I apologize greatly for this.

I guess it comes as no surprise that this happened. It would be weird if I went through college without at least blacking out once.. even though I don't drink that often. And now I definitely remember why. My head feels like it's going to explode at the slightest noise. Even moving my sheets.. the sound is so painful. I really can't handle liquor.

My back aches as I push my tired body up and swing my legs over the edge of my bed. I can barely crack my eyes open without experiencing a wave of nausea. My apartment is freezing and it feels really good against my now uncovered legs. My blankets are still hanging over my back and torso. I really would rather not move, I silently offer my prayers to whatever God exists out there for canceling class. Teachers sent out a mass email last night that all classes would resume on Monday after the snowstorm passed... and that's probably why I ended up going to my friend's party. Considering I almost never go out on Friday nights... I felt like I owed it to myself. And that's probably why I let myself drink when normally I wouldn't. I can't even remember what came over me to be honest.

I finally convince my legs to move after staring into space for a noticeable while. I stand, letting the blankets fall off me, completely exposing me to the cold. A horrid shiver jolts through my system. Why the hell did I decide to sleep in my boxers? I wonder as I trudge into the bathroom and turn on the water in the shower. That would probably clear my head, right? I frown when I see myself in the mirror. My hair was a complete mess and there were dark circles under my eyes. And.. strange red marks all across my upper body.. Why couldn't I remember anything? I run my hands through my hair, trying to look somewhat less unsightly before I leave to get my towel.

I stretch my hands over my head as I walk back to my room and listen as all my joints pop and crack. The extent of how sore I am... it feels like I jumped off the roof of the apartment. I can't shake off the feeling that there should be at least something in my memories retained from last night; something that would probably do me some good remembering.

"Are you gonna use the shower now?"

I freeze. What the hell..? I turn towards my bed and only now realize there's a figure laying on the left side, still half covered by my blankets. I seriously didn't notice... The voice was soft and tentative, maybe even harboring a hint of embarrassment. And when our eyes lock, I'm swimming in a sea of the bluest color I have ever seen. As long as I'm staring through them, I can't seem to take a proper breath. I open my mouth to speak but the words get caught in my throat. And no matter how hard I try to make my legs move, I am frozen in place with sudden realization.

There is a half naked guy in my bed.

"Uh.." is all I manage to voice after a minute, the silence is covered with the sound of the running water in the shower. He did ask me about that, didn't he? I can't really hear anything over the blood pounding in my ears. Oh god, I feel heat rising to my cheeks. Why am I blushing now, no, please no. He's staring right at me with those wide eyes and that blank expression, waiting for me to give him an answer.

"I.. uh.. was gonna wait for the water to heat up but.." my voice is shaking, "you can go ahead if you'd like."

He nods and quickly stands, as if he was anticipating my answer. Or maybe he wasn't going to allow me to say no? The blankets fall off his thin frame, revealing toned stomach muscles and lean legs... and a lot more skin than I was mentally prepared to see.

I take back my earlier statement.

There was a completely naked guy in my bed.

My hand covers my mouth as he walks by, he's completely shameless. If my cheeks weren't red before, they are now. What... did I actually do last night? The red marks all over my skin, how horribly sore I was when I woke up, the alcohol...

Did I actually...

seriously...

sleep with him?!

My mind is suddenly blank and my hands can't stop running over the marks on my skin. The marks leave a warm feeling against my finger tips and hurt slightly when touched. But the pain isn't bad, I strangely enjoy feeling it. That guy's lips were here... probably... and on my neck, and on my chest. He definitely wasn't shy about leaving evidence. My stomach is in knots as my fingers travel from mark to mark. Was this possibly a misunderstanding? Was I jumping to conclusions?

"Hey..."

I jump, his voice startles me, and I turn around quickly to face him.

"Y-Yes?"

"Do you have an extra towel?"

I blink, the question goes right over my head as my eyes decide now is a good time to wander. I carefully look over his skin. It doesn't look like he has any marks like I do. He does look really tired though, he has the same dark circles under his eyes that I have. And his hair was sticking up and out in really amusing ways. I guess he doesn't care though, considering he hasn't fixed it like I did. Another thing I find strange is that he doesn't look cold at all. My skin is covered in goosebumps and I'm questioning why I haven't gotten dressed into something warm yet, but he looks perfectly content with the temperature... and with being naked in front of a stranger. I use every ounce of will power I have to not look down. My eyes shift only to quickly find focus on anything else. Like his beautifully toned arms, or his prominent collar bones, or his long fingers.

