hardboiled strawberries

halcyon days

hopeful princess

hoping,

hoping boy

hop and roll

hardboiled boy

hop and roll

hop and roll

here it goes

…

…

hardboiled & halcyon you.

1

Colors, more than everything

…

She, like Rukia, loved to read manga. And she, like Rukia, read them with incredible passion, complete with random reactions. Except that, Rukia's were violent, and hers were exaggerated.

She, unlike Rukia, wasn't easily interrupted (and when she was, she didn't get violent). And, unlike Rukia when interrupted will stand up, kick his face or wallop the back of his head, she would only smile at him and get back to her world.

The rooftop was deserted except for Ichigo and Orihime. It was April, two weeks after the start of their new term. Fifteen minutes before the bell, their friends returned to their classroom leaving them alone. Ever since they got public with their relationship (which was cordially received with mixed reactions: Chizuru screaming bloody murder and Keigo and his waterworks; Tatsuki's was a threat— I will break every frigging bone in your body and you know I can and I will if you make her cry! – but she was undeniably happy; however, Ichigo read that threat differently: baka, it's my time to take the sideline and watch. It's your turn to protect her now and do not- I repeat- fail me! There is no second chance, no next time… I hate to say this, but you— you're the only person I can trust Orihime with), his group of friends started to eat lunch with hers.

Orihime, as influenced recently by Rukia before the petite shinigami left for Soul Society, was reading a manga. Only recently that Ichigo discovered that the manga she was obsessing with was completely shounen— Rukia was obsessed with shoujo which was surprising— and mature, complete with gore and language. At first, Ichigo told her off about it. It was a gory and violent shounen manga where men blow heads up, rip out spines and shot people point-blank in the face. But she giggled, showed him one of her brightest smile, which Aizen— that fucking, ambitious bastard— wanted to see but failed, and said gently,

"It's okay. I've seen worst."

And that made him drop his argument and he simply watched her.

That statement painfully reminded him that this girl— his girl now… believe it, you bastard! as he had shouted once, one night when he introduced her to a crazy idiot he called father— was the same girl who got manhandled by two jealous Arrancars, choked by a blue-haired megalomaniac psychopath, watched him fight violent battles after battles, saw him got blasted by a crazy Cero, saw him transformed into something ugly— and very beautiful she once said candidly, you changed for me, for me…to save me, and he didn't feel ugly anymore— saw deaths, watched battles, got emotionally battered… cried, struggled to live and survive even though it was difficult, and she was alone, and there were people and creatures that disrespected her, used her, hurt her…and yet, after all the drama and violence, she remained hopeful. She remained positive. She kept trusting him, believing him… loving him.

A gory and violent shounen manga would not faze her in slightest.

Hell, her stomach was strange and strong enough for it.

Ichigo sighed, and looked up to the clear blue sky.

Finally.

Some peace and quiet after the dreadful Winter War.

With friends, shinigami and humans alike who survived, albeit hurt. Intact town. Safe family. Orihime. Beside him. With him.

Alive.

For a moment, he wanted to grab her hand, squeeze it hard to feel the shift of her bones underneath her pale skin just to make sure she is alive and she is here.

He heard her giggle. Really, was there something to giggle about in a gory, mature, violent, bloody shounen manga?

"What are you so happy about?" asked Ichigo curiously as he looked at her.

The auburn-haired girl looked up at him sideways, her large eyes sparkling. A thick lock of hair fell between their faces. "He shot him in the knee." She replied, pointing. Ichigo glanced away from the page.

"And what's funny about it?"

Her eyes blinked. "Well… he said, 'that tickles!'"

Ichigo shook his head and resumed watching the clouds.

"That was funny, Kurosaki-kun!"

"Yeah, yeah… whatever you say, Hime."

She became quiet. Discreetly, he glanced at her under his lashes, head still tilted up to the sky. Breeze softly lifted her hair, which was longer and very thick, and glossy. Her eyelashes were incredible: long, impossibly long. They brushed the swells of her cheeks. Sometimes, she would blink slowly— he liked watching her blink— her eyes would open slowly, but they close quickly. When she was daydreaming, her eyes would look hooded, lashes lowered over her caramel-colored eyes.

