For every uncomfortable silence, there is a suitable and unsuitable time to breach it in attempt to rectify it, to cover up with words in vain attempt that conversation will pick up again and, once more, one could continue on with her life without having to deal with that disconcerting sensation of being self-conscious. For being self-conscious lead one to question herself, and then—who was it that said that, "To lose one's self in reverie, one must be either very happy, or very unhappy. [For] Reverie is the child of extremes?" The statement held true. Her reverie seemed to tear her apart and make her second guess herself; it caused her to perceive everything like it was one big "what if?" What if, during that time, she had been less assertive?" What if, she hadn't loved her like she had? What if, during those middle and high school years, she had been left to her own devices—still imagined to be untouchable and unreachable by the majority of Fuuka Gakuen's population—what would she be like then? If Rivarol's, that's right, if Antoine Rivarol's words were taken as a truth then she must have been unhappy with herself. Yes. She was so.

But this was not the time of the "what-ifs." This was the time of the now. One lived her life in the present; it was only afterwards, looking back, that she could understand it. Both Shizuru and Natsuki knew that now so that uncomfortable silence between them was going to be broken, even if they weren't ready for what lay ahead. But, then again, who ever was?

Back at Fuuka Gakuen, as the metaphorical dust of their battle finally settled and after Shizuru had given her that incredulous look as if to say, "What you just said, Natsuki, was a ridiculous understatement," as if on cue, it had begun to rain. Perhaps it was for the best that it did because the awkward silence between them had already started. So, thankful for the chance to break it, Natsuki offered to give Shizuru a ride back to their—her—home. She was thankful that the other woman acquiesced. She would have hated to stay in the academy for any longer. There were too many overwhelming memories there that reminded them of things they didn't need to recall.

And now, it was well into the raining afternoon, a dreary, dark, and humid summertime. Idealized weather it was not as the clouds became more and more menacing and ominous as rain began to fall faster and faster. It was the time where the strong winds could blow umbrellas out of unsuspecting people's hands and send them wayward into the air. It was the time where those unfortunate people caught in the rain avoided standing too close to the road, fearful of being drenched further by the passing cars and the miniature tidal waves they created. And, it was the also the time when Kuga Natsuki and Fujino Shizuru returned to that house in that well-off housing district on the outskirts of Fuuka, back into the building which neighbors jokingly referred to as the "Kuga-Fujino" home.

For Natsuki, there was something so right, so wonderful about the feeling of Shizuru's arms wrapped around her stomach and her body pressed tightly against her as they sped back to their once-shared home. It was a nostalgic feeling, one she had sorely missed. For an instance, their entire situation faded into the background and she just reveled in Shizuru's presence. Just for that moment, everything was so perfect that it felt like an idyllic dream, an almost wistful desire that never left her lips. Perhaps Shizuru felt the same sensation. The arms that had clasped around her so firmly—as if the other woman feared that if she let go of her, she would disappear—had loosened and she felt Shizuru's body relaxed.

However, all that ended when they reached the house. Since Shizuru was with her, Natsuki instinctively stopped her motorcycle before the entranceway instead of going straight through to the genkan. Even though the other woman no longer lived or owned the building, thus even if Natsuki ran over all the unweeded, uncared for flowers, and Shizuru didn't have the right to say anything—the action itself stemmed from habit—as if everything that had transcribed over the last few months meant nothing, like they were just coming back from a long ride that they often took together. As she took off her gloves and began to walk into the house, Natsuki realized that she wasn't being followed. Turning around, she faced the burgundy-eyed woman.

Shizuru seemed like she was trying her best to stay indifferent, to keep her mask on. However, that mask seemed to be half-fallen, hanging on the end and she could see what lay behind it: a glimpse of apprehension, self-doubt, and intense grief as Shizuru tried to remain calm. That sight did increase Natsuki's resolve; it was a rare sight to see the other woman without her walls up. It reminded her that they were both human and so, so fallible. It sounded stupid, but they were in the same situation together and…seeing her look so lonely and alone standing there, Natsuki felt like their roles had been suddenly reversed. So she walked back to her and held out her hand, silently imploring that the other woman would take it.

