Frozen
~Coronation Day~
The guests were led from the ballroom to the cathedral where the coronation would take place. Everyone took their assigned seats, continuing to chat amongst each other, but within minutes the room fell silent and all eyes were locked on the tall double doors as the guests waited for the young heir to make her entrance.
Everyone present—as well as those waiting outside—were anxious to see this young beauty, but not nearly as much as the captain who had helped protect the castle from an evil sorceress. It was a great experience for both him and his lieutenant, but the hassles were equally cumbersome.
After much discussion, a few bursts of cold air, and a near-suffocation, they managed to agree on an outfit for Matsumoto: a fine silk kimono—one which thankfully did not show off her tremendous cleavage—with her hair braided around her head like a crown. Hitsugaya had to admit, she looked very nice—well nicer than normal.
Speaking of normal, that's how everything will be after this day.
Normal as in sitting behind a desk signing documents, yelling at a drunken lieutenant who would not do her share of the meter, a half tall stack of documents that needed to be done that day, occasional meetings, short trips to the world of the living to kill the latest rogue hollow . . . normal. No more hunts or injuries. No more coming back to the castle or seeing the young heir. No more anything having to do with the Osaka.
What was probably worse, though, was he had been warned—warned not to get attached. And he knew himself not to get attached as he had promised himself he would never have those kinds of feelings—they were foolish and he did not need them . . . yet they had infected him, boring deep into his heart—refusing to loosen their grip. Somehow, he had attained those foolish feelings, and they were twisting his mind, trapping him in an eternal loop.
He did not want to leave—to leave her. He wanted to stay. He wanted, no, needed more time with her. Two months was not enough; it was much too short . . . but he had to leave and fulfill his sworn duty as a captain. He would obey the rules like he always had . . . but it felt so wrong this time.
Damn the rules for making things so complicated. Damn her for making him feel like this. Damn it all.
It was only a simple mission: protect the family. But it soon had become something completely different.
Suddenly, the doors opened and in walked the one and only: Mizuki Osaka. Everyone in the room stood to honor the heir as she walked down a burgundy rug; leading her on a straight and narrow path to a friar and a podium bearing a velvet cushion. On that cushion: a tiara.
Unfortunately, because he was sitting at the very front, Hitsugaya only caught a glimpse of her before everyone stood. There was another thing to curse: his height. But from that split-second glimpse of her, he knew she looked amazing. Even before she entered, he knew she was going to look stunning, though he had not expected such a display.
Curse her beauty, but love her for it. Curse this world for creating a creature so beautiful, but cherish the beauty inside it.
Toshiro wanted to pull his hair out, if only he was able to pull the thoughts out with it and make his life simpler.
Once she made her way to the very front of the room and stood before the friar, the poor captain was struggling to maintain his composure. If you thought he was amazed by how she looked in a mere glimpse, imagine what he thought seeing her in full view. It took all of his strength to keep his jaw from falling to the floor. He managed though, but a faint blush tinted his cheeks.
In all practicality, he felt less like a captain and more like a kid staring at his favorite candy just dying to buy it.
And to make matters worse, Matsumoto started teasing him about the way he seemed to be ogling her.
"Why are you striping her with your eyes, Captain?" she teased in the smallest of whispers as the congregation sat and the choir began to sing a soft melody—one meant for once-in-a-lifetime rituals like a coronation.
"Shut up," he said, his pink cheeks darkening, "and pay attention."
They both looked back at the platinum blonde as she leaned forward and the tiara was placed upon her head by the friar. She straightened up as the religious man was handed an ivory pillow with a golden scepter and globus cruciger. She began reaching for the instruments but was stopped by the friar as he quietly cleared his throat.
"Your highness," he whispered, "the gloves."
Mizuki seemed to glare at him for a moment, but did as she was told.
Extremely reluctant, she pulled her gloves off, stacked them, and placed them on the cushion between the scepter and sphere with a small cross on one side. Her hands shook as they hovered over the objects; taking a deep breath, she slowly curled her quivering hands around the items.
'Don't let them see. Don't let them see,' she continued to repeat it her head as she turned to face the anxious crowd.
Holding the scepter and globus cruciger tight to her chest, Mizuki watched as everyone in the room stood and the friar began reciting dictums in Japanese and Latin.
