Hi everyone! This is my second fic. I'm actually in the middle of writing my first one (a Killugon HunterxHunter story), but I fell in love with Sukitte ii na yo after reading the manga and watching the anime and felt the urge to write something in tribute of it. I was planning on writing a one-shot but got carried away in the process. I think there might be enough for one or two more chapters, so please read/review/favorite if you want to see more! Thank you!

"Ne, Tachibana, I bet you've never had a boyfriend before."

"Ayami! I can't believe you said that to her face!"

"What? It's not like she's said more than ten words here since she transferred. And look at her!"

After two months of hearing the same thing, Tachibana Mei barely flinched at the insult, opting instead to keep walking.

Except her name was not Tachibana Mei—it was Mari Maruyama or, as her fans affectionately called her, Marumi. Up until last year, Mari was one of the most sought-after young models in America, featured in all of the top fashion magazines, runway shows, and even a few television features. But everything changed when her father died. Her mother tried to mask the seriousness of her father's illness leading up to his death because they both wanted Mari to take opportunities to advance her career that likely wouldn't come a second time. And Mari took those opportunities and succeeded, but only at the cost of not realizing that her father's cancer was serious before it was too late.

After the funeral, Mari cancelled all of her upcoming shows and shoots and locked herself in her room, only opening the door to eat a little bit of the food her mother would try to get her to eat and then pushing the leftovers outside. She would flip through old magazines of herself, looking so young and happy, and she hated herself for having become so obsessed with makeup, hair products, and clothing to the point that she couldn't even see her own father withering away before her eyes. Her mother, naturally, was very concerned for Mari's health, and so finally after three weeks had passed she waited for Mari to open the door to push her half-eaten food outside and jammed her foot in the door.

"Mari," her mother said, half stern and half concerned. "I'm worried about you honey. You aren't eating or sleeping well, and you haven't spoken to anyone in weeks. I understand if you aren't ready to work again, but you do need to leave your room and start living again. Your father wouldn't have wanted this for you, and you know it, too."

Mari was quiet on the other side of the door.

Her mother sighed. "I have an idea. How about you go to Japan and finish up your high school experience? Your father was always nagging you about the importance of education, and that way you can also return to where your father grew up."

Mari's mother had met Mari's father when he studied abroad in America at her university, so Mari was half-Japanese, half-American.

"I think your father would have liked that."

Mari cleared her throat—she hadn't spoken at all for the past three weeks.

"Ok," she said softly, surprising even her mother.

And that was that. A few days later, Mari was packed and ready to go.

Her mother hovered over Mari's frail body at the airport landing. Despite having been missing for the past three weeks, Mari's influence was still great enough to warrant a private jet in her name. It was a breeze getting Mari into any high school of her choice, but Mari's mother figured that Mari would want to go to her father's alma mater, Toumei High School so she worked out a contract with the president that Mari would attend that high school as long as the high school kept her identity a secret from the media. She looked sadly at her daughter's figure, hair blustered and without a trace of makeup on her gaunt face. No one would recognize her, at this rate anyway.

"You're sure I can't convince you to let me go with you?" she tried one last time with Mari.

Mari shook her head. "Maybe you can come visit after the first semester; but, for now, I just need some time to myself. I promise I'll be okay, mom."

Her mom took Mari's hand, smiling worriedly. "I know, honey. And you know your grandma on your father's side still lives in the area and will be there at the airport to meet you and drive you in town."

Mari nodded. Suddenly, she moved forward, hugging her mother as tightly as she could, which wasn't that strong at all.

"Thank you, mom," Mari said quietly, a few tears rolling down her cheek. She brushed away the tears before her mom could see them, but she still heard Mari's voice break.

Her mother smiled in earnest now.

"I can't wait to see you in the future, honey," she said, patting Mari's head. "As your father always said, ganbatte!" (Good luck!)

Her smiled faded as the jet rose, taking her daughter away.

"Ganbatte…." she said to herself.

Tears started to spring to Mari's eyes as she remembered that sad farewell with her mom. But again, she furiously wiped them away. She was looking down when someone large bumped into her, knocking the air straight out of her and flinging her to the ground. She winced, feeling the bruise already start to form. She still hadn't been eating or sleeping well, considering the treatment she'd gotten upon arrival to Toumei High School, so she bruised easily.

