Best Mistake I Ever Made

Her feet were freezing, her blanket didn't stretch far enough to cover them. It was ridiculous, really, how cold it was in her apartment.

It didn't help there was no one else…to add their warmth.

The glow of the television cast a blue hue upon all it reached, casting her bedroom into a cool abyss, the corners darker than dark. Numbers flickering on the digital clock were a pale green, and the device surely had to be telling her it was time to sleep. Time to get even a little bit of slumber, before a new time arrived…before the new day arrived.

But just as Kouya feared last night, tomorrow came and the beginning rays of sunlight were glowing on the very horizon. Unless the windows were lying to her, in which case she had no idea what to think.

Drawing her long legs up to her chest, she realized she hadn't yet laid herself down. Sighing silently, she wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them close, squeezing her toes inwards tightly so that they would fit under the blanket.

There was a perfect indent between her kneecaps that was a perfect fit for her chin. It was as though her body had presumed it would spend some time in this position and set out to make it as comfortable for her as possible. With such thoughts like that…she grinned bitterly. Resting her chin in its appropriate place, the dark haired girl inhaled the scent of detergent from her blanket, and exhaled.

Her glasses lay on the nightstand, folded and out of mind. The lenses reflected the blue light of the television, the scrambled screen silent with the red marker of the MUTE command lighting the bottom corner. It was only a red spot on Kouya's glasses.

She was thankful she wasn't wearing her glasses, and lamenting her choice not to put them on at the same time. Scattered over her bed and spilling onto the floor were paper scraps, sheets she'd torn from her sketchbooks. Her fingertips were stained with charcoal, and black smudges littered her otherwise pristine, white bed sheets.

The papers bore wounds of charcoal on their surfaces, all holding a familiar yet in Kouya's eyes disfigured shape. On the other side of the room, opposite her bed and propped next to the wall was one of her easels, the one for regular paper. The figure carved unto the stark white flesh of the paper was one of memory and imagination.

It was awful, it was putrid. It wasn't worthy of being in one piece.

Kouya had angrily begun to tear it from one corner to the other when she'd first realized what the charcoal had been trying to form.

But she'd stopped.

She'd stopped because tears in her eyes blurred her vision, and removing her glasses did so even further. From far away, as far as her bed, with blurry and weak eyesight, the charcoal image morphed.

It was no longer awful or ugly. She didn't hate it. It was lovely and it was real.

It was beautiful, and it was her.

Torn and smudged and blurry, black upon the white, but it was her.

Glancing around her room, Kouya say the papers and books thrown about on the floor, on her desk. Her uniform was messily dropped in several places, none of it could be worn for school later. She'd have to wear her spare…

"I need to clean my room…" she murmured to herself, reaching for one of the papers nearest her feet. Grasping it, hearing the crinkle as her thin fingers gripped it too tightly, purposefully, she stared at it for a moment. Lost.

Looking around, she dropped the paper she held to the floor, a smile tugging on her lips. Falling back, her head hitting her pillow, Kouya laughed quietly, as though she'd be sick to her stomach and it was the funniest thing in the world. Lifting her hand to cover her eyes, she gasped around a sob, and chuckled morosely.

"Why should I bother…?" she asked no one in particular.

No one else lived there. She was alone. Who would see the mess?

"Sure you don't want any, Kouya?" Yamato asked, blue eyes wide and incredulous, as though she could not believe someone else did not want a bite of her jelly roll she'd already enjoyed a bite of.

The pastry oozed with dark red filling and the smell of buttery dough and tart cherry sauce filled Kouya's nose and she sniffed, shaking her head defiantly.

Really, this game was getting old. Every day Yamato seemed to bring some new sort of snack food, claim it was her ultimate favorite, eat half or more, and then offer the remains to Kouya, begging her to try it.

"Hmph, fine by me! Just more for me, then." the blonde chirped indignantly as she took a large bite of the roll.

"Perfect, then." Kouya agreed, nodding, much to Yamato's annoyance.

"Oh, one day I'll find something you like, and then we'll have the same favorite snack!" she exclaimed hopefully.

Though Kouya honestly was growing tired of the game and the way the supposedly fattening sweets smelled (Yamato ate how many and remained so slim?), the older girl was secretly happy for the blonde's efforts.

