I'm sorry, but this story is going to have to be put on hold for a while. My parents are having these... problems, I guess. I think they might be divorcing, and life's been really hectic around here. I'll update as soon as I can, but for now this issue is my number one priority. I hope you understand.

Please enjoy this chapter. I know it's one of my shorter chapters, and I promise I'll try to make up for it in the next one.

We Kiriharas were unique. We had arrogance, talent, determination, looks... We had perseverance and hope. But that was something I was running out of.

It has always been hard, accepting reality. I didn't like it when I lost to Echizen. I didn't like it when I lost in general. Maybe it's the inverse for others, but when the problem is my own, well, it seems so much smaller. I think it's because I know how to deal with it when it's my problem. And I know I'll always have support from my family, my friends.

It's so much harder, being the one to have to offer support.

I twirled a pencil with my fingers, watching the golden yellow wood blur. Back and forth, back and forth, more quickly and more quickly each time. It spun in a circle, and for a brief moment, it resembled a sun. I slowed down, and my sun became a pencil once more.

Comfort, I noticed, was harder to offer than to receive.

One never knows exactly what one should say, what one should do. And there were seven people I had to comfort. I didn't know how.

I think I felt a bit betrayed. Duped, almost. After so many years of peace and perfection, Kami-sama picks our last year, our most triumphant year, to destroy.

Destruction usually led to chaos, but we were already in it.

I busied myself by thinking about how sad the others must have been, and forgot about my own distress for a while. My dark hair fell in my eyes, and I brushed it away with impatience as I continued packing. My clothes, my books, my tennis equipment... My eyes meandered to a photo of the tennis team, arms around each other, with Yukimura and Sanada each holding up an end of the trophy we'd won only a year ago. Akaya was staring at it with delight, clearly unaware of the camera, while Marui and Jackal were laughing, making peace signs. Niou, Yagyuu and I were each helping themselves to a smoothie and merely glanced at the camera as the photo was being taken.

It didn't seem to be much of a big deal at the time, given that it was the third trophy in a row. I shook my head and continued packing.

Looking around my room, I realized there was a lot to pack.

Angrily, I stood up and surveyed my room. Why did we have to leave, anyway? There was comfort in the fact that Jackal would be staying with us, but—but what about everyone else? I couldn't very well take the entire team with me.

Or could I?

I shook the ridiculous thought away and continued packing. I must have been hanging around Akaya too much.

Closing my eyes, I tried to remember how it felt to be so free.

Eating when you're upset was usually a woman's thing, but I had learned to adapt it. For once, I didn't care if my magenta hair was stained with ice cream and chocolate. I wanted to eat away my troubles and let the ice cream do the rest.

"Bunta! Where are you?" my brother called.

"I'm not home!" I answered in reply, then realized that wasn't the smartest thing to say.

A few seconds later my sibling came bounding into the kitchen and announced, "I just knew you'd be in here." In a softer voice, he added, "You okay? I haven't said anything to Mom and Dad yet, but you seemed sort of..." He hesitated. "Sort of down."

"I'm okay," I assured, and pulled him in for a hug. His hair was just as bright as my own, and I mussed it up a bit. "Just a bit tired, I guess." I bit my lip and tightened my grip on him. "It's not fair." I think he knew I was crying at that point.

"What's no—" He stopped, sensing I wasn't in the mood to talk. Instead, he said, "You're my best friend ever." He lowered his eyes, then looked up at me. "You're my hero, nii-san."

I only cried harder.