~ CHAPTER TWO ~

Little Haruka turned the page in her storybook and giggled at the funny little troll waving back at her. Sitting across from the child and fiddling with one of the long braids that fell across a rosy cheek, the elder Haruka could only stare in wonder at the precious gift from God. For the second time that evening, she wondered how it was that Takayuki could be so blessed. She might even have regretted the thought, if, of course, she had not suffered her own fate.

"Haruka?"

She looked up when he said her name, and then forced a small smile. What was she doing here? What could have possibly possessed her into agreeing to such a ridiculous proposal. She had to get out of here. She had to leave now before she reached the point of no return. Yet, despite knowing this, Haruka found that she couldn't force herself out of the booth where she sat.

Takayuki smiled back. It was a handsome smile, kind and generous, but his eyes didn't reveal anything more to her than simple and endearing friendship. This visit, she realized, was not about them at all. It wasn't nearly that complicated. Yet, at the same time, Haruka knew it would not be that easy, either. Too much had happened. Years had passed them by since that day she had faded, quite literally, from the flow of time. Were they even the same people now? They hadn't been the same people six years ago, when Haruka had awoken from that awful coma that in many terrible ways still defined her existence. She didn't suppose six more years had improved matters.

"You haven't touched your udon," he said cheerfully.

She glanced at her bowl. "It's a bit hot yet. I'll let it cool."

He smiled and went back to his ramen. Haruka watched as he ate. The tears threatened but didn't come, though she thought perhaps he would notice anyway. When he looked her way again, she became embarrassed and quickly averted her gaze. He said nothing, only smiled and continued his meal.

Little Haruka giggled again. "He's goofy," she announced, turning the page. "Why doesn't he just ask the fairies to play with him?"

Haruka smiled. "You ask very good questions, sweetie."

"Doesn't she though?" Takayuki asked, sipping his drink. He lay a hand on his daughter's shoulder, smiling down to her. She beamed up at him. "She's real smart. A real fireball, too. She ties me in knots whenever I put any effort into trying to figure her out."

Haruka giggled at the mental image, but then blushed when she saw Takayuki grinning at her. "That's what I've been waiting to see," he said quietly, leaning forward with his chin in his hand as he studied her. "That's the Haruka I remember."

"But I'm not the Haruka you remember!" she protested, and she wanted to get up then and walk away, but something held her back. She didn't have the strength to walk away. But then, perhaps it took more strength simply to remain seated, facing a man she had parted from six years ago. Why was he dragging her back into that pit of despair?

She wanted to scream at him, to tell him that this wasn't fair, that she had left that past behind and built a life for herself, without him. Those days were long gone. He had chosen Mitsuki.

"But you are. And in my heart, you always will be."

"What does that mean?"

"I make no apologies for how I feel about you, Haruka." Takayuki smiled at her shocked expression, and then ate a few bites of his ramen. "To be honest," he said as he set aside the bowl and took on a very serious demeanor, "I didn't come here to buy a book in that particular bookstore out of coincidence. The truth is, I knew you were going to be there. My daughter and I made a special trip from Kyoto, believe it or not."

"From Kyoto? But why?"

"I didn't come here for you," he admitted as he mussed his daughter's hair and then looked back up at Haruka with a pained expression. "I came because of Mitsuki."

Was that… sorrow in his expression? Sadness? He had seemed so joyful a moment ago, and now there were tears building up in the corners of his eyes. Haruka didn't understand. She sat numbly for a time as she waited for him to continue.

Outside, there was a flicker of lightning. Haruka caught the reflection of the light in the moisture in his eyes. She hadn't even realized that rain had begun to fall.

The three of them stared out the window for a time.

"For Mitsuki?" Haruka said softly, prompting him to continue.

He smiled sadly, using a napkin to dry his eyes. "In truth, for all of us. For you, Shinji, Mitsuki. And me too, of course. Shinji's known for some time now, but we never knew exactly how to contact you. Your parents refused to give me your number, probably because you asked them not to. And of course, your number is unlisted. The only way I was able to figure out you'd be here today was through your agent."

