Summers were Mary's favorite. She had lived alone for a hundred years, give or take, but now the days stretched on during the week, and she looked forward to the weekend, just like any regular child would. She looked forward to weekends not because she herself went to school, but as Seto had regretfully explained to her, a four hour round trip was too long for him to make if he wanted to get home before dark. Even then, that wouldn't be factoring in any time for them to play or read together at all.

It made sense, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

But in the summer days were long and if he left early in the morning they had hours to themselves. They'd learned early on that most games were no good with only two kids. He'd tried to teach some of the animals simple things like hide and go seek or tag, but it wasn't fair when some of them could fly and they kept forgetting the rules anyway.

More often than not, when they played, they played pretend. Mary adored fairy tales, and they pored over her books for hours, choosing which one to play that day. Sometimes she was the princess and he was the farmer's youngest son of three. Sometimes he was the prince and she was the beautiful peasant girl. Some days she let him be the princess too. He didn't have much heart for slaying dragons or other beasts, even if they were imaginary.

Today, she leaned her elbows on the windowsill, waiting for the tell-tale noises of birds as he made his way up the path. They began chirping loudly, and she rushed to the door. Seto was just barely visible through the trees as he ducked under a branch, weaving his way with practice through the trees. He stopped to wave as soon as he saw her, and she waved back wildly, before dashing out to meet him at the edge of the clearing.

"Good morning," he said with a laugh as she hugged him quickly. He was getting closer to her height, which was strange, since she was used to tucking him under her chin and treating him like a little brother.

"What do you wanna play?" she replied, eager. She'd read a book he'd brought her the other day about pirates, and she was having all sorts of ideas.

He chuckled, and shifted the bag on his shoulder. "Ahh, actually I have to get a start on my summer homework. I thought I might as well do it here, without Kano trying to copy off me all day…"

Her face fell, but she nodded. At least he'd come to see her. "We can talk while I work!" he added quickly, and she smiled.

They went indoors and Seto pulled out a notebook and some pencils. The notebook paper was filled with large childish writing, uneven and sloppy. She didn't have a lot to compare it too, but she was fairly sure his handwriting was atrocious. He lay the supplies on the table, and she went to go get some paper and pencils of her own. She might as well draw while he worked.

"At least I don't have to do summer classes," he was saying meanwhile, "Ayano's at the school almost every day getting extra help with the subjects she failed."

With the glowing way he spoke of the older girl, Mary was always surprised to hear of her shortcomings. But it seemed like Seto didn't see her academic failure as much of a flaw anyway. Maybe it was due to him often having trouble with school himself.

At the moment, at least, he was squinting at the paper, pressing the end of the pencil into his cheek. "Ehh, middle school work is so much harder…" he mumbled.

He was in middle school now? Mary frowned. When they'd met he'd been a child, maybe six or seven, so that made it…she began to count on her fingers, but stopped when the high number began to upset her. Had that many years really flown by already? She hadn't even noticed.

Seto was focused on his homework, but still somehow managed to make conversation with her. She asked about his family, and he began to recount some humorous incident that had taken place that day over the breakfast table.

She gave up on drawing for awhile to listen, propping her cheek on her hand with a smile. He would scrawl a few answers, then begin talking with his hands as he told his story, then remember he was doing homework and write down a few more lines. The cycle was almost funnier then the story he was telling. Something odd was happening with his voice too, and she wondered if he was getting a cold. Occasionally it'd crack strangely, like he couldn't control the pitch. Every time he'd stop and clear his throat, turning pink. She hoped he didn't get sick, since then their summer days would be wasted.

They stopped for lunch, and afterwards she was able to convince him to put the homework away and play with her.

"I'm a princess," she said, setting up the situation. "I'm being kept in a castle in the woods, with big thorns and everything. You get to be the hero and come save me, okay?"

He nodded. It was pretty standard. "Are you sleeping beauty?" The hallmarks of the tale were familiar to him, and he wanted to be sure.

She shook her head, determined to be different. "No way! I've, um, been turned into a monster. A big scary one."

"I'm not fighting you," he said, worried. She wondered if he was scared of the monster image he was conjuring in his head.

"Of course not! You can save me by, hm, telling me you'll always be my friend. Forever."

The words rang in the air, sounding a little ominous, but she tried to ignore it, and he didn't seem to notice it all because he was nodding, accepting her terms.

"My house is the castle," she told him, jumping up to go barricade herself inside, and he grinned, retreating to the forest so his arrival would be more realistic.