The blonde leaned over, her shoulder brushing Kouya's gently. Her inquisitive blue eyes peered at the new page in Kouya's sketchbook with genuine interest, though she almost appeared to hold more so this time.

"Oh, pretty," Yamato said, or rather Kouya guessed that's what she said, seeing as how the blonde had spoken with her mouth full of pastry and filling. Thank the heavens she didn't spit any on her sketchbook…

Swallowing, the younger girl smiled at Kouya.

"You don't usually do stuff like this, it's usually just the park," Yamato pointed out.

Glancing at her sketchbook, Kouya gazed at the etching of a tall woman wearing a unique clothing ensemble. Lips twitching, Kouya ducked her head a little shyly.

"I like design…it comes out when I can't really think of anything to draw, or just can't get into drawing what I see…like that tree over there," Kouya said, gesturing to the tree by the pond. Yamato followed, and grimaced, her lips scrunching in a pout.

"Oh, you draw that tree all the time," she moaned, "You should definitely draw more stuff like this." Yamato concluded, a thoughtful look crossing her eyes as she gazed once more at the picture.

"What?" Kouya asked, just a bit self-conscious with her arms ready to tilt her sketchbook out of Yamato's eyesight. The other girl smiled reassuringly.

"Kouya's drawings are beautiful. It's just way more interesting to see something from Kouya's head rather than something even I can see." the blonde explained.

Reaching for the book, Yamato smiled.

"Do you have any more of those kinds of drawings?"

"No!"

Blue eyes stared widely in bewilderment towards Kouya, shocked smile frozen on her lips, but Yamato quickly recovered and smiled apologetically.

"Okay, sorry," she said, looking just a little like the puppy that just got kicked.

Kouya felt her stomach clench, her heart pound, and her sketchbook burn in her tight grip. She couldn't let Yamato see the drawings in here, she couldn't.

"Sorry," the girl murmured, returning to her hasty sketching, cheeks colored red and lips quivering.

She could feel Yamato staring at her, watching her. That blue gaze was like the weight of the world on her shoulders, and Kouya was no Hercules. After what felt like a stifling eternity of quiet, the unsettling quiet that told Kouya all she needed to know of Yamato's mood, the blonde rested her head against Kouya's shoulder, her body inching closer to lean further against her.

Yamato lazily bit the last bite of her jelly roll, getting a smear of the jelly on the corner of her mouth.

"Don't worry about it, Kouya…" the younger girl said, voice light, barest smile on her lips. "Just be my pillow for awhile, 'kay?" she chuckled, nuzzling her face against the soft material of Kouya's cardigan.

"Hey!" Kouya snapped half-heartedly, "You've got jelly on your face, don't wipe it on my clothes, you pig," the bespectacled girl added, though there was no hostility to her words.

Sitting up just a bit, Yamato lifted a pale brow at the other and grinned. Licking her finger, she wiped the jelly off her cheek until Kouya nodded in satisfaction. The blonde girl then meant to lick off the stuff, but an ingenious idea crossed her mind when she glanced up at her companion.

"Ne, Kouya?" Yamato asked innocently, getting her friend's attention easily.

But when the dark haired girl turned her head, Yamato seized the opportunity and smudged the jelly on her finger along Kouya's lips, exclaiming, "Do you like cherry!?" Just seeing the bewildered expression on Kouya's face was enough to send Yamato into a spiral of giggles and she wagged her finger in Kouya's face.

"Lick it off, you don't want to dirty your fingers!" Yamato teased, grinning widely. Kouya stared at her for a moment, but then her hazel green eyes narrowed and a different look than any Yamato had ever seen crossed Kouya's face.

A light pink tongue slipped out to clean the jelly from her lips with a catlike grace, and with that same dark look in her eyes, Kouya leant over and wrapped her lips around Yamato's fingertip. The blonde shivered when she felt Kouya's tongue stroke her skin, and Kouya knew because she felt it. Even just the tip of a finger, and her breath was gone from her lungs.

Kouya pulled away, there wasn't even a tiny –pop- when she pulled her lips away. A stray trace of the dark red ooze was licked from the bottom of her lip, but Kouya did not take her eyes from Yamato's wide blue gaze.

A nervous smile had fallen on those pale lips, and her eyes looked troubled and conflicted. A swirl of emotions brewed in Kouya's chest, but with as much force as she could muster, she ordered herself to remain as calm as she did. Gaze returning to her sketchbook, Kouya spared a short glance at the blonde.

