AN;; Thanks for all the great reviews guys! Keep at it. I love when people read and tell me what they think. Oh, and because you reviewed without an account:

Brain-eater XXI- Thank you. I really appreciate that. c: I've been trying to express her emotions and I'm happy it got through. As for the her's/hers, fff. I wasn't even paying attention. It's fixed in this chapter, and I'll add it to the previous ones when the story is finished. orz

IV.

Hehehehe. Hehehehehehehehe.

Her scent was so sweet. So deliciously sweet and lovely. And it was hers. Hers to devour. The featherly green strands, snatched from wherever she could find them. Rin brought the hairs to her lips and kissed them. She was Gumi's true Prince Charming, right? She would sweep the girl off her feet and carry her away into the sunset. She would love Gumi like no one else. She would take Gumi places she had never dreamed possible.

Drawing away, Rin placed the hairs back on their nametagged pedestal of sorts. They glowed in the light, rippling just as their still live brethren were doing, perhaps right that moment. To their right was a collection of gum Gumi has chewed, a couple actually still moist with her saliva. Rin brought her lips down and kiss-sucked on one for a little bit. It tasted of Gumi. Of her delicious mouth and all its secrets. Just like it has tasted in Rin's dreams.

Such sweet and lonely dreams they were.

But of course. Ones heated and unspeakable, but wonderful nonetheless. Wonderfully terrible. Terribly wonderful. She grinned slightly. Dreams that consumed her. Dreams that perfumed her with such amazing smells and tastes. Gumi's face, moistened with sweat. Skin bare and ready to be devoured, taken. Molded.

Shaped. Created. Made hers. Hers forever and always.

Next in line were bottles that Gumi's lips had drunk from, scarves that had warmed her neck, shopping lists she had scribbled. A whole junk drawer of Gumi. But it wasn't junk to Rin. It was a treasure chest filled to the brim with glittering little diamonds. Things that Gumi had touched. Things that Gumi had worn and used and done. Proof of her living and existing and being...Being amazing. The scarf of hers still smelled like carrots. The shopping list had not yet yellowed. The bottles were not yet past their expiration. They were fresh and new and so connected to her.

Strewn across the floor were the rest of her mementos. Photos and bits of string and phone numbers. Pictures of Gumi and Rin, standing side by side, eating at restaurants, dancing, being together. And ones of Gumi alone. Modeling shots from the program she had gone off to. Her in bathing suits, gorgeous dresses. Smiling truly and sincerely and Rin couldn't help but love her all the more. Love her even more for her certainty and sincerity and charm.

Charming. Charming like the princess she is.

Gumi was gone. Gone from her grip. They hadn't spoken in so long. It had gotten warmer and colder and warmer again in the months that passed. And still, Gumi stayed with that man. Loved him "more than anyone". She was reduced to a celebrity status in Rin's mind. Someone to idolize and fantasize about, but never have. The sweet apple that even now she was denied. The sweet, desired apple.

Mine Mine Mine Mine

The walls were covered with scribbles. Most were illegible scrawlings to clear her head. Others were clear.

Come baaack

Mine Mine Mine Mine

Her head was never clear anymore. It was throbbing, pulsing constantly. Thoughts and ideas passed through at random, drifting like unwanted clouds through a humid, misty sky. Half the time, she didn't even know what she was doing. She pulled at her limp blond hair. Yanked it right out of her head. Chunks lined her room, lightly carpeting the floor. Her fingernails were roughly bitten. Her lips were scabbed and chapped.

Can't think can't see can't breathe I'm choking

She felt like a shell. A blind shell, rising with every breath but not really breathing. No air actually filling lungs, but just appearing to do so. Never sleeping, never speaking. Just staring. Staring and staring but never actually seeing. Not crying, never crying. Never feeling. No feeling but that desperate love, that lost love. That which was longed for, desired so strongly.

Need her...

