Uhhhh so where did summer go? o.o;;

Guys, I move back into the dorms on Sunday, and classes start Tuesday. And I'm a biology major so ALL the reading and labs. And if I manage to finagle into a part-time job, well... Between that and other things I'll be doing to keep myself sane blah blah blah excuses and apologies. I'll do my best to keep updating, though. I'm at the point that there's little plotting left to do – it's just getting everything actually written in a perfectly adequate manner. If nothing else, there will be NaNoWriMo – while I'm not going to be writing a novel (again ;_;) it's still an excuse to get some writing at all done. But I'm getting ahead of myself, here.

"So your dad and stepmom are okay with you coming over for dinner?"

"Yeah, believe it or not."

I heard Satomi mention to Dad when she thought I was out of earshot that she'd actually suspected it – something about knowing the look of "first love" when she saw it. Now if that wasn't a reason for the ground to swallow me up... I did not say a word of that to Yukumi. I knelt down to lace up my school shoes. Yukumi waited patiently at my side, though she fidgeted a little with her backpack strap.

"So, do you want to just come home with me after school? Or do they want you home for a bit?"

"I said I would find out what was okay with your parents." I straightened and closed the locker on my street shoes. "So coming home with you is okay, then?"

She nodded emphatically. "Mm-hmm." We started walking. "Mom was wondering what you like, just so she has an idea of what to make." I delivered a short list.

"But there's no pressure to keep to the list. I like lots of things."

Yukumi smiled knowingly. "If there's one thing you need to remember about my Mom, it's that she'll make your favorite food and lots of it. Maybe you should skip lunch on Saturday."

"Hmm." We climbed the stairs to the second level, where we would have to part ways. "See you at lunch?"

"Of course," she beamed, gave my hand a quick squeeze, and continued down the hall. I turned to the next flight of stairs – to see Yuhei at the top. Great.

He let me walk right on by, though he did not budge from his sentry position at the landing; rather, he turned on the spot to watch me go. I did not like the look on his face. Something about the way his eyes darted between me and the foot of the stairs. I resisted any urge for nervous movement. Yuhei did not say a word, but I felt his eyes pinned to my back the whole way to my classroom.

I chanced a glance back the way I came when I reached the door. The hall was empty. Grimacing, I decided for the moment it was damn lucky for him that he didn't follow me. The last thing he ought to want was a punch in the mouth; the last thing I needed was to do such a thing at school.

Never mind. Class. Yukumi at lunch. My mood lifted a little. Those were the things that mattered, after all.

–

Lunch passed uneasily. Yukumi spoke one-liners from her train of thought, as was her way, but she appeared worried. She wouldn't reveal anything when I asked, so I dropped the subject. But I noticed Yuhei watching us both walk by after Yukumi and I had finished eating. I made a point to ignore him. Part of me wanted to demand that if the rat had something to say, then he should say it.

The part that won the battle insisted on maintaining my composure as long as Yukumi was around. I wanted to keep her around, and that necessitated keeping my fight to myself. I scowled more deeply, but at least I listened.

–

It was a relief to see only Yukumi at the end of the day – and looking in considerably better spirits. She asked me what I was smiling about, and I waved it off. "It's a nice day," I said offhand. She nodded in agreement and tentatively wrapped her fingers around mine. I looked down at them, and her grip loosened nervously. Deciding holding hands felt kind of nice, I took a firmer hold to reassure her.

"So when can I meet your dad and stepmom, then? After Mom and Dad approve of you, I mean."

Caught slightly off-guard though not surprised (Dad and Satomi had asked about meeting Yukumi in turn), I scanned the sky, calling up my mental calendar. I didn't have anything big happening, and to my knowledge neither did anyone else in the household. "Anytime, I guess. Maybe next Saturday? Same deal; you'd just be coming home with me." Inexplicably, she blushed. She was a such a naif, really; on anyone else it would have been so annoying... But because it was Yukumi, if pressed I would admit, okay, I found it a little endearing. A spring joined her for a few steps and she swung our arms between us. With no other plausible reason for it, I assumed it had to do directly with what I had just said. I thought about making a comment, but her face was still quite pink; maybe it was better not to draw attention to it.