"I don't like being teased."

"I'm sorry," Yamato murmured quietly, her own face flushed as she looked down to her knees.

Neither could bring themselves to look again at the other…until Yamato glanced over and attempted a weak smile that was not missed by Kouya.

The dark haired girl paused in her drawing and turned her head, expression guarded but eyes vulnerable. One can't hide a flush.

Yamato seemed relaxed by Kouya's own uncertainty, and sighed quietly, a nervous laugh creaking past her lips. With a bit of hesitance, Yamato leaned over, pressing against Kouya's shoulder again, the soft fabric of the pale yellow cardigan gentle to the touch.

"I am," the blonde insisted, burying her face in Kouya's shoulder, smelling detergent and air. Kouya had no scent.

"I know," Kouya replied, her own lips a small smile, her expression torn as she set down her pencil and reluctantly raised a hand to gently stroke Yamato's head, her pale hair yielding to Kouya's touch.

It was awkward, different. They didn't know what they were doing, just doing it.

And that was what scared her.

Trees were turning red and gold, the weather grew colder. Rain was more frequent, and Yamato was earning more scratches and bite marks on her hands.

Kouya meant to ask about that, but Yamato would merely purse her lips into a pout and mutter about an ungrateful cat that could drown in the rain for all she cared.

"You shouldn't let strays bite you, they could be diseased," Kouya lectured as she offered a moist wipe to the blonde.

Yamato flashed a grin up at Kouya.

"But you're my stray," the blonde girl said cheerily, giggling when a bemused look fell upon Kouya's face.

"Hardly." She said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "I don't bite you."

At this Yamato smirked and crossed one leg over the other, blue eyes narrowing as a pink tongue darted out to lick her lips.

"What if I want you to?"

Kouya felt she knew Yamato enough that she did not need to feel surprised, but the comment left a sour look on her face. Reaching over, Kouya jabbed Yamato's forehead none too gently, lips pursed and brow raised.

"Ow-ow, hey!" Yamato cried over a fit of laughter, swatting away Kouya's hand. "Meanie, that hurts," the blonde chuckled.

"Can't hurt too much, you're laughing," Kouya pointed out, her frown cracking into a grin.

"Coping mechanism." the blonde reasoned with a shrug.

Kouya shook her head, smile still in place as she settled on the bench. Yamato playfully made to shove her off, but Kouya threw a mock glare that sent the blonde scurrying to the other side of the bench, laughing.

Rather than her sketchbook, Yamato noticed that Kouya pulled out a school notebook that cold and drippy afternoon. Peering over her shoulder to see, the blonde blanched when she saw math problems and equations written formally and neatly across the page.

"Ugh, I hate math," the blonde said, sticking out her tongue and rolling her eyes. Kouya inclined her head as she worked a problem, letting Yamato know she heard and was waiting for her to continue. Kouya had learned that Yamato rarely had so little to say.

"It's just boring and pointless and goes right over my head," she continued, just as promised.

"Money is math, isn't it?" Kouya pointed out neutrally.

Yamato smirked and crossed her arms behind her head.

"Hah, Daddy's money, Daddy's problem," the younger girl mused, "and even when I do have to do it, at least it makes more sense adding and subtracting and sales than those formulas," she said, gesturing venomously towards the notebook.

"You're graduating this year, aren't you? University loves math," Kouya said, a joking lilt in her voice that Yamato knew she liked to hear, rare as it was. She turned her head to smile at Kouya, but her smile faltered when she saw the serious (for Yamato) expression.

Yamato stared up at the cloudy, gray sky, the tumultuous clouds rumbling against one another in the far distance.

"I'm not going to bother with University," Yamato said with a shrug. "Too hard, too many tests, what am I going to do with that?"

Kouya frowned, a look of concern in her eyes that did not go unseen by the blonde.

"Hey, don't get your panties in a twist about me, I'm just a little sad this week, too much rain," Yamato was quick to say, waving her hands and gesturing up to the sky.

As though on cue, a boom of thunder crashed overhead and made the two girls on the bench jump. Staring wide-eyed up at the sky, Yamato blinked when something cold hit her forehead. More pelts of icy cold hit her face, and she finally realized that it was raining when Kouya cursed and jumped to her feet, her notebook back in her schoolbag and her pale hand reaching for Yamato's.

