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Amu's POV

"I can't believe I'm just casually having afternoon tea with you on my birthday as we talk about my mental health."

"It's no biggie."

No normal person would have tea with someone like me. No normal person would give me a pack of strawberries on my birthday. No normal person would carry my bags for me. And I'm sure as fuck no normal person with a father as a psychologist would even think of hanging out with his patients. I wasn't normal. The person in front of me was not normal either. You must be thinking, 'this bitch is overreacting lots of depressed people have friends and having tea with someone or giving them something for their birthday is normal, too.' Well yeah, but there's just one simple fact that shows how abnormal this whole thing is.

The person in front of me is so much better than I am.

At what? Everything.

At life, at making friends, at academics, socially, physically and all that shit; everything.

Tsukiyomi Ikuto sits across from me on my four-seater dining table as he sips his tea from one of my spare teacups. He knows that I'm a psycho and he knows that his dad is my new psychologist. And he's probably here to talk shit and tell me to stay away from him and such.

I take a deep breath and reach for the teaspoon, "Don't you think I'm some kind of –"

"Psycho?"

And I drop the said utensil once I hear this.

"I thought you would say that." He continues.

My chest aches at how casually he says this. It was as if he didn't have a care in the world at all that I was a psycho and that it was perfectly normal to be one. I cringe inwardly. "Would you like some sugar with your tea?" I ask him. He shakes his head.

He speaks up, "My parents taught me not to judge other people. Dad says that everyone has a story. So, no; I don't think you're a psycho. I think you're cute-"

"Stop that."

"Excuse me?" He raises an eyebrow at me.

"Stop calling me cute. And stop treating me like we're friends or lovers or whatever. Calling me okaa-san and all, it's irritating. Even if it was just a joke; it gets to my nerves. You come into the school all of the sudden in the middle of September and you spend every lunch hour with me. Who do you think you are, huh?"

"Someone who wants to be friends with you-"

"No, just no. You do not want to be friends with someone like me. I'm telling you, you do not. "

"You can't tell me what to do."

"What? Just because you're Dr. Aruto's son I have to obey you or something?"

"I know what you're doing here, Amu. I know you're depressed. I know you take Prozac. I know you're insecure like any other normal teenage girl out there but you're at some other kind of level. But it's still the same, more or less," He thinks for a while. "You're pushing me away. For what reason? I don't know. You tell me. "

He pauses again, still thinking. I just glared at my tea. Here I am, explaining myself to someone like he was God or something. He doesn't have to know everything about me. Why does he even care? Is this some exercise from Dr. Aruto? Is Ikuto some kind of spy?

He speaks up again, "Okay, maybe I do know the reason why you push people away."

"Enlighten me, please."

"You think you're better off alone. And you're scared of being hurt…I've heard rumors about you, Amu. Don't think you're invisible at school. You're pretty much a hot topic in the guys' locker room every now and then. I hear guys talking about them wanting to bend you over on the table and-"

"Your point, Ikuto?" I was blushing madly. Hearing those words come out from Ikuto's mouth…I don't know what I'm supposed to feel.

"You think you're not worth anyone's time. You think you're no good for anyone. When in reality you don't even try to be good enough for yourself."

Then the room was silent for a while.

"…What do you want from me?" I look up from my tea cup and stare at him with an adamant expression. "Do you want me to put on makeup every day? Do you want me to hitch my skirt up a bit? Do you want me to try out for the cheerleading team? Do you want me to dye my hair blonde or red or something? Do you want me to stuff my bra, Ikuto? Because this is as big as it's going to get." I laugh humorlessly.

"No, ichigo. You have it all wrong." He sighs. "Really, I'm disappointed in you-"

"Well, this is as good as I'm going to get, too."

"Stop that."

"Don't tell me what to do. Don't tell me to change myself to look better for people to like me because-"

He sighs again.

"What?"

"You're really stupid, you know that, ichigo? You don't have to change. You don't have to be good enough for anybody else. You just have to like yourself more...It's like you don't approve of yourself at all." He tells me. "And it's driving me crazy."

"Why do you care?"

"That's what friends do," He assures me. "There's something…there's something that's pulling me towards you and I don't know what it is. All I know is that I want to be there for you, in any way I can. Because I know for a fact that people deserve someone who would make them happy, be it a lover, family, or a friend…or a pet." He glares at Shinigami-chan who was beside him on the floor. Shinigami-chan was glaring at Ikuto ever since he got here.

