Even if this is an edited version of my previous Chapter Two, I'd still like to dedicate it to: CrYsTaLxAnGeL, Siy Rowling, Eternal Crystal Rose, Domini-chan, everyday-snowangel and cagalliyulathha. Thank you again for the support!

Chapter Two: Riku

Soul mates are purely fiction-based beings created for those helplessly desperate in their search for someone to show off.

But it seems as if overnight my sister has become the Queen of the Free World and gotten everyone we know to believe in the existence of soul mates. I honestly cannot understand why anyone would actually listen to her nonsense.

The chances of someone, out of the seven billion people in the world, living for the sole purpose of 'completing' me is ridiculous—that doesn't even begin to describe it.

Why should I waste my time looking for someone who doesn't even exist when every time I would be going out with a different guy to see if we're remotely compatible with each other, a child's dying somewhere in the world from the ignorance of politicians and the women who walk past them on their way to dates with useless, hormone-driven slobs?

Soul mates are just obstacles to a better life for those suffering in, let's say, South Africa—avoidable hindrances, mind you. I'd rather work with natives in Third World countries than go out on another blind date arranged by my ever-hopeful twin sister. Not that that's ever gone my way before.

No one takes me seriously because of my age—not even my own sister it seems. It's infuriating to endure her endless sighs and daydreams of her future with her real-life soul mate. She gets even worse when she smilingly drags me into her room to have me emerging out with a skirt on and my hair pulled up with barrettes.

I may be a pushover but I draw the line with the soul mates thing. I will never lower myself to the likes of the smirking, perverted playboy everyone falls over themselves to be seen by.

All of my friends are convinced that I 'shall never be perfectly happy until I have someone to call my own' and do everything they can imagine to push me into dates with random guys. I am quite proud to say that only some of them succeeded in manhandling my will this way. Though I've, quite impossibly, had the same number of dates with my sister in the past four years…

…I still haven't found him.

Holy shit, I'm worse than that playboy.