A/N: Also known as "Sweet Jesus That's A Long Rant". You'll see why.

This might have been up sooner, but I had what for me was a busy Saturday and a sore throat on Sunday which kind of killed me writing mood for that day and Monday (plus I'm never that awake after school). So apologies for the wait.

This chapter was originally going to cover more story-wise, but I didn't plan for Kagami's internal monologue to be so long. On that subject, I'd be rather interested to know how well that works – if people think it's all good, or too long and/or over the top. So reviews which comment on that would be appreciated (*hint hint*).

Oh, and apologies for misspelling Kagami and Tsukasa's surname in the last chapter. I know at least one person noticed. It's been fixed here. If anyone notices any other mistakes, please do point them out, I'm always looking to improve.

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Chapter 2: Tears

"Hiiragi-san?"

"Akiro-san!" Kagami gasped breathily into the receiver, cursing herself even as she did so. Stop sounding so damn desperate! she admonished herself sharply. She swallowed a little and forced her tone into a more moderate, easy-going mood. "Where are you? The movie started like five minutes ago! Is something wrong?"

Ok, so much for moderate and easy-going.

There came from the ear piece a peculiar sound. Was he choking or something? "Uh... Hiiragi-san, are you at the movie theatre?"

Kagami couldn't help rolling her eyes a little. Of course she was! What sort of person did he think she was? "Yes, yes. Of course I am. When are you going to be here?" She tried one last attempt at a bright tone there. Not bad, actually. Hopefully...

"How long?"

"Huh?"

"How long've you been there?"

What kind of question was that? "About half an hour," Kagami answered, unable to keep her mental confusion out her tone. Was he feeling guilty, perhaps? That was presumptuous again, but what other...

That sound once more; her thoughts derailed. It was louder this time, and more distinct, although some parts actually had an echoing quality, as if those parts of the noise were coming from several different sources. Kagami frowned. It wasn't choking... it was...

Her stomach plummeted into the abyss as the sniggering turned to unrestrained, mocking laughter.

"Sorry, Hiiragi-san," Akiro managed through his and his friends' derisive cackles. "It was a bet we had, on how early you'd turn up to a date with one of us, since you never get asked out. No hard-"

Kagami rather forcefully hit the end call button before he could finish his final, insulting suggestion that she could just forgive and forget like nothing had happened. She felt hollow inside, and at the same time rather nauseous; and absolutely, utterly humiliated. Tears pricked at her eyes, usually so proud, now betrayed and wounded. How could he have? She had been so excited, so hopeful, so blind to the possibility of any ill will – but even worse she had paraded that fact to the world. How was she going to face everyone after this? Her friends, her family... they would be sympathetic, yes, but that would not change the fact that she would look an absolute fool to them. And then there were her classmates. There wouldn't even be sympathy there, not from most – only more mockery and painful degradation. How could she face anyone after this utter travesty?

Moisture fell on her face; the weather, ever sensitive to the shame and scandal of those below it, had turned to rain. Droplets of water from the sky mixed with the tears insubordinately running down her face; even this cover was not enough to hide them. Kagami turned slowly and began the seemingly-endless walk back to the train station, though she was in no hurry to return to the loving, unbearable sympathy of her family. Again she wondered how she could possibly face them after so great a shame and dishonour. She tried to distract herself mustering anger at Akiro for deceiving and betraying her like this, but somehow her usually versatile anger refused to take hold this time. All she could feel was a dreadfully complete sense of her own weakness, her own short-sightedness, her own sheer gullibility. The reasonable part of her mind chattered away that it would have been exceptionally paranoid to predict this outcome, but like her anger this usually resilient facet of her personality could find no purchase today. Instead, she berated herself for not being prepared for this, not being ready for the possibility of disappointment; for being so myopically expectant in general. She swore a thousand times over never to be so optimistic again; the vow failed to assuage her feelings of worthlessness.

Tears continued to run down her face, but otherwise her expression remained stonily agnostic to the wreckage of her inner emotions. She refused to sob; she refused to break down into hysterics; she cursed the insolent rivulets streaming down her cheeks, self-evident despite the rain. Bad enough that everyone who knew her should bear witness to her shame; must everyone who didn't know her perceive it also? She didn't care that the train guard she passed at the station's entrance gave her a look which was compassionate, not mocking, that the occasional people she past seemed equally understanding in their glances and whispered remarks; she didn't need these things, damn it! They only made her suffering worse! She was wretched at the prospect of being forced to bear all this from her family, and later her friends: why must she be tortured with the same now? Did the gods think this would somehow prepare her better for the storm of consideration and concern that would engulf her when she finally made it back home? She felt a dreadful compulsion to spin and snap at the next person who gave her such a look of supposed empathy; but no. She had, always, to maintain her proud, strong outward façade – no weakness, be it in the form of grief or rage, could be allowed to mar it. She must stay strong... she must...