Then he looks back to me, his serious expression changes into one that is calm and serene. "You don't have to go through it alone. Whatever it is you're dealing with."

I've got nothing left to lose. I could run straight off a cliff and not give a fuck. Maybe I would feel a bit guilty for leaving Shinigami-chan but I still think I wouldn't regret anything if I take a bullet to my head right now. My family would mourn but I emotionally detached myself from them a long time ago. So what have I got to lose if I let Ikuto care for me? I might regret this in the future but I think…I think I could let someone help me this time.

It's funny how I wouldn't regret killing myself while agreeing to be friends with Ikuto feels like taking a huge risk.

I heave a sigh of defeat.

"Y-you won't tell anybody about this?" I ask him, watching him carefully. I needed to know if I could trust this person but I don't know how I could possibly do that. I don't know what it is, but there's something inside me that's urging me to take the risk. "You won't tell anyone about me taking any pills or seeing Dr. Aruto at your house? "

He nods, assuring me. "Is there anything else that I might know that you don't want me to tell people?" My hand immediately rests on my inner thigh and my fingers brush along the scars. He doesn't have to know about that. But Dr. Aruto does. I promised him I would let him help me. I don't think the doctor would appreciate me not telling him about my…battle scars. "Even if there was…and you couldn't tell me, I promise…I promise that you could trust me. I…I really want to help you, Amu."

I eye the person in front of me carefully. Similar to when Dr. Aruto asked if I would allow him to help me. His son invited himself over to my house on my birthday, asking me if he could help me, too. I said yes to both.

The feeling was nice.

"Would you like a slice of cake, Ikuto?"

He nods and smiles.

I put on my school blazer and stare at myself in my full-body mirror.

"Well, this is as good as I'm going to get, too."

To say that I had a good night's sleep is an understatement. Going to bed last night felt like pure bliss.

"When in reality you don't even try to be good enough for yourself."

Nah, I'm joking. I didn't get any sleep last night at all. Ikuto left a little after six, claiming he had to help his mom cook dinner. He goes here to eat, and he comes home to help make the food he eats. He eats a lot yet he looks like this perfectly sculpted Adonis. Oh, Kami-sama, I sound like a deranged fan girl. So, anyway, my tea party with Ikuto was all I kept thinking about last night. It was a little after four when my brain decided to let me sleep.

I skim my fingers along my eye bags and I let out a groan. I'm supposed to go to school looking like this? Great, just great; people are going to love me today. I look like a zombie in a skirt with pink hair.

"You don't have to change. You don't have to be good enough for anybody else."

On second thought, I shouldn't really give a fuck.

I enter the classroom from the back and take my seat since it was nearer. Ikuto was already there, reading a shojo manga. He hears me snicker, "Why are you reading girly mangas?"

"Why not?" He puts the manga down and smirks at me. "You look really pretty today."

I blush and ignore his last comment. "I don't know, maybe because they're for girls? And you're not a girl, Ikuto." I snort.

"Maybe I have a secret I'm not telling you."

I stare at him with a poker face. He notices that I must be getting an idea so before anything else, he quickly adds, "I'm not gay, okay?" He narrows his eyes at me and all I can do is laugh. I was about to tell him otherwise when our class president made his way to my table.

Hotori Tadase was the school's prince charming. I'm not really infatuated with him or anything but…okay yes, maybe I am. But I've got much bigger problems than dealing with him and I don't really think he'll like someone like me so I don't really bother. He's someone what you would call 'eye candy.' Yes, sweets for your eyes. So sweet, you won't even notice him talking to you already since you can't help but ogle at his blonde hair and ruby red eyes.

"Oi, ichigo." Ikuto flicks my forehead.

"Ouch! What was that for?" I rub my forehead, pouting. I then proceed to stick out my tongue at him.

"Girls like you shouldn't let their tongues out in the open like that. Guys might get ideas." He smirks.

I blush hard, "Wh-what did you want, Ikuto?"

"Blondie's asking for your reply slip for the field trip." He says casually, pointing his thumb at Hotori-kun.

Then I turn to my right and see Hotori-kun in all his glory, standing just a few inches beside me. I could smell his fragrance of vanilla and mint. What guy uses a fragrance? Is he for real? So I finally decided to stop humiliating myself and speak up, "G-Good morning, Hotori-kun." I smile at him. I reach in my bag for my reply slip and hand it to him, "Here you go." I must look stupid. I do look stupid.