When Shizuru looked up at her, what little remained of her mask instantly crumbled and while all those worries, doubts, and fear were still there, there was also a glimmer of hope shining in her teary eyes. It was a sight that broke her and made her feel like crying as well because she was also scared. Scared to fail, to crush that glimmer of hope that she put there, along with all the misery.

And then, the hand was taken. Shizuru looked demurely away, her expression and body language clearly said, "Please don't disappoint me, Natsuki. I can't take any more pain." All she could do was answer with her own small, sad smile and gently pull her along as they slowly walked across the front yard, up the stone steps, and into the genkan. The reason why they slowly walked back despite their instincts telling them to run into the safety of their home was because they—people who had a tendency to over think every minute decision and action—were trying to delay the impossible: their true confrontation. But despite all that, even as they were taking off their wet shoes and socks, Natsuki refused to let go. It was her indecision that made Shizuru leave and, now, it would be her determination that had brought her back. She, in fear of even the thought of the other woman leaving, continued to grip her hand as they moved deeper and deeper into the house.

She felt like she was backtracking, moving back in time. Only instead of being a pleasant, sunny spring morning, it was now a rainy summer afternoon as she and Shizuru, hand-in-hand, slowly walked on the engawa, bypassing the now muddy white sand garden, hearing the rain's constant clatter as it hit the tile roof. From his ishidoro-like home, Duran the Ainu immediately looked up, barking happily at the sorely missed sight of the woman who often spoiled him. The wet Ainu ran towards them, as far as his leash would allow, jumping playful as his tail furiously waved back-and-forth. When turning back, Natsuki saw Shizuru smiling at the sight, and when she turned to face her, the burgundy-eyed woman gave her a hesitant smile. So she returned it with one of her own as they moved to the end of the veranda. She slid open one of the shouji doors with her free hand and moved back towards the room—more of a space than anything, as there was no such thing as rooms in a traditional Japanese house—to where it had all started. Perhaps not where it actually began, but when the effects had finally culminated to its boiling point with Shizuru suddenly (or perhaps not-so suddenly) leaving her. At this point, she hardly cared whether or not the tatami would mold with all the dripping water that followed them. There were more important things to worry about.

Now here, she finally let go of Shizuru's hand. She moved towards one of the closets, rummaged through it, and unloaded the contents of her search into the other woman's arms. At Shizuru's confused look, she looked down and cursed her lack of control over her expression as her face turned red.

"You should go take a shower. I…I don't want you to catch a cold or anything…"

Oh, how eloquent she was. Or rather, how not. She cursed herself for sounding so stupid. The first thing she said to Shizuru after entering the house was that? What happened to everything she had rehearsed, all the different daydreams and fantasies—the well-rehearsed scenarios—where she imagined herself in this position? Caught up in silently berating herself, she never noticed how the golden brown-haired woman's mouth quirked up into a fond smile and moved closer to her. Green eyes widen as she felt cold lips press against her cheek and arms encircle her in a brief hug. Out of instinct, her hand flew to where Shizuru had kissed her when she was released.

"Ookini, Natsuki," Shizuru said, smiling at her. With the clothes and towel that she had given her in her arms, the older woman left, leaving her to only stare at her back. After a moment she walked forward, and slid the door shut.

She went back to the closet to pull out another towel and began to dry her hair with it. As she did this, Natsuki slowly sank down to her knees as she tried to reassure herself that Shizuru would come back. That it wasn't like the last time when they were here. Her eyes focused on the open, nearly empty closet at the opposite end of the room where Shizuru's clothes had once occupied. She saw the dark-colored school uniform there, the one that Shizuru had worn during her times as Student Council President of Fuuka Gakuen. Taken by the moment, she stood up and walked towards it, touching the fabric with her hands.

