So I managed to get my computer to cooperate just long enough to fix MOST of the mistakes. Again, terribly sorry about that. This chapter was released twice in the favor of having something you can actually read and comprehend. Again, a big thank-you to all those who review, favorite, etc.

I'd like to make a request, if I may. While I enjoy your reviews, they aren't so much reviews as they are comments. I'd really appreciate it if you would give me your opinions on this or that, tell me what you like, what you don't, what I can improve on, and that sort of thing. It means a lot to me as a writer to know that you took the time to sit down and tell me exactly what you thought about the chapter. So, if you have the time and patience, I think you for your critical reviews/critiques.

I couldn't fight the urge to pull my skirt closer to my knees. Again. Miya had suggested I try something casual yet professional and Asa wanted me to look flirty. I didn't think they wanted to interview me because I was a flirter -quite the opposite, I think they liked my professionalism- but I couldn't go against my parents wishes. Especially after I ditched them.

Well, ditched is a harsh word. I had been complaining to Ikuto that I couldn't decide which one to invite when he suggested himself. At first I laughed, which I immediately noticed really upset him.
"Ikuto... did you want to come?" I had asked in utter shock. His cheeks were flushed with red and he tried to turn away from me.

"It might be fun if I did. With your moms it would be a field-trip, but with me it could be an adventure." He had worded it so perfectly that I almost wanted to tackle him.

"But they would be upset if I didn't bring either of them!" I reasoned, at the time seriously considering his offer.

"They should let you grow up a bit. I m 16, I can drive. I can be responsible. It should be me." Now Ikuto is a very deep person, and I learned this very quickly after we became friends, but it was still difficult to tell what he meant. At that moment, however, I could clearly read between the lines. I want to go with you more than anything.

I laid my head against his shoulder in the tiny car. We were so close together that I could have napped on his lap. My long-sleeved sweater was getting uncomfortable but I couldn't take it off. Not around Ikuto.

"Hey, Ikuto?" I began as I twirled his shiny blue hair between my fingers.

"Hm?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I swear, his heart stopped for a minute. His breathing did too. He tensed and then forced himself to loosen.

"That sounds like something you should know. How long have we been friends?" Was he changing the subject or genuinely asking?

"I don t know... three months? What I do know is that you don t talk about your personal life very much. And we don't really see each other at school too often. So, what's the answer? Do you have a girlfriend?" His grip on the wheel was suddenly much tighter.

"What's it to you?" Is he really so reluctant to tell me?

"You'd be curious if I had a boyfriend and wouldn't tell you..." I mumbled, afraid I was making him upset. He would always get tense when I asked about his family or personal life. Frankly, it caused me to be terrified of asking, but this was something I really wanted to know. Suddenly his hand reached out and found itself on mine.

"Yeah, I see your point." Silence. His hand on mine. My heart beating louder than I thought it possibly could. We had held hands dozens of times before, but right now, there was something besides a consoling touch in his motives. Before I could stop him his fingers brushed against something on my wrist and he jerked his hand away. Within minutes he pulled the car into a gas station, turned the car off, and forcibly grabbed my hand.

Against my protests he yanked my sleeve up and stared at my arm. For a moment I saw a relief in his eyes, followed by a new kind of sadness.

"I thought you might be cutting yourself..." I couldn't think of an answer so I stayed silent. "Care to explain?" I shook my head no, keeping my silence. "You know I can make you talk." Fear flooded into my eyes -that I tried futilely to disguise- and then he did it. The unthinkable. He kissed me.
It wasn't a romantic kiss, really. Just his lips on mine. No real kissing going on. So I definitely won't qualify it as my first kiss. Even though it wasn't a real kiss my head was spinning just the same. He smirked at me and turned the car back on.

"So you can pick. Tell me or more little surprises like that will come along until we are in Osaka." I shuddered a bit, seeing as Osaka was still a good three hours away.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you! Just please don t do that again!" I pleaded, my head still swimming. He fake-frowned.

"Am I that bad of a kisser?" He teased. I rolled my eyes.

