Clarity In-between

Author: foxmagic

Rating: PG-13/T

Italics: thoughts and emphasis

Disclaimer: I don't own.

Pairings: Ayumu/Hiyono all the way!

Warnings: Alluding to lemon-ness, but without the sour details…XD. This is more about the 'caught' action of it all, but I did put reference in here. Nothing detailed, as I said before, hence the T rating.

(A/N) Ah…why did I write this? I think I was sorely disappointed in the lack of Ayumu/Hiyono out there! Maybe this wasn't the way to approach it, though…Oh well! I tried to steer clear of anything hopelessly angsty, yet maintaining seriousness, and adding humor, and…and…well…

;-

He couldn't quite remember when it had first begun, or even why he allowed it to continue on in the first place.

All Ayumu knew now was that he was quite used to it.

It was habit. She would knock on the door around dinner time, and he would let her in while complaining about her manners or lack thereof. And the girl would smile, because she knew he hated it when Madoka worked late nights. It was no fun eating dinner all by your lonesome, after all. Or so Hiyono said. And it was a stranger thing than that, because Ayumu could have sworn that he had never invited her over in the first place.

Later he would insist on walking her home, and she would equally insist on returning alone. He always won out in the end. It was to be assumed that the argument was only ritual, and Hiyono's stubbornness was code for 'walk me home anyway, you jerk.' But he never thought too hard on these things, because Ayumu had decided long ago that he would never be able to figure that girl out. And maybe that was for the best.

It was indeed ritual –habit. It was like that from the very first time they met. They both understood, and neither would dare do anything to jeopardize it. Always, Madoka would return to a sleeping house. Always, Hiyono would subject herself to sneaking in the window of her room late at night. And always, Ayumu would turn to his bed after the short trek home.

He couldn't quite remember. But it was inevitable that things would change. He guessed that she had known it as well.

One night, Hiyono didn't return home.

It was a bit hazy. Ayumu didn't know who kissed the other first, but whoever it was, the other went along with it willingly. And the entire situation only went further downhill from there. Clothes were shed quickly, one touch more demanding than the other. That was how it progressed; it escalated. Where one was rough, the other soothed. The fine line between friendship and something more had been crossed at long last. And there was no going back.

She knew this. So did he. There were no regrets, only the whisper of what would have been and what could be in the future.

That night, Hiyono fell asleep with Ayumu for the first time.

;-

He had assured her that his sister would not be home until late morning. By then they would be up, eating breakfast, acting in perturbed normalcy. She took his word for it, giving in to the dreams that rode on the edges of her mind.

Neither of them heard the first alarm –a dangling of keys, poised before the door, turning; and then the undeniable 'click' of the door's knob as it was unlocked. It was the slam -a bang- which resounded throughout the apartment loudest. Ayumu's eyes flew open.

No, that wasn't right. He could have sworn she said late as in late morning. And for all his calculating, his theories, and haughty belief, this was not the time he wished to be proven wrong. Home…His mind processed the information slower than usual. She's home…

In the dining room, Madoka gave an exasperated sigh.

"Narumi-san…?" The fragile body beside him moved, whispering into his hair. "Narumi-san, what's wr-"

He held up a hand, inclining an ear towards the door. She followed suit.

"That brat, leaving his clothes around…"

It was her turn to pale, face possessing something akin to utter horror. "Madoka oneesan…" She said, wide-eyed.

There was more rustling as the woman attempted to find the hall light, tripping over what sounded like Ayumu's shoes. She cursed. Hiyono nearly squeaked in surprise.

"I thought you said she would be home in the morning!" She seethed, and Ayumu had to cover her mouth to keep the pitch down.

"I was wrong. Apparently."

"Narumi-san!"

They grew silent, waiting for Madoka to finish up in the house and make her way to bed. When the door to her room was shut, the pair breathed a sigh of audible relief. Ayumu didn't mind so much the idea of his sister knowing about their tryst, as he despised the thought of an impending lecture that would soon follow said knowledge. No, he would certainly rather die. Painfully.

