Cold blue eyes stared unseeing out the window, into the darkening sky above. Her hands twisted around the narrow plastic arm of the chair repeatedly, in an automatic action. Her father had left an hour ago, presumably to drink, but Juunanagou had offered to stay with her. It was rare for him to show affection towards his twin, but in a time such as this, even he demonstrated caring. She knew he was hurting too. She turned her head listlessly to gaze around the lonely waiting room. Someone caught her attention from the corner of her eye and she turned around in her chair, wiping away some stray tears with her sleeve as she did so.

Her eyes widened slightly, the guy standing at the desk uncomfortably while the receptionist sifted through files on the computer was one of Buruma's crushes. She knew those guys about as well as Buruma now; everyone in their group did, as the girl talked of nothing else but them. Ever since she had discovered there were two of them, her hopes had skyrocketed, she now saw herself as having a chance of getting together with one, after all, if one didn't like her that way, the other was sure to!

Juu wasn't so sure she agreed with this theory, one of them was both taken and a sociopath (she hadn't yet looked into the validity of this particular statement, but during her research had discovered that one of the twins was being forced to see a psychologist) and the other seemed too good to be true, which meant he was either the one seeing the psychologist (for murderous rages, of course) or he was gay.

Juuhachigou tended to apply the latter to the cheerful Aaron, simply due to how close to killing his unfortunate girlfriend the other one looked at times. Judging by how generally pissed off this guy looked; he was the one called Bejita. She wondered why he was here, and if she should take an out-of-school-uniform photo for poor, obsessive Buruma.

He moved off, after hearing some directions from the receptionist, and Juuhachigou decided to follow, after mulling over just how long her brother could spend sitting on the floor near the vending machine.

--

He stared at her. The dark smudges beneath her eyes, eyes that once seemed to him as deep a blue as the night sky, but now resembled more closely smoke. The way even her skin took on a greyish tint, the way her hands no longer resembled the elegant form of a pianist's but now seemed to be bony, spider-like creatures, resting predatorily on the clean white sheets that obscured her curves. Her purple hair, too, looked grey, her blonde roots visible now, as they never before were. He hadn't even known she died her hair, because she did the same with her precise eyebrows.

All that once made her pretty now accentuated her position in the hospital. Her pronounced cheekbones made her cheeks look hollow, her full lips looked swollen, her large eyes frightened, like a deer in headlights.

"Your parents will get here soon," it was meant to be consoling, a promise of comfort, but the way she turned her head as though slapped made him realise his mistake.

"No they won't."

"The hospital called-"

"It doesn't matter. Fuck it Bejita, what do you think they'll do now that they know I've been doing drugs? Run over here and hug me and ask if I'm all right? They did that with my sister, and do you want to know why you haven't met her?" He remained silent, staring down at his hands. "It's because she's in jail. Jail. She's in there because of this, drugs, she got in trouble for possession, then just went on doing them, because we don't have the money for some fancy de-tox treatment, not with these school fees, and eventually she had to get into dealing to pay for her own addiction. So my parents are just going to assume I'm a no hope loser like Ally and let me sort myself out. They'll fucking hate me, Beji, you…" she stopped now, turned to stare out the window, bit her lip nervously. "You were the only one I thought I could trust. I should've known better, ne? I should've just known that mister tough guy would never sacrifice his image for me. Is that what it came down to? I was getting too close, you didn't want people to get the wrong idea, so you figured you'd just let my parents deal with me, figured they'd assume you were a 'bad influence' and ban me from seeing you?

"The worst bit is, I can't even hate you for it. No matter how hard I try, I just can't hate you. Sure, you're a bit of a dickhead, and you've got more problems than my math textbook, but you're the only guy I ever clicked with. The only guy I ever really felt like I could talk to, like I could confide in."

He turned his head away now, to the door. He wanted to leave. He didn't want this sort of emotional crap from her. He wasn't feeling anything of what she was saying to him. All he was feeling was that she was becoming one of the emotional saps he so despised. No, she was becoming something worse. She was becoming an emotional sap that needed an addiction to feel like her life was stable, and emotional sap who had no self control, who was destroying their body and only cared that someone might not like her for it, not that she was killing herself.

"I don't want you to feel like that. I want you to shut the fuck up and acknowledge that you did this to yourself and they were going to find out sooner or later, I just sped things up a bit. Before you got even more stuck in this sort of thing. You did this to yourself. Don't try and shift the blame to me, because I don't want to know about it."

He glared at her sullenly and she gave a small, slow smile. "I was going to quit for you. That was the last of it." She watched his lip curl and she knew he didn't believe her. She closed her eyes and sighed. She was aware he wouldn't believe her no matter what she said. The thing was, it was true this time, it was actually true. She had been going to quit, not so much for him, perhaps.

Her hands clenched as he stalked out the door, and a single tear rolled down her pale cheek. She hoped it wasn't true, she'd been hoping it wasn't true since she first suspected, but it was even more important now that he was gone. She hoped like hell she wasn't pregnant.

---

Woah. Where the fuck did that come from?? That uh… wasn't in the plan folks. (Mind you, neither was Juuhachigou's mother dying this early on) Oh well, that's what happened when I am unbelievably bored and not really paying attention. Maybe it's just the fact that babies are so adorable, and my subconscious is telling me the story needs more adorable babies. I think I might up the rating to PG-13 now, as I seem to be slowly and steadily losing control of my swearing habit.

PS: Review or die. It's not that hard, and the former is the most pain free option. Tell me if my story needs adorable babies or I'm just subconsciously wishing to be a 14 year old mother.