For the Brokenhearted: A Character Short

Office: TL Maxwell

Headquarters – Tokyo Branch
Tokyo, Japan
8:34 PM
2012

“You should really get home and take a long sleep, A.”

Touta’s voice seemed far away to the woman; she sat there on her office chair, typing idly on her laptop while a steaming cup of coffee rested right next to her. The lady ignored Touta’s suggestion and merely kept her eyes on the screen.

His co-workers battled emotional struggles in different ways. He and Peters would go to the gym, engage in sparring when the American needed to let off steam. Olsen, although he worked with Squad J, occasionally joined him for afternoons spent on tea and needed venting. Both men would usually feel better after (despite Touta being covered in bruises or sick of chamomile and such).

A, on the other hand, plagued herself with work. She liked to busy herself with reports, filing and research day and night, whenever she felt troubled in whatever way she could feel. Touta had initially ignored that, not wanting to break the woman out of her calm reverie – after all, people dealt with stress in different ways.

However, three out of seven days had passed and Touta was starting to worry about her.

A usually came in around ten and left six in the evening, looking polished and mild-mannered, silent until she had her coffee. After that, she would be a little burst of working energy, accomplishing as much as she could in a single day. Her lunch breaks would occasionally be spent alone or with the other members of Squad A, or with Olsen if he too was free.

This time was different. She would come in earlier – eight in the morning – and would leave around ten. The woman’s look was less put together than usual, her hair thrown into a wild bun than tied into a high ponytail. And instead of radiating a strong, commanding aura, she lacked it and merely went straight to her office, silently working on her reports and such.

Often times he would see her move out, then in, repeating a few times a day. Each time she came back into the building, she would have a new paper cup fresh full of coffee. By the end of the day, she would lightly smell of caffeine; except her energy would still be at a low – perhaps even less.

That was when he deduced that something was wrong.

“Come on, A. Did you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” she replied dully, pausing momentarily to rub at her eyes. Her sunglasses obscured her vision and Touta wondered if she was sensitive to sunlight on that day. He frowned.

“Are you hung over?”

She cringed at the sharpness in his voice. “God, I’m not. It’s just that my eyes are watery and I’d rather not let anyone see,” she muttered. At his silence, she continued. “Allergies. I need to get cleaning around the house again before it gets worse.”

“Vacuuming does wonders,” Touta wisecracked. She rolled her eyes.

“I’ve heard.  Sorry T,” A blinked slowly and closed her eyes for a few moments, “but I really have to finish this report soon. Police needs it soon and I want to send a flawless copy.”

He decided on either forcing her to go home or to let her work.

He decided on the latter.

“Alright, A. Just get some rest soon, alright?” the girl nodded idly and Touta got up, leaving the room and closing the door. As it gave a soft click, A removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes, blinking and looking away from the screen.

As the clock struck nine, Touta resolved to be the one who would take her home. After much persuasion, she sat quietly in his car, the Japanese at the wheel. He had turned on the radio in hopes of filling up the perturbing silence; but even with the noise he (and perhaps she) had felt the silence pulsing throughout.

It was when he made a left turn that he had cleared his throat. “Take a day off, A. It’s Friday tomorrow. Spend the day shopping or doing some food-tripping around the metro,” he offered kindly. She deserved the break. But A – with her sunglasses still on – shook her head in disdain.

“Thank you, Touta, but I really can’t. You know how work goes,” she replied. “If I miss a single day, something might happen. Might even be called if it’s that bad,” the woman gave a weary smile. “So I might as well come to work.”

“Things haven’t been that bad,” he tried. A narrowed her gaze at him.

“…why do you want me to rest so much?”

Touta fell silent. A merely waited, a few minutes passing before she sighed and muttered something under her breath. The other sneaked a glance at her in confusion , looking back at the road as she took her sunglasses off.

The car stopped at a stoplight which had blinked red and he looked at her again. He noticed that her eyes were slightly swollen. “A, were you crying a while ago–?”

“No!” she snapped. Exhaling, A managed to collect herself before talking yet again. “No. I wasn’t crying a while ago. I was crying for the entirety of last night.”

 “…why were you crying?”

 She hesitated. “I was thinking. I got overwhelmed. I started crying. Look,” the half-German had managed, “How about I talk and you just…listen? Then you talk and I listen?”

He managed a small smile at that. “Go ahead.”

A wasted no time in talking. “You find someone in the most unconventional way and then end up liking them. In that way. Eventually, you end up falling in love with them.” She glanced down at her hands and went on, “Months pass and then he confesses to you that he’s in love with you. So something beautiful starts. It’s like euphoria. You wake up each day knowing that you’re loved, you see him and when he smiles at the sight of you, you’re just struck with the thought, ‘how did I get this lucky’?”

He listened quietly, feeling a slight pang of apprehension at what she was going to say next.

“It’s a beautiful kind of thing. All those dates, the promises, the gifts…he treats you like you’re everything and finally, you feel treasured and loved.”

Touta looked at her. She was smiling.

Tears trickled from her eyes to her cheeks.

“And then one day, he leaves.”

Cold shot up his spine. “…leaves?”

“You wake up and there’s an empty space on the other side of the bed, so you think that he’s making breakfast. So you get up. You look for him in the kitchen, but he isn’t there. So you instead think that he went to work early.” A’s smile turned bitter, “And then he doesn’t come home that night and you just know.”

 He was shell-shocked.

It took both of them a long time until either of them spoke. It was only when he had parked by her house that he had managed to say something.

“He left.” She nodded. The man felt a sudden rush of anger. “Matt left you.” A was about to speak when Touta pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing a number. “Peters,” he greeted cheerfully. A watched blankly. “Clear your schedule for tomorrow. Don’t come to work.” From the other end, A could hear Peters going wait why the fuck what’s happening but Touta shushed him. “Squad A field day. And by field day, I mean day off. I’ll tell more later.”

And he ended the call.

“If you’re going to go through this,” he said simply, “Then we’re going to go through it with you. Not just as a team – but as your friends.”

She attempted to smile. “What exactly are you planning? ‘A Celebration for the Brokenhearted’?”

Touta paused to think.

“Yes,” he finally said. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”