Strange realities

by SoraTakinouchi

The world can change in a moment, the realities can feel surreal, certainities vieled by uncertainities. Yamato Ishida learned all that the hard way. And Sora Takenouchi was way ahead him in that. A Sorato fanfiction. Complete

11. Chapter XI: The End-One Way Or Another

Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.

Chapter XI: The End-One Way or Another

How often had she passed blind people, deaf people, dumb people and felt sympathy for them but never more than that. She had stared at them for a while, with pity in her eyes, grateful that it was them and not her. She had helped them, of course, whenever she could. Helped a dumb person in finding his way, a blind across the street but that's all. Of course she never tried to give them too much attention because it might looked to them that she is doing so just because they are disable and though that would be the truth, she never wanted them to feel pity for themselves too when the whole world is already doing the job full on.

But never once did she stopped too long to think how the world looked to them, what they feel. "Bad" was the word that always came to her mind and that felt like a lame excuse of a tired-out joke now. It was not the word. Blood-boiling hatred, bone-crushing fear, destructive frustration - yeah, that's more like it. That's how it was for them. Always. Day after day. They sleep with it and wake up with it and walk around with it like a person you hate too much but can't stop him from being by your side all the time because he is stronger than you. There is no way to slip away because he is much cleverer than you. And you can never expect him to help you, to do you a favor because he is too mean for you. He is Fate.

Sora never imagined learning all this the "hard" way, the first hand experience way. What it feels like to not being able to see; utter blackness, darkness, abyss. It's amazing how can you describe a single color in so many ways and still could not define it completely. There's a reason why black is the color associated with misery and not any other color. She now understood. Because it represent blindness, from happiness, from hope, from any positivity. It represents the only color blinds are able to see and not see too. Because they never knew any colors in the first place and you never actually "see" something until you have seen its opposite. You never see the sky until you have passed a few years of your life being away from it. You are never grateful of light until you have experienced utter darkness. Like she was experiencing. And she will forever be grateful for light if she ever sees it again.

And then there was the part about not being able to talk, the reason of her tears, her frustration. To be surrounded by friends and her parents and listen to them and yearn to say something and not being able to do so. How do dumb people express their emotions, then? She wondered all the time now. Sign language couldn't be enough when you are frustrated to death. How do you say "Why can't I just die instead of being trapped in this hell hole of reality?" in sign language? Even if there's a way to express this, there's no way to make others realize just how much frustration is pushed against it without the gritting of teeth, rising voice and fair amount of growling. She treasured it now. Every moment of free laughter, of quirky comebacks, of playful wink and sarcastic smirks, she treasured it now. As if they would be the last things she could take from this world. The last thing the world had to offer without warning. She tried to remember her last happy time, trying to think back whether she had any hint then that it would be her last smile, whether there was a cold feeling in her pit then that it's soon gonna be over, like the one she had now all the time.

In a flash she remembered her mother's face, standing in her doorway, smiling at her enthusiasm as she talked excitedly about something. What was she so excited about? She tried to remember the last of the details, repeating again and again the same morning but there was no answer.

What made me so excited that I . . . .

She felt a cold feeling washing over her as she remembered the missed footing, the widening of her eyes, one less heart beat and the utter fear that gripped her mind as she fall down the stairs, feeling nothing, no pain, no bruise. Just seeing the jumble of colors as the world around her came rolling down, like a giant snow ball. She felt the pain later, lots of it too, when she finally came to stop a few feet away from the stairs. In her broken body.

But for the complete injustice and lack of any sanity, she could not remember what was she so excited about? In other words, she could not understand what brought her here. And it was frustrating, like not knowing why were you borne or why are you playing soccer. Those idiotic "has-to-happen-this-way" things that never failed to infuriate her.

Why? What? How?

She wanted some answers if that's the last thing that she would ever get. She had to know.

She tried to think a little more back, looking for some clue. There was another source of excitement; Taichi's soccer match. I never get to know if they won the final, she thought unbelievingly.

