Prettyinpinkgal: I was a little bit disappointed that I didn't get any reviews last chapter. But I understand that it's been years since I first posted this story, so people probably aren't really reading it anymore. But I still want to work on "Before She Leapt" in case there's some lurkers out there. Please review to let me know you're reading! It really truly makes my day.

Disclaimer: All proper characters and plots go to their respective creators. "The Girl Who Leapt Through Time" does not belong to me.

BEFORE SHE LEAPT

CHAPTER TWO

Apparently it was.

"Idiot," Makoto said as they sat in Kousuke's father's office. Her voice went high on the last syllable as Dr. Tsuda cleaned her various scratches, a couple of which were still bleeding. Chiaki hadn't seen himself in the mirror yet, but according to Makoto, he looked a thousand times worse. He'd managed to sneak a pill from his time when Makoto was trying to get her bearings, getting up to get his bike for him to get on. The pill was far better than any of the so-called "first aid kits" of this time. The pill helped his concussion and the broken bones in his body, although it was agonizing the first minute while everything popped into place. It was helpful in a situation like this; otherwise he would have to go to the hospital, and he had no records.

"Why am I an idiot?" Chiaki said now, wincing as well when Kousuke wrapped a bandage around his head. "Aw man, that looks so uncool."

"Being a hero isn't your style, I guess," Kousuke said, his face carved with careful calmness. He was like that. He'd worry about things later without consulting anyone. For now, he'd be rational and do what needed to be done, like cleaning his friend's wounds.

I wish the pill worked on more than just broken bones. They need to get on that. I'll have to check in...

Chiaki sighed. He'd forgotten. He couldn't go back for another two years. For once, it seemed a shame.

"Really, Chiaki," Makoto said after thanking the doctor, hands on her hips as she stared him down. "What were you even doing there? I thought you were dead when I got up and saw that mess!"

"I wanted to see if I could race you there."

She seemed to accept this, but a slight confusion still remained in her demeanor.

"Done," Kousuke said, putting the bandages into the cabinet in the corner of the room. "Thanks, Dad."

"Not at all," Dr. Tsuda said, standing and wearing his patient smile, all too similar to his son's. "I'm only grateful it wasn't worse."

Chiaki tensed a little, feeling his old fighting spirit come out. He had only met Dr. Tsuda once before, back when he was just getting to know Kousuke and Makoto. He'd been beaten pretty badly, and he was more or less forced to go to the clinic. He could feel Dr. Tsuda's disapproval for him then. Granted, considering how he had acted, Chiaki doubted any parent would feel very happy if he hung out with one of their kids, but still.

"A train was coming," was all he said, and he knew it sounded curt.

Dr. Tsuda raised a brow, his gaze moving to Makoto. "Really?"

"Yeah. I was zooming. I even lost a shoe in the process when I tried to stop. I was never so freaked out in my life. If I'd hit the railroad crossing..."

As she trailed off, a sobering image came to all of their minds. It was clearer for Chiaki than for the others.

"Then you saved her life," Dr. Tsuda said in a quiet, gruff voice. "Thank you, Mr. Mamiya."

Chiaki felt the heavy looks in all their eyes, and awkwardly stammered, "Yeah, uh, don't worry about it. Call me Chiaki."

"Very well. Shall we all go and upstairs and have some soba?"

A surprising "no" came from Makoto. The Tsuda men stared at her in wonder.

"You don't need to look at me like that," Makoto grumbled. "I'm not a pig. I'm never eating here again."

"Come now, Makoto! What will we do without a woman's hand around the house?" Dr. Tsuda cried, chuckling as Kousuke added, "We can do without it-she breaks everything she touches and she eats all the food she can find!"

"Well, excuse me!" she grumbled, grabbing her bag and wincing slightly.

Before the others moved, Chiaki grabbed her bag and threw it over his shoulder.

She gaped at him. "How are you even able to do that? You were hurt way more than I was."

He smirked. "Manly skills, that's all!"

"Yeah, I'm sure," she scoffed.

"You know," Kousuke said, ending their back-and-forth, "you were acting pretty strange earlier, Chiaki."

"Huh?" Chiaki said. But an awful recollection of his return to this time streamed through his head. C'mon, Kousuke! he cried mentally, hoping he could master the art of telepathy. Drop it, will ya?