We had become so used to our joint after-school routine that before either of us knew it we'd entered the café near our high school. "I really want to get a parfait," Yukumi mused, "but they're huge..."

I knew she was fishing for me to offer to share it with her; Yukumi was a bit of a sucker for cheesy romance-movie things like that. In the end she left me to find a table; a few minutes later she came to the booth with a fruit parfait and two spoons. As a favor to her I took at least one spoonful for each she had. About halfway down the glass she stopped, insisting she'd had enough even though I'd shared enough meals with her to know she had the metabolism of a humming bird and could completely afford the rest of it – she could have eaten the whole thing, even. "It's fine. I think you need it more; you're so boney..." I instantly looked down at my hands. Somehow, it only then occurred to me that I hadn't eaten much at all for the past month. Even the skin stretching across my knuckles seemed like it didn't properly exist. I balked; I hadn't seen myself much lately. Hadn't wanted to, really... I wondered why no one else had called me on it earlier. I then figured that wearing longer layers for the cooling weather had something to do with it. I flexed my fingers, watching tendons and bones ripple underneath the pale skin. When I looked back up to Yukumi her eyes were pained.

Under that pleading gaze I knew too well from other people – 'At least humor me, eat something, so I'll feel better.' – I took up my spoon again and picked at what was left of the parfait. A grateful smile passed over her features for one second before she covered it with an innocent "Shall we?" as she rose from her seat.

–

I dug through my box of things I kept from when I was thirteen – including my old wrist brace. I felt a nice pull of satisfaction to drop it back in, where it belonged. I didn't need it. What I did need, however, were several sheets of handwritten tabs. I found old school certificates and antidepressant prescriptions and an empty box that once had a stash of dried potato snacks, now held a stash of half-emptied prescription bottles. I really hated taking those pills; they made me throw up half the time, and the other half I... felt weird around guys. That's all I'm saying.

Finally I uncovered the sheets of tabs marked out in scuffed pencil, almost at the bottom of the box. I rifled through them; some pages had titles... Wow. One had attempts at lyrics, but I couldn't remember in the moment what sort of melody they were meant to follow.

Goal obtained, I replaced the lid and shoved the box back under my bed. I went out to the garage to retrieve my guitar; stowed next to it was the battery-operated tuner – out of battery power. I replaced the batteries in the kitchen, and then took instrument and gadget back upstairs. Satomi smiled lightly at me when I walked by her, in the living area. She had always liked to hear me practicing in my room, even though I refused to play anything just for her. I adjusted my grip on the case.

Tuning alone nearly made me give up on the endeavor. The A-string never liked to hold pitch for more than two minutes under any circumstances. In the end I got it as close as I could and decided I wouldn't worry about tuning it again until I needed to play for an audience – whenever that would be. I had only gotten the guitar out again because of Yukumi's enthusiasm three weeks ago, but I wasn't exactly leaping to perform.

Been a while since I've seen that up here.

"Here to make me feel self-conscious when I'm out of practice as it is?" I murmured, working my fingers into a C-chord.

Hi to you, too.

I heard him juggling the tennis ball. "You wouldn't happen to know what was eating Yukumi at lunch today, would you?"

Incorporeal, not psychic, Kouichi snarked. I rolled my eyes.

"You seem to read my mind well enough."

He let out one bark of laughter. You're my twin. As if that explained it perfectly. I shrugged, no longer interested. You have gotten awfully thin, though...

"Is everyone my mother today?"

He went silent and still.

"Sorry..."

It's okay. I know you didn't mean it like that.

