto each other for what she wished was an eternity. But it never lasted an eternity. And by now, it could no longer be a reality.
Imagining Taeko again… it was too much for her. Everything about her was so lovely. Her voice, her looks, her true self... her love for the detective. She grimaced. She wished she could have that feeling again. That softness and warmth inside of her, the coziness and security of having another person in the world who cared about her. Who was thinking about her. The detective frowned at herself; she was being selfish. So selfish. But she couldn’t help it.
Her world has always been isolated, dark and desolate like the apartment she sat in. Childhood came back in an abrupt memory. Her father has always been distant. Her mother… she was loved by her. Truly. But she was long gone now. Her grandfather… it was his pressures, his lack of empathy, his hellbent desire on her future as a detective that broke her. She lost her ability to feel, she forgot emotional response. She had to learn how to trust again.
Even now, his punishing ways still affected the detective. Why else would she be up drinking at midnight? She just got off a case, and she was exhausted. So exhausted, so sleep-deprived, she could hardly sleep. Insomnia seized her, and in attempts to make the hours her brain forced her awake any more pleasant, she decided to drink them away.
Those thoughts made it painfully obvious that she was alone. She did have friends, work acquaintances and such. But no one who loved her, and no one she loved any more, besides Taeko. She couldn’t stop thinking about her. And why? It had been five years. The five longest years of the detective’s life.
She remembered the moment they called it off. The moment they broke apart. It was a mutual decision. One that pierced down to the core of Kyoko’s heart. It stabbed into it, ripping it open relentlessly and leaving her to bleed out. She didn’t cry. It hurt too much to cry. She saw the regret in Taeko’s eyes as they decided. The desperation and pain that nothing could heal. She remembered the last time they saw each other.
How the gambler clung to her, crying softly and shaking. How when they finally came apart, a rift of blackness tore open between them, as both of them were plunged into their own hellish abyss and isolation. How the gambler’s eyes darkened, and the two went back to being perfect strangers. How Taeko Yasuhiro was lost and succumbed to Celestia Ludenberg. How Kyoko Kirigiri was once again a detective before herself. She wanted Taeko back... more than anything else.
Her thoughts echoed through the apartment. Silence answered her.
The detective decided that another cup wasn’t a bad idea. She was thinking too much. She had to wash those thoughts away.