As he continued speaking, Mizuki began to feel something in the palms of her hands. She looked down and noticed the metal objects slowly being frozen over in frost. She held her breath and looked away with terror evident in her features, unable to stop her heart from pounding with fear that her secret could be revealed before everyone in the room—mostly everyone.
She internally thanked the lord once the friar said: "Mizuki: Head of the Osaka Family," as she immediately turned and placed the objects back on the cushion, pulled her gloves back on her hands, and turned around as everyone in the room repeated the five words, clapping and, in the case of one immature clan head, whistling.
A small, genuine smile tugged at her lips as everyone congratulated her as the new leader—basically the queen—of her noble name. She glanced around the room and stole a small glance at Hitsugaya, who might have worn the ghost of a smile on his face, but she couldn't quite tell as she quickly averted her gaze and was then escorted out of the cathedral by the friar.
~:~
That night music was playing and people were dancing on the ballroom floor.
Everyone was elated and laughing, smiling, and chatting amongst themselves. The only one absent at the moment was the "queen." Although, no one really minded if she was present at the dance—save one who stood outside of the crowd, leaning against a wall and watching all the partygoers dance with a carefully-composed, almost expressionless, face.
He knew this was a time to be happy and filled with joy like the rest of the guests, but for some reason, he couldn't find it in himself to be happy. He looked more depressed than anything, and even he himself couldn't figure out the reason why. The only logical conclusion he continues to come across—no matter how much he contemplated and weighed facts, rumors, and things he wished were true—was that now she was a ruler and he was expected back in the Seireitei.
Meaning that he would never see her again . . . that was the beginning and end of the matter. He knew that such a time would come eventually and he had to be ready to leave when said time came, but within the past two months, it had suddenly become a whole lot harder to say goodbye. Could it be that . . . ?
Hitsugaya was about to step outside and clear his mind before he returned to what felt like the beginning of his end, but the music and dancing suddenly ceased—in unison, no less—and the room resounded with applause. The musicians took bows of thanks and walked away for a short break. The last to leave was a youthful pianist.
A servant stood before the crowd, raised his left arm in an introducing manner and said: "Her royal highness, Mizuki Osaka-denka."
Right one cue, Mizuki walked slowly into view—back straight, nose high—very proper and sophisticated—and stopped before the crowd as they bowed to her.
"Her mother, Megumi Osaka," he said, doing the same motions, only with his right arm that time. The noblewoman walked with the same cool, practiced poise as her daughter, stopping beside her.
Everyone applauded and Mizuki let a small smile grace her face. The music and dancing then started once again.
The blonde watched the people dance for a moment before looking to her right towards her mother and saying, "Hi."
That startled the older woman somewhat. It was the first time her daughter had really spoken a word to her in . . . basically forever, and she didn't know how to respond. She just stood there staring at her daughter, a little shocked and glancing around to make sure she was talking to her before finally muttering a small, "Hi me?" pointing at herself to clarify that the greeting was indeed for her.
"M-hm," she nodded.
"Oh, hi," the brunette smiled. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you," Mizuki said, then turned to the crowed of people once more. "So, this is what a party looks like?"
"Yes. It's been a while since we've had one. I've almost forgotten how warm it feels."
Mizuki's smile suddenly fell and she looked down in confusion. "I still don't understand," she said.
"Understand what?"
She looked at her mother with confusion in her eyes, "Why did you hide it . . . from me?"
Her mother's eyes widened slightly for a mere second before becoming solemn. "We didn't want you to be afraid of it or hurt anyone. We wanted you to believe you were normal."
"Keeping me locked inside a castle my entire life? It sure sounds perfectly normal to me." Mizuki looked away from her mother at the last sentence; the brunette itching to reply, but instead sighed an "Excuse me for a minute" and left. The blonde, too, sighed and looked the opposite direction her mother walked in. Why was it she always makes the warmest of moments so cold?
She closed her eyes in frustration.
"You're an extremely cold person," a voice said
Startled, Mizuki flinched and opened her icy orbs to see Hitsugaya standing beside her, dressed in a black montsuki.
"Though I really shouldn't be one to talk," he finished.
"Hitsugaya," she breathed, her poise slipping before she once more regained her composure; her voice becoming slightly stoic than her usual tone as she looked him the eye—with what could be considered a glare, but not exactly—and said, "What goes between my mother and I is none of your concern."
