A/N: This comes as a continuation of the ongoing chronicles of Suicide Girl and her Saboten. Special thanks to MoonlitAtMidnight for her creation of Kurumi and story "Mirror Mirror" which clearly continues to inspire me personally.

And thanks to those who have continued to support all of these side stories involving my main character, Aden McCaffery. Honestly, I never imagined that he would be embraced with such loving arms. I am continually humbled by you guys, and you just continue to rock!

In closing, for those of you who find yourself struggling. Things will get better, and until then, I hope that you 'have a day'.

"I know you're sad, so I won't tell you 'have a good day'. Instead, I advise you to simply 'have a day'. Stay alive, feed yourself well, wear comfortable clothes, and don't give up on yourself just yet. It'll be better soon. Until then, have a day."

-Unknown

"Hey, Mom." I strode into the kitchen, setting down my book bag and dilapidated purse.

"Hey baby girl." She greeted distantly through another room of the house, as happily as she could manage these days.

And the effort it took broke my heart.

Scanning the kitchen with my kaleidoscope gaze, observing the evidence of last night's meal in the sink, I gave a small sigh. It looked like I would have to clean dishes after homework tonight. Again. But...that was okay. Now that it was just Mom and I, I didn't mind so much. It made her smile when I was around to help. All I wanted was to see her smile.

Stepping to the fridge I casually glanced at the contents, taking stalk of what I could eat and what we would need to shop for this weekend.

"What's for dinner?" I asked, though I had already made a guess towards the answer.

Leftovers.

Again.

"Leftovers, hon. Hope you don't mind."

Yep.

Leftovers.

I did my best to hide the disappointment in my voice. But I missed Mom's cooking. Sure...I still fought with how I felt about food in general. But that had more to do with how I felt about myself, really. Not the food, so much. And Mom's cooking always managed to make me feel better. About everything. It was a constant of sorts, and gave me comfort and certainty in an ever increasingly uncertain world.

And right now...I needed a constant.

Only through my first week of the new school year...and I had somehow managed to get myself on Sensei's naughty list. Not that I wanted to be student of the year, teacher's pet, or the class president. But...for once...it would have been nice to not be completely hated by my teacher. Cheeks puffed towards this thought as I let out a sigh, stuffing one of the tupperware containers of leftover teriyaki fried rice into the microwave and closing the door with a little more force than I had intended.

"You okay, honey?" Mom finally entered the kitchen, stirred by my hostility towards the microwave oven.

"Yeah." I murmured lightly, my gaze to the floor and away from her. "I just have a lot on my plate at school." This half truth parted my lips as my kaleidoscope gaze finally met her face. "Is it okay if I eat in my room so I can do homework at the same time?" I asked hopefully as she gave the small bob of her head.

"Of course."

Dinners at the family table had gone by the wayside since Mom and Dad's divorce. Mom had tried to keep this tradition for a while. But with only the two of us, it made meals feel colder than ever.

"Thanks, Mom." I muttered gratefully as I tucked a loose tendril of blue hair away from my face behind my ear as I waited for the microwave to warm my dinner.

The timer went off, alerting me that my meal was now acceptably warm and ready to eat. Gathering the container of food and my bags, I lifted on my toes to give my mom a quick kiss on the cheek before disappearing for the rest of the night.

"Love you, Mom." I murmured lightly as I turned on the balls of my feet to head to my room.

"Love you too, Kurumi." This came tenderly whispered from her lips.

And it almost did something to stave off the constant cold this house had been shrouded in.

...almost...

Moving into my room and closing the door behind me, I realized that my home hadn't been a real home in a long time. A really long time. But instead of crying over it. Or even talking about it with someone. Anyone. I did what I normally did. What I was good at. I ignored it. I ignored this cold feeling, and how much it actually hurt.

A bitter smirk laced my lips as I neglected my book bag and mountain of homework from Sensei in favor of my worn handbag as I retrieved my cigarettes. While I was at it, I might as well ignore school work too. Opening my bedroom window in hopes of hiding the evidence of my bad habit from my mother, I once again dug through my purse to gather my phone and lighter as I set myself up on my bed with my cigarettes and food. Lacing my lips with a smoke as I cupped thin fingers around the end to light it, I gave a slow drag before exhaling the smoke through the screen of my window.