"If you're going to stare like that, you might as well join me."

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when his fingers wrap around my arm and pull me towards him. "N-No, I didn't mean to stare! I'm sorry!" The words spill out without any thought to them. He narrows his eyes and looks... kind of annoyed. I begin to wonder if I've said something wrong.

He pushes me against the tiled wall, his arms framing my shoulders. Chills shake me when the cold surface comes into contact with my back, and when his wavering eyes attempt to see through me. He's so close... I feel my breath hitch when I feel just how warm he is. Why is he so warm? There's no way this could be natural.

"Makoto, do you remember anything?" he asks sounding angry. My name though... has never been spoken so eloquently before. He knows my name but I can't for the life of me remember his. I can't remember anything no matter how hard I shut my eyes and concentrate and I've never hated myself more for being a space case. He's still so close. So close that it's making my head spin. Seriously, what's come over me that I can't even keep my thoughts straight in front of a guy.

"I'm sorry," I finally voice, gathering the courage to open my eyes again and return the stare he's giving me. "I must have been really drunk... I can't remember anything."

He doesn't move, he doesn't stop staring, and the bathroom is slowly filling with steam from the now hot water, making it difficult to take a proper breath. I feel incredibly small under his gaze, even though I'm significantly taller than him. His presence alone was enough to make my legs shake. I press my back against the wall even further and shrink as much as I can when he draws closer. My eyes widen when he finally moves his arms from either side of me. His fingers brush along my jawline and come to rest on my cheek. In the most gentle fashion possible, he presses his lips to mine.

I physically feel my heart trying to force its way out of my chest, an incredible burning heat beginning to spill to the rest of my body from there. He tilts his head and his lips move against mine slowly. My eyes close but my hands remain glued to my sides, shaking considerably. I feel his skin starting to press into to mine, our bodies coming closer and closer to each other. It's hot... no, not just hot, it's searing. His hands wind around my back and pull me off the wall. His lips part with mine and I can't breathe. I'm not even sure if I can remain standing. What am I doing? My hands finally move and I slide one hand up his back, over his neck, and stop on the back of his head, letting my fingers get lost in his black hair. I'm not thinking clearly, I'm definitely hung over, or maybe I'm just... going with the moment? I'll think of an excuse later; I tell myself that as I pull him back in and return the kiss. His lips just feel too good against mine, they just fit perfectly, and I can tell that he thinks so too. His hands travel up my naval, stopping over my chest and touching the marks he left me with. He takes my bottom lip between his teeth and bites, pulling back a bit. I groan when I feel his hips press against mine harshly. My other hand is now holding on to his waist in a pathetic desperate attempt to keep him in place. But it definitely doesn't look like he's planning to stop when my eyes slip open and meet his again. There is such intensity in his gaze that I can't help wanting to look away, but at the same time, I could get lost in them so easily without even realizing it. There was something familiar about that stare, I'm sure I could have thought of it if I kept staring, but he was growing impatient and the tiny smirk in his expression was seemingly teasing, like he was begging for me to make a move on my own. I know very well that diving in now would mean being swept up and I would end up sinking fast... and strangely, I couldn't care less.

"Makoto..." his voice is just a whisper against my ear, I'm almost sure I imagined it until his hands are suddenly pushing me back. That teasing expression disappeared just as quickly as it came. His eyes are narrow again, glaring at me rather than gazing, and I feel my stomach twist into knots.

"What?" I only now realize that I've been holding my breath. My hands fall off of his skin and back to my side, like I've crossed some kind of line I shouldn't have. He's angry. When just a moment ago he seemed to be so into it... Wait, what am I saying? I can't figure out why I'm feeling so anxious; is it because I might be rejected in a few seconds? By some stranger whose name I can't even remember...

"Don't waste water."

I blink a few times, confused by his completely out of place statement. He turns without saying another word about the water, or what we were just doing, or the blur that is last night, and gets into my shower, pulling the curtain closed behind him.

"..."