She felt the tears start to well back up in her eyes, but Mari was resolved to look down harshly to hide those tears from Nakanishi-kun, one of the many students here who took pleasure in making fun of her.

"Sorry," Nakanishi said, not sounding sorry at all. "I didn't notice you."

Mari clenched her fists, exuding the same dark and gloomy aura that she had perfected over the past two months.

"Come on," Nakanishi-kun said, shoving her a little more. "I said it wasn't on purpose. Right? I apologized, didn't I?"

He shoved her a little more with every question.

Right when she felt the tears about to drip down, Mari whipped around silently and walked away.

"And she walks as nothing happened," Nakanishi-kun said, gleefully. "Everything she does is fun to watch. Her name is Tachibana and she's in my class, but she's freakishly gloomy and she doesn't speak. Apparently no one's even heard her voice."

That did it. Even though she was still in the depths of her grief, even though she had become considerably weaker as a result of lack of eating and sleeping, Mari had had enough of joking at her expense for the day. Before Nakanishi-kun knew what was coming, Mari whipped around, tears floating in mid-air…and roundhouse kicked Kurosawa Yamato-kun in the face. She was so furious that she couldn't even be bothered that she had kicked the wrong person.

"Leave me alone!" she said, wiping away angry tears that streamed down her face. "Why can't you just leave me alone?!"

She stormed out of the hallway and punched open the school doors past the shocked faces and whispers of onlookers. Not only would her knees be bruised from the initial fall, she thought to herself, still wiping away tears, but now her knuckles would be bruised from that punch. And, of course, everyone would be talking about this, now. At least the administration wouldn't care that she skipped her last period… I guess fame can give you something, huh? Mari thought to herself bitterly. She passed the school gate entrance and dropped into a hunch on the floor, clutching herself and allowing herself to cry in earnest finally.

When she had arrived in Japan, she didn't know exactly what she was expecting to accomplish. She met her grandmother, who helped her find a luxury apartment right outside of Ginza next to Hibiya Park. The nature there soothed her nerves and was worth the forty-minute train ride to her high school. Although she had once been an extroverted, bright, and funny young celebrity, these days Mari couldn't have been farther from that image. Frail, cold, gloomy, and without a care in the world for her appearance, it was all Mari could do to arrive to school in her oversized, frumpy uniform. At the time, she still wasn't ready to go back to her fun, old self, and so she established herself early on as distant and removed from her classmates.

It's okay, Mari thought to herself, wiping away the last remains of her tears. I don't need friends, anyway. I'm just here to see where dad grew up…

Someone coughing pointedly interrupted her reverie. Mari gasped quietly and looked up to see Kurosawa-kun himself standing above her, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Um, are you okay? I wanted to find you to apologize about earlier…" he paused, noticing her red face. "Are you crying?"

"N-no," Mari stuttered, wiping her face one last time and struggling to stand up. She lost her balance and began falling forward, but Kurosawa-kun caught her by the hand. She winced as he'd grabbed exactly where her bruise was forming.

Kurosawa-kun's eyes trailed where Mari's were and saw the bruise. "Are you okay?!" he said, now alarmed. "Is this from earlier?"

"I'm fine," Mari said brusquely, extracting her hand from Kurosawa-kun's grasp and fixing her backpack.

She started walking toward the train station, blatantly ignoring Kurosawa-kun's trailing presence.

"It's just—" Kurosawa-kun started. "I did want to apologize about what Nakanishi said."

Mari hesitated in her steps.

"It was unacceptable and uncalled for. You did nothing to make him say such mean things."

She stopped and looked at him. "I'm sorry," she said gruffly, extending her other, non-injured hand with a roll of bandaids.

Kurosawa-kun looked at her extended hand, confused.

"For hitting you," she explained. "It was an accident. I was aiming for Nakanishi-kun and didn't realize you were there."

Kurosawa-kun looked at the bandaids, then looked at Mari, and then burst out laughing.

"What?!" Mari said, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.

"You're really interesting, Tachibana-san," Kurosawa-kun said, grinning. "I'd like to get to know you."