Resting my phone along the sill of my window, the fingertips of my free hand danced along its surface as I clumsily typed out a text message before taking another drag of my cigarette. With another exhale, I hit send, firing off this message into the dark abyss.

Hey Cactus Man. You awake?

It still made me cringe at the way I had actually come by Saboten's number. I had accidentally overslept when I should have left his place while he went to pick up his roommate at the airport, as per our arrangement. After running around the apartment with my head cut off I finally settled on a quick shower and speedy get away. And that was about the time that they had come back. As I had stepped out of the bathroom. In nothing but Saboten's towel.

Saboten was livid.

I was mortified.

But the man's roommate had found the whole thing beyond hysterical.

Needless to say, my cover was officially blown and I somehow ended up leaving with Saboten's number courtesy of his roommate. Just to add the cherry to this oh-so-hilarious situation, because apparently the man had a thing for watching Saboten squirm.

Resting my cigarette vicariously along the windowsill I gathered the container of rice on my bed. Not expecting an immediate response, I went about eating my dinner. Eating. Not tasting. Still debating if I would keep it down or not. And the vibration of my phone through the deafening silence almost made me choke on the rice bits as I began to cough and sputter. Gathering my wits and breath in my lungs, I set down the container in favor of my phone.

Only to sputter once more in an awkward, bewildered snort of a laugh.

No

That was the only response. No punctuation. Nothing else. Just 'no'. And it was almost so convincing that I gave a moments hesitation before realizing that he had needed to be awake to type that out. Biting my lip as I gave a pause of consideration to this, I finally claimed the smoke burning through itself. Taking another hit of nicotine as I mulled over how to make the best of this interaction before fingertips went to work along my phone.

Liar. Of course you're awake. You just sent me that message, dork.

I didn't have to wait long for a response this time.

It's 4:36 in the morning. What do you want?

Taken aback by the length and depth of this response, I glanced at the time on my phone. I hadn't really considered the time difference when I had sent that message. And...I felt a little bad. Only a little, until I realized that he had once again responded to my message. So I fired off another text, answering his question as honestly as I could.

Nothing.

Then why are you texting me?

I smiled at this, taking another drag of my cigarette as I fired off another honest answer.

Because you keep texting back.

You keep bothering me if I don't.

The slight sting of this harsh message made me falter for a moment. Was I really that annoying? I mean...I had sent him a few messages before this. Some funny cat pictures that reminded me of him. But I hadn't realized I was bothering him.

Fine.

I fired off this pithy reply before my fingers went to work on the next message.

I'll stop messaging you if I'm really bothering you that much.

Taking a self satisfied drag of my cigarette, I hoped that this made him hurt. And that he would wallow in the guilt of knowing he had hurt me. Again. In a freaking text message.

The man had mad skill.

But before I could bask in the afterglow of this little coup of mine, my phone vibrated with another message. And then again.

Good

And stop sending me Grumpy Cat memes. It pisses me off.

This. This response. These words. They did something. Twisted inside of me in a way that left me angry. Legitimately angry and hurt. In his own words...this message pissed me off.

So in true, bold fashion, I turned my hurt emotions outward and pushed back. Lashed out via a voiceless message.

I would. But I have my cousin convinced that you look exactly like that cat. And your messages only prove my point.

I pressed the button to send forth this pithy comeback in retaliation towards his hurtful words as I worked on another.

Send a picture of yourself if you feel like proving me wrong. :p

No

This refusal didn't come as a big shock to me. I knew that he would never accept this challenge. Not in a million years. But maybe...just maybe...it would give him pause to think over the consequences of his words and how they hurt.

Okay then, Grumpy Cat.

I sent this with an attached picture of the disgruntled feline with the underlying subtext 'no'.

And then there was silence. For several minutes I waited for another response. A pithy or rude comeback. Anything at all. And still, there was silence. So I finished what was left of my cigarette and now cold fried rice. Without further distraction from Saboten the Cactus Man, I settled myself with the fact that I might actually have to do my homework. But the mere thought was so unappealing to me that I decided to forgo this task for just a bit longer, collecting my dishes and going to the kitchen.