She remembered the match, then her anger about something at Taichi and Yamato; she didn't remember exactly what. Then the walk with Yamato. Her building.

She remembered now - his face as he stared at her. There was something on his face that had startled her. Some feeling that was too hard to explain but that made her hands tingle. If she had not smiled then, trying to dismiss it, she might have walked back to him. Yamato's returning smile was forced yet soft.

Did he have any idea that this is about to happen? Was that the reason he was looking at me like - like that?

There was no way of knowing it and going back in memories was not helping.

How - how bastard-ly hateful it is that I can't remember the very reason of my excitement, the source of my carelessness that got me here? It must have been very important then but now seemed to be the least important thing as compared to Taichi's match and Yamato's smile. Ironic, that the important moments in my life are the ones belonging to others.

The thought of Yamato led her to last night when Yamato had asked her to "think about us someday". The anger that coursed through her body then left her feeling even more paralyzed.

How dare he! How dare he accuse me like that? What did he know how am I holding to my sanity? Holding to my life, even though I am not afraid to die. For them, for my parents and friends. How dare he think it's not the thought of their hopes and their faces that's forcing me to live this life, this paralyzed piece of junk, when all I want is to give up, really?

The anger and frustration burned her veins, leaving her even more exhausted. Then there it was the memory of Yamato's soft kiss, his apology. She felt a tingle in her palms. Yamato. Why would he do that? Was it because he was feeling sorry for me? But it felt something more than that when he had apologized, his voice torn with regret. Could he have known how his words felt to me? She knew something had changed between the two of them last night - a strong and firm change. She wasn't sure whether she was suppose to like the change or not, but the change had been made. It could not be undone without some damage inflicted first.

The old Sora would have taken a deep breath at this point. She was so tired. So very very tired. It's such a long time too. Almost seven months. She couldn't take any more of this. It's getting harder by each passing day. And she really wanted all of them to give up on her, to let her go easy, to free her. Please, she wanted to beg, if you guys really love me, please, let me go. You have no idea what it's like, so please!

It was like hanging on something with just her fingertips and now her arms have started to ache badly, like they would come out of their sockets if she held on any longer. She was way too tired to care what will happen if she let go of it.

She really just wanted to let go.

x-x-x

Takeru stared at his brother, his eyes moving from side to side as Yamato paced the length of room. There was no sense in asking what's wrong because he would just day "Nothing." and Takeru was sure as hell that something is wrong if not everything. So he stared at his brother quietly.

"I think you have burned enough calories." he said after watching patiently for another fifteen minutes.

Yamato's reply was a "hmm" because he didn't really hear what his brother was saying.

Takeru decided to approach from another point, "Have you visited Sora today?"

Yamato glanced at him absentmindedly, as if the name sort of struck his mind oddly, "Uh, no." he said, quick yet faint.

"She didn't cry today."

"Good." he really was too tensed to respond any more than that.

"Will you later?"

"Um, no I think."

"That would be the first." It seemed to pause him in his tracks for a second.

"I have to go somewhere."

"Oh."

Takeru gave up, then.

"I should go now."

"Yeah, bye." abrupt farewell. Takeru didn't mind. He actually felt like smiling at his brother's nervousness.

"Bye." he left the house, shaking his head. His brother can be so stubborn sometimes; hiding his problems from his "little brother" who's not so little anymore.

Yamato stared at the door, recently closed by his brother, silently. The whole idea of taking Yuki on a dinner had started to feel like utterly idiotic and very spur-of-the-moment-decision-ic. Something that could only be expected by an emotional, easily convinced jerk but not by Yamato Ishida and he had done it. Now all he had to do is to face it.

I am not even sure if Sora cares about me being nice to Yuki anymore. Coma must have shifted her priorities. For all I know, she doesn't even give a thought about it. How could I imagine this would please her in some way?

But it was too late, anyway. It was six p.m and if he wanted to get there in time, he had to leave his house, like, now.

