Summary: I've spent years thinking about him, so many that I've forgotten how long. He left me nothing but many sleepless nights and a hole where my heart should be. Ikuto, come back... "Amu." That voice... "Ikuto...sensei?"

IMPORTANT, YOU MUST READ BEFORE CONTINUING! Or you'll die:3:

So, before I get asked where in the story this takes place, I'll just tell you now. It's not in the storyline. This is afterwards, obviously. Amu was thirteen when Ikuto left, right? (Please, correct me if I'm wrong). Well, if that's true, then it's been five years since then, just to make it leagal for them to be together and be able to.. uh... yeah. This might turn into a lemon ;)) Amu is 18, Ikuto is 23.

Okay, so this is pretty depressing in the beginning. But don't worry or click that back button to pick a different fanfic, because it will get much happier when Ikuto comes in. Ikuto will appear probably in the next chapter, or the one after. You guys decide, although I'm sure all would rather that he come in next chapter, or even this one. This one will hint at his arrival, however. Just so you know, Ikuto will be a little OOC when he...does his job, I guess you could say. PLEASE IGNORE HOW BAD THE FIRST CHAPTER MAY BE. IT WILL GET BETTER, I CAN PROMISE YOU!

I have no rights over the amazing manga/anime, Shugo Chara.

Enjoy!

Normal POV

"Onee-chan!" a sweet, small voice called to the pinkette from behind her bedroom door, sympathy leaking into her voice. "Onee-chan, can I come in?"

Shuffling loudly to her door, she opened it, wiping away tears as she did. There stood Ami, around the age of ten, along with her new-born guardian characters, Melody and Harmony. Amu didn't have Ran, Miki, Su, or Dia any longer. Dia had disappeared along with the radience in Amu's heart when Ikuto left. The others are now apart of who she is today, even though the new her is cold, distant, and quiet. (Sorry, I realize this paragraph sucks. I just...can't figure out how to change it, I guess. I want to put in information about her Chara's, so I did!)

"Ami, what is it?" she asked tiredly, beginning to walk back to her bed.

Ami followed, sitting beside her. "Onee-chan...Ikuto-chan will come back. I can tell!" Ami spoke from beside her. "I just know it! Then, onee-chan can be happy again!"

Amu chuckled humorlessly. "You sure are filled with optimism aren't you? I don't think he's coming back, Ami. He promised he would and I've waited this long, but nothing. No letter, no calls, no nothing." She sighed. "Ami, it's the same thing every night. I cry, telling myself he'll come back tomorrow, or mabye the next day. But I can't take it anymore!" she yelled, her voice gradually getting louder with each sentence. "He's never coming back! He's completely forgotten about Utau, Tadase-kun, and me! Do you know what it's like?" She sighed exhaustedly. "Just get out, Ami."

Ami walked to the door, her face frozen in shock.

Amu could feel the hole in her chest widening, welcoming anyone to pull her heart out, slowly and painfully. It hurt, but she welcomed the pain, griping at her shirt over her heart tightly as her sobs began to soften.

After her crying had turned to small tears and sniffles, she stood and picked up her violin and bow, letting her tears drop on the surface. Pulling the bow across the strings, she began to play.

Amu had begun teaching herself how to play violin after Ikuto had left, believing it would mend few ripped seams over her heart. Her playing was dull and sour compared to Ikuto's, but it was still beautiful all the same.

The sad tune made Amu fall into a trance, her mind filled with memories of Ikuto, the bow still sliding expertly across the strings. Music filled the room and embraced Amu's heart in a tight grasp as an imaginary bow slid across her heartstrings, the song temporarily filling the void in her chest.

This was as close to bliss as she is going to get.

A man walked along the cold streets of Seyio, some things he saw triggering memories in the depths of his mind. However, his main thoughts consisted of the pink haired girl that he longed to see again. He remembered where her house was, of course, but he wasn't going there. Of course not. He wanted to remain a surprise. Hopefully a good one.

Ikuto smirked, thinking of how his pink haired beauty will react to his sudden appearance on Monday. It was hard to imagine because he hadn't seen her in so long. How different does she look? What's her personality like? Did she still have that fiery side to her that he loved oh, so much?

He sighed. It saddened him that he didn't know much of Amu anymore, but he was determined to get her back in his arms.

Kicking a few leaves in his path, he stopped and looked up at the tall building, fimiliarity enclosing his mind. This was Amu's house. This was the place that his feet led him as he thought. "Amu," he muttered to himself subconsiously. He stepped a bit closer, about ready to climb to her balcony when a sad, beautiful melody reached his ears. He recognized the instrument in seconds: violin. It was the same instrument he played, as well as his father, whom he hadn't found quite yet. It's not that he was giving up. No, of course not. He had a plan.

Finally getting the courage to jump to her balcony, he did so, landing as gracefully as a cat.

Quickly, Ikuto stepped toward the glass door covered by curtains, his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He was going to see Amu again. He nearly shook from excitement as his hand raised to knock at the glass. Bringing his knuckle back, he froze. What if Amu didn't live there anymore? He would be knocking at a stranger's window, and probably have the cops called on him.

An idea surfacing from his clouded thoughts of Amu, he jumped back down and walked to the front door, knocking gently with a small smile etched onto his flawless face.

He can see Amu again.

The End!

Sorry it's so short. I promise they'll get longer!

Review please, and tell me how you like it! If I don't get around 5 reviews, I'll quit. Promise x3 - That's supposed to mean cross my heart. (:

Review! I promise it'll get better.

CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISM IS WELCOMED!