"C'mon," Kouya said urgently, tugging her friend up to her feet and leading her out of the park to the opposite street. An old bus stop stood at the corner, and the two girls darted beneath the shelter of the glass and steel enclosure.

Kouya fumbled with her back, examining it to make sure the rain hadn't damaged the things inside while Yamato could only stare out and watch the rain. It was already coming down so heavily and fast.

"Hey, it's really coming down," the younger girl pointed out obviously, turning to face Kouya, an impish look on her face. "I bet that cat's getting soaked," she mused.

"You're a vicious person," Kouya teased, earning a grin from the blonde.

"I could be worse," Yamato began to say, taking a few steps over to her companion.

But another boom of thunder sounded, and the noise caught Kouya off guard and she slipped back against the wall of the enclosure. Yamato called to her and tried to hurry over, but her own wet shoes slipped on the ground and she fell against the slipping Kouya, the both of them falling against the wall. Kouya hissed in pain and glared at her shoulder while Yamato righted herself against the older girl.

"Ah, I hate storms…" Kouya began to say.

"Kouya," Yamato interrupted, catching the other's attention with the quiet seriousness in her voice.

"Y-Yamato…" Kouya stammered, her green eyes wide when the blonde reached up to run her fingers through Kouya's damp, inky black tresses.

Words were gone, anxiety plagued them, and wide eyes mirrored a narrow blue gaze. Yamato's fingers wrapped a lock of black hair in a coil and she slowly guided her fingers out of it, bringing that same hand up to grasp Kouya's cheek. She pressed up on her tiptoes just slightly to press her lips against Kouya's.

It was a shock of teeth and cold, and after only a moment Kouya pushed Yamato away, her shaking hands making the blonde's shoulder's tremble. There was a look in Kouya's eyes, Yamato didn't recognize it.

"What are you…that's…"

"I was kissing you."

"You can't just do it like that," Kouya stressed, her lips quivering, voice high and distressed.

"Then…let me just try," Yamato said, an apologetic expression crossing her face. With both hands cradling Kouya's, the blonde girl leaned in.

Kouya's shivering made her pause, and trepidation filled Yamato's chest. Their lips were centimeters apart, Yamato could feel each uneven pant, and she was close enough to see the reluctance in Kouya's eyes. But she went forward anyway for skin to meet skin.

The darkened enclosure's glass walls were streaking with rainwater, the dismal sky above rumbled angrily. Rain pelted the earth below and excess was already collecting along the curbs and rushing towards the gutters.

Even if there had been anyone on the street, they wouldn't have been able to make out the figures of anyone at the bus stop.

Kouya was the first to leave, and she ran through the rain in the direction she always went. Yamato, too, left right after, facing her own direction, or some direction, any direction. But she could only stand still and stare, not knowing what to think.

"…I bet…that cat's getting soaked…" Yamato said again, her voice uncertain and unsteady.

The alley was filled with puddles and water splashed her shoes and socks, they were surely in need of drying all day tomorrow.

But Yamato didn't stop turning over garbage cans and old boxes. Her blue eyes were narrowed and she grit her teeth as she searched.

Finally, just when she believed the rain could not get any heavier or thicker, she found him. Underneath a torn and mottled box, the soaked black wretch of a cat cowered. Upon his hiding place being disrupted and then destroyed, he growled hatefully up at Yamato. When the school girl reached for him fearlessly, unaffected when he sunk his razor claws in her hands, he was almost too confused to struggle when she embraced him.

"You're wet, you're soaking wet," Yamato said through heavy tears that tasted of salt, "I'm so sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry," she murmured, burying her face in the cat's wet back.

Showered and warm in her favorite pajamas, Yamato curled up in her bed, the black cat snug in several fluffy towels and nestled in the curve against her stomach.

She'd kept the lights in her room off, her computer was off, her curtains were drawn, and the TV was on a random channel, MUTE floating in the top right corner of the screen. When her mother came to her door, telling her dinner was ready, Yamato ignored her, only curled up further in her warmth.

"Yamato, honey, you okay?" her mother asked from behind the door.

"Yeah Mom, just fine!" Yamato finally called, her lips torn in a smile but her eyes burning. "I'm just not hungry, sorry!" she said just as nonchalantly.

It was a few moments, but the girl heard her mother leave, and she sighed. Closing her eyes, her hand strayed to the bundle of towels, and she swore she heard deep purring from somewhere within.