"I know," he replied—now she was glaring at him. "But," he continued, "even I can see you're trying to distance yourself further from your mother. Don't you understand that she just wants you back? You're her daughter: her flesh and blood. She's only trying to protect you like—"
"I know that," she snapped calmly, interrupting the young captain, who seemed slightly shocked at her sudden ferocity, but hid it. She sighed and said, "But now I have to protect her."
It took about three seconds before Hitsugaya understood what she meant. "By keeping her away from you?" he asked.
The blonde looked away. Hitsugaya was about to say something more, but another voice beat him to it.
"Captain!" exclaimed the all-too-familiar voice which belonged to the busty lieutenant as she sprinted toward the two. "Isn't this amazing!? This is so exciting! All the music, the lights, everything! This is just wonderful! Your mother really knows how to throw a party Mizuki-san!"
"Matsumoto, calm down!" the elfin captain said.
Mizuki stole a glance towards them.
"I understand this is a party and all, but please, control yourself . . . and don't get drunk."
He added that last part then turned back to face Mizuki just as she averted her eyes again.
The strawberry blonde suddenly relaxed, then leaned down and whispered in his ear: "Ask her to dance."
His eyes grew wide and he turned to face her.
"Wh-what?" he stuttered; his shoulders and arms tensed.
"I've seen the way you look at her," she said.
"What are you talking about?"
"These past couple months, I've noticed how you look at her with concern in your eyes," the lieutenant answered. "And how you tried getting close to her no matter how many times she pushed you away; you wouldn't back down."
He relaxed as she continued.
"There's something about her that you're drawn to and you may not know it yet, Captain, but you're—"
"What?" he interrupted, glaring at his subordinate, "Falling for her?"
Her silence was the only thing that answered his question; he looked away.
"Captain . . . ?"
"Go . . . dance or something," he said, still not glancing at her.
"But—"
"I said 'go dance'," he ordered this time. Matsumoto stood there for a moment, staring at him, before walking off, but not to go dance.
Though he knew she had already left, Hitsugaya looked back to where his lieutenant was standing before looking back at the queen regnant, who was conversing with another noble classman and a woman—who looked to be his wife.
He stood there and pondered on what his lieutenant had said—well what he said actually. There's no way that could be true though. He was only worried because of everything that revolved around her and he was only trying to get her to understand that she doesn't have to be afraid. It was his job to protect her. It was his assignment to make sure no harm came to her. So, why did he suddenly feel like protecting her because he wanted to, not because he was assigned to?
He was torn away from his thoughts as the couple Mizuki was talking with bowed and melted back into the crowd.
"You really should talk to her," a voice drifted up from behind him. "She could certainly use a break from all of these egotistical fools wishing her luck, money, and a grand legacy over and over again."
He looked behind him to see a young woman lounging against the wall with a small glass of water clasped in her delicate hands—wait, isn't that the pianist?
"What are you talking about?" Hitsugaya crossed his arms over his chest, staring intently at the woman.
"Who do you think you're kidding?" she continued, as if she hadn't heard Hitsugaya—but he knew she was just ignoring his question. "We both know that she will probably meet many of these people, five times in her life at most. By the end of it, she'll probably know their messengers better than the lords themselves. So how about you spare her the toil and ask her to dance?" She grinned. "Who knows? This might be your last chance before she gets married off to someone extremely powerful and most likely dead-boring."
"You're wrong about that," Hitsugaya stated after a few moments of silence. "She won't get married."
"Oh? What makes you so confident about that?" she asked, taking a sip of her water.
"Because she's too distant," he said, looking away from that dark-haired woman to Mizuki. "She puts distance between people. She's not sociable. What you see now is nothing but an act, a mask, an illusion. Tomorrow, she'll be shutting everyone out; trying her best not to speak a word to anyone."
The pianist seemed to contemplate this for a moment before saying, "But not with you," causing Toshiro to look back at her with a questionable face.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"It seems you're the only one she's let in," she answered, stunning the young captain for a moment. "You probably know her better than anyone and seem to know why she's so distant"—she produced a pocket watch from somewhere in her suit coat—"Anyway, whatever you choose, I have about two minutes before my break ends so I need to bounce.
"If what you say is true, then this is your last chance, and you need to take it. Let's make a deal: you go and dance with her, I will play the perfect song for you. All you need to do is ask the right question."
"You'd do that?"
"Sure, why not?"
She took another look at her pocket watch. "I need to go now. Thank you for the conversation."
"Wait, what's your name?" Toshiro questioned, stopping her mid-step.