Her hand traveled across the surface, feeling the uniform as if she was blind. She understood why she had been so ignorant, that all her actions had been ignorant, that she barely comprehended her own self, let alone Shizuru's, but she still couldn't get over what she had done to have the other woman take so much notice to her, to become so devoted to her ever they met in middle school. Love? She was ashamed of herself; how could had gotten so far into her life without even realizing that what she felt for Shizuru was love and yet, be so caught up in life, taking her for granted to a point that all of this had transpired? Was it even possible for someone to be so blind for…what was it, over ten years? Of those, three of the years she had actually lived with Shizuru, she saw her every day, slept side-by-side with her, ate with her...laughed and cried with her. Although, perhaps Shizuru had cried far more than she ever had thought.

Now, for her, the question was…how could she turn back the clock, return back to the past but remain as she was now so she could change the outcome? How could she overcome every fact that made Shizuru accept to leave her? How does one go about rectifying, overcoming an expectation, the limit made of her?

She sank back down to her knees, still in her contemplative state, tracing invisible patterns into the tatami. Hadn't she overcame the expectations—broken free of the cage that she had self-imposed onto herself? Didn't she come to accept the concept of love and the fact that she loved Shizuru? She had broken free of it, the forever looping hallucination-like, delirium-like state that had haunted her for most of her life to find her own idea of nirvana. She stopped her actions, looked up and smiled at the school uniform that Shizuru once wore. Yes. She had broken out of her delirium.

She waited a little while longer before Shizuru finally returned. Her ears picked up the barely audible, but definite soft steps of bare feet walking about the tatami. As the door slid open once more, her mouth automatically opened to welcome her back. But when Shizuru stepped back into the area, Natsuki's mouth closed and she swallowed hard.

Long, bare, perfectly shaped, cream colored legs met her at eye level. She felt as if an invisible force pulled her head upwards, her eyes slowly dragging along the contours of Shizuru's body: first those breath-taking legs, up towards the end of the men's dress shirt, those shapely hips, that slim waist—higher and higher, past those lush pink lips that were curved into an amused smile—and finally met twinkling wine-colored eyes.

"Is something wrong?" Shizuru asked far too innocently to be sincere, causing Natsuki to freeze up and choke. Had she been that self-absorbed that she completely missed all of that? Her eyes fell downwards, downwards, downwards down to those bare legs. Her action caused the other woman to laugh softly and answer her unspoken question: "You never gave me."

She wanted to cry, she really did. But then she did remember: she just had grabbed the first thing that came to mind—her sleepwear which only did consist of the shirt and underwear. As she continued to mentally punish herself, Shizuru walked towards Natsuki's closet and took some clothes out. Kneeling down, she handed them to the blue-haired woman.

"It is your turn, Natsuki," she said softly with a matching tender smile. The still rain-soaked woman nodded, accepting the bundle and left the room.

As she left, Shizuru could only look at her departing form with a fond smile. It was strange. Somehow, she had always expected the situation to be far more tense. She had prepared herself for the worse. Yet here she was, back in her old home, and waiting for Natsuki once more. Again. She felt like she was always waiting patiently for the other girl. But, it wasn't that the processes of waiting had always been painful; she had the delight to watch her slowly grow and mature, mature into the woman that had boldly offered her hand to her minutes ago. Something had changed within Natsuki, something that gave her hope.

However, she had not been idly waiting for her these past few weeks. In that way, she was different from how she had been in the past. She had long tired of patiently waiting. It was what had nearly driven her insane—away, away from Natsuki in the beginning.

Wasn't that what had drawn Kiyohime to her? That poor ghost who had traveled…She shook that thought to the side. That was inconsequential to her now.

What was she doing here, exactly? Didn't she make the decision to have nothing to do with Natsuki anymore? Was the ghost correct—that she wasn't her own person that she would always choose her—pursue Natsuki? Wasn't that why she was now here again? She was waiting, waiting for Natsuki again. She had gone back to Fuuka—she should have politely declined Mashiro's request to attend that meeting—back into the house she swore she would never return to, and now was waiting for Natsuki. It didn't matter if it was just a simple shower or something deeper…she wanted nothing to do with the cursed place anymore. Didn't she?

Her eyes glanced upwards, looking up. She noticed her closet was open and the black school uniform she used to wear. She stood up and walked to it. To her, it looked like some ugly black spot that marred her past. Those stripes of white on the cloth were like bars to her, constricting her to the days—holding her back, in the background—only allowed to watch in the background as Natsuki chase after everything but her. She wanted to cast it all aside: it was why she had left it here. She bit her lip.