Again, the words that I want to say get lost somewhere along the way from my thoughts to my mouth and I'm left standing there, mouth open but silent. I feel completely out of place in my own home, standing here while someone else showers, and the feeling is so unsettling that I decide to simply turn and walk back into my bedroom, closing the door behind me. My eyes scan the room now that I'm considerably more awake. I notice my clothes and his scattered and mixed on the floor near my bed. I notice his cell phone resting on the window sill, a small light in its corner blinking green. I notice a torn condom wrapper carelessly tossed towards the trash bin, just laying on the floor in the open. I bring a hand up to my forehead, pushing my hair back out of my eyes, still in some state of shock. My back falls against the now closed bathroom door. What the hell just happened?

My kitchen is tiny in comparison to the rest of my apartment. There is barely enough room for more than just me behind the counter, but I guess I never really thought about that before. I've never had someone spend the night, let alone under these circumstances. This was definitely a new chapter of my life. I smile though, thinking about how funny this would look to anybody who knew me from back home. I had a wonderful upbringing, I had a loving family, I kept my grades fairly high which got me into a great college... and here I am standing in my tiny kitchen, cooking breakfast for someone I've apparently just had a one night stand with; a stranger whose name I couldn't remember and... just happened to be a guy. I laugh to myself when the entire scenario repeats itself in my head. What could have led me to this? I shrug, losing my train of thought as I crack three eggs into the frying pan on my stove. Considering I didn't have much else, scrambled eggs was the best I could do. In just a few minutes, they finish cooking and I divide them among two plates. I tap my foot while waiting for the toast to finish too.

I feel a rush of adrenaline when the water shuts off. I continue preparing breakfast as if I hadn't heard the door open. I can hear his bare footsteps against the cold floor and I imagine his actions accordingly. I picked up our clothes before I started breakfast, getting dressed myself and folding his, leaving them on a chair near the bed. When his footsteps suddenly stop, I figure he noticed that they were no longer on the floor. The rustle of fabric could be heard and I unwillingly imagine him dressing. I can imagine him pulling the blue boxers up over his waist where my hands were just a little bit ago. I imagine him pulling his legs through his jeans and covering the skin I was very well focused on before our heated encounter. I imagine him pulling the long sleeved v-neck over his toned frame and how it would rest just a little past the hem line of his jeans, and how his collar bones would still be visible through the top. I take in a shaky breath when I realize exactly what was going through my head.

The sudden whistle of the tea kettle pulls me back into reality. His footprints are growing louder and I hastily move the kettle to a different place on the stove. Pulling two small cups I set out earlier closer to the stove, I pour the boiling water and try my best to look as natural as possible, as if I wasn't just imagining him dressing... or thinking about him in that kind of state. When I turn around, he is taking slow steps through the hallway, staring intently at his phone. I'm pretty sure that he's completely forgotten that he was in my home to begin with or that I existed until he stepped into the kitchen.

"Listen, I have to..." he begins to say, but stops when he sees me lay out two plates at the table. He doesn't move until I finish setting down the toast and the tea onto the table. I look up and offer him a smile, maybe he would stop frowning so much if I showed him some kindness.

"What's this?" he asks coldly. The very opposite of what I was hoping for.

I take a seat at the table, "I made breakfast."

He remains standing, watching curiously as I take a sip of tea. His grip on his cell phone tightens and his eyes dart around the room.

"That plate is for you, you know?" I tease as he eyes me curiously.

"Why?"

I roll my eyes, "Because it's morning, it's like below 0 outside, and I figured you were probably hungry," I continue to eat as if nothing was out of place, "I'm right, aren't I?" Ignoring how much my stomach was turning, I still anticipate a cold answer in return. But... instead, he slips his phone into his pocket. Unfortunately still wearing a frown, he takes a seat at the table across from me and stares at the plate in front of him. I smile when he looks up.

"Sorry that I don't have anything better," I try to laugh, "I don't really have much money left after paying off my books for the semester."

He picks up the tea and takes a small sip, and I notice as his eyes widen a little, probably marveling at the flavor. He looks up again but I answer him before he speaks.

"It's ginger peach, pretty good, right?" I smile. His expression really does tell more than his words do. I find it pretty cute. He gives a slight nod and starts to eat. I'm relieved to say the least, the flavor is rather unique but... I order it special from a local tea shop. I guess I felt like I should at least offer him something more to remember the morning by. Then again, I'm not sure why I care that he remembers at all when I couldn't.