"Don't worry about it," she said as she began walking again. "I doubt we'll meet again, so there's really no point in you knowing."
It was true, but how was he to thank her should he not be able to find her? Of course, he had a description of her, but trying to find a black-haired girl in Japan felt like a lost endeavor, even if she did have striking green eyes.
He stood still, staring at an empty space, trying to assemble the scenario that had just transpired when he heard another couple give Mizuki their "best wishes." Curiosity made him turn around and for the first time, he noticed the little things: the young noble's drawn features, the fact that she kept looking away from the man and woman she was speaking with, and quickly realized that the pianist had been telling the truth.
How had he not noticed before?
"Because you were looking for reasons not to see it," Hyourimaru rumbled in his mind. Although his zanpaku-to was not with him physically—as he had left the sword in the guest room—his spirit was with him mentally.
'Well, where have you been?' Hitsugaya questioned his sword.
"I have been here," the dragon stated.
'Thanks for the silent treatment: it really was not needed.'
"Perhaps it was. Got to her before it's too late, Master."
'Not you too . . .' he groaned internally, but maybe the dragon was right—along with his lieutenant and the pianist.
Now was his chance.
He looked towards Mizuki and walked over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder to get her attention; removing it once she turned toward him.
"Yes?" she asked calmly; a small smile tugging at her red lips.
How strange . . . she had looked anxious just a moment ago.
A silence fell between them and soon grew rather awkward. Mizuki's eyes grew wide as she looked around awkwardly, awaiting patiently what the young captain wanted to say or ask. Instead, he just stood there, staring at the floor.
He obviously hadn't thought it through all the way. He knew what he what he wanted to say, but didn't know how to say it.
"Um, Hitsugaya?" the blonde asked, he looked up at her. "Are you alright?" Her eyes were large the way her head was tilted and she sounded concerned, but more of a calmed concerned—like you could hear the worry in her voice, only it wasn't exaggerated.
"Fine" was all he said before looking away again at the crowd of dancing people.
"Are you sure?" she asked. "You spaced out there. I wasn't—"
"Dance with me," he interrupted. She blinked.
"Wh—what?" she stuttered; he turned back to her, but still didn't look her in the eye.
"Don't make me repeat myself," he said. "It was hard enough just saying that."
He shot a glance at the dark-suited girl across the room. Somehow she could tell that he was staring at her and nodded but did not look up from the keys. It was just a slight nod, but enough to reassure him.
He turned back to the situation at hand. Mizuki was looking at him, her eyes slightly fearful as she backed away a half-step, keeping her concealed hands close to her.
"I—no . . . no," she denied, looking away from him and backing away a little further.
"Osaka—"
"No! Hitsugaya I c—I won't," she said and began walking away, but before she could get far he grabbed her forearm. Mizuki gasped as a sudden memory surfaced: her yelling; ice shards, keen as daggers, pointed straight to him, nearly striking and killing him.
"Hitsugaya let me—"
"Mizuki, please." His tone was drenched in hope and imploring. Her icy orbs widened and she looked into Hitsugaya's turquoise irises.
That was the first time he had called her by her personal name, and a slight gleam in his eye told her that he knew it too.
"You trust me, don't you?" he asked. She continued to stare at him before lowering her eyes and nodding. But she made no move to get closer to him.
"Do you trust yourself?"
At that, she closed her eyes and snatched her arm back, not saying a word as she straightened her back.
"Mizuki—"
"I never gave you permision to call me by my given name," she stated coldly, turning away from him and the expected arguments, but he remained silent.
'You didn't give it to Matsumoto,' he shot back internally, sounding like a complaining child, although he would never say that out loud.
Another silence enveloped them as the song playing ceased and a new one started; this song slow and somber with the slightest of upbeats. Hitsugaya backed up a few inches and looked off to the side to let the young girl think, but it wasn't for long before she said, "One dance," and he looked her again—this time in the eye as she did the same.
Slight shock was written across his face—he didn't think she'd actually accept his offer, but she did. The shock vanished as he saw a small smile unfold in her icy blue orbs.
"Shall we?" Toshiro asked, extending an open hand to her.
She was hesitant, but nonetheless accepted his hand. They looked at each other for a moment before making their way to the center of dance floor.
The crowd parted before them, mystified of the identity of the white-haired boy—who carried himself with a degree of authority that rubbed many partygoers the wrong way. But the Osaka head seemed to like him, so they were willing to accept him.