"Thank you, Hinamori-san. By the way, you can call me Tadase-kun." He smiles his princely smile at me. I can't help but blush even more.

"R-right. Thanks, Tadase-kun. You can call me Amu." Ikuto's glare doesn't go unnoticed by me.

"Hai, Amu-chan." He smiles at me again. I swear, he does that one more time and I am going to faint. "I was wondering," he starts. "Do you have a partner for the field trip already?"

"Yes," Ikuto answers for me. "She already agreed to be partners with me."

My breathing hitched. "What? No, I-"

"Oh, what a shame," Tadase-kun sighs. "I was planning on asking you, Amu-chan, to be my partner. But I guess Tsukiyomi-kun already beat me to it." He smiles a small smile this time, to be polite. Then the bell for first period rings. "See you later, Amu-chan." He waves at me. "Tsukiyomi-kun," he nods at Ikuto.

When Tadase-kun was out of earshot, Ikuto turned to me in his seat. I glare at him, clearly disappointed that he rejected Tadase-kun for me.

"He totally wants to bang you." Was all he said.

I was about to tell him to piss off but sensei already entered the classroom.

The bell for lunch time rang a few minutes ago and I was staring at Ikuto who was seated, facing me. I was also sitting on my chair, my bento box already set for me to eat. 'Oh that's normal; Amu and Ikuto usually have lunch like this. Yes, yes. Perfectly normal.' Well, not really. Not this time. Instead of turning his desk, which created a very…approvable distance between us, he decided to just turn his chair this time so we shared my table.

"You're acting really weird today," I tell him. Our knees were almost touching. "Either that or this is some new technique to have easier access to my food." I take my chopsticks and go for an octopus ball, savoring the taste in my mouth.

"Go out with me – "

I almost choke.

" – To the grocery store today. Since you practically begged me to be your partner for the fieldtrip, my dear ichigo, then I could spare some time to buy some snacks with you for Monday."

"Oh." I look down at my lunch, trying to process what he just told me. "Okay, then- Wait, I begged? You sure do dream big, Ikuto and what's with you glaring at Tadase-kun like that? Are you guys enemies or something?" His nose scrunches up at the mention of our class president's name. Much like how Shinigami-chan scrunches up his at the mention of 'Rima-chan.'

"I don't like how he calls you 'Amu-chan.' Only I can call you 'Amu-chan.'" He says as a matter of factly.

"Well, I don't know, Ikuto." I start sarcastically. "Amu-chan is my name."

"Tsk."

We spend lunch like how we always do. He teases me about something and when I huff and look out the window, he steals a few pieces of octopus balls from my bento box. And when he's busy glaring at the back of Tadase-kun's head every time I mention his name, I steal a few pieces of meat from his.

I could get used to this.

Now I just have to get used to seeing him on Saturdays, too.

It was quiet in the Hinamori household one fine Saturday morning. A little rosette was watching TV when she realized she was alone. Not being able to stand this, she trots around the house; looking for someone or something else to amuse her. She then makes her way upstairs and was debating whether or not to belly slide along the newly polished wooden floor of the corridor. She was about to give her penguin skills a try but then she spotted her beloved papa on the other side of the hall.

"Papa," five year old Amu called. "Papa, play with me."

Amu's papa was on the phone at the moment, "Yes…yes, I understand. How long?" He takes a deep breath. "I see." He pauses. "I'll withdraw from the bank, don't worry. I saved up for these kinds of things." He smiles a sad smile at his daughter, telling her that now was not the time to play."Yeah, I love you, too. Okay, get home safe."

"Bye."

"Papa, who was that? Who did you say 'I love you' to?"

"It's just Mama, Amu-chan." He smiles at her.

"What's wrong with Mama? She asking you to buy something? Why you need to go to bank, Papa?"

"Mama needs medicine to get better, Amu-chan."

"Why? What's wrong with Mama? What Mama's sickness?"

Her papa was speechless; all he could do for now was hug his daughter. Then he whispers to her, "Mama is – "

I sit up from my bed, my grip on the bed sheets tighten as I feel sweat roll down the nape of my neck. I was panting heavily despite the cold temperature inside my room. I take a look at the clock and see that it's 12 minutes past 9. It was also 12 minutes past 9 when I felt the tears roll down my cheeks.

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