I strummed a few different chords, practicing the transitions. "I never meant to share any of my songs with anyone. Is this a good idea?" I thought aloud; of course I was definitely seeking Kouichi's input, but I didn't want to seem that unsure of myself. A nonchalant shrug was the only answer I got.

I'm not the one risking total embarrassment, here.

I frowned at him. "Aren't you on my side?"

Of course.

"Hmph." Maybe I should just ignore him until he started offering constructive input...

The only sounds in the next stretch of silence between us, came out of my guitar. The fingerings weren't coming back to me as easily as I thought they would. Which was fine; there was no rush. It was just a little frustrating.

I think that's enough practice.

Wordlessly I put the guitar back in its case.

You don't want to burn out your enthusiasm in one day. It already took you forever just to tune the darn thing.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." I looked up at him. He rested his chin in his palm, leaning his elbow on his knee. Lost in thought.

It is a nice day, he mused, Maybe you should go outside for a while. Walk around the neighborhood a little bit.

I looked out the window. The sky was very clear, and the temperature had been comfortable when I'd made it home. Again, I shrugged. "Maybe tomorrow, if it's nice. I don't feel like going anywhere tonight."

Kouji, you know you're not going to go out tomorrow even if it is nice. Just walk to the corner and back, or something. Quit being such a hermit.

For that he earned a sour look. He laughed.

–

I wondered after the fact if it had been so wise to mention offhand to Yukumi that I'd tracked down the "music" I wrote two years ago. The way her eyes lit up and she looked ready to raise the ceiling in her excitement made it worth it in the moment; later, anxiety crept in. Now, I was committed. Now, I needed to practice. Having only picked up my guitar again yesterday, I wasn't sure if my enthusiasm for the endeavor would last until Saturday – the day she suggested I bring my guitar with me to school so we'd have a means to kill time until dinner with her parents. The weather was supposed to be fairly nice, and she wanted to have lunch in the park before heading to her house. I had agreed to it automatically because I just couldn't keep up with her energy in the mornings, and my mind was already racing with the what-if's and the should-I's. When she left toward her class, I took a few seconds to breathe. Was that level of wide-eyed devotion normal in a middle school girl? It was certainly more than I felt was appropriate. In the end, I shrugged. In the end, I didn't mind it all that much; it was nice to have someone focus all their attention on me whom I could actually touch...

Yuhei waited for me at the head of the stairs again. I frowned at him. His grin widened. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, passing him right on by. "You know, she's the cutest second-year girl," he mentioned after I left the steps. I didn't rise to the bait; just kept walking. "Everyone else is jealous." Of her? Of me? I didn't care. But my gait faltered. He noticed. "Her friends all stop to watch you go by," he continued, his voice growing closer. Stopping, I glared at him. A bark of laughter echoed in the spacious hall. "And don't you even pretend you don't notice."

"Yuhei," I muttered with forced civility, "What are you getting at." In the back of my mind, I had a feeling I already knew.

He pretended to examine his thumbnail. "What's in it for you?" After a few seconds of my baffled silence, he sighed. "Come on; between men, what kind of benefit do you get from dating Yukumi-chan?"

"Don't call her that," I snapped. Why did he even care? He raised his eyebrows.

"Whoa; possessive, much?" He dropped his arms, thrusting his hands into his pockets. His manner became much more casual. "You know, I dated Yukumi-chan-" I nearly bared my teeth at him and he acknowledged that with a thoughtful tilt of his head, "-last year."

"Funny, she never talks about you," I intoned dryly. I lost interest and continued on my way. Affronted, Yuhei dared to catch up.

"Listen—"

"Don't care to."

"You know why everyone's jealous, don't you?" He spoke in a low voice. "Cos it just burns them to think of it. But I know something they don't know." His smug grin etched into his face. "You'll never have her the way I did." Something about the way he said it raised the hair on my neck. "I gave her just a little taste, before we broke up. And she'll never admit it, but she's an addict as much as the rest of us."

