Chapter Text
To love Rohan essentially meant to never get your hopes up.
He was a man of extreme passion for his work. Truly, an influence to all aspiring manga artists, with his unique art style and work ethic.
Though, you would hope that no one would try to love as he did.
How foolish of you to think a relationship with him would be as fulfilling and blissful as you hoped.
You were warned. Josuke and Okuyasu were baffled that you even had feelings for the artist. While Koichi didn't flat-out tell you that this was a hopeless endeavor, he did advise you that loving Rohan wouldn't be the easiest thing, let alone possible.
What exactly did you fall in love with? His forward, demanding attitude? A stubbornness to do anything by a method other than his own? The intensity of his kiss when he was having a bad day and all you wanted was to make him feel better?
To be the saint of someone who thinks he was some reincarnated deity was an overly romanticized fantasy on your part.
Art was his life so it always felt nice when he included you into his passion, whether as a subject for him to sketch, or in this case, bringing you along to an art gala in Paris. You allowed your mind to be full of romance. Nothing too big like him declaring his love for you on the Eiffel Tower. Just simple gestures. Holding your hand on a crowded boulevard, him--in his ever blunt and tactless way--remarking that you were as pretty as the Parisian cityscape at night, or the two of you enjoying the local cuisine together.
Were you asking so much of him?
You felt like extra baggage that he reluctantly dragged with him. Even when he proposed the trip, he didn't seem to enthralled by the gala. His invitation for you to come along was passive. How could you have missed the cracks already etched onto your relationship?
He barely paid attention to you, his attention either on his phone while communicating with his publicist, or him going out to take some references--you only went by requesting if you could join him, to which he huffed and remarked, "Doesn't matter much to me." Slowly but surely, you were becoming hollow to this so-called romance, to his cruel love.
It was your second to last night in Paris and he was at the gala by himself. Earlier in the day, you were hoping to spend the afternoon together--as he promised while en route to the city--he took off, saying something about needing to attend some press release. He casually mentioned that there would be a limo there to escort you. Nothing about him waiting for you to arrive. Not a single "I love you" as he departed.
You never felt so empty.
When he returned, it was late. The door swinging open, you heard the following:
"I'm back. You didn't show up-...what are you doing?"
Locking your luggage, you stood up and faced him, your gaze shaky but true in its determination. "I'm done, Rohan."
His eyes narrowed and became stern, "What are you saying?"
"I'm finished with you, Rohan, or whatever it was. I...I..." Your eyes filled with tears. "I never felt so alone in a relationship. I know you're not the easiest person to get along with, and I did have some good times with you, but I felt more pain than joy. I tried Rohan, I really tried. But there's not much to be done when you won't even attempt to give a damn about us."
At first, Rohan looked unfazed before he snorted, smirked even before he sneered, "Do you think I really care? You should be glad we even got together in the first place-!"
"And I was!" You cried out. "I really was happy when you said you felt the same way. But after all this time...I just can't keep going with you anymore. Looking at you hurts now."
His lip curled with complete disdain as he spat out, "Fine, go ahead and feel that way. But I won't be paying for your ticket back home."
"You act like I don't work as well, Rohan! I don't make as much as you, but I certainly have enough to leave you right now!"
You said what you needed to say. Whatever else he had to say--a jab, a word that you would regret leaving him--you wouldn't listen. Instead, you grabbed your belongings and stormed out the door.
Rohan faced forward, glaring at the hotel window. He couldn't even appreciate the glimpse of the empty Paris streets. Slowly, he turned towards the doorway, his gaze lingering before he snorted once more.
Whatever. Like he honestly gave a damn.
Though, with how long and busy his day was, it took quite the effort to actually fall asleep.
When he awoke, it was to the sound of his phone ringing. His hand nearly zoomed to the bedside table and quickly picked up the call, quickly uttering your name with disdain.
"Huh? Rohan, it's me, Koichi."
Disappointment was an understatement. Still, maintaining his haughty attitude--despite having just woken up--he remarked, "Ahh, my apologies, Koichi. It was uh...reflex."
"Did something happen between the two of you?" As instructed, Koichi had been stopping by his house daily to collect his mail and bring it inside--he didn't trust Josuke and Okuyasu around his defenseless mailbox that was for sure.
Rohan tensed for a moment before he huffed, "Of course not. And even if something did, it's normal for couples to have a spat and say some mindless bullshit that they don't mean."
"Then why do I see moving boxes in your living room?"
He felt his blood run cold. How could you have arrived in Japan so quickly? It was then that he looked out the window once more. By now, Paris was entering the late afternoon. His teeth gritted together. With a long flight back home, he thought you would've been fatigued and needed to rest--hopefully enough for you to come to your senses.
You had meant what you said.
"Rohan?"
"Stall."
"...what?"
Rohan growled out your name, "Whatever happens, just keep things under control until I get back! I will be the one to have the last word on this!" He hung up before Koichi could get another word out, only to quickly call up his publicist.
"Ah, hello Mr. Kishibe. Good to hear from you. The Seine River cruise dinner is still scheduled for tonight, so please be ready by-"
Rohan stood up from the bed, "I'm leaving."
"...I beg your pardon?"
His fingers clutched his phone with an irritated grip, "Get me a plane ticket back to Japan. Now. I need to go back home."
"On such short notice? B-But the dinner! And to get a ticket would be greatly expensive, assuming there are still seats available! If you're so insistent on leaving, you may have to rent a private plane and-!"
"I don't give a damn about the cost! Just get me to Japan this instant!" Rohan snarled viciously.
While he wouldn't have minded--as it would've sped the process along much faster--it was great that from then on, no one tried his patience, or lack thereof, to the point of calling out Heaven's Door.
Except you, of course.
The audacity for you to leave him like that. How could the thought even cross your mind?
He sunk back into his seat, staring blankly at the screen for the first class entertainment.
If you left him with such passion, how must you have felt when he consistently left you in a near-constant offhanded way?
His hands balled up into fists on top of his lap. However many mistakes that he--god, it was difficult to accept--had made, he would reflect on later. For now, meeting up with you and changing your mind was his utmost top priority.
By the time the plane landed, he already had his phone on, listening through a multitude of voice messages.
"Rohan Kishibe, what the fuck did you do?! Koichi told me and Okuyasu everything! You asshole! Breaking a heart like that! I'm not doing a damn thing to stop whatever's going on. You made this mess. You fix it!"
That was expected. There were many of messages to that effect.
"Rohan, it's me, Koichi. I'm sorry, but I don't know how long me and Okuyasu can do this. Okuyasu's running out of tears and can't beg and sob any longer than he's already been doing. It's...it's out of my hands."
Hearing the progression of Koichi slowly being unable to get you to stay only infuriated him further.
Just a little longer and he would be in Morioh.
He would be home.
He would be with you.
It was such a horrible feeling to feel so desperate for someone, to the point that it caused a wretched ache in his chest. Reflection would come later, but all the could think of were things he should have said and done. He would tell and act on these promises.
You just needed to stay long enough for him to say something.
Finally, his house was within sight. Koichi was calling him but he didn't bother to answer as he quickly leapt out of the car. Fumbling with his keys, he swung his door open and immediately looked around.
Everything looked to be in order. None of his belongings were out of place.
But...
All of your things were gone.
He searched through every single room, practically ripping the doors off their hinges as he searched for what was most important.
You were gone.
After a thorough search and yelling out your name until his throat was sore, he was slumped on the chair by his drawing board.
His house looked exactly as it did before you came into his life.
And yet, Rohan never felt so hollow as he did now.
You ended up having the last word.