They played until it got dark, stretching out the game by Mary locking him outside and then hiding when he managed to scramble in one of the windows. By the time evening came they were lying on their backs in the main room, laughing, his sword— played by a branch he'd found on the way— discarded next to them. The ominous feeling still hadn't gone away, however, and it loomed over Mary's heart. She tried to push it away, recognizing it as a familiar sensation she got at times in the middle of summer. A handful of times it had happened now, but it was always gone the next day, so she was just going to ignore it.

"I should get going," Seto said finally, sitting up. She knew he should have left hours ago; it would be fully dark by the time he got home, and he'd probably get in trouble for being out so late.

She hugged him before he left, and he looked pink and embarrassed again as he waved goodbye. She waved back, and watched him disappear between the trees.

The next day, he didn't come to see her.

She waited all morning, and eventually had to admit that he wasn't coming. Maybe he was grounded for staying out so late, she thought. It was likely, so she gave up on waiting at the window and began to sort through the books on her shelves, trying to find something new-ish to read. A volume of greek mythology in hand, one she usually avoided, she retreated to her favorite chair to read.

He didn't come the next day either.

Mary rationalized that he could be grounded for two days or more, and set to cleaning, sweeping the entire inside of her house and then scrubbing the floor, for good measure. By the time she finished she was sweating and tired, the floor was sparkling, and it was only noon. She went back to her book.

By the time a week had passed she'd re-read all of her favorite stories, repainted the front door, sorted through her mother's old things to see if there were more dresses she could alter, repaired a rip in the blanket on her bed, and weeded her garden. She wondered what she'd done with herself in the days before he'd found her. She couldn't seem to remember.

As time stretched on, the days seemed to flow into each other, and before she knew it summer was over. Mary had to face the facts; Seto had forgotten about her. She'd known it would happen when he grew up, but she'd been hoping for a few more years at least. She wondered what had been the tipping point. Had middle school made him ashamed of his childish manner? She hoped the bullying hadn't started up again.

Finally, as the leaves turned from bright green to a dark red color and began to fall, she decided that she had to forget her old playmate. She was wasting time wondering what he was doing now, in school or with his siblings, or whether he'd made new friends. Puffing up her cheeks in determination, Mary gathered their old drawings and the books he'd lent her, put them in a box, and stashed it under the bed.

It seemed to work, because as fall wore on she dwelt on him less and less. The leaves all fell and the birds flew south, for which Mary was thankful. She'd often found herself listening to a bird's song and wondering what it meant, before shaking the thoughts from her head. Now the silence in the trees comforted her, though she still felt alone.

It was with open arms that she welcomed winter and the half-asleep state she entered as it grew colder. Mary had stored vegetables and dried meat all summer for this, and she moved her stash to her room, and piled every blanket in the house on her bed. Then she settled herself in and began to dream.

It wasn't hibernation, of course. She wasn't asleep, just sluggish and tired and barely moving to save energy. A fog fell over her, and she found herself lost in daydreams of actual princesses and heroes, pirates and magicians. Not one had a familiar face. Not one had a loud boys' laugh or a silly grin that twisted her stomach. If they did, she banished that daydream right away and focused on the others instead. After awhile, those sorts of dreams stopped showing up at all.

She'd always spent winter alone, of course. With her in this sleepy state, the weather so cold, and the days so short, there was no point in him coming to visit her. So she almost was able to fool herself into thinking that nothing had changed, until spring came again and she remembered.

As the world warmed around her, Mary stretched, yawning, and clambered out of bed. The house was always in disrepair after a long winter, and she began to put it to rights, fixing small holes in the roof and clearing debris from the garden. It was while she was working in the garden that she heard it; a man's voice in the forest.

She froze.

Mary hadn't seen a grown man since her father, who had died when she was almost too young to remember him, but there was no mistaking the deep voice that was calling from the trees. Maybe he was lost. He wouldn't come here on purpose, right?

As Mary looked around for a hiding place, a sense of horror grew in her stomach. What if Seto had told adults about her? What if they were coming to take her away? She wanted to trust him, but he'd betrayed her trust once already by abandoning her.

"Mary!"

The voice called her by name, and Mary fled to her house, locking the door behind her. She pressed her back against the door, her heart pounding. He knew her by name, which meant there was no doubt about it. Seto had given her away.

"Mary?"