The next morning, Yamato got a text message on her phone from Kouya.

I have to stay at school for duties. Sorry.

Yamato was relieved that she didn't have to pretend to be peeved. Somehow, maybe waking up with a cat purring in your ear, she'd woken that morning uncaring about yesterday.

It was nothing, a fluke. Curiosity, nothing more. There was no reason Yamato shouldn't be able to see her friend…

But with that message…

The next few days, Yamato found herself growing anxious.

Sure, she spent time with Juri and the others, but…it wasn't the same. The park was always empty.

She'd sent tens of messages to Kouya, and though Kouya replied with a few words, each time her excuse was for school duties. Yamato herself had had them the other day, but they didn't take that long.

The whole situation was frustrating and abominable, and Yamato was getting sick of it. The stupid cat wouldn't leave her apartment, he walked all over her whenever she was around, and she had several new scratches from his claws, and he hadn't even been trying to hurt her those times. With a demonic presence awaiting her at home, and no Kouya to meet her after school, Yamato had come to a sad conclusion.

"I'm going through Kouya withdrawal…" she murmured softly during her last period. Her chin was in her hand and her eyes were gazing lazily at the classroom window, streaked with the still pouring rain. Yamato was really starting to hate the rain…

It wasn't till a few minutes after the fact, though, that the blonde realized that the bell had rung, and class had let out for the day. Looking up, she glanced around dumbly, surprised to see everyone, even their teacher, had left the room. Not a single person had bothered to wake her out of her daze, or at least hadn't tried hard enough.

The rain hadn't really let up all week, and there had been no word from Kouya from that morning's messages. With a sour taste in her mouth, Yamato glared at her desktop. Kouya, Kouya, Kouya…Yamato just wanted to see her already and the bespectacled girl hadn't even called her. In fact, Yamato had always been the one to send the first message, or call only to leave a disappointed message in Kouya's voicemail.

"Stupid Kouya…" the blonde muttered, lips trembling and a strange feeling curling in her chest.

Pulling out her phone, Yamato hesitantly typed out a message to Kouya: Meet me today PLEASE. Sending it, the girl realized a second too late that she already wanted to take it back.

"Oi, Nakano," someone called, pulling her attention away and drawing her blue gaze to the doorway where a boy in a similar dark read uniform stood.

"Hiroki?" Yamato asked, wondering what the other wanted, and then furrowed her brow. He nodded and walked over, blazer open, white shirt beneath loose.

"Class is over." She said, eyeing him. Her statement apparently would not be used to explain her current predicament of remaining at her desk long after the bell.

"Yeah." He replied, grinning as he lifted one brow and placed a hand on her desk. "You going anywhere?" he asked.

Yamato immediately thought of the park, and the empty bench waiting for her. Why would Kouya come today? Not like she had bothered every other time the blonde had asked.

Shaking her head, she smirked and stood from her desk, running her hand up the boy's arm to his shoulder. "What do you have in mind?" she asked, blue eyes narrow.

She already knew, there was no point in asking. The young man grinned.

Hiroki leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to the blonde's lips. "Storage room by the gym?" he asked, moving to kiss her neck, his fingers toying with the collar of her uniform.

"Sounds good…" Yamato agreed, gazing absently over the other's shoulder towards the windows.

The storage room was dark, lit only from the small rectangular windows that lined the walls just by the ceiling. Hiroki and Yamato sat against the back wall, the boy eagerly pressing into a kiss that Yamato participated in with almost as much vigor.

This was normal, right? It was the right thing, right? What she was supposed to be doing…

Yamato breathed deeply when Hiroki broke away to begin kissing her neck, not too hard to leave dark marks, but enough to make a point. The blonde's hands were pressed against his shoulder and tangled in his thick brown hair, but she wasn't getting to the point of their little tryst like she normally might have.

If anything, she was almost distracted.

"Mm…Nakano…" the boy murmured against her throat, his lips a smile. His hand fell from her shoulder to her chest, slipping past the unbuttoned shirt to cup her breast. He moved his hand then down towards her waist and then lap where he tugged the material of her skirt upwards. Yamato split her thighs more and situated her legs around his waist as she leaned forward to kiss his jaw line. She was an old hand at this with him.

Slipping his hand beneath her skirt, his fingers caressed the skin along her inner thigh.