"What the hell are you saying," I muttered, clenching my fists in my jacket pockets. Yuhei bobbed closer and leaned in, almost whispering.

"Yukumi-chan may be your first, but you certainly are far down the line from hers-"

I blinked, and the knuckles of my left hand stung like I'd struck something hard. Yuhei sat on the ground with blood leaking from his nose. The hall was dead silent; I hadn't perceived the pre-class murmur, but now I noticed its absence all too well. I shivered. Don't need this don't need this don't need this please don't let Dad find out but he will ohhhh shit...

"Don't you ever talk about her like that. Don't even think that way," I growled, straightening out of the fighting stance I'd fallen into from habit. Knuckles throbbing now. Yuhei wiped his nose across his hand. For his part, he looked shocked that I had actually hit him on school grounds.

"Or what? You'll just hit me again? Might as well; you can't dig yourself any deeper now your sensei knows about it."

A chill rushed across my shoulders, but I didn't budge until I heard Sensei summon me. Then I turned, anger deflating out of me to make room for defeat. "Sensei..." I acknowledged quietly; I had no excuse.

"Tanaka-san, go to the nurse and get that taken care of." A lot more than that first trickle of blood had started gushing down his face. Girls recoiled as he passed on his way to the school nurse's office. He muttered something about 'getting his nose broken by some pretty-boy' and my hackles rose again – I knew he had said that just to make my position even worse in Sensei's eyes.

"I didn't break it," I muttered bitterly. I would have heard it, felt it crunch under my fist. He would be screaming. That's what I was aiming for...

"Come with me, Minamoto-san," was all Sensei said. I followed him to the school principal's office, and there I waited. I told Inukai-sensei the simple truth – that I was defending Yukumi's honor. Wasn't that what the hero always did in those Western fairy tales? Although I didn't mention that last part – the last thing I needed to be labeled by anyone was "knight in shining armor."

"If Tanaka-san is harassing you, you need to report it; vigilantism does not work in academic settings. Or any setting. It disrupts order."

I nodded, knowing that I was more the villain than the hero according to rules of conduct. Clocking someone in the nose – no matter how they deserved it – was hardly appropriate retaliation to mere verbal ribbing. But I tried one last appeal: "Wouldn't you have done the same thing?"

Here Inukai-sensei paused – for that telling half-second – and then he suppressed a sigh. "The rules are very clear, Minamoto-san. And the policy as much so. I will have to call your parents and alert them to this incident." His worrying brow echoed my heart's freefall into my stomach. Don't need this don't need this I'm fucked.

"Inukai-sensei, please..." I didn't mean to beg; I shouldn't tell him that I was already grounded, that I had so much else going on, that the worst thing that could happen- but his reaching hand had already picked up the phone and he spoke to his secretary in words I didn't hear because my mind was whirling in panic. He motioned for me to remain seated. I had to hear him relay my actions (my acts of delinquency) to my father – at work...! After he finished, Inukai-sensei laced his fingers together on his desk.

"Your father says to wait for him to pick you up from school today."

I kept waiting for the floor to open up, to plummet chair and all into the center of the earth where I would never have to show my face to anyone again.

"You are dismissed to your class."

"Thank you, Inukai-sensei," I murmured with all due decorum, and I rose stiffly from my chair, felt the way cold sweat had set in the creases of my uniform. His sympathetic eyes landed on my back.

"Minamoto-san," I halted, twisting just a little to see him out the corner of my eye. "If it helps, I did the same thing, when I was about your age. And ten years later, that young lady became my wife." That made me hesitate longer at the door. I turned fully to face him. There was no sign of mockery or irony anywhere on him. Lost for any words, I nodded, and then I left, feeling that tiny bit lighter.

I tried to dwell on that sentiment, and not what awaited me at the end of classes.