Hiyono set to gathering her things, fumbling around in the dark until Ayumu so graciously turned the light on. "I'll walk you home." He said. And this time, she didn't refuse. There was a rush in her step, worrisome and clouded by thoughts that should never have seeped through in the first place; she paused.

"My skirt…it isn't here."

"What?"

"I think it's in the living room."

He rubbed his head, wondering how and why these situations always seemed to favor him above all others. "And why is your skirt in the living room?"

"I don't know! I wasn't the one who-"

Once again, he had to remind her who lay in the very next room, sleeping soundly, and how he preferred it to stay that way. So Hiyono was ushered out his door, her shirt buttoned in all the wrong places, and her own shoes nowhere to be found. And that's when it happened.

In an attempt to put on her socks while walking, the girl found herself tripping up, the material of her school shirt catching in excess at the edge of her shoulder. She reached out to grab the wall, placing her feet on solid ground, only to find that Ayumu's god damn shoes were there. Hiyono let out a pitiful squeal as she tumbled to the floor. Ayumu cringed. To his credit, he resisted the strong urge to run over and strangle her. They waited, silent, hearing no movement in his sister's room. He shrugged. Maybe she hadn't noticed…

And then came the creaking of floorboard –walking. There was the turning of a door knob, and the rush of fabric as the door slid open…

Hiyono lay still, wanting nothing more than to crawl back to the depths of her bed. But there was no time. Madoka stood before them now, staring with obvious shock, opening her mouth to speak, but finding no words adequate enough.

"A-Ay-" She sputtered. "AYUMU!"

Ah yes, there it was.

"Madoka oneesan, if I could only expl-"

"Oh, you'll be explaining alright." She grabbed hold of the girl's collar, pulling her up, then reached out and snatched Ayumu too. "Into the living room! Now! And for god's sake, get some clothes on!"

;-

He had no idea his sister could talk that much. For the most part he was tuned out, hearing only enough to comply with a 'yeah' or an 'uhuh' every now and then. His partner in crime sat politely, listening to the lecture with a bit too much awareness, making him more nervous than the shouting had.

"…and furthermore, I had no idea you two even knew about such things! And leaving your- on the-" Madoka broke down at that point. She was a detective, she solved crimes, she dealt with law-breakers on a daily basis, even murderers, but this…this, she had no clue how to deal with. They were children for god's sake. Well, more like teenagers than children, but- "…if Kiyotaka was here, he would know what to say."

"Actually, he'd probably just-"

"Shut it, Ayumu!"

"Excuse me…" Hiyono chimed in. "Can I say something?"

"NO!" They shouted, almost too desperately.

"Mou! Why not!"

"Because I'm talking right now, and you two are going to be-"

"-making breakfast."

"Yes! What- no!" Madoka gripped the seat cushion harshly. "It's only four, Ayumu! Now sit down!"

He complied, albeit a bit reluctantly, and they remained still.

She could tell them all sorts of things. She could say that they had done something horribly wrong, that they would regret it later, that things like this, spur of the moment and on such whim, only led to heartache and pain –to what shewas. And then Madoka straightened, her eyes losing their focus and concentration. To what she was. Now, so irrevocably stained by a man who might never return, who she refused to give up on because of that ridiculous word that had once grown in her -in much the same manner as this.

They waited, watching her with patience and curiosity, waiting…

"I…" She began, voice losing itself in the delirium of the moment. There was an instant -clarity- which rode on the recesses of her mind. It was alright she decided, and sighed, pulling away from the drear, thoughtless conversation that loomed overhead. It was fine. A little creepy, that girl, but…fine nonetheless. "I…" She caught again.

They waited.

"I think breakfast sounds great."

;-

FIN

;-

(A/N) I…really just don't know. That had no point (runs in circles).

Review!

foxmagic