The two of them were standing side by side against the fence, wearing their uniforms with jackets. His hands were inside his pockets, one foot on the ground, the other on the fence. His eyebrow lifted, listening to her murmur incoherently. He slightly shook his head again, looked up and waited for the bell.

"Ohhhh no! LOOK BEHIND YOU!"

Ichigo jumped, startled at her yell. "What the hell!" Orihime was clutching the manga before her eyes.

"Noooo, I told you! Look behind you! Takeshi— that evil guy— was behind you, clutching a bazooka, but you, yes you! You didn't listen to me and now you're dying… you're dying and dying is so sad because you're alone with that big hole in your chest and your skull opened and you're missing an eye and the little blue men and yellow daisies and red bean paste aliens will come and get you and take you away far, far, far away and—"

"Orihime." Ichigo dragged out.

She stopped and beamed at him prettily. "Yes, Kurosaki-kun?"

He sighed in defeat, relaxed and lazily dropped his head sideward to rest his cheek on top of her head. Orihime flushed heavily at the contact, wide-eyed, even though it was just his cheek on top of her head. They stood side by side, his head on hers with a scowl on his face, eyes closed, and hands inside his pockets. From outsider's point of view, one would wonder why the guy had such a sour face and the girl had redder than red face, clutching a manga in her small, white hands as if she was having a heart attack.

"Breathe, Hime." The orange-haired teen said softly.

Her eyelashes fluttered. "W-what…?"

"Breathe."

Orihime felt her face grow redder.

"And relax."

"I… I am breathing… Kurosaki-kun."

Ichigo maintained his position, enjoying the softness of her hair against his cheek. "What's so great about that manga anyway? It's too violent for you to read."

The change in conversation excited her. "Oh! It's not violent! It's exciting, Kurosaki-kun! With lots and lots of action scenes! It was amazingly drawn… I hope they were colored."

The scowl deepened. She wanted it… colored? That gory… manga? He thanked whoever genius it was who invented black-and-white comics.

"Why?"

He can imagine her glowing with a smile. "Why else, Kurosaki-kun? It will be more exciting!"

He will never understand the way her mind worked. But he liked her very much that way. I don't have to worry about her mental health just because of a gross manga. Ichigo lifted his cheek off her head, stretched his neck and pushed off the fence to stand in front of his girlfriend. Orihime was still engrossed with her manga, her eyes wide and attentive. She was even biting her lip in anticipation. Eagerly, she turned to the next page and her jaw dropped. Ichigo had to suppress a grin at her comical expression.

"What's up, Hime?"

Slowly, wide-eyed, she met his amused gaze. But his amusement evaporated at her obvious distress. He frowned, pulled his hands out of his pockets and stepped closer to her.

"Kurosaki-kun…"

"What? Does your stomach hurt?"

"…it said," she bit her lip.

Ichigo frowned deeply, worried.

"The page said, 'see you next volume'!"

The substitute shinigami felt his jaw drop and a vein pounded in his temple as his brows went up. "…what!"

"I'm so upset! I have to wait for next week! Takeshi and Reiko finally meet after 5 volumes and I was so excited because you see, Reiko hates Takeshi because he killed Takuya but Takeshi did that because he has his reasons which he keeps secret and Reiko looked for him because she wants to kill him as a revenge but she can't because she has feelings for him… and when I turned to the next page… look!" She shoved the manga under his nose. "Did you see it, Kurosaki-kun?"

"Yeah, I can." He muttered, his brows twitching. "In black bold letters, Orihime."

She pouted. "I don't like cliffhangers, you know."

"Obviously."

She sighed deeply, hunching her shoulders, her arms hanging limply beside her. Ichigo held her shoulders and straightened her up. "Blah. Don't get upset. Takano—"

"Takeshi." She corrected.

His mouth twitched, "yeah, Takeshi and Renji—"

"—Reiko. Renji-kun is a shinigami!"

Ichigo's eyebrow twitched. "Whatever, Hime." He cupped the side of her face and tilted her head up. Her auburn-orange hair gently rippled in the breeze, touching his face, his hair. She smelled of fresh laundry, no perfumes, and like newly unwrapped chocolates. She was pouting, and playfully, she puffed her left cheek. A rare smile cracked his face as he lifted another hand to gently pinch her other cheek. "I'll walk you home later."

Orihime blinked. "You always walk me home." She pointed out with a dazzling smile.