Over the next month, one way or another, Mari and Kurosawa did get to know each other. Although it took a lot of prodding on the part of Kurosawa, Mari slowly but surely began opening up again. She met and befriended Aiko and Asami, got on better terms with Nakanishi and Aiko's boyfriend Masashi, and started eating better. Eating better allowed her to start working out, little by little, at the exercise room downstairs at her apartment, and so she started sleeping better, too. Even though her clothing was still frumpy and she didn't do anything to help her appearance, Mari's natural beauty began to show through once more, eliciting the talk and notice of boys and girls alike. But, still, Mari kept her distance, not allowing anyone to visit her apartment or learn much about her life outside of school.

Still, though, Mari reasoned with herself, sitting among her laughing friends during their lunch break with Kurosawa's hand right next to hers. I'm getting there.

"Ne, everyone," Asami said, prodding Mari from her thoughts. "What do you think about going to the beach for summer break? We could stay for the weekend!"

Nakanishi cheered immediately at the thought of spending more time with Asami, and Aiko and Masashi gave their good-natured consent, but Mari had frozen on the bench there, her smile fading fast.

"Mei?" Kurosawa said, now touching her hand.

She drew back involuntarily, and Kurosawa frowned. He placed his hand over hers.

"You're trembling, Mei," Kurosawa said, now concerned. "What's wrong?"

Asami and the rest of their friends had yet to notice Mari's concern, still talking excitedly about their plans for the beach. Mari felt cornered. She wasn't sure if she wanted to tell Kurosawa about her reluctance to visit a beach (since it was her father's favorite place to go), but she knew it wasn't a conversation she wanted to have here, in front of everyone else and at school with other strangers walking around. Kurosawa seemed to realize this immediately as the thought crossed Mari's mind, and so he threw an arm over Mari's shoulders, effectively masking her from the rest of the group and made up an excuse that they needed to go get some materials for their next class. As they were walking away, Mari clutched Kurosawa's shirt, silently thanking him for the diversion. He smiled down at the top of her head, tightening his grip on her. They swung around the building at the last second and took a shortcut over to the alleyway where the stray kitten nested in its box. Mari broke from Kurosawa's arm and rushed over to the cat, hunched over and unsure how to explain herself. Kurosawa paused, before slowly crouching next to her. He tickled the underside of the kitten's neck.

"I think he's really starting to like me," Kurosawa started, breaking the silence.

Mari nodded in assent, reaching her hand forward to pet the kitten as well. Their fingers touched, and Kurosawa reached out to hold her hand. He pulled Mari close to him, again.

"Mei," Kurosawa murmured.

Mari bit her lip, wishing that she could just tell him the truth so that he could call her by her true name.

"What's wrong?"

She thought carefully about her words. Part of the reason Mari didn't talk much while at school was because she was afraid to misuse her Japanese and be found out, but after having spent more time with Kurosawa and his friends she'd become more confident in her Japanese.

"I—" Mari started. Should I tell him everything? Mari thought to herself. Am I ready?

She shook her head. Only the essentials, for now.

"I'm afraid to go to the beach," she started, looking down face pressed in Kurosawa's shirt.

"Why?"

"The beach was my father's favorite place to go," she explained.

Kurosawa paused. "Was?" he repeated.

Mari nodded into his shirt. "He died," she said, voice breaking. "He died half a year ago from cancer." She felt tears unwillingly wetting Kurosawa's shirt.

Kurosawa's grip tightened on her. He pulled her from a crouch into his lap. She blushed but was too overwhelmed to protest.

"Mei," Kurosawa started, at a loss with this news she had given him.

"Mari," she said suddenly. "Can you…can you call me Mari?"

Kurosawa tilted his head in confusion.

Mari's thoughts started racing. She looked up and relaxed the tiniest bit when it became clear that Kurosawa hadn't made any connection.

"It's just," she stuttered, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. "Everyone close to me calls me Mari instead of Mei. It's an old family joke, and I feel like you should be able to call me that…Yamato."

Yamato's eyes widened—that was the first time Mari had called him by his first name.

"Mari," he tested the name out, and Mari closed her eyes in happiness as she heard him say her real name for the first time.

Yamato cupped her face gently, and she looked up with watery eyes at his serious face.

"Mari," he said again, kissing her gently. "Mari."

"I love you," he said simply and kissed her again before Mari had a chance to say anything back. "I know it will take you a while to say those words back to me, but thank you for sharing something of your life with me today. I'm so very happy."