Then perhaps the ghost was right. She would—did—go after her again. It didn't matter if it was through her own decision or the ghost that once possessed her. She had. Her hands tightly grasped the uniform, her hands curling into a fist tightly around it.

"Damn you, Natsuki," she whispered softly even as tears welled up into her eyes. She didn't know why she felt suddenly so emotional. It was as if every once of her muscles and self-control and suddenly loosened and she was suddenly left completely bare, emotionally drained and so, so very tired. She dimly heard the door slide open and her hands instinctively went up to wipe her tears away and her back turned away. However she was not fast enough.

"Shizuru, what's wrong?" She heard Natsuki say, concerned, rushing towards her.

She pushed away the presence and turned away. "It is nothing, I just had something in my eyes," she finished, lamely. She felt hands on her shoulder forcefully turn her around.

"Don't give me that!" Natsuki snapped at her before her voice instantly softened. "I don't want to see that side of you anymore, Shizuru."

Not wanting to look directly at her, Shizuru looked to the side, "I should leave. It was unwise of me to come here." She brushed off the slack hands on her shoulders and moved away. She nearly made it to the door before strong hands grabbed her firmly and spun her around her again.

"Is that it? Are you just going to run away from me again?" Natsuki said quietly, her voice sad.

"You mistake yourself for me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Shizuru sighed and turned around, "We have already had this conversation."

"No we haven't talked. You never gave me a chance to say anything."

"There was nothing you could say."

"Yes there was," Natsuki said, inflection rising, getting frustrated. "I just—

"There isn't. Had there been, it would have been said."

"Yes there—damn it! I'm not going to get into an argument with you about this. Listen to what I have to say."

"Why should I," she snapped, her voice far too passionate, far too emotional to be recognized as her own, "when I already know what you will say? That you don't—

A heartbeat, two hearts beat. Distance closed in, bridging the gap. At first, it was all so soft, soft and silent and ghost-like, like grazing of silk against skin, arms brushing in accidentally haste before movements became more purposeful, intentions solidified. One hand on the Shizuru's's neck, brushing away hair. The other wrapped around her waist. A fond smile, warms hands. Lips touched and moved against hers with familiarity, but this time radiated with the passion that had always been missing. Hunger. The arms that touched her shifted and now tightly embraced around her. Lips now pressed tighter her own unresponsive owns with desperate abandon. It was as if, only at this distance that the sentiments formed by those moving lips could be communicated seeing how any farther they would be unheard. Pressure increased, becoming more desperate. Her knees gave way beneath her but her fall was slowed down by the arms around her, the body too slowly moved down until they were sitting down.

Contradiction. That was what Shizuru felt when the shock began to slowly lesson. The sheer gravity of the kiss pulled her in, she felt the need to reciprocate it, but at the same time, her stubborn will held. Before she could push away, Natsuki had let go although the distance between them remained small, foreheads touching, both of them panting slightly. All it would take was a slight movement and she could reclaim those soft pink lips again.

"Now will you listen to me?" Natsuki asked almost wryly, a satisfied smile on her lips. When she received no answer from the blonde-haired woman, her smile widened and she reached over, brushing a strand of hair away from Shizuru's face. "I guess that was long overdue."

"…why?" Shizuru managed to whisper out.

"Why?" Natsuki said softly, barely louder than her whisper as if fearing if she spoke any louder the moment would shatter. "It was the only way I figured I could get your attention. But don't get me wrong," she said quickly, "it wasn't just that…I wanted you to…Shizuru?"

This time, she could not prevent the tears from falling from her eyes. Slowly one fell down her face, and then another, and then another and another until all Shizuru saw in front of her was a concerned blue blur in front her before her hands covered her face. "Forgive me, forgive me Natsuki." Before she could say any more, her hands were gently pried from her face.

"I should be the one saying 'forgive me,' I didn't mean to make you cry," Natsuki said. When she received no answer, she continued, "I just wanted to do something this time so you wouldn't leave again…I don't want you leaving, ever again. You mean too much to me Shizuru."