The substitute rolled his eyes and gently tugged at a lock of hair. "I know. But I wanted us to make a quick detour. Is it okay?"

She nodded, "of course, Kurosaki-kun!" she wrapped a hand on his arm, looking up to him happily, her cheeks in natural blush. "I don't mind! Oh, maybe we can grab some ice cream later, too? And some bread? And some red bean paste? And oh! I ran out of wasabi last night! I tried a new recipe: macaroni and cheese with wasabi! The result was heavenly, Kurosaki-kun! I never thought cheese and wasabi would taste great together…"

Ichigo shook his head and gave her hair another tug. "Sure, Hime. Whatever that makes you happy." He released her hair and took the manga from her hand. "Let's go back." He stuck the manga between his arm and body as he narrowed his eyes. "And don't fall asleep in English, Orihime. You'll miss a lot and the lecturer will give you a hard time like the last time."

"Yes, thank you so much, Kurosaki-kun, for reminding me." Orihime said as they walked back to class.

"Are you having nightmares?"

The girl quickly replied. "Nooooo."

Ichigo raised a brow disbelievingly.

"Well… I dreamed about you eating my entire red bean paste sandwiches."

The corner of his mouth twitched. It was his nightmare. But knowing how much she loved her red bean paste sandwiches, of course, it was her nightmare, too.

"What else did you dream about?"

"Mmm, well…" She was obviously stalling, maybe preparing for a lie. But Orihime…could not lie to him properly. Ichigo reached down between them and grasped her hand firmly, making them stop their walk.

"Tell me."

"But…"

"If you're preparing for another 'little blue men and little green men invading earth and planting green bean paste instead of red bean paste' lie, I will burn this manga."

He hated threatening her, but he never wanted her to lie to him just because she did not want to burden him with her feelings. She had been so alone for a long time, and now that he was there and here for her, along with their other friends, he will never let her deal with her fears, insecurities, nightmares, disappointments, pain and doubts alone.

They were more than friends.

More than nakama.

She was something more.

She was everything and more.

Orihime chewed on her bottom lip, debating whether to tell him or not. "Well, there was Aizen… and… and… the Hougyoku. But it was such a short nightmare! Aizen didn't even talk!"

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, examining her closely. Orihime started to blush madly at the intense scrutiny. Ichigo stood back, still looking at her with half-lidded eyes, still holding her hand. Without a word, he led her back to their 2nd year classroom. Ichigo pointedly ignored the incredulous stares of fellow students, who he knew, wore disbelieving faces as they watched him and Orihime walked by, holding hands. Who would have thought that a scary, orange-haired punk will hook up with one of the school's most beautiful faces?

Fuck off, morons.

His ego swelled, even more, when he felt Orihime wrapped her fingers around his.

"Punks! Bell had rang, you idiots! Go back inside your rooms!" A male teacher yelled. Students scrammed to their respective rooms. Ichigo and Orihime entered their room. He pushed her inside first, pushing her until she reached her desk and sat down to her chair. Gently, he put the manga on top of her head and walked off to his own desk. Smilingly, Orihime lifted the manga off her head and placed it under her desk.

…

…

2

Paradise.

…

He held her hand tightly, and he knew it made her blush so much that it was funny. If she believed his scowl was funny, he, in turn, believed her blush was funny, as well.

"I thought I told you not to sleep in English class."

Orihime smiled sheepishly as she rubbed the back of her head. "But… I was really, really tired." When he narrowed his eyes, she added quickly, "but honestly, the nightmare wasn't a bother! After dinner, I finished my assignments… I slept okay… I dreamed about my mecha-self with Ultimate Blazing Super Bazooka coming out of my forehead then… there was Aizen. He was looking at me, and Hougkyou was staring back at me. Apart from those, there was nothing… v-violent or bloody occurred. Believe me, please, don't worry anymore, Kurosaki-kun."

"Fine."

She grinned happily.

"…but I'll ask again later."

The grin turned into a pout.

Ichigo smiled simply at her cute child-like expression. "Where do you want to go first?"