With a heavy sigh he snatched his jacket from the back of his chair, gave a long look to his room and left.

x-x-x

"Hey kid! Mom is asking what kind of pizza you want." a tall boy, with short black hair and twinkling green eyes asked Yuki.

Yuki looked up at him absentmindedly, lost in her own thought.

"Huh?" she managed to say.

Zack rolled his eyes and waved a hand in front of her face, "Earth to, squirt. I'm asking about pizza."

Yuki shook her head slightly, "I am not gonna have dinner at home today. I, uh, I am invited by a friend. I already told Mom. I think, um, she forgot."

Zack's eyebrows extended upwards, a slow grin forming on his lips, "A guy friend? Or a lady friend?"

Yuki blushed, "None of your business." She stood up quickly and turned her back on him, rummaging in her cupboard.

"Ha! I will take that as a guy friend." Zack grinned mischievously, "Heyyy Mooom!" he called out as he ran out of her room, "Did you know that squirt . . ."

Yuki smiled reluctantly at her brother's theatrics. He really was quite a nice big brother all things considered, a bit over protective sometimes though he tried to suppress that side as well as he can. All her childhood was shadowed by him by her side, trying to get other kids to be friends with her, taking long walks whenever she was feeling lonely, cracking jokes to make her laugh when she was depressed. His own social circle was the biggest she had ever seen and most of them treated her like a cute, little pet, never annoyed by her presence besides her brother, rather they always tried to make her tell any embarrassing childhood stories on Zack. Yuki, thanks to her shyness, never managed to spill too many beans.

Then there was a change in her life when she was chosen to be a digidestined. The accidents that brought her in knowledge of other digidestines were huge (literally speaking) and quite terrifying, taking away a part of herself that was too dependent on her brother, giving her a slightly independent streak. She had to keep it a secret at first until Zack grew too suspicious and too obsessed with her repetitive missed-outs from her bed at night. When he found out though, he was quite pissed out and annoyed at first both at the idea of someone as meek as Yuki getting to be a digidestined and not him and also that she got independent enough to keep secrets from him and to save the world without needing his help. With time, though, it became clear that Yuki had quite a nice, more casual side of her that came out as she started to make her own decisions and Zack finally seemed to accept that change if it means Yuki was happier and enjoying her life as a digidestined which, by the side of all the risks she went into, all the life-threatening situations she had to squeeze through, she was.

Yuki stared in the mirror as she quickly pulled her long, black hair back with barrettes, half of them covering both her shoulders. Aside from changing her trademark hair style of ponytail, she had not gone through too many pains to get ready for that dinner. She was not excited or feeling anything special. She was just being realistic. Yamato Ishida had not invited her to dinner for her.

Her quiet nature might have many faults, her shyness might push her back in a crowd, but one thing she came to know about herself thanks to her brother acknowledging it first, was that she had a very sharp and precise observation. By staying quiet she never was simply afraid to talk or flustered of others' presence, she was also observing everyone and that sometimes account for her general absentmindedness of their superficial words when she could too well see that they didn't mean those words.

And so, she had no doubt as to think that Yamato Ishida was interested in her and that her efforts to make him notice her (though there never really was any conscious effort) had not gone to vain. No, that certainly was not the case. Yamato had invited her and she had noticed his reluctance and despair and though it hurt her feelings, she was determined to find out the reason. And that really was it all.

She looked once again at her reflection, wearing a simple white skirt and a pink T-shirt, and left the room.

"Ok, Mom. I am leaving." she said poking her head in the kitchen.

"Not later than ten, ok?" her Mom said.

"Probably even sooner. It's within walking distance."

"Are you gonna walk there alone?" Zack asked, slightly concerned.

"Yes."

"Mom, she shouldn't go -"

"No, it's ok." Yuki interjected, "It's less than five minutes away."

"Fine, honey, you should go now." her mother nodded her approval, "Good bye. Have a nice dinner."