"What does this mean?" Shizuru asked.

"It means that I…I…" Natsuki struggled before she changed topics. "You know, it took me a long while to sort everything out. But I guess it worked out better, in the end."

"I see," Shizuru said tentatively.

"I mean it, it gave me time to think and…I came to a decision. Actually no…I realized that the answer was always in front of me." Natsuki, despite the situation, had to smile.

"So your decision?" Shizuru murmured.

"I'll get to that in a moment, so can you wait a little longer? I feel like I have to say this out loud, to you. Because it's so important. Like I said before, the answer was always in front of me, Shizuru. You know how I spent so long chasing after things I could never get. At the time…I didn't realize that I was just chasing a dream that I could reach, it made me so obsessed that I couldn't see what was in front of. That's until you left and made me see it, you."

"Natsuki, what are you doing? I just—

A hand reached out and enveloped her own, effectively stopping her.

"I know, Shizuru. I know. I promise I won't give you any more pain. I now know everything I put you through because I was so blind. It's just…just I don't know how to make it up to you. Because, after I finally woke up from my dream, I realized what I always wanted you had been giving to me from the beginning. I realized that I wanted you. So I went after you again," she said finally. "Will you come back again, to me, Shizuru?"

Shizuru looked to the side, her expression apprehensive, "It hasn't been easy for me either."

"I know it hasn't."

"I spent so much time chasing after you only for you to never look at me. So I left you. But even after I left, I kept obsessing over you, Natsuki. And with that distance between us, I too found out something about myself. I was completely overwhelmed with how strong my love was for you, And I still am. It consumes every bit of me. For you, I would lose complete control over myself. It still scares me so much."

"Shizuru…"

"I told myself I wouldn't chase after you again. That I had to finally distance myself from you, but I still went after you. It makes me feel so weak. It made me realize that I shouldn't depend on someone as much as I do you…but I can't help it. What are you? You who could make me shatter into a million glass-like pieces?"

Shizuru looked up to see Natsuki's empathic green eyes holding so much emotion in them, the grip of the hand holding her own was tight.

"I'm the same way," Natsuki admitted slowly after a moment. "When you were gone, I was so focused on you, trying to figure out what I did wrong."

"Natsuki, I'm just so scared and tired. I don't want to go through this anymore. I can't keep this up anymore. Anymore and…and I'll just break. It makes me feel so weak, knowing that my existence relies so much on you and your actions. But…even after everything, I still want you so much it burns me." Not being able to take it anymore, she threw herself into Natsuki's arms, desperately embracing her. "Why do I love you so much?"

Natsuki returned her embrace just as strong. "I feel the same way. Damn it, why is this so difficult—why can't we start over from the beginning?"

"We can't. There is already too much between us. For us, there will be no clean slate," Shizuru said. "Our history is too deep for that."

"But this isn't the end!" Natsuki said empathically. "Is it, Shizuru?"

"Despite everything, no. I don't want it to be," Shizuru said honestly, resting her chin on Natsuki's shoulder.

"Then this isn't the beginning and this isn't the end."

"Shall we say it's a new chapter?"

"Alright." Natsuki broke off their embrace so she could look clearly at Shizuru. "It's going to be different this time. This time, I promise I'll never try to hurt you again."

"Then," Shizuru shifted, now sitting in seiza in front of Natsuki. With one clean moment, she bowed lowly, her head touching the floor. "Please take good care of me."

Natsuki smiled. As Shizuru moved out of the position, she mimicked her actions, bowing lowly to the women in front of her as well. "Likewise. Take good care of me."

As she rose from her position, she saw Shizuru smiling at her as well. Even though everything seemed different from before—but in a good way—she couldn't help but to feel excited and elated; she also knew that Shizuru felt the same way just by looking at the older women's expression. No, she realized, even though this wasn't the beginning, this wasn't the end—this was a new step. This time, she would get it right. And she did know, that she would not let this chance be wasted.

She smiled, fully realizing her situation.

On this stormy spring night, Fujino Shizuru had come back to her.