I look up, catching his blue eyes for barely a second before he shifts them down at the table. I feel a pang of guilt. Is this why he was really angry earlier? I didn't think about it this way but... I was being really insensitive, wasn't I? The last thing I can remember from last night is being handed a drink. Everything after that gets really blurry, there's flashes of me stumbling through crowds, flashes of more drinks in my hand, and there's times where I remember being really cold, maybe I was outside even. I can't recall a single face or a single word I might have seen or said, but at some point I had to have met him. I had to have said something to him, I must have done something... if we ended up back here. My thoughts halt at the realization that something had to have been special to him if... he didn't leave in the middle of the night. And suddenly, the impending reminder that he might walk out my door in a few minutes without any hesitation and that would be the end of it... really hurt. He might forget about me as soon as he leaves and... I don't want to be forgotten. I don't want to be just that one night stand or just someone he picked up for the night.

Is that how I made him feel? Like he wasn't worth remembering?

My eyes widen when I see him standing and pushing his chair in. He was finished already?! Then again, we haven't spoken a word since we started eating. I'm panicking as he continues to walk farther away from the table. I don't remember him having a jacket and I'm proven right when he immediately heads for the front door.

"I have to go."

He left half of the breakfast untouched.

"Wait!" I stand quickly and very nearly knock over my tea. He doesn't stop moving and starts to slip his shoes on.

"Hold on!" I yell again, rushing to his side. He finishes tying his shoes and stands, facing me and giving me a cold, closed off glance. His eyes bare into mine, they don't waver when it's obvious that I'm holding back tears. I guess I was always bad at holding back my emotions and in this moment I really wished I wasn't. I don't want to seem so transparent in front of him. How did it come to this?

"Can..." I bite my lip, I can't fathom why it matters, I have no idea what I want to even ask, "Can I call you some time?"

That burning feeling resurfaces and my hands shake visibly when he doesn't give an immediate reply. The silence surrounds us as I wait, adrenaline coursing through me. I flinch when I see him move. His eyes shift to the side and then down, I hear him sigh as he turns and opens my door.

"Try to remember my name before asking something like that."

The words ring loudly in my ears. He closes the door behind him, and just like that, he is gone.

I stay still in the same place for a long time, holding my breath and listening to my heart pounding in my ears, combating the ringing. I know that I can't let it go, because if I do, I'll cry. I'll spill tears over a stranger, and how insensible was that? To shed tears over someone who was barely in my life for a day. If I turn around, it's like he was never even here. Of course... I was being stupid. I willfully force my hands to stop shaking, finally letting out the breath I was holding. This was a mistake. Immediate pain floods my senses and unwarranted tears spill from my eyes. This was completely unwarranted. My chest aches as I reenter the kitchen, taking the half empty plates from the table and placing them in the sink. I do the same with the tea cups, noticing that he at least drank all of the tea. I place them out of sight and out of mind, and head back into my bedroom. His clothes are gone, no longer tossed carelessly on my floor or folded in my chair. His cell phone was in his pocket, not resting on my window sill. His body wasn't covered by my blankets, they were laying vacantly on my bed. Give it a day maybe and I'll forget the rest of it too, like how his lips felt against mine, or how warm his skin was under my fingertips. If I go about my day like none of this happened, maybe I can convince my heart that it didn't matter. This was nothing. This was me getting drunk and being irresponsible, and he was nobody. Just nobody. This was another part of life and tons of people do it, right? It doesn't matter. I repeat that over and over in my head, forcing myself to smile until the burning feeling in my chest lessens a bit. I head into the bathroom and look around, making sure that nothing was out of place, and it wasn't. In fact, I was going to shower before any of this happened. I'll pretend my day is just starting now. I'll continue from where it was unwillingly stopped. My hands turn the water back on, just like they did this morning. I strip off the light t-shirt I ended up putting on before starting breakfast and pull off my gym shorts too. This was fine. I take a deep breath when I feel the steam refilling the room, the warmth feeling good against my chilled skin. I stick my hand under the raining water, making sure it was warm enough to get in. The water hit my skin, and it was slightly too hot, burning me a little but... I don't think I really mind right now. It would be great if I could just take off this layer of skin, littered with reminders of something that didn't matter... right? They would go away eventually... and as soon as they were gone, so would be this half complete memory. I turn towards the mirror to examine just how bad they are, but the steam has already fogged up the mirror.

My heart stops.

Written across my mirror in big, neat letters...

Haruka.