Curiosity made them bold and they formed a circle around the shy pair, shoving each other out of the way to see.
Hitsugaya and Mizuki stopped in the middle of the circle and turned to face each other.
For a moment they just stood there staring at each other, until the captain pulled the platinum blonde against his chest and put his other arm around her waist. It was a tentative touch, unsure of its boundaries, but willing to test them in hope of a greater reward.
Mizuki gasped and stiffened at the touch and sudden movement, quivering in his grasp.
"It's alright," he said, tightening his hold on her shaking body. He knew she was terrified of touching him—anyone really—but he would quell her fears. "I'm right here" he soothed, "nothing will happen . . . I promise."
It was hard for him to keep promises, as many were broken in the past. But this was different: this time he would keep her secret and his promise to her. He would not break it. And she seemed relax a bit under the comfort of his words, but still shook.
"Put your left hand on my shoulder," he whispered. She nodded and hesitantly placed her hand on his shoulder, her cheeks tinged with an embarrassed blush.
"That's it," he complimented and gave her a slight grin; Mizuki—for the most part—relaxed a little more.
This would work. They would not stumble over each other's feet and she had no doubt that Hitsugaya knew how to dance—his etiquette vouch for that fact, plus she was already relaxing against his chest.
Hitsugaya heard the music change from full-orchestra to a percussion sectional. The rich ting-ting of the mallet quartet coupled the soft flowing piano. He glanced over at the orchestra, managing to catch the green eyes of the pianist and she winked, turned to the closest member of the quartet, whispered a few words in his ear, and the song changed.
The glittering sound effect caused by wind chimes was soon followed by the piano. Slow notes rolled down like mist from the hills to shroud a city in the delicate silver mask; ginger strikes from the cymbals set the mood perfectly. Then, a single voice flowed over the room like water, followed by a soft symphony of violins.
"You're in my arms, and all the world is calm. The music playing on for only two.
"So close together. And when I'm with you.
"So close to feeling alive."
The delicate pianist stood in front of the black grand piano, the xylophone player taking her place at the piano bench.
The dancing couple looked each other in the eye and moved to the beat of the song.
"A life goes by, romantic dreams must die.
"So I bid my goodbye and never knew.
"So close was waiting, waiting here with you. And now, forever I know.
"All that I wanted, to hold you so close."
The pianist was not wrong when she said she knew the perfect song for him. The music described his mood better than any words ever could.
It was perfect for her first dance with the indescribable shinigami captain, and perfect to describe the relationship between them both.
Once Mizuki had followed Toshiro's gaze to see a silent conversation take place between him and the young pianist; a single nod was all it took to confirm her suspicions: Toshiro had managed to orchestrate – literally orchestrate – their dance, though that fact wasn't too surprising.
As they continued swaying calmly in the middle of the dance floor, and the pianist began the seconded verse, Hitsugaya found his nerve to ask a very delicate question—one he'd wanted to ask for the longest time.
"Let me hold your hand." It sounded more like a request than a question. Damn, she made him nervous.
"You are," she replied, confused by the request.
"Your actual hand," he clarified. Over the past two months, he had never touched her skin—only the cloth that veiled it from the outside world. Just once he wanted to feel her actual self, not the cloth.
She was hesitant—she had made a vow never to harm anyone again; the only way to keep that vow was to keep her hands hidden beneath the silk, but seeing the look in his eyes was like a knife being driven between her ribs. He looked so desperate.
She sighed and looked down.
"You know I'm reluctant on doing that," she stated, looking back up at him, his eyes lowered.
"Just this once," she said, "because I trust you and your logic."
His eyes seemed to brighten up and smile, and slowly, he removed the snowy white glove from her right hand and at that very moment their hands met—both icy cold—although Hitsugaya could swear hers was colder than his—the instrumental part of the song began.
No matter though. They continued dancing and for the rest of the song and everything seemed perfect between the two: they were smiling and dancing; holding each other close—nothing could get in their way. But just before the song ended, something seemed to snap. Something suddenly changed inside the platinum blonde and she, out of nowhere, became angry.
The only thing Hitsugaya saw was her smile, and when he blinked it was gone; she looked to be glaring at him.
"What's wrong?" he asked, confused by her sudden change in mood when the song ended.
They stopped dancing—only because Mizuki pushed herself away from him, though it went unnoticed by everyone surrounding them as they applauded the orchestra and continued talking amongst themselves, oblivious to the argument about to take place.