She hadn't gone to school in months. For her own health, her mother had said. She wasted away every day, lying on her bed and staring. Ripping out her soul, day by day. Day by day. On occasion, she would sneak out and take things of Gumi's. Articles of clothing, food... Most recently, it had been Gumi's diary. But Rin had been reluctant to read it.

Until now, that is.

Rin collapsed on her yellow sunflower sheets. Once upon a time, they and seemed soft and habitable. She had snuggled into them after a long, exhausting day. But now they were stiff from overuse and she hated them all the more for it. What little hair she had left spread out under her head, atop the now lumpy and gray pillow she used to adore. "Used to". It came up so often now.

Gumi had very neat handwriting. Rin loved that about her. It swirled and curved and every 'i' was dotted with a little heart. Hearts for her, she had once convinced herself. But she knew now that Gumi was not her's. Gumi had chosen someone "else". And as much as she tried to convince herself...

"Dear Diary,

Hehe, this is fun. I used to keep a journal when I was little, but it's been ages! I hope I can fill this up by the end of the month to show Rin that I can stay committed to something."

That was right. She remembered pressuring Gumi into getting a diary to help her keep track of her thoughts. It had helped considerably. For a moment, she smiled. It was nice to know that she had made an impact on Gumi's life... She flipped forward some.

"Dear Diary,

Rin is such a sweetie. If I weren't straight, I swear I'd have her for myself. ~ "

"Dear Diary,

I'm going to a modeling program for a few months. Wish me luck! Rin just saw me off and I'm on the plane now. I hope I do well, hehe."

"Dear Diary,

Modeling is going pretty well. Apparently I'm really photogenic. Some of the other girls told me that and I couldn't help but feel bad. They're all a lot prettier than I am. But Rin beats them all! So Rin, if you ever happen to read this, I'm so jealous of your cuteness."

"Dear Diary,

I just met the most amazing guy ever. He gets all my weird jokes and everything. I'm talking to him on the phone right now. His parents made him go to this program. Apparently modeling runs in the family. Haha."

"Dear Diary,

Remember that guy I mentioned? We've started dating! This is the best thing ever. I can't wait to tell all my friends at home. Hey guys, beat you~."

"Dear Diary,

I'm not sure what's up with Rin. I went and introduced her to John, but she ended up doing this bizarre laugh-cry 2x combo. Everyone else was really excited though! Miku wanted to steal him from me. I had to drag him back to my house. Did I mention? He's staying with me for the time being. Eee!"

"Dear Diary,

John makes the best pancakes ever. That is all."

Rin stared at the pages. No tears came, but she felt the pressure all the same. With every page, Gumi talked more and more about "John" and became more and more alien. She wasn't even the same girl anymore. This Gumi was different. Rin couldn't love this Gumi. Rin could never learn to love this Gumi, and this Gumi could never learn to love her. She was foreign. Different. Rin read the last page.

"Dear Diary,

It's official. John and I have crossed the line into "serious couple" and we're NOT going back. Hehehe. His kisses are always so sweet! "

It was written exactly two days ago. Two long, terrible days. But they were no doubt wonderful for Gumi. Images flooded Rin's mind. Gumi pressed up against her boyfriend. Passion rippling throughout the room. He made her "his". This Gumi was "his" now. He had "taken" her, so she was now "his". Rin felt emotion for the first time in a while. A horrible anger, drenching her. Spreading through to her fingers and making her rip and wrinkle the pages of the diary. Clearing her cloudy head. And one word was left.

Kill.

She found herself slipping into a blind rage, ripping up the diary. Tearing it apart and imagining it was him. Imagining she was ripping his organs apart and spattering every single wall with his blood and loving every single second of it. The once beloved book lay empty and torn at her feet. Broken. He broke her and she would break him back. She would break his heart and break his body and break his soul. Crush it and rip it and watch it die.

Kill kill kill.

She found herself prying open the window by her bed, climbing out into the dead of night. She held that knife tight in her hand, jerking it every so often. Too eager. Too willing. Her eyes were wide and dead, searching.

He would pay.