And he did look so happy, a light twinge of pink on his cheeks and tears brimming at the corner of his eyes. Mari's eyes widened—she'd never seen Yamato cry before.

She reached up and wiped away the tears before they could fall.

"Please don't tell anyone about that, though," Mari said quietly, voice muffled because she had nuzzled her head back into his shirt. "I'm not ready for anyone else to know about my father or 'Mari.'"

Yamato hugged her tightly again. "Of course, Mari."

There was only a month left until summer break, and everything seemed to be going well for Mari. She had gained back all of her weight plus a few pounds more and for the first time since her father's death, Mari could say that she was almost happy. That is, until she came.

"Kitagawa Megumi to attend Toumei High School" Asami slapped the magazine headline on Mari's desk and squealed. "Everyone, everyone, look! The Megu-tan is going to be at our high school!"

"Who?" Yamato asked, still reading his book leisurely.

"Megu-tan," Asami said, exasperated. "Haven't you read a magazine in the last, like, six months? Megu-tan is the new hot, young fashion model in Japan! She's even done shoots in America!"

While Asami scolded Yamato, Mari had turned as pale as a ghost. With shaking hands, she pulled the magazine closer to her. Undoubtedly, it was her. Megumi Kitagawa: the girl with whom Mari was supposed to do a shoot as her debut feature in America…until she had cancelled all of her upcoming plans for her father's funeral. This girl…Mari thought to herself. Is bound to recognize me. Panicked, Mari silently breathed in very deeply to get a semblance of control over herself.

"Um," she said suddenly, cutting off Asami. "I just remembered that my grandmother wanted me to swing by her house today, so I'm going to leave now." Her hair fell forward, hiding her expression as she stood up. "Yamato, sorry, we can walk to the train station tomorrow together!"

Right as Mari was gathering her things, she heard girls' squeals ringing down the hallway. Mari looked down immediately. Heels clacked on the linoleum and stopped at their classroom. The door rolled open, and a girl with big, curly hair and bright eyes stepped inside, a trail of girls in her wake.

"I guess this is my new class!" the girl who was clearly Megu-tan exclaimed, hands on her hips.

Asami squeaked, dropping her books and practically flung herself toward Megu-tan, ushering her toward Mari and the rest of their friends. Shaking, Mari continued to stare at the floor as though her life depended on it, and slowly edged her way around Megu-tan head down while backing slowly toward the door.

Yamato watched Mari's behavior the entire time, confused at her sudden jerky movements but was caught off guard by the sudden entrance of Megu-tan and the screaming girls and Asami. Megu-tan walked up to Yamato, eyes sparkling and extended her hand.

"I'd like to get to know you better, Mr…." Megu-tan prompted for his name, her voice especially sultry.

Yamato froze, looking at her extended hand and peering around to see Mari's face. Her face was white with fear and she looked like she was about to pass out. Swaying, Mari pushed her way through the girls still trying to push their way into the classroom and went running as fast as she could.

"Um," Yamato said, thoughts racing. He pushed past Megu-tan's hand, "Excuse me."

The girls gasped as Yamato politely ushered his way through the crowd to follow after Mari.

"Mei! Mei!" They could all hear Yamato yelling Mari's faux-name down the hallway.

Megu-tan was silent for a moment, and the girls all hushed to see her response. After a brief pause, she looked up and smiled.

"That must have been his girlfriend, huh?" Megu-tan said to the room.

All at once, the girls began talking.

"Yes, that was Tachibana Mei, but you're so much better than her!"

"Yeah, you could steal Kurosawa-kun from her in a heartbeat!"

"We don't even know why he likes her…."

"Um!" Asami interjected into the group of girls hesitantly. "Mei is my friend, and I don't appreciate you all talking about her like that!"

The girls all began muttering darkly, but Megu-tan just smiled brighter. She patted Asami on the head and turned to the girls. "Now, girls, she's right. That's no way to talk about one of our classmates! I'm sure we'll all come to be good friends, ne?"

The girls cheered, and Megu-tan looked down, her smile darkened with purpose. All except one of you, she thought, picturing the shadowy figure of this Mei who seemed to have captured that beautiful boy's heart.