"Bye, Mom." Yuki left the house, relieved for not having to be walked by her big brother to her first "date" or more precisely, first dinner with a boy who didn't actually like her.

x-x-x

Yamato sat at a corner table, his ankles crossed under the table, legs stretched out. It was 7:05 p.m and he was expecting Yuki soon.

The restaurant he chose was a neat one without being too expensively flashy or too poorly shabby. He had came to this side of town only once with his band mates, for a small concert, and they had explored the area quite well.

He straightened up, pulling his legs back, as he spotted Yuki coming towards him. He took a deep breath of relief to see that she had not dressed with much effort because he, too, was wearing a casual shirt and jeans and also because that might meant she is not taking it seriously which was more than fine with him.

"Um, hi." Yuki said quietly as she took the seat opposite him, placing her purse on the table.

"Hi." Yamato replied. There was silence for few minutes as both of them looked around the restaurant at various people. Yamato cleared his throat.

"How are you?"

"Fine. And you?"

"I'm fine, thank you." Yamato took a deep breath, "Hmm. Uh, well. I think I should apologize for my behavior with you. I was, as Sora told me then, quite rude to you before." he had to get over with it before anything else.

Yuki looked slightly surprised as she carefully measured his expression. He was not meeting her eyes; instead he was staring out the glass wall at the cars in the parking. Clearly, he was reluctant to apologize, as egoistic as he was.

"Uh, right. Okay." she mumbled.

"Sora wanted me to treat you nicely because she thought - er - thinks of you as her friend." Yamato said, now staring at his crossed fingers in front of him, "Uh, I think I was angry with her for letting you in, well, in our group." And also because I thought she was doing it to make me do exactly what I'm doing now, "Because, um frankly, I am a bit, what do you say, uncomfortable with new people mixing with my old group."

"Oh." Yuki was too preoccupied by his expressions and tone to come with a better response.

"So, yeah, I uh treated you badly. And I had no right to do so. And for that I must apologize." he finished, took a deep breath and once again started looking out the glass wall.

"Right." Yuki said softly as she looked away from his face.

Another period of silence made its way between them.

"Um, how is your music going on?" Yuki asked to break the awkwardness.

Yamato nodded slightly, "Good. It's going good." he chuckled as he fumbled with a corner of napkin, "Even though Sora would have thought that it was, um, sort of irresponsible of me to left the practice for few weeks right after her coma but we are doing fine."

"You left the music?" Yuki was unable to stop herself.

Yamato glanced at her sharply, then looked down at his fingers again, "Yeah, for few weeks."

Flustered by his quick glance, she struggled with her curiosity but it was in vain.

"May I ask why?" she asked after few moments of silence.

Yamato took a deep breath and stared out the glass wall again, not really replying. Yuki stared at him for a while and just when she thought he was not going to reply, he said quickly and in a low voice, "I think no one could really concentrate with their best friend in such a state."

"Oh." Inwardly, Yuki was flipping through various meanings of the word "best friend". She wondered if Taichi went through same situation or whether it's just the difference of their personalities or whether there's a different perspective involved or maybe . . .

"How is your tennis going?" Yamato asked clearly, as Yuki observed, out of courtesy.

"It's fine." Yuki replied quietly, staring out the glass wall too.

Just then the waiter arrived and they selected their dishes. He nodded and walked away.

"Did you," Yamato began hesitantly, "Um, did your tennis - no forget it."

Yuki stared at him uncomprehendingly, clearly confused by his words.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing." Yamato said too quickly, "It's nothing."

"Something about my tennis?" Yuki pressed.

"No, it's just, well, it's really nothing."

"You can ask if it had to do with tennis." Yuki encouraged him and found herself in awe of how flustered Yamato Ishida looked then. Worse than me.