"…Hn…" Yamato hummed, blinking when Hiroki moved his lips down along her throat to her collarbone, and then lower towards her sternum. Leaning her head back against the wall, the blonde gazed up towards one of the storage room's rain-streaked windows. The sound of the falling rain filled the room enough as it was, but watching the separate drops trail down the glass, she immediately remembered that gloomy day in the park with Kouya over a month ago.

"I hate men…"

Kouya's words echoed in the blonde's head, and Yamato flinched, her arms tightening her hold on Hiroki. He took it as she was ready, and he reached behind to pull a condom from his pocket. When his dark eyes glanced at the girl's face, he caught that something was up.

"…Something wrong?" the boy asked, leaning forward to press his lips to her skin, his hands pushing her skirt up around her waist. His voice was concerned.

He was a good guy, he cared about her…just like the others. Their voices held concern, their hands didn't stop.

Yamato never wanted it any other way…at least…

Staring up at the window, the blonde felt her eyes sting. Bunching Hiroki's shirt in her hands, Yamato bit her lip.

It wasn't raining anymore.

It had let up some time ago, enough that the air was becoming a bit foggy already from the cold.

Her movements were practically mechanical, but she didn't need to have half of her own brain to know where her feet were leading her. Soon enough, the familiar streets were giving way to the park.

A heaviness that had built in her chest, dragging downwards painfully, suddenly seemed to evaporate when her eyes caught something. Sure enough, someone was sitting on their bench, an umbrella obscuring their face from the blonde.

It didn't matter, Yamato knew who the white umbrella had to belong to.

Her footsteps must have alerted the other, because Kouya stood from the bench, facing Yamato.

"It took you long enough…" the dark haired girl began to say, but the moment her hazel eyes fell upon the other, her annoyance melted away from her face. In its place a new expression of concern bloomed and Kouya ran to the blonde, casting the umbrella to the ground.

"Yamato!" Kouya exclaimed, her voice high and unfamiliar. Her pale hands hovered alongside the younger girl's cheeks, hesitance in Kouya's eyes as she looked over her friend.

"Oh, Yamato…" Kouya repeated, horror etching itself across her face.

The blonde, as though just remembering, lifted a hand to her face. Her fingertips gingerly sought out her swollen cheek, ghosted over her split lip, and then rose to her forehead where the nurse had placed a large Band-Aid. It was really ridiculous, honestly.

"I wanna sit down," she murmured quietly.

"Yeah, okay," Kouya agreed immediately, her hand taking a grasp of Yamato's and leading her towards the bench.

When she was finally sitting down, Yamato laughed and sighed from relief, scooting close to Kouya who even moved her arm so that she could wrap it around the blonde's shoulders, drawing her closer to the warmth of the cardigan Yamato found herself so interested in lately. Resting her unharmed cheek on Kouya's shoulder, Yamato smiled.

"Thanks for coming, I thought you'd actually be too busy with your school duties…I…I'm glad."

"Yamato…what…what happened?" Kouya whispered.

There was a paused moment of silence between them, and Yamato finally lifted a hand to her running nose.

"I see why you hate guys so much…really…" Yamato said with a bitter grin, a tiny laugh that didn't sound like one at all. "They're greedy…inconsiderate…" Yamato's voice weakened slightly, "Don't understand 'Cut it out' and 'No'…"

The blonde stopped speaking when Kouya suddenly meant to stand, a murderous look on her face. All it took was one tug of Yamato's hand on her cardigan sleeve and she was calmed again, or at least enough.

"Hey, stay like this with me…just for awhile…" the blonde murmured softly. Another weak smile broke her lips. "Or you can treat me, I'm hungry," she added, and she knew it wasn't amusement that made Kouya laugh.

The dark haired girl reached over and brushed her fingers gently through Yamato's hair, a troubled smile on her own lips.

"Wherever you want, I'll stay."

And now my feet are standing

Where they've never stood before

Guided by a twist of fate

A/N: Sorry it's so late, bad things in life, I've been really out of it lately, no time…But here's the new chapter, and I hope you enjoyed. Any questions, as I know some of this was confusing, are welcome and I'll answer them best I can, just remember to review pretty please. You guys are amazing, and I'm glad you like the story. I still recommend the song, of course, and I have Final Fantasy XIII. Let's hope it'll save me from being so angry and sad all the time, I'm really sick of school…

With Love