Mari's exercises had started to pay off, so Yamato barely saw her retreating frame slip out the school gate entrance right when he'd just left the school's main doors. He only managed to catch her getting onto the train right before the doors closed.

"Mari!" Yamato huffed, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. "Why…did you run like that?"

"Um," Mari said, huffing equally. "I just…realized I was going to miss this train to visit my grandmother if I didn't hurry."

Yamato let out one last big breath of air and then sat next to Mari on the train. "You looked like you'd just seen a ghost," he countered, putting a hand over hers.

She flinched, and he rose his eyebrows. "Mari….?"

"I told you not to call me that in public!" she said, raising her voice just enough to have other train users stare at her. She turned red and put her face in his shirt. "Sorry…"

Yamato relaxed into her and put his arms around her. "What's wrong, Mari?" he whispered so that only she could hear him.

Mari paused, hands pressed against Yamato's hard, warm chest. Should I tell him now? But it's been so long since we started dating… What if he gets angry with me for keeping this secret? She fidgeted. But how else can I explain why I don't want to see Megu-tan?

"I can't talk about it," she said finally. "Not yet…I—" she stuttered into his chest. "I want to tell you everything, but I'm not ready yet. Just like how I don't know how to tell you that I lov—" she cut off, dark red in the face and suddenly looked up at Yamato.

His eyes were wide with shock, having realized what Mari was just about to say, to confess her feelings. A million thoughts raced through Yamato's head as he tried to grasp the seriousness in Mari's voice when she told him that there's more that she's hiding from him than he thought and that she does actually truly have feelings for him…something he'd been worried about for a while. For now, he thought to himself, all he could do was love her as much as he could and let her take things as slow as she needed. He smiled and nuzzled his forehead against hers.

"Okay, Mari," he whispered.

Mari looked up at him with wide eyes, still very red in the face, shocked that Yamato could be so kind and considerate. Her eyes widened even further when she realized the provocative position they were in on the train in public in front of all of these strangers. She pushed him away almost violently, babbling inconsistently. Yamato laughed his deep, musical laugh, and Mari couldn't help but smile.

"Um," Yamato said, looking up at the stops. "Exactly how far are you going until you get off the train?"

They had never actually taken the train before, because Mari always having been adamant to part their separate ways especially since Yamato lived on the southern side of town while she lived on the east side. Mari jolted when she realized that she had automatically taken the train to her home instead of to her grandmother's.

"Oh no!" Mari shouted, standing up quickly. "I accidentally took the train to home instead of my grandmother's!" She slumped into her seat, pulling out her phone. "She's going to be so sad to have missed me. I'll message her, now."

"I don't think I've ever seen you use your phone before, Mari," Yamato observed, watching Mari type with impressive speed. "And that's a brand new phone, too."

Mari blushed. "Well, I don't like to use phones if I don't have to as you know, and I just recently got a new phone because I didn't like my old one."

Because too many agencies had that number and wouldn't leave me alone, Mari thought to herself.

"Where exactly are we getting off?" Yamato asked lightly.

It was at that moment that Mari realized that Yamato was on the train with her en route to her apartment in Ginza, one of the most expensive neighborhoods in Tokyo, and she had never invited anyone to her apartment before. On top of that, it would become obvious that she was living alone at this apartment….there were so many things that Yamato could learn about her by coming and…" She turned red. Mari had had her fair share of kisses and more during her career, but she was still a virgin, and as her feelings for Yamato grew she became more aware of the seriousness of their relationship and where it could go.

"U-um," Mari stuttered. "We can get off here!"

"The Ginza stop?" Yamato asked, puzzled.

"I live right next to the park," Mari said quietly.

Yamato said nothing, seeing how uncomfortable Mari was at the prospect of having someone over to her apartment. Asami and the rest of their friends had bugged Mari relentlessly to let them even know where she lived, but she always managed to find a way to get out of the subject. Yamato felt jittery realizing that he would be the first of everyone to see her place, and alone at that. They'd been together for a month and he didn't even know where she lived, but now that would all be fixed. But wow, Yamato thought to himself. This is a nice area to be living, pretty much as nice as the area in where I live…And Mari has a brand new phone. I don't even know if those have gone on sale yet to the public…

Mari was quiet all during Yamato's musings as she guided him to the glass, very minimalistic and edgy apartment that hovered on the edge of Hibiya Park. In the elevator, Mari silently pressed the button and swiped her key card for the top floor, all while not looking at Yamato's expression at all. He observed this in silence. The elevator door opened to a small greeting antechamber, and Yamato calmly took off his shoes to show that he wasn't planning on leaving any time soon. Suddenly, Mari grabbed his sleeve. Still looking down, she whispered, "Can you just wait here for a minute? I didn't think that anyone would be here, so I just want to clean up quickly."