"Eh? You said you want to take a detour…"

Ichigo shrugged, "we'll go first where you want to go." Orihime stared up, wide-eyed, to her protector's scowling face. A smile started to tug at her lips as a warm, tender feeling overflowed from her heart. Kurosaki-kun was so kind and considerate. Maybe, he sucked in expressing his feelings properly (she giggled as she recalled how he confessed to her, yelling and stammering at the same time to her that she had trouble comprehending his words) and how to properly convey his thoughts without offending anyone, but under all the rough edges, the tough shell and scowling visage, her Kurosaki-kun was a big bear with big heart.

"Oi. Why are you looking at me like that?"

Orihime blinked a couple of times. "Y-yes…? I'm sorry, what did you say, Kurosaki-kun?"

He smirked slightly. "Stop picturing me naked, Hime."

Her face turned bloody red as she froze in her track. "W-what! I… I'm n-not!" she put a palm over her face, positively mortified. Ichigo let out a quiet chuckle and reached down to her to tug at her hair.

"Just kidding."

Orihime was still blushing as she stuttered, "That was…e-embarrassing!"

Ichigo shrugged. "It was fun to watch you go red."

"Kurosaki-kun!"

"Yeah… Hey, you said you wanted to buy some bread, right?" She pouted as a reply. Ichigo just tugged her forward. "Check the expiration date, will you?" he ordered as he guided her inside the bakery shop. "I freaked out when I saw a loaf of bread the other night in your kitchen. It was already expired, you idiot… so I threw it in the trash can."

Gray eyes widened. "Eh! So you're the one who got rid of my bread!"

He frowned at her, exasperated. "So what? It's expired, Orihime."

"But… It can get lonely inside the trash can…"

Ichigo sweat-dropped, "it won't be. There are other junks inside. It's not alone."

"Oh! That's great! Oh, look! Red bean spread! Red bean juice! Red bean spaghetti sauce…"

Ichigo was dumbfounded. What the hell…? A red bean paradise!

It was like stepping inside a Chappy Paradise (which he vehemently erased from his memory, but alas, he remembered now).

"Wow! Wah! So many red bean pastes and ohhhhh, look, Kurosaki-kun! A red bean stalk! And red bean spread! Wow!" He watched his girlfriend ran around the displays, excitement radiating off her. She looked positively happy, beaming and laughing as she fussed around the display. "This is amazing! Kurosaki-kun, there are so many red bean paste! I didn't know such haven exists!"

Haven?

He groaned.

"Yeah… Me too." He said dryly.

She beamed at him, and he could not help but to smile back.

"Check the expiration date, okay?"

Orihime nodded vigorously, "Hai, Kurosaki-kun!" she replied before turning (and tripping in the process) to rush at the displays.

Ichigo sighed deeply, watching her fret and read the labels for the expiry date. After a few minutes, he decided to walk over to her to check on her. "Orihime, what's the hold up?"

"Oh, Kurosaki-kun… I can't decide what to buy."

"What! You haven't picked any thing yet?"

Orihime nodded. "I can't choose between red bean paste and red bean spread."

"Just pick them both."

"But…"

"It will obviously break your heart if you have to choose one. So, get them both."

Her cheeks colored. "Well… I don't have enough—"

"I'll buy this red bean spread for you."

She gasped, looking up to him in embarrassment. "oh! But Kurosaki-kun, you don't have to, I mean—" Ichigo took the items from her hands.

"Let's go already. You said you wanted to buy some ice cream, didn't you?"

"But…"Orihime bit her lip, looking up to him with her large eyes.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me like that. Come on. You have a pile of English assignments to finish." He narrowed his eyes, "that's for sleeping in class." Orihime giggled nervously behind her hand. They went to the counter and paid for her purchases, stuttering her thanks to Kurosaki-kun for paying for the red bean spread she liked very much to try. Ichigo waved off her gratitude, grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the market, eager to leave the 'red bean paradise'.

…

…

3

Together, being together…

…

Frowning, Ichigo poked Orihime in the arm with the blunt tip of his pencil. "Oi, power nap's over. Wake up."

But the girl didn't budge. Ichigo repeated the action, albeit carefully. They were in her apartment, working their homework together. While in the process of finishing her English homework, Ichigo noticed Orihime's frequent yawning. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, and she looked exhausted. He asked her if she was alright to which she responded with a bright smile. His expression had softened slightly at her effort.

"Just sleepy! English was especially tough…unlike last year. Ano, Kurosaki-kun, do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?"