On my way past the nurse's office, I caught a glimpse of Yuhei's blood-stained face through the horizontal blinds. A grim satisfaction pulsed through my veins, dying when his eyes flicked and locked on mine. 'Vengeance' spelled itself out in that brief eye contact. I turned my gaze away and continued on. I had accomplished what I needed to. And Dad would see reason, once I got a chance to explain things my way. There was nothing more to think about.

The story apparently hadn't reached Yukumi by the time she joined me for lunch. She sat next to me, smiling as purely as she always did. "Daddy told me he's looking forward to dinner on Saturday."

"That makes me nervous," I intoned, not sure which emotion to display for her. I was secretly pleased that my first thrown punch in years happened to place me in Inukai-sensei's good graces, but at the same time I worried that even given my reasoning, Yukumi and her family would not approve. Already I wondered if Yukumi should be dating someone as withdrawn and serious as me. She was only fourteen; shouldn't she be having fun with dating while there was no pressure for anything at all...?

Then again, I mused when she scooted a little closer before opening her bentou, Yukumi herself hadn't complained at all about my mannerisms. She never had anything but kind words to say. "Don't be," she said, "Daddy's a really nice man; he only looks a little intimidating. You'll see what I mean." She grinned wider as if remembering something funny. "I get the feeling dads are supposed to be a bit scary." I had once told her in passing that I used to be frightened of my father when I was a child. "I wonder if that's to scare intruding boys away from their daughters." She winked at my indignation.

"What if they don't have a daughter? Just a son?"

Yukumi took a nibble off her onigiri, lost in thought. "Hmm... I don't know. Here; want a sky bean?"

The rest of our lunchtime was punctuated with conversation in this way. Now and then I secretively glanced around for Yuhei, but I never saw him. I wondered what that meant – I definitely had not broken his nose.

At the end of the day, Yuhei was waiting for me, Yukumi in tow, when I left the building. Him, and some of his friends. I suppressed a groan. Yukumi squeezed my fingers tentatively when she noticed my posture shift. "Act natural," I whispered, uselessly. I knew they were going to stop us. I stubbornly kept my eyes forward. As long as there was a possibility that my father could see me, I was not about to raise another fist. And in all likelihood this could become a fistfight, even a melee if his mates joined in.

"Too bad Inukai-sensei plays favorites," Yuhei projected conversationally, his voice affected by the coagulated blood still in his nose. Yukumi stumbled a little beside me; I slowed while she regained her footing, checking her reaction. Confusion. "Didn't your boyfriend tell you, Yukumi?"

"Kouji?" she said softly, searching me, still confused. I gave the subtlest shake of the head I could manage. I kept walking.

"He could have broken my nose." It sounded like Yuhei regretted that I hadn't. Like he'd missed his shot at having a stronger case against me. What was his problem?!

"Still could," I replied coolly, not turning. And I panicked when I thought I felt Yukumi trying to withdraw her hand. "I'd rather not, though; there's a lady present."

"Kouji..."

Just as quietly, I answered "What?" She worried at her lip, not entirely able to look at me. I grimaced; her image of me just became that much more flawed. On the one hand, that was reality; on the other... "I'm sorry; I didn't want you to find out about it like this."

"What happened?"

"I'll tell you later. I don't want you to hear it from Yuhei. Come on." And she followed, readjusting her hand to latch onto mine more tightly.

"Okay; I'm trusting you on this."

"Minamoto, I'm talking to you!"

"Give it a rest, Yuhei!" I shouted back, finally turning to see him, his friends beginning to look uncertain at his conduct. "You were out of line and you know it. Let us be."

I didn't realize anything was wrong until Yukumi squeaked and wrenched her fingers away. Immediately after, a hard arm wrapped under my chin and jerked me back. I caught a fleeting glimpse of his shin and aimed a kick. Whoever it was, howled and released me in the same instant I saw stars. Coughing away the surprise, I straightened and shook my sight back into focus. My lip throbbed. Me against four, if all of them pitched in – not fair, and completely not convenient. I was aware of Yukumi standing to the side, utterly shocked at the turn of events. I'd already shifted into my fighting stance on instinct. "Kouji!" Yukumi yelped, "Don't!"