The apartment looked spotless from what he could see, which was an expansive kitchen on the right and a dining room on the left, but he could tell that Mari was nervous so he smiled and assented, pulling out a chair in the closed off dining room area. Mari kicked her shoes off in haste and scrambled into the apartment. The apartment was, of course, clean, but she just wanted to do one last check to make sure there wasn't anything in her apartment that would give away her past life as an American or as a model. She ran upstairs quickly and did a scan on her bedroom before blushing realizing that she had just made an assumption that they would even find themselves up there in the first place. Satisfied with her search, Mari scampered down the stairs to where Yamato was still sitting in the dining room.

"Okay," she huffed. "Everything is good now. Would you like a tour of the apartment?"

She fidgeted, feeling somewhat formal. Yamato smiled and nodded.

The dining room in which he had been sitting was extremely minimalistic, the wooden table made of fine cedar and a matching cedar cabinet that displayed crystal clear dishware. The wall furthest to the back was made of a foggy glass, which seemed like it could be pushed into the wall to open up the dining room to the area beyond. To the right of the dining room and lobby area was the kitchen, which had the same cedar wood for cabinets, the sink and surfaces made of the same clear glass. The refrigerator exterior was made of the same cedar wood to streamline the aesthetic of the kitchen; but, as Mari opened the refrigerator to show him that he was welcome to anything there, Yamato saw that the inside was structured with the same glass material, filled sparsely with plain fruits, yogurts, healthy drinks, and expensive water bottles. The kitchen and lobby opened up to the living room, which covered an area that was equivalent in size to the areas Mari had already shown plus a little more. The walls were lined from ceiling to floor with books of all languages and topics, accompanied by two rolling ladders. The floor and bookshelves matched that same cedar tone, and a glossy black, grand piano rested on a fuzzy white rug in the far right corner. On the left side, Mari had set up an easel with painting supplies and a utilitarian grey stool, also complete with a fuzzy white rug, but this one had specks and splashes of paint mixed into it. A set of weights and a yoga mat were folded up on the far left side in a glass box behind the painting materials, and Yamato had to stop himself from fantasizing Mari pulling out the mat into the center of the otherwise bare living room to exercise. In the very middle of the big and empty room there was a large, grey sofa with soft white furry blankets draped artistically across it that faced out toward the wall furthest from them, which was made completely of glass and allowed for the a beautiful view of Hibiya Park and the sunset that was set to occur in the next half an hour.

Yamato could hear Mari talking nervously during this time, but he was too absorbed in drinking in every small detail that he could about Mari, scanning the bookshelves for book titles, tracing his hand lightly over the very good painting of the view of Hibiya Park that he was seeing at that moment, the sheet music to a Chopin nocturne with ink markings scribbled in between notes, noticing the small glass trinkets of bears that were placed on the glass and cedar coffee table in front of the sofa. The apartment was so minimalistic that Yamato treasured every one of these small details that he found that told him just a little bit more about Mari and her life. When he'd had enough observing for that moment, Yamato turned and hugged Mari closely, abruptly cutting off whatever she had been in the middle of rambling.

"Thank you for allowing me to come here," he said seriously yet softly, rubbing his thumb against her ear. "I'm honored that you allowed me into this part of your life."

"Um, I'm glad," Mari stuttered, face pressed against Yamato's chest sideways. "I'm glad you're happy."

"Can I see upstairs now?" Yamato asked, watching how the sunset reflected into Mari's eyes as those eyes widened with the implication he was obviously hinting. He wanted to see her bedroom.

"S-sure," Mari said, with forced cheerfulness, grabbing his hand and pointedly looking away while she half-dragged him toward the glass stairs that led upward.

