"You're sick. . .again." He added dourly as the door clicked shut.
Mitsuru's shoulders slumped as she sighed in defeat. She pointedly ignored his mocking tone as she gently set down her bag on her desk.
"It's been a long day, that's all." She said wearily as she gracefully shrugged off her overcoat.
He scoffed at her.
"Long day, long week, long month, long year-"
"Why are you here?" Mitsuru asked, sounding wounded.
He moved from the corner of her room and sat down on her bed with his hands firmly in the pockets of his coat.
"You asked me that yesterday."
"Yes, and I seem to recall you evading the question in a similar fashion." Mitsuru continued without looking directly at him as she pulled out her books and planners.
"Slow down, red."
His voice was kind.
Mitsuru shook her head unbelievingly, as she pulled out her notebooks with growing impatience.
"You're not real-"
"That's harsh."
"I'm stressed." She said, more to herself than to him.
"I won't argue with you there."
Mitsuru whipped around, crimson hair soaring and looked him straight in the eye.
"Why are you here."
Shinjiro smiled softly.
"I forgot something."
The snow was flying.
Mitsuru was walking the emptied and snow coated streets with a fever of distraction.
"Awfully cold for a late night stroll, eh red?"
Mitsuru stopped dead in her tracks and looked downcast to her side.
"Did I do something to upset you? Is your presence some vendetta against an injustice I caused you while you were. . .here?" she asked earnestly in a low and discouraged voice.
Shinjiro smiled wryly.
"Your perfection was irritating, but no. I'm not upset at you."
"Then why are you here?"
Shinjiro looked up at the falling snow and noticed with appreciation as it wafted through him while it landed lightly on Mitsuru's tumbling hair.
"I forgot something."
Mitsuru's lips trembled as she smothered a frustrated scream.
Shinjiro seemed to see Mitsuru's silence as an indication of her rage.
The boyish smile fell from his face.
"There was always something I meant to do…something I meant to do for you and…" He started with uncharacteristic eloquence.
Mitsuru shuddered.
"You're not real." She announced to the vacant space before her, effectively shutting Shinjiro out and walking forward.
Shinjiro sighed softly as he watched Mitsuru's red hair disappear into a shroud of white.
The impact had cracked her helmet open like an egg.
Mitsuru vaguely wondered what had happened that had landed her on her back on the pavement with her motorcycle heaven knows where.
The vehicle that had slammed into her had disappeared long ago, leaving her alone and prone on the street. Mitsuru felt something trickle down her forehead as she heard him crouch down next to her.
"Not looking so good, red."
Now it was Mitsuru's turn to smile wryly.
"Shinjiro, don't misunderstand me. . . But I'm growing a bit weary of your little visits." She wheezed out.
Shinjiro laughed openly.
"No offense taken."
All was quiet for a moment before Mitsuru swallowed hard and looked sharply at the apparition before her.
"I wish. . ." Mitsuru trailed off, her eyes became downcast and saddened. Shinjiro brushed a stray lock of red hair from her eyes.
"Well, you're in luck. You crashed at the perfect place. . .you can thank me later."
Mitsuru took his sardonic tone as an indication that Shinjiro was joking.
"Am I going to die, Shinjiro?"
Shinjiro gave her his boyish smile.
"Not today, red."
Mitsuru hadn't registered Shinjiro's words by the time she heard another voice filtering in through her shaky consciousness.
"Mitsuru!? Can you hear me? For the love of God say something-"
Shinjiro's huddled figure was now replaced by Akihiko's form.
Mitsuru looked at him in awe for a moment before she started laughing gently. Akihiko looked at her, perplexed.
"You mind telling me what the hell is so funny about this? If you hadn't been here outside of the gym- God knows what- Jesus, Mitsuru, say something, why are you laughing?!"