"Osaka—!" he exclaimed, keeping his voice just low enough so that it did not carry and cause a scene.
"I want you to leave," she said, although it sounded more like an order.
"What?" he asked, bewildered. His eyes widened and his brows furrowed as his mind tried to process the situation.
"Have you gone deaf? You heard what I said: leave." He could only stare at her with his confused eyes, their teal irises showing silver fracture lines.
"Don't look at me like that," she scoffed. "You knew this day was coming. Now give me my glove and leave. Don't let me see your face here ever again!"
She reached for her glove but Hitsugaya pulled away from her.
"Hitsugaya—!"
"No," he said. Now he was becoming angry. What had gotten into her? Where had that content, blissful smile gone and how could he bring it back? How could he get close to her again?
"Hitsugaya, give me my glove," she ordered, glaring at him with more than enough violent intent.
She thought a glare could stop him? Well two could certainly play at that game as he glared back, "No, Osaka."
"Hand it over!"
"No," he repeated. "What's gotten into you? Why are you suddenly so angry?"
"I do not need to answer those questions, now—"
"Yes you do," he interrupted, silencing her. "You've never answered any of my questions, so let's start with you answering my first question."
She straightened her posture and calmly told him: "Fine. Nothing has gotten into me, nothing but you. If you never came here, none of this would be happening."
That confused the captain.
"And that's a bad thing?" he asked, unsure of what she meant.
"Yes."
Turquoise eyes widened in utter shock, and before white eyebrows furrowed over them, they narrowed in confusion.
"What?" he asked. The young captain still could not understand what the girl before him was getting at. Everything he had done: killing Kurage, providing protection, trying to help—it was bad?
"Whatever it is going on between us has to stop"—she looked away—"and I want you to leave. Never come back . . . ever."
She turned her back completely to him and began walking away; trying to hide her clenched hands in the folds of her sheer haori, but Hitsugaya wouldn't take that as answer. He knew there was more to what she was saying—something she was hiding—and he wasn't going to leave until he knew.
Until she told him what made her mood suddenly change from joy to hostility, Mizuki Osaka wasn't going anywhere either.
"Why!?" he shouted angrily, causing everyone in the room to look—creating the scene he had tried hard to prevent, but he didn't care anymore. Let them look, let them see. He no longer cared what they thought of him. "What did I do to you to make you so angry all of a sudden!?"
"Enough Hitsugaya," Mizuki said, but it sounded more like she was begging.
"No, that isn't enough for me! Why do you continue to leave me in the dark!? Why don't you ever open up to anyone!? What is it you're more afraid of!?"
"I said ENOUGH!" she yelled, swinging her bare hand in anger.
A violent swirl of icy magic billowed around her. Shards of ice grew from the floorboards, sharp as knives and equally non-discriminatory.
His promise once again, broken.
A/N: Yay! Chapter seven is a go! How was it? Good? Bad? Somewhere in between? *cowers* Please don't hurt me! She got angry at Hitsugaya for a reason! Can anyone guess it? It's kind of obvious. What about when he asked: "What is it you're more afraid of?" Can anyone guess what he means by that?
Anyway people, follow/favorite/review, any plus one of those three makes me happy and motivates me to continue writing this story! (For those of you who have seen "Frozen", you obviously know what's going to happen and I'm sorry if I make it too closely related to the movie. I'm trying my best not to, but like I said in my first chapter in my authors note-for those few who read it-I did say it was going to be similar to the movie, but not too similar.)
Oh and the name of the song is "So Close" from the movie "Enchanted".
Thank you for those who followed/favorited/reviewed my story! (I don't know how many there were as I am forgetful, so I apologize for not placing your author name here, but I am thanking you. I assume between 5 and 10. I could be wrong, but whose counting?-other than 7Shadows-)
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you 7Shadows, for once again helping my story! And for the pianist!
Until next time! :P
A note from 7ShadowsUnleashed:
Well, hello again, everyone. Now, I know there are probably other stories on your to-read list, but if you are staying for a little while longer to read a note from the beta, then 'thank you,' it really means a lot.
I just wanted to thank you for reading. Hopefully you will review as well, and add your name to the growing list of followers and favourites if you enjoy what you just read. Every little bit helps and it means a lot to both of akafyi and myself when we watch something we both put a lot time into do well.
Thank you and I hope to see you again soon,
- 7ShadowsUnleashed