"Upstairs here is the laundry closet first, and that area on the left leads out to a balcony. We can go there at the end of the tour. And next is this guest bedroom—" she opened the door for a split second, but there wasn't much to see other than a plain bed made up and a cedar drawer and desk and nightstand with a glass lamp and various tasteful, Japanese paintings. "And finally…" Mari trailed off, opening the last door in the house. "This is my bedroom."

She held the door formally, not stepping in herself but granting him permission to walk in. Yamato pushed the glass switch to turn on the small glass chandelier that hung in the middle of the room. Like downstairs, the wall furthest from them was completely glass, and a pair of thick grey, curtains could cover the wall automatically upon command. Mari's room was as simple as the rest of the apartment: a cedar desk in the far right corner facing the glass wall; a single drawer with a large, plain glass mirror hanging above with a small supply of makeup and perfumes and a few necklaces hanging in and on glass containers; an open-door, walk-in closet with the suggestion of many more of the same baggy, minimalistic clothing pieces that Mari always tended to wear, a door to the bathroom, which boasted a shower and glass tub in the middle; a plain cedar nightstand with a glass and cedar small, speaker system and a glass lamp (all just like the guest room's furniture), and a large, queen-sized bed with the same white, furry style as the blankets and rugs draped in the living room below. Tracing his fingers along the bedspread, Yamato walked over to Mari's desk and saw a closed envelope addressed to what seemed to be Mari's mother. On the second layer of the desk were two picture frames: one with Mari, himself, Asami, and Aiko, and the rest of their friends and the other—Yamato blushed deeply—one of Yamato and Mari that they had taken while on one of their dates. Yamato turned to Mari, the happiness on his face so evident because she had chosen to personalize her room with a photo of them together. Mari was as red as him, understanding that he'd seen the photo of the two of them together. She'd taken a few more steps into the room, just enough that Yamato could turn quickly, grab her hand, and pull her tumbling onto the bed with him. She shrieked in surprise and initially tried to push Yamato away, but he held on resolutely and eventually she relaxed into his arms. The sun was just on the edge of setting over the horizon of trees in the park, casting a subdued light pink hue over the couple on the bed.

Yamato rolled over, leaning over Mari's blushing face, his body pressed onto hers meaningfully.

"Mari," Yamato said loudly, relishing in the ability to say her name without whispers or moments of hesitation. He kissed her firmly, holding both of her hands, which had now long since relaxed spread out to her sides. They kissed like that for a few moments, leisurely exploring each other's mouths in a way that wasn't possible in a school environment which only allowed for a quick peck on the lips here and there or in public where a stranger might happen across them at any moment. Yamato deepened the kiss, releasing Mari's left hand so that he could cup her face before tangling that hand into her curly hair. Mari immediately used that hand to grasp the back of Yamato's shirt, pulling him closer. Maybe the person she had become since her father's death and since then in Japan wouldn't be bold enough to assert herself in this way, but there were some parts of Mari's new self that she was ready to shed away, and this was one of them. Realizing that Mari wasn't going anywhere, Yamato released her other hand and used both of his hands to pull Mari's face closer, kissing her even more insistently. Both hands freed, Mari began rubbing her hands up and down Yamato's back through his shirt, desperate to get closer. Yamato let out a low growl and ripped his mouth away from Mari's suddenly to her dismay, but she was then rewarded by Yamato's mouth leaving bite trails down her neck. His hands began deftly unbuttoning her school shirt, and Mari gasped, slipping her hands under Yamato's shirt to feel the heat of his skin. Yamato's eyes were glazed over in lust as he pushed off Mari's shirt and leaned up to fling it off the bed, during which time Mari also completed her unbuttoning of Yamato's shirt which then went flying off next to her own. Yamato pressed his hips into Mari's and she gasped, feeling him and seeing that look like he wanted to devour her as he seemed to hover, restraining himself over her.

"Mari," Yamato said, his voice deep with arousal. "Tell me to stop now, right now, or else I don't think I can anymore."

Mari was breathing deeply—everything had escalated so quickly but her mind was a fog where all she could see and focus on was Yamato, Yamato's face and Yamato's hard body.

"Don't you dare stop," she said finally, grabbing him by the belt and pulling him forward aggressively.

The sun set right as their lips connected once more, and they stayed that way for the rest of the night.

Whew! That's all for now. As I said before, read/review/favorite if you want to see more of this!