Because it was just my mom and I, there were few dishes to tend to. So it only took me about half an hour to wash and rinse them before setting them in the dish rack to air dry. By the time I was done, it was a little after 6:30 in the evening. And there was still more than enough time to devote to my neglected studies. So, with another hug and kiss goodnight to my mom, I bid farewell and resigned myself to a night of academics.

Barricading myself behind my bedroom door, I dramatically flopped on my bed, hoisting up my book bag. Gathering what I needed to complete my overdo assignments first, I glanced at my phone to take stalk of the time I would devote to this task. I was stunned and more than a little surprised to see that within the 45 minutes or so that I had been away from my phone I had received another message. And as my fingers grazed along the surface of my phone to reveal the contents of this unexpected message, I went from surprised to completely floored.

Because it wasn't a message at all...but a picture.

Saboten sat cross legged on the floor, starring off at something out of the camera's view as he held a coffee cup. He was dressed in a pale, light blue loose long sleeve shirt that casually hung off one of his shoulders...along with artfully shredded blue jeans. And from his profile I could see his many piercings and other rebellious jewelry, as well as the various tattoos that were visible from his attire. That infamous perma-scowl was etched along his pallidly sharp, angular features. Features accented and enhanced by an even sharper and more aggressively rebellious hairstyle. Features that seemed a bit tired and lost in melancholy thoughts.

He looked sad.

Without a second thought to the time, I send a response to this surprising text.

Wow, Saboten... Thanks for the picture. Looking sexy, there.

And before I knew it, there was an immediate response to my complement.

I didn't send that. Gabe stole my phone when I wasn't looking and took that picture. Then he fucking sent it to you.

And I literally had to bite down on my lower lip to keep from laughing at this. Because it was beyond hilarious to me. I couldn't believe that his roommate had been that brave. Or that stupid. And I couldn't even imagine the huge man-tantrum Saboten must have thrown when he found out. Managing to hold myself together and stop the trembling of my stifled laughter, I sent a quick reply hoping not to make him any more angry than he seemed already.

Tell him he has my thanks, and he's a really good photographer. The picture he sent is really nice, Cactus Man. I meant it when I said you look good. But...I have to ask...are you wearing makeup in that picture?

I sent this, crossing my fingers that it wouldn't add further fuel to the man's fire. But I couldn't stifle my natural curiosity, and this was a question that I secretly hoped he might be willing to answer. And to my surprise, the vibration of my phone indicated that he had sent reply.

No

I scrolled back through the messages to take another look at the photo, remaining dubious to the man's claim that he wasn't wearing makeup. Because it really looked like he was.

I just got out of the shower and washed my face.

My lips curled in a small smile to this as I sent him another message.

Look again. I think you missed a spot.

I waited a moment for him to respond, wondering what he was doing at this moment, half way around the world. So far away. But I couldn't help myself, and sent off another question.

So did you actually look at your face?

No. Too tired. I'll do it later.

Were you up all night partying?

I silently snickered at my own hazing, not really expecting a response to this snarky question until my phone went off once more. And the message he had sent caused me to openly laugh as fingers came to lace my lips.

Yes

And I supposed this explained why he looked so exhausted in the picture his roommate had taken. But I still wondered what he had been thinking about in that very moment. What sad thought had shaped that melancholy expression? I wanted to ask him. I really did. But a small whisper in the back of my mind told me to let it go...and allow him to keep that secret for himself.

Who knows. Maybe...just maybe...one day he would tell me.

I'm going to bed now. So stop texting me.

I smiled at this blunt, less than tactful farewell as I sent a response.

Okay. Sleep well, Saboten. Don't let the bed bugs bite.

What did I just say?

And I lent myself over to an undignified snort of laughter at the way he had pointed out my faux pas.

Sorry. Bye.

As I settled myself with the conclusion of this odd conversation I gathered one of my text books into my lap, readying myself to delve into a mathematics assignment that had needed to be completed two days ago. Placing pencil to paper I began my work before I was interrupted by yet another soft vibration of my phone. Glancing at the message, a genuine, warm smile broke along my features as I read this simple message.

Goodnight

Just one word. Only one, simple word. Simple as the message was, though, it held such weigh and significance from the one who had sent it. A simple message, with a simple prayer for something better when we finally woke up.

THE END