"Kiss me for real one day and I'll tell you." I know he said something after that comment, but he was so quiet that I couldn't even begin to make it out. "Anyways, it was just some girls. They called me some cruel names, I told them they could shove their insults up their- well I got a little emotional and they attacked me. The principal intervened and I think they are getting detention." He nodded, not really giving any answer. Just acknowledging what happened. After just kissing me to get me to talk, this sort of struck me as under-reacting.

"So they scratched your arms?" Now I decided it was okay to take off my sweater and show him the full extent of the damage. Nothing major, of course. Scratches on my chest, a few on my neck, and one really ugly one going down my back.

"My head is kinda sore, too. From them pulling my hair. There were six of them and they just attacked me." He looked so doleful upon learning this that I thought he may start crying.

"That's it. I m just gonna have to escort you to all of your classes," He sighed, putting his hand back onto mine as he pulled onto the interstate.

"We both know you can t. And besides-" I froze, unable to speak anymore. My mind had been wandering away from what I was about to say. I was actually thinking about how long it took to get to Osaka and how long it would take to drive back. He waited patiently for me to speak again.

"We'll need to get a hotel," I said, shock clear in my voice. His eyes widened and in a few moments he reached this conclusion as well.

"If your moms had realized this they definitely wouldn't have let me take you!" He laughed, squeezing my hand.

"Yeah," I agreed as I rummaged through my purse. "They said the credit-card was for meals and emergencies. I think going to a hotel will allow two kids to avoid driving eight hours in the middle of the night, or, in others words, a potential emergency." He grinned at me and pressed down on the gas-pedal hard, thrusting us forward on the highway.

OoOoOoOo

When we pulled into the parking lot, I had to catch my breath. The museum was absolutely striking.

The museum focuses on Japanese and contemporary art, with exhibitions from the museum collection and special exhibitions. The museum s current building was designed to represent the growth and shape of a bamboo plant. Ikuto read from the pamphlet they gave us at the admissions counter. I nodded my head, both acknowledging his words and agreeing that the building was indeed shaped like bamboo. A kind-faced woman lead us into a room off to the side that was labeled Private. She asked us to sit down and then said someone would be in soon. After a half hour a tall man with a thick German accent came in. Although his accent was foreign, he was in every other way Japanese.

"Hello, miss Hinamori. I am Kim Yun, the Internship Director. I trust you re ready for the most incredible tour of your life?" He was most certainly right. Never before had I learned so much about art. But I didn't just learn. I experienced art. I became art. Each piece spoke to me in its own way with its own voice, and I was determined to create a friend for it. A piece equal in splendor. I was inspired. Ikuto, on the other hand, was not impressed.

"It's a stick figure surrounded by a real painting," He groaned. In fact, he groaned whenever he saw a painting he didn't understand. I tried to be patient with him but sometimes me and Yun just couldn't hold it in.

"I tried to tell you, Ikuto! It represents how the artist feels. He feels plain and boring, like he s nothing special. And he s surrounded by a whole world of intense talent and passion, while he sits in the center being worthless. He's a tortured soul and you re disrespecting his art!" Yun smiled at me.

"Very good, miss Hinamori. Reword that a bit and you d make a good tour-guide."

"Yeah well I still think it's just a stick figure..." he muttered, but I decided to ignore that comment. We finished up the museum tour in another hour or so and made our way to the cafeteria. It was packed, bustling with people. Echoing chatter attacked my ears and I strained to tune it out. Yun was shouting something at me but I couldn't hear him. Ikuto tried to tell me but I couldn't hear him either.

My eyes were focused on a little girl in a school uniform about fifty feet away. I don't know why I focused on her; she was one girl in a group of many. But there was something about her that was familiar. Maybe the tired, depressed look in her eyes reminded me of myself. Like we had gone through similar problems. Maybe it was just her eyes in general, which were the exact same shade of yellow as mine. For some reason I found myself walking towards her, wishing for her to look over at me, smile, and say my name.

"Amu, where are you going?" Ikuto shouted as he grabbed my wrist. When I looked up again, she had disappeared from the crowd. A sense of mourning overtook me, but I quickly disguised it.

"Nowhere, nowhere. Let's eat!"