Kousuke, though, was an infuriatingly suave son-of-a-gun, so he just said, "Oh, never mind. I'll tell you later, Makoto."

It really sucks that my glares don't work on him. Stop trusting your friends so much, dude, Chiaki thought with a scowl.

"Okay, whatever. I really do have to see my Auntie Witch now. I feel bad her present got all ruined," Makoto said. Turning to Chiaki, she said, "I'll need my stuff back. You don't live anywhere near the art gallery."

"It's cool, I can go. I'll be a gentleman, just for today," he said with a wink.

To his surprise and confusion, she only said goodbye to the Tsudas and walked away with no glancing at Chiaki.

The sounds of the city filled Chiaki's ears, like an old friend. It was evening, and last bits of sunlight were fighting against an engulfing night. Streetlights flickered on, and the sounds of parents calling their children inside and occasional honking could be heard.

He wished he could hear Makoto. Just a sigh, or a grumble, or something. The two times they rode double before, he could at least sense her somehow. Now she didn't touch him, didn't speak, didn't do anything. He was tempted to swing an arm behind him, just to make sure she was still with him.

It bothered him to no end.

"You missed the turn." The sound of her voice sent a wave of stupid relief through him, but the listless tone made him squint in the fading light.

He gently pressed his breaks, being more careful than usual to avoid jarring stops. He'd meant to simply take a loop around and go back to their route, but instead he only turned his head and looked at her.

She was leaning back. He could only see the bags on her lap, her stomach and-er, two things he probably was not supposed to pay attention to. When he didn't move, though, she slowly straightened up. She stared at him levelly, only a hint of agitation in her expression.

"Are we going or do I have to walk?" she said quietly.

"Wanna tell me what's up?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've been ignoring me."

"No I haven't. If I was ignoring you I wouldn't be riding double with you."

"You haven't said anything to me in ages."

She pointedly looked away.

Once again today, Chiaki wished he had telepathy.

And for the first time today, he felt real, earnest anger. How could she treat him like this? It wasn't like before when he...confessed. (His face turned a little pink at this, but as he couldn't really remember it, and neither could she, his embarrassment was kept to a minimum.) There was no reason for any shyness or awkwardness on her part. She had to have been angry about something then. And that made absolutely no sense because he had saved her life today, and he had come back when she had been crying so hard at his leaving and he had hugged her and she had given a hopeful smile-

Only she didn't know any of that.

He turned forward, gripping the handlebars. They were back to the status quo. The one awful, awful thing about wiping out that old timeline was that Makoto had grown to like him. Like him as something more than friends. Something he had hoped for all time, it seemed, but really only since just a little after they'd become real friends. He was greedy, he supposed. He'd finally come to this era, having a full two years granted to him to fix things and to be "banished" and everything, and already he wanted more.

He sighed, and he pushed onwards.

"Stop."

The memory of what he had seen before, in the scenes of the past, came to his mind. His confession by the river, the first one, where she was leaning back just like this, and she asked him to stop-the memory filled him as if he was experiencing it first-hand.

"Stop for a second."

They coasted to the other side of the street before he obeyed. One car passed, and then it was deserted except for them.

He looked behind, hoping for something that couldn't be, not yet, but someday...

She was not looking at him, but to the side. After inhaling deeply, she turned to him and blurted, "I'm really, really sorry, Chiaki!"

This wasn't usual for her. He almost cracked a joke at her, almost smirked, but she was being too honest. Instead, he decided to switch up his game and actually listen for once.

"I was..." Makoto's eyes drifted away before they looked up to meet his again. "It was my fault you got hurt. I was so freaked and...and I didn't know what to do and the way you appeared, and I was just really, really confused and...Chiaki, you don't realize how much blood there was. You could hardly move. Now you're able to peddle a bike and we're riding double, too! And then there was that incident in the science room and it's just been a really, really long day. And I swear as soon as you got back from the bathroom you looked better..."

She sighed, groaning as she leaned her head against his back. "My head's all in a jumble."

Chiaki froze at the contact, then very, very slowly relaxed. He didn't bother trying to think of excuses, which he would eventually need, or practice his poker face, which once came so easily to him. He just let her lay her head against him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and judging by the way her fist gripped his shirt, she heard him.