"Of course," Haruka whispered, suddenly understanding how he could possibly know where to find her. She studied his expression, and realized that something was horribly wrong. She drew a deep breath. "Okay, I can't do this, Takayuki. I don't want you to beat around the bush any more. Tell me what's going on."

He nodded, glancing to little Haruka as she flipped a page in her book.

"Mitsuki's been in the hospital about two months now," he said quietly. Haruka gasped, leaning forward. "They discovered the cancer over a year ago."

"Oh no…"

"You know Mitsuki… she's a hell of a fighter. And she's fought hard, tooth and nail, since the beginning. She's desperate to live. She clings to life even though the pain is so terrible. She's exhausted, Haruka. What's worse… it's a losing battle. She's dying. The doctors don't think she'll survive the week."

The tears flowed freely now. They came for Haruka as well. It had been a long time since she'd considered this man to be a friend, or Mitsuki and Shinji for that matter. Suddenly the past was meaningless to her. She could only think about that woman, suffering in a hospital bed. It was an existence she knew all too well, but her pain was not the same as Mitsuki's. She felt a pain that was the torment of the heart and soul. Her body had only just been waking up when she realized where she was. Mitsuki's was shutting down, permanently. Haruka couldn't wrap her mind around that dreadful concept, and what it must be like for her friend.

It had been so long since she'd considered Mitsuki a friend, but she did now.

And that was why she had to defend Mitsuki's honor. "What are you doing here?!" she shouted, rising up from her place at the booth, glowering down at him. "You're an idiot, Takayuki! This has nothing to do with me!"

"Haruka!"

"No! Don't do this to me!" She slammed her hand down on the table. "I won't let you do this to me! Mitsuki needs you right now! You should be there, with her, not here, looking for me!"

She turned to run. "Haruka!" She would have ignored him, but she felt his hand snatch hers, and spun around to deliver a slap that echoed through the restaurant. She knew people were watching, and she was bright red with embarrassment, but when she saw the heated expression on Takayuki's face, she knew in that instant that he didn't give a damn about what other people thought.

"You don't think I know this? Dammit, Haruka, I told you already. This isn't about you. It's about Mitsuki. Don't you get it? I need to be at her side now, more than anything. But she needs something far more important."

Haruka's hands went limp at her sides. She stared down at him, numb with shock. She had never seen more conviction in Takayuki's expression.

"I'm here right now because Mitsuki sent me to find you."

"But… but why? Takayuki, there's nothing–"

"Shut up, Haruka," he said. "Just shut up and listen."

She swallowed.

"Do you remember what you thought about back in the hospital? After you woke up from your coma, you were thinking about some pretty heavy stuff. You were thinking about moving forward with your life, and all those petty things that seem trivial to everybody else but mean the world to your heart. Like when you asked me if there was someone else I was seeing. Three years is a long time, just like you said.

"Think of it this way. In Mitsuki's case, she's waiting to die. It's real similar to your situation. Except when she slips into oblivion, there won't be any waking up."

Beside him in the booth, little Haruka had set aside her book. She folded her arms up on the tabletop and sobbed silently into her sleeves.

"She's got those same trivial concerns that you had, Haruka. Except they aren't trivial at all, are they?"

"Takayuki…"

"She just wants to see you, Haruka."

"You're daughter," she whispered.

"Is a strong girl. She understands what's going on."

"But…"

"Do you have regrets?"

Haruka gritted her teeth in despair, and then nodded, unable to speak the truth aloud.

"Me too." Takayuki let her arm go. She didn't run. There was no where to run, because if she did, she thought that her heart would explode with remorse over such a selfish action. He leaned heavily against the table, no longer watching her, giving her the opportunity to flea, if she wanted to. "Then let's mend this bridge while there's still time. Mitsuki's dying. I couldn't begin to fathom what it must be like for her. Please… don't make her last thoughts in this world be those of regret."