"Don't want to," I assured her, backing away, regularly glancing back at her to make sure none of them tried anything; they were all taking their time, though not sweetly. As I neared her, I reached out a hand. Her fingertips grazed it. "Go on." And I turned to walk forward, but I kept looking back over my shoulder. They were in no hurry; that worried me. If I could just get to Dad's car... After I reached the gates, though, they fell back, and I relaxed. Maybe my quick retaliation had given them second thoughts.

"Kouji, you're bleeding."

The inside of my lip felt raw; I'd been tasting copper but thinking nothing of it. I put my hand to my mouth and it came away smeared with blood. Whoever grabbed me snuck in a hit somehow. "Don't tell your dad about this. I already have to tell mine."

"You can clean up before he gets home-"

"That's his car, there."

Her face fell. "Oh." She attempted a farewell smile, but it came out as a grimace. "Good luck, I guess," she said meekly. I shrugged, not sure what I could say. Giving my hand a final squeeze, she turned on her way to the nearest bus stop. I looked back; Yuhei and his friends were far from the gate. I hoped they wouldn't get the bright idea to follow Yukumi where I couldn't keep an eye on her, but for all his perversion this morning, I had the feeling that wasn't Yuhei's style. In vain I attempted not to wonder if that might indeed be the method of his friends... The one certainly didn't mind attacking me while my back was turned.

I heard the passenger side door unlock for me when I approached it. I opened it and settled into the seat. Dad started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. With a cold pang I realized he had to be pissed. There were very few things that could drag him out of the office, and a single punch to one boy's face couldn't be one of them.

I expected a volcanic explosion, but Dad only sat stone-faced, guiding the car through the narrow streets to the freeway. Should I launch into a defense of my own behavior? Should I wait for him to say something? Why had he come to take me home when he knew I would be there when he got home anyway because that was my curfew, and I knew damn well not to break his curfew?

We had stopped at a traffic light for several seconds – no excuse of distracting scenery going by – when I inhaled to take a chance. Dad interrupted me.

"Kouji, I'm disappointed in you."

I gaped. "But-"

"You know better than that. I know I raised you better than that."

"You said not to hit girls; you didn't say any-"

"You are not a child anymore, Kouji; you were too young to understand why you shouldn't hit anyone at all. Now you're old enough you should know better ways to deal with people when you get angry." His lips tightened and my spirits sank rapidly. I had hoped... I knew he was going to be mad, but...

"He was insulting Yukumi," I said quietly. Dad sighed, and I hoped he was seeing reason.

"I understand your motivations, Kouji."

...but...

"But," (I winced) "That still doesn't excuse your behavior. You understand this goes on your school record, now, don't you?" I wanted to say I didn't care, so long as someone would just admit out loud, so I could hear, that I was in the right! But I couldn't. So all I would get was his understanding, but not his approval. I grit my teeth and fisted my hands in my lap. Wanted nothing more than to get out of this car. Dad sighed, running a hand through his hair. For two seconds, he looked old. Then it vanished. "I'm wondering now if I should even let you have dinner with her parents. If you still can't control yourself now..."

My blood ran cold when I realized what he was implying. "I would never hurt her!"

"You also said you would never pick fights-"

"Yuhei-"

"You let him provoke you. You said you would never cut again, too. Kouji, you've been breaking a lot of promises, and I really don't like where I see you going."

The car fell silent with the weight of his words. Even the engine seemed muted. I only just managed to keep my breathing even. Kept clenching my fists tighter and tighter until I thought the skin taut over my knuckles would split open. I still tasted blood on my lip.

