Author's Note: I was having a "Twilight" moment while writing this chapter. During the meantime, I was also listening to the "New Moon" soundtrack. I'm not sure if this "Twilight" attitude influenced my writing (:

~ Coincidence ~

Sometimes it is better not to think too much. "What is meant to be will be," Chihiro constantly reminded herself as she walked to Miko. But what is meant to be? When Chihiro fell in love with Haku seven years ago, was that meant to be? When Chihiro chose to return to the mortal world instead of staying with Haku, was that meant to be? When Haku failed to show up again and again after all the seven years of hoping, was that meant to be? Chihiro's eyes filled with tears as these thoughts circulated through her brain.

Miko looked at her best friend, her eyebrows forming deep, concerned creases on her forehead. Even though Miko was already quite acquainted with Chihiro's never-ending depression revolving around him, Miko still had difficulty keeping herself together whenever she sees Chihiro's tears. Chihiro used to be such a cheerful girl, always skipping vivaciously and humming that playful tune to herself. Yes, Chihiro was rather quiet and shy when Miko first met her in third grade, but that quickly changed as their friendship strengthened. But ever since Chihiro moved away during fifth grade to the new town, then returned unexpectedly a few months afterward, Chihiro had never been the same. At that time Miko did not know the actual reason of the Oginos' sudden return, but she later overheard a conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Ogino about Chihiro's distressed condition. Ever since then, things have changed.

Miko held her strawberry umbrella over Chihiro's head, and the two slowly walked toward their school. Seeing Chihiro's once-again agonized mood, Miko knew not to ask questions.

The two girls reached their first class, Japanese calligraphy, a few seconds before the bell rang. Coincidentally, Toshio also had this class for his first period. Miko scowled to herself, "Toshio's presence might provoke something from Chihiro." Miko looked at her friend. Just like the day before, and the day before that, and the week before that, Chihiro was taking out that notebook again. Actually, it was more of a jaded sketchpad, with its corners all bent from being pulled out from a backpack so very often. And that pencil. Chihiro's favorite pencil. It was just an ordinary blue pencil really, but with rather an ornate, shiny gleam that sparkled when turned at a certain angle. Miko once asked Chihiro why she liked that pencil so much, and Chihiro answered, "Because Haku gave it to me."

"Because Haku gave it to me."

Chihiro doodled in her Japanese notebook while listening absentmindedly to Ujifusa-sensei's babbling about the curves and strokes of the Japanese calligraphy. Points. Hooks. Dots. Whatever. Chihiro hummed rather silently to herself as she sketched with her pencil, her mind zoning out into the infinite space of imagination. The only place where she was free.

Chihiro felt a gentle nudge against her left arm. "Hey, that looks like Toshio-kun!" quietly exclaimed Miko.

Reluctantly, Chihiro brought her mind back to the classroom...back to reality. She looked down at her scribbles. "Really…it's supposed to be Haku-kun," Chihiro whispered. She took another look at her artwork.

Suddenly, she could not tell.

It was difficult for Toshio to keep his eyes on his paper as he tried to concentrate on his own calligraphy. He took an occasional glimpse at Chihiro's direction every now and then, hoping that he could somehow decipher the enigmatic expression on her face. He squinted to sharpen his focus.

Drip.

Toshio looked down at his paper.

Then at his shirt.

"DAMN!"

Chihiro looked up from her drawing of Haku.

Toshio was dancing in place with his legs in the air.

There was an unattractive black blotch on his gray school uniform.

For the first time since forever, Chihiro could feel the corners of her mouth curve up into a slight smile.

"Ujifusa-sensei, I need to use the restroom," mumbled Toshio incoherently.

The sensei frowned. She thought for a minute about whether she should lecture the new student, but she could not hold back her laughter as she slowly took in the boy's awkward appearance: the ruffled, wet hair, the slightly disorganized crinkle in the left corner of his shirt, the obvious stain on his right pat leg. "Oh goodness! Please do so, but I highly doubt you can wash out that dark stain," said the sensei in her old grandmotherly voice. Toshio sighed loudly, and quickly stalked out the classroom.

Miko gave Chihiro an apprehensive look.

Drip.

"Um…Chihiro-chan…" began Miko.

"Hmm?"

"Your shirt-"

"What the… MIKO!" screeched Chihiro when she suddenly saw the black ink. "MY SHIRT! MY SHIRT!"

"I think you need to use the bathroom now, too," grinned Miko innocently.

"MIKO. But I-"

"Are you girls okay back there?" asked Ujifusa-sensei.

"Oh, sensei, I think Chihiro-chan needs to use the restroom also," explained Miko in a compelling voice, "I accidentally got ink on her uniform."

Chihiro glared at her best friend. "Yes, sensei, I think I need to change." She quickly grabbed the white towel that was sticking out from her backpack and walked briskly to the girl's bathroom.