What else had Seto told them about her? If they weren't prepared for her eye power she could freeze them, and escape that way, though she'd never be able to come back here…

Her name was called again, and Mary paused. Speaking of Seto, there was something familiar about the lilt of her name, the way it was said…trying to calm her breathing, she peeked through the window.

A figure stood in front of the house, shielding his eyes and looking up at it almost nostalgically. He was taller than she remembered him, much taller, and dressed differently, but the messy hair and features of his face were the same. She threw the door open, and his face lit up.

"There you are!"

He looked so happy to see her, his big grin the same as ever, now too childish for his grown-up face. Mary felt anger and relief warring inside her.

"Where were you?" she asked finally, clinging to the edge of the door. It was supposed to be a demand, but it came out pleading, begging for an explanation she could accept.

"Ah, it has been awhile, hasn't it…" His smile drooped, but she didn't feel guilty at all. He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, unsure how to explain, and she took the moment to take in his changed appearance. He was maybe half a foot taller than he'd been when she'd last seen him, and his shoulders were broader too. Perhaps because of this, his clothing had changed completely; instead of a shirt and shorts that wouldn't get messed up by the hike here, he wore some coverall thing the same color as the new leaves. She decided right away that she hated it.

Instead of an explanation, however, he just ducked his head. "I'm sorry," he said, adding quietly, "I missed you."

She had been afraid that he'd grown bored of her, that real life had become more interesting than a secret friendship with a monster in the forest, and his admission took her by surprise. Before she really knew what she was doing, she closed the distance between them in three steps. Hugging him was different, too; her face ended up pressed into his chest and when he hugged her back she felt surrounded by warmth.

"I didn't think you were coming back," she confessed into his chest, before adding quickly, "I'm still mad at you."

Seto laughed, though there was a sad edge to the noise that she didn't know the meaning of yet. "I don't blame you," he replied.

Later, Mary demanded an explanation from him again as they sat across the table from each other. She set down two mugs of tea before questioning him. "Did school get in the way?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"I dropped out," he told her, turning the mug in his hands.

Mary clicked her tongue, like an ashamed mother, and he raised his head to look at her.

"Just, things got difficult around the house, and Dad kinda lost it, so I wanted to help out somehow…" he explained that he'd gotten a part time job, and then two, and then the load had gotten to be too much so he'd had to cut something. "And then Kido quit too, and I don't think Kano had shown up once since summer so they kicked him out officially."

She frowned. "Did your father lose his job?" She knew Kenjirou was a teacher, and she also knew he wasn't a very good one. Raising four kids on a teacher's salary was a difficult task on it's own; doing the same on no salary at all seemed impossible.

Seto shook his head, hunching his shoulders again. "It was Ayano. She." He paused and swallowed, and she realized he was holding back tears. "She fell," he managed.

Mary was suddenly reminded of a day when he was younger, when he'd come to her house in tears because Ayaka had died. She remembered holding him close, reading to him like the child he was, and taking him to her mother's grave for the first time.

"Just because we can't see them doesn't mean they're not with us," she'd told him, and he'd clung to her and cried.

She shook away the memory to focus on him now. He seemed to be trying to get the tears back under control, because he stared down at the table, blinking furiously. Her memory of him was so different from the image before her now that she almost believed they were two different people. But then he dashed his hand across his cheek quickly and looked up, flashing her a grin, and she couldn't see any differences at all.

"S-sorry for dumping this on you… I thought had been long enough, that I wouldn't be upset about it anymore."

Mary wanted to put her arms around him, to pull him into her lap and tuck flowers behind his ear, but he was so much bigger than her now and those were no longer options. She reached across the table and put her hand on his. "Don't think that way," she replied. She would rather hear this from him now than have him be absent for another seven months.

He gave her another painful smile, and tried to move on. "Um, anyway, we've got an apartment now, the three of us. There're two rooms, and Kano and I've got one, and Kido has the other…but she said there's room for two, and. Um. If you wanted to come visit sometime—" he let the invitation hang in the air, too nervous to finish it.

"I'd…I'd have to think about it," she replied, uncertain. On the one hand, meeting his friends and staying with him would be wonderful. On the other, she didn't know about venturing into the city. The very idea of it frightened her.

Seto nodded, and turned his hand over so he could hold hers across the table, his large hand dwarfing hers in his palm. Mary felt her cheeks go hot, a feeling that baffled her. "It's an open offer," he promised, and it reassured her.

He squeezed her hand, his voice going quiet again. "I missed you," he repeated.

"I missed you too," she finally admitted, and he smiled.