The train doors slid shut behind her. The carriage was blissfully empty; only one other person, a weary-looking man who spared her, mercifully, not so much as a glance, shared her journey, at the other end of the car. Despite her best efforts at control, the tears ran unabated, but at least the turmoil seething within her didn't yet shatter her stiffly held composure. Yet inside, seethe it did. Why was this affecting her so much? That was the question tearing through her embattled consciousness now. Alright, so it had been a cruel trick, that couldn't be denied, but these things... happened. How did it bode for her in life if she couldn't handle one prank? What happened if every disappointment turned her into this teary wreck? Panic surged; for the first time a sound, a single, solitary whimper, broke through her barrier. It was barely audible, and nothing compared to the tempest of feelings still kept in, but it was very nearly the breach which burst the floodgates. With a significant effort, she controlled herself once more. This wouldn't happen again, she told herself, trying to reassert some rationality over herself. This was just a first time. Just a shock which she'd never experienced before. She would be stronger next time. Next time...

She almost let out another whimper. Next time? How, asked that other, hysterical part of her mind, could there possibly be a next time after this? How could she open herself up to all this again? She would break, surely! Her friends and family would help her, the rational half replied... oh Kami, her family! They would probably break her first! She wasn't meant to be sympathised over; it would kill her. And she would have to face all that the moment she walked back in through the door! Oh Kami, she wouldn't be able to bear it, she wouldn't be able to-!

An electronic trill broke through and rescued her from the brink of hysteria. She blinked, swatting away those impertinent tears with her eyelashes, and looked up. Then frowned. The train was stopping... but the scenery was unfamiliar. Or rather it was... but not what she was expecting to see. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry as realisation hit her. This was near where Konata lived. She'd caught the wrong train, fool that she was! Her home was the other way! She wanted to be going in the other direction!

Or do I?

Kagami stared up at the digital strip announcing the current station with the same frown as before, but inside something resembling a reasoned line of thought was finally emerging successfully from the maelstrom of emotions. Did she really want to go back home? Hadn't she just been dreading what awaited her there? She still didn't think she'd be able to take all that suffocating contrition... by contrast, Konata was perhaps the only one of her friends who wouldn't smother her with pity; at times, the otaku seemed even callous to other people's feelings, although Miyuki, a saint as ever, would always argue that it was just a way of trying to cheer people up by downplaying their troubles or something like that. Most of the time, Kagami would have killed just to get some sort of serious reaction from Konata... but right now, that was the last thing she needed. Instead, the prospect of having her calamity ignored, even in all likelihood made the subject of some friendly teasing, seemed oddly appealing.

The train slid to a stop. The doors opened. It was now or never. Kagami could stay here and wait for the train to go back around and take her home... or she could get off here and take her chances with Konata. If she was responsible as usual, she should do the former. That was, after all, what a good girl would do – go straight home to her parents and seek comfort in the arms of mummy and daddy. That was safe. That was conventional. That was Kagami.

The train doors slid shut. The train pulled away, heading for the next station, after however many of which it would turn around and head back the way it had come, back in the direction of the Hiiragi household.

But Kagami was not on it. Good girls needed sympathy, and today Kagami wanted none. She would take her chances with the otaku instead. The train rolled on into the distance, but Hiiragi Kagami stepped off the platform and began making her way to the Izumi home.

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A/N: Alright, so maybe not the longest monologue ever. But still a good page or more in MS Word on Calibri size 11. Anyways, like I say, reviews on that in particular would be appreciated.

I'd also like to know what you think of the end. It annoyed me a bit as I was writing it, and didn't flow as well as the rest of the chapter. But I'm reasonably pleased with the end result, so I'd like to know if you feel the same.

Final question: do you think I should write longer chapters? If so, how much longer, roughly?

Anyway, R&R! Next chapter will be arriving any time between the weekend and this time next week, probably. Going to have to try and write Konata realistically – gulp! Some good reviews might persuade me to write faster though. ;)