"No, of course, um, no. It's not exactly - well, I was wondering if you and your tennis friends feel something different now. You know, with Sora not there and it really - no it's stupid. Just forget it." Yamato was increasingly moving towards desperation. Not on this "date", but in real. He could not believe what he was asking her. She is not a part of us. She is not as close to her as we are. She can never -

"I know what you mean." Yuki began quietly, in an almost-whisper, "We think that the pain we feel is big enough to . . . to swallow everyone, to make them feel the same. And yet still, we just . . . we are just too egoistic to believe that anyone can feel as much as we can. That anyone can be as close to her as we are. That's why you left the question incomplete. Because you don't think they - or maybe me, too - you don't think we can feel as much bad about Sora and her illness as you do. And maybe it's true." she looked at him and for once he was looking at her too, too shocked of her words to ignore her presence. How did she know?

The waiter arrived then, with their order. He promptly arranged everything in front of them.

"Anything else, sir?"

Yamato shook his head as he stared blankly at the dinner. Yuki slowly started to arrange a few things on her plate, her mind preoccupied. The waiter left them.

"I didn't mean to . . . I mean -" Yamato mumbled.

"No, no." Yuki said quickly, "You are right to think that. It's, uh, very natural. And mostly it's true, too." It was amazing the speed with which she was gaining confidence in front of Yamato when he was losing it entirely.

"But, I guess, no one has a right to -" Yamato tried again. There was no doubt in his mind that anyone could feel as much pain with Sora's absence as they can, but he didn't want to say it aloud and pretend to be important.

Yuki smiled slightly and shook her head, "You guys know her for much longer than I or anyone in the team knows her. Especially me." Yamato nodded, eating slowly, "But just so you know, it's not the same without her in the team either."

Yamato raised his head and look at her thoughtfully. She went on, swallowing the small amount of food, "I don't know if Sora ever told you, but she made this um sort of, uh, ritual. Before starting practice. We all sort of huddle around and, er, clap each other on backs. Really hard. Well, not too hard but hard enough to sting a little. And I don't know why, but it makes us laugh. She started it. And we still do it. But it's strange without her. And nobody laugh anymore."

Yamato forgot to eat, "She . . . never told me."

Yuki shrugged, "It was just a little thing. She might not think it important enough."

"I see." They finished their dinner in silence, then. Both lost in their own thoughts.

This might be the first "date" of its kind where both of us are talking about another girl and none of us even mind it, Yuki thought, amused.

So everyone feels her absence, but they don't show it much. I wonder if that's the case with her art friends too, Yamato thought. But how long can you go with missing a person? Eventually, you have to let her go. Unless you are as close to her as we are.

What was completely an absurdity and an impossible thought for Yamato Ishida was the fact that anyone can miss Sora just as much as they do. No matter how he turned it round, he just could not accept that anyone besides them will stay with Sora until the end, and even though he thought he wanted it to be true, but it was impossible for him to admit that anyone besides them could feel her absence as much as they do.

As they finished their dinner and sipped their drinks, Yuki cleared her throat and leaned a little forward.

"Um, will you tell me now, why did you, uh, invited me to dinner tonight?" she asked hesitantly.

Yamato looked at her in alarm; there was no answer to that. Should he tell her the truth? That he brought her here in hopes of making Sora happy enough to open her eyes? Or would that hurt her feelings? And as much as he didn't really "like" her, he thought she was a good person, just as Sora said, and deserved to have her feelings respected.

"I don't know." he whispered lamely.

Yuki stared at him a moment longer then looked away. Fine, then. I will guess on my own.

She recalled all their conversation up till now and realized that there was no topic but that of Sora between them. Apparently, Yamato missed her enough to talk about her with Yuki, a person he never liked to consider even as a teammate. Why, why did he ask her for dinner, then?

She tried to recall from a bit earlier. There was tennis match where he asked her. Before that was their visit to hospital and Mimi and Piyomon. Piyomon. Something Taichi did to make Sora happy. With a flash she remembered Sora dragging the chair beside Yamato the day she invited her over Chosen Corner. Sora's insistence that she can talk in front of Yamato. Sora's glare as Yamato didn't replied to her query about his digimon. The visible difference in Yamato's attitude on the day of match, the halfway decent reply.