What a selfless girl.

"I'm fine. Just finish your assignment so that you can get some rest." He examined her closely. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine, Kurosaki-kun. Thank you."

And she proceeded to finish her work, but right in the middle of writing a sentence, she fell asleep and her face hit her notebook. At first, he panicked. He thought she lost consciousness but hearing her steady deep breathing, he deduced that she fell asleep. With a frown, he continued his own homework and let Orihime napped. However, after thirty minutes, Orihime remained sleeping, not even budging. The only indication that she was alive was the subtle movement of her shoulders. She hadn't move from her position, one cheek on the table, one hand holding her pencil, the other laying on the table.

Shaking his head, Ichigo reached out to grasp her shoulder firmly. "Orihime." There was no response. "Hime." He shook her gently. "Hey, power nap's over. Orihime. Oi." Ichigo moved closer until he was next to her. With both hands, he took hold of her fragile shoulders, pulled her up to sitting position whilst supporting her body. Her head hung forward awkwardly, her hair framing and covering her face.

"Hime? Damn, she's already asleep." With one hand, palm up, he cupped her forehead and gently pushed her face up. As though boneless, her head tilted backward so quickly that Ichigo swore, fearing that she might suffer from neck fracture. Gently, a palm on her cheek, he put her head between his shoulder and chin.

"You're this tired, Hime?" Ichigo murmured against her bangs, clutching at her hair. "Oi, wake up. You haven't eaten yet." But the girl remained motionless. He frowned and felt her spiritual pressure. Her reiatsu was, as usual, gentle and warm. But, it was softer than before. For him, Orihime's reiatsu was like sunshine, a ray of sunlight. Warm, soothing. Very, very warm. With relaxed brows, he studied her face, his hand on her cheek with several locks of caramel-auburn hair curling around his long fingers. She looked plain tired. She had no bags under her eyes that might indicate lack of sleep. Her breathing was regular, deep but rhythmic. He narrowed his brown eyes, watching her closely.

She looked okay. She doesn't look like she's having nightmares.

As a matter of fact, it seemed that she was having a very, very nice sleep. She slept deeply, beautifully.

Ichigo sighed. I would feel immensely guilty if I wake her up. He moved one arm to slide it under her knees, his eyes on his arm. From the corner of his eye, he saw something flickered.

What was that?

One of her pale hands—

Ichigo blinked, and then narrowed his eyes.

That hand looked… paler than usual.

Of course, Orihime had pale skin, almost white, but— not this white. Not this pale that it almost appeared transparent.

Quick like a lightning, he moved his arm out under her legs and grabbed her hand tightly.

Her hand was warm.

And present.

Her hand was there.

Quickly, he grasped at her reiatsu mentally, letting her graceful, soft reiatsu mingled with his, calming him.

Ichigo swore under his breath. Him and his paranoia. Ever since her disappearance, sensing her presence had become automatic, like breathing. It was so easy to sense her. (Although Ishida, that arrogant, high-and-mighty bastard, always told him he sucked in sensing reiatsu, and no matter how many times he'd told him that he didn't suck at anything at all, Ishida would snap back an annoying smartass reply: "your argument has no basis, Kurosaki. You sucked in sensing reiatsu and that's final."

"YOU ASS I DON'T SUCK! I can sense reiatsu! I feel Orihime's reiatsu all the time!"

Silence.

"I take back what I said."

"Heh."

"You're hopeless."

"SAY WHAT!")

Calmed, Ichigo released her small hand and decided to carry her to her room. Carefully, he lowered her to her small bed. Before starting their homework, she had changed to her drawstring blue pants and overlarge shirt with enormous hood. In her outfit, she looked even smaller, frailer. With a small smile, he brushed a knuckle on her cheek and rubbed her hair. His brows furrowed slightly, thinking whether to take off her hairpins or not.

Nah. It's better if she has them on all the time.

After pulling her blanket up to her chin, he left her room, closing the door behind him. He returned to the table and continued doing their homework.

…

…

4

Sunshine, that's what you are.

…

Fifteen minutes before morning bell, Orihime arrived.

"Kurosaki-kun!"

The second year orange-haired shinigami hybrid looked up and turned his head towards the door. "Oi, Orihime." He stood up and approached her. "Where have you been?" he felt Tatsuki arrived beside him as they stood in front of the auburn-haired girl.