I didn't even look at Satomi when she greeted me. Dad followed me in the door, then went to speak to her in a low voice. Great; just great. My morale dropped with each step up the incline; it sat on the soles of my feet when I reached the landing. I closed my bedroom door quietly, then collapsed in a heap on the floor next to my bed. I drew my knees up, gripped my head in my hands, but I was losing control of my breath. Why was this bothering me so much? I'd let Dad down before, he'd said things like this to me before – what was so different now that I couldn't stand to have his disapproval?

Disappointment. That was the word he'd used. 'Disapproval' was too mild for the way he'd turned his mouth down at me, watched me struggle not to lose my control in front of him with those impassive eyes that looked too much like Kouichi's- I shook my head hard enough to make myself dizzy. Anything but that, anything-

Don't do it.

I looked up, somehow instantaneously calm. Kouichi stood before me, wide-eyed and hands suspended uncertainly in front of his chest, fingers flexing around each other in panic. Don't do it, he repeated, kneeling down, reaching for me.

"Don't do what?" I asked mildly. His agitation increased, like he'd realized he may have just given me an idea that had not even crossed my mind. But I knew what he had been referring to all along. Already I was using my bed to push myself to my feet.

Kouji, don't! Kouichi was practically in hysterics now, grabbing for my sleeve. His hands passed right through me. I smirked. I ignored the stab of pain in my heart at his hurt expression. You know you'll regret it if you do.

"I have so many things I regret already," I replied in that light, mild voice, and I left my room behind. "What's one more?"

Kouji, please, listen to me now! He was screaming loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. I paused at the landing; Dad and Satomi didn't seem to have heard. I leered at my brother's ghost.

"Or what?" I asked, biting on the words as they left. Kouichi looked down the stairs and paled, shuddering. Remembering how he died. I gripped the banisters and leaned forward, hanging off of them. Kouichi whined and hyperventilated, and I knew he was helpless to stop me if I let go. A dirty triumph surged through me; I liked having this power over him. Being incorporeal wasn't such a hot setup after all, now was it? I pulled myself back upright on the landing and locked eyes with him. Tears flooded down his face.

Please, Otouto-kun, he gasped, Don't.

For the second time that day, someone begged me not to do something; I scowled. I turned on my heel for the bathroom, recounting everything that had happened that day, the past month, my entire life. I sat on the rim of the tub with the razor – couldn't remember picking it up. I rolled up my sleeve to a looping soundtrack of Kouichi pleading at me. "Oh, Kouichi," I said, turning the razor to watch the light glint off the blade, "what are you going to do? It's not like you can stop me."

The blade sliced into my skin (No!), hot and sharp and the way I always remembered it. Light burst across my vision, wiping out everything into a white haze for barely a second. I blinked, ripped into shock. I still looked at my wrist. My stomach became ice. It looked like every scar I ever sustained had been opened up, uncountable hairlines of blood crisscrossing over the mangled skin. The razor clattered onto the floor. My hands shook. I looked up to the doorway; Kouichi was gone. I couldn't even feel his presence. He was just gone. My breath fell out in short, harsh bursts, and I stuck my fist in my mouth to quiet it. Still staring wide-eyed at my wrist, skin angry red and inflamed. And it hurt. Tears sprang to my eyes. Oh, God, it stung. I wanted to throw up. But I could barely move.

"Kouichi, I'm so sorry."

Nothing. I was alone. Completely.

Oh, Kouji... I'm gonna need to feed you a whole plate of cookies when we're done here, aren't I?

Uh, moar filler, I guess? I mean, stuff happens, but not much... I wonder if I need to stop being my own worst critic...

Um, also, this is where things start to get a bit interesting, if you haven't picked up on that already. I hope I do right by this...

There are some things about this chapter that I'm not happy with, and you can prolly tell what they are, but I don't want to mess with it any more. It's not like I'm getting paid to do this, so I'm not going to let myself be too bothered.

Thank you for reading. The next chapter is in the queue, so perhaps I'll have that up in the next couple of days...