Is this . . . ? Is this Yamato's way of making Sora happy? Is this . . . Oh my God! This is what Sora wanted from him? Yuki felt numb with shock. It was not that she expected him to like her or anything. But he was doing this as a burden. As a duty. Hence, the hesitation. And, hence the apology.

"Sora wanted this, right?" she asked after she got over her shock.

Yamato stared at her, stunned. Was it that obvious?

"Am I right?" Yuki insisted.

"Yes." he admitted after a while.

Yuki felt strange sort of happiness at reading Yamato's shadowy brain. She nodded slowly, "I thought so, too."

Yamato took a deep breath and looked at his watch. 8:30 p.m.

"I think we should go." he said as politely as he can. He had no idea how had his confession affected her and he didn't want to do anymore damage.

"Sure." Yuki said pleasantly. In real, she was not at all hurt or disappointed. She was, strangely, feeling lighter all of a sudden. They both stood up.

As they exit the restaurant, Yamato turned towards her, "How far is your place?"

"Oh, not far. Just five minutes' walk, really." Yuki assured.

"It's dark." Yamato said.

Yuki was reminded of Zack instantly, "Its fine. I can go."

Yamato was reminded of Sora. A sad look came in his eyes as he shook his head, "No, I'm gonna walk you to your place."

"Yamato, really. There -"

"Come on." Yamato cut in firmly. Yuki shrugged and started walking. Yamato fell in step beside her.

The five minute walk was completely silent but not as comfortable as it always had been with Sora. With her, the silence felt like connecting even strongly. With Yuki, it was awkward. Also, he was wary of saying anything in case she might get too much information. He was feeling slightly insecure.

They soon came to a stop outside a single-story, white and brown house.

"That's my house," Yuki informed him, "Thank you for, um, walking me home."

"It's okay." Yamato said distantly, mentally calculating the time it would take him to get to his home. Fortunately, Yuki's house was closer to bus stop than the restaurant.

"Um, Yamato?" Yuki called hesitantly, not sure if it was her place to say that, "I, uh, noticed something today. When, um, you were talking about Sora, and also, uh, I noticed that, um over the months I have observed that, uh, you, actually, you were affected the most by her illness." Yuki looked over her shoulder towards her house, rubbing her arm nervously.

"What- what are you trying to say?" Yamato asked, definitely confused.

"Like I said, you invited me to dinner because of, um, Sora. And really, I mean, I am grateful, and uh, really nice of you, but I am sorry to, um, tell you that I noticed a lot of new things tonight, uh, about you, actually."

Yamato kept staring at her, his eyes slightly narrowed in confusion.

"I - I think - please don't feel any, um, but really. I think you think of Sora as, uh, how to say it," Yuki bit her lower lip in agitation, "As more than a friend. Um, I mean to say . . . you - you like Sora."

Yamato's eyes widened slightly as her words hit him squarely.

"What - how - what are you . . . " he tried to make sense of her words. More than friends? She is my best friend. I can't . . . I won't . . .

Yet, somehow, he was suddenly feeling cold. He pressed his lips tightly together. The straight denial failed to escape his lips.

Yuki looked away from his pale face and wide eyes to the far off running cars, her eyes alighted with their headlights, "And, um, Yamato? You should tell her. You should tell Sora how you feel about her." she pushed out her lips in a circle and exhaled loudly, her cheeks puffing out, finally having said what she wanted.

"Yuki, I - I don't think you - " Yamato was getting numb with shock.

"Please don't try to say that I am mistaken. Because I am not." Yuki was feeling oddly brave now. She had glimpsed through cold Yamato. Yes, she was definitely feeling higher.

Yamato looked around him, his burrows frowning, his eyes wide with disbelief. How can Yuki - what made her think that?

"You should go now. It's getting late." Yuki said her voice low and gentle. Yamato stared at her in confusion.