Orihime smiled. "Gomen. I woke up late. And oh, I forgot! Good morning, Kurosaki-kun! Good morning, Tatsuki-chan!"

"Ohayo." Tatsuki leaned closer. "You're not the type of person who would wake up late, Orihime. Did you sleep okay?"

The girl positively beamed. "Hai!" And then, she flushed as she looked up to Ichigo. "Um, ano… Kurosaki-kun, last night…"

Tatsuki twitched as though electrocuted and instantly reacted. "Ichigo! What the hell—"

Ichigo stepped back to avoid Tatsuki's foot. "Oi! Watch out!"

"Please, stop, Tatsuki-chan! Why are you attacking Kurosaki-kun?" exclaimed Orihime.

"Yeah! What the hell is your problem, woman! You're crazy!" yelled Ichigo. If possible, Tatsuki swelled like a saber tooth tiger.

"What have you done to her last night, you punk!" hollered the mad woman.

Ichigo went red, comprehension dawning. "What the fuck… Oi, Tatsuki, what the hell have you been thinking! I— I didn't—"

"Tatsuke-chan, please, stop… It's embarrassing… Kurosaki-kun," the pretty healer turned to Ichigo who remained scowling heavily. "I'm so sorry—"

"Don't apologize. It's Tatsuki's mind in the gutter— ow! You and your violence!" He shouted as Tatsuki's fist hit his chin.

"Ah, Tatsuki-chan, Kurosaki-kun didn't do anything wrong! Don't hurt him or the little blue men will take the mushrooms away and my spaceship will fly away!"

"…are you saying something, Orihime?" asked Tatsuki who had Ichigo in a headlock.

"Let go… you violent woman…" Ichigo growled breathlessly. Orihime sweat-dropped. Tatsuki unceremoniously released her tight hold around Ichigo. The orange-haired kept swearing under his breath, a hand on his neck.

"Oh, Kurosaki-kun, I'm sorry!"

"It's okay, Hime. That crazy woman should be the one to apologize! I was glad Rukia wasn't here anymore but you," he glared at Tatsuki who scowled back, daring him. "you took her goddamned place! What the hell is your problem! You almost killed me!"

Tatsuki sneered. "As if a simple headlock will kill you," she dropped her tone, still sneering, "shinigami."

Ichigo just gritted his teeth, rubbing his neck.

"Kurosaki-kun…"

Her small voice made him glanced down at her. She was looking up at him. "You…" She swallowed delicately, "…finished my… homework last night, didn't you?"

Tatsuki raised her brow. Instantly, color flooded Ichigo's cheeks. He averted his gaze and scratched the back of his head.

"Didn't you, Ichigo-kun?"

The first name calling startled him as he looked down at her. "Er,"

Orihime smiled softly, her eyes in half-moon crescents as her smile widened. Tatsuki smirked, thoroughly enjoying the sight of embarrassed and uncomfortable punk.

Suck up. She thought with a knowing grin as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Thank you so much."

If possible, Ichigo went redder; a goofy small grin was on his face. And for a moment, Tatsuki saw a glimpse of the small, crybaby, orange-haired adorable boy who always cried when she beat the shit out of him, but later broke into a wide, charming goofy grin at the sight of his beautiful mother.

Softly, Tatsuki snorted as she turned away and walked back to her desk.

…

…

5

Hmm, I will live for five lifetimes. But… but… how will I get to see and meet you? Ah! I should not worry! Why? Because all I have to do is… to smell you and I'll know where to find you.

…

And then, it happened.

She was laughing like a child at her own joke when it happened. He had smiled— a little, only a little… that goofy smile of his adorable childhood— and tried to laugh as well when it happened.

Her reiatsu disappeared.

It didn't fade slowly, it didn't wave nor flicker. It totally disappeared. Like 'poof!' disappeared, leaving no trace.

Ichigo felt numb all over his body, freezing him on the spot. Wide eyed in cold terror, brows still furrowed, he whipped his head around, shouting her name as his body turned.

"Orihime!"

…

.

.

.

title. he watches, he listens, he feels, he grasps
summary. it wasn't a love story, but it is a story.
prompt. one april morning
note. wow. a re-write, sort of.
disclaimer. disclaimed.