"Yeah. Yeah, right. I should go. Right." he said distractedly.

"I am, um, sorry. But I, uh, thought you were trying to ignore it. And you should not, you know." Yuki looked at him in concern.

"I don't really think . . . I should go now. Bye."

"Good night."

Yamato turned around and left immediately, suddenly feeling tired.

x-x-x

Yamato entered his room and closed the door behind him. He didn't need to, actually. There was no one else in the house. But he did anyway. To protect himself. To enclose himself in four walls, completely closed, without a crack of air. He leaned against the door, breathing hard. He was in daze of what happened that day, of Yuki's suggestion mainly. He suddenly felt as if he had been walking for a long time and was in desperate need of rest.

His legs stumbled towards bed as he almost fell down on it.

Fighting off the rush of thoughts that tried to occupy his mind once again, he looked around in alarm to find something, some way to distract himself. A few science magazines were scattered around on his bed but he knew they could not keep his mind busy enough. He took out his cell phone, his fingers trembling as he sensed the threat of flashbacks nearby.

I need to call Takeru, he thought with clenched teeth.

Just as he typed "Take" in his contact list, the name of Takenouchi Sora was there, just above Takeru. His fingers went numb on the key pad as he stared at it, his mind blank of all thoughts. The day came crashing down on him. His efforts to distraction were no longer required.

Takenouchi Sora.

Takenouchi Sora.

The name seemed to be everywhere.

Takenouchi Sora.

He feared if he looked up from his cell phone, it would be all over the walls of his room.

Takenouchi Sora.

Without any second thoughts he punched the call button and saw numbly as it went. He had to talk to her. He had to tell her about everything that happened to him today, yesterday, in the last few months. He had to hear her voice, her soothing words, her infectious laughter that never failed to make him laugh too. He had to wake up from this twisted dream like reality. He imagined telling her what he saw in that dream.

"Sora, I saw that you were in coma. For a long time. Like six or seven months. And it was really depressing."

He imagined her surprise, then her laughter as she dismissed it simply as a dream. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips just as the call was disconnected because her cell phone was off for months now. His smile disappeared.

With a sudden roar of rage, he flung the cell phone across the room. It hit the wall and crash down in several pieces. One more victim of a step taken wrongly by Sora Takenouchi.

He was not waking up from this dream, yet.

He threw the magazines at the walls too, there pages fluttering helplessly as they tried to change course. He pulled his bag from his side table and threw it away too, his books piling out neatly. It infuriated him even more.

He walked with long strides towards his book case, ready to pull the books neatly arranged down to the floor as well. But something seemed to hold his feet. He came to an abrupt halt.

There, propped on his books was a cap. White cap.

He remembered that cap sitting snugly on auburn hair, the hood pulled a little lower. He remembered the warm feeling of her face against his shoulder, the soft weight of her body leaning against his as she slept. He remembered sleep-filled eyes, slightly red rimmed which made her eyes color even redder. He remembered all this and his rage melted. He had put her cap on his head when he was trying to wake her up. He had gone to his home wearing it. When he had finally pulled it off, he had realized that he had forgotten to give it to her and decided to give her the next morning. But he forgot in the morning. He had forgotten and there was so much blood.

Blood of Sora. Spread all over the floor. Someone had walked in it, he remembered the bloodied footsteps. Someone who returned her bag to the apartment. Some neighbor, most likely.

But it was, all of it, Sora's blood. And he didn't know it then; the first time he saw it. He remembered his horror, his dread. And Sora went to coma because of that blood on the floor and not in her body, because she lost too much blood.

He reached out and pick up the cap. It was soft and worn out like most of Sora's things. She is always more comfortable with old things than new ones. Her old bag. Old sneakers. Old jeans. Old jacket.

Sora's blood.

Sora's number.

Sora's cap.

Yuki's observation.

Yamato finally broke down. Not like in the gym with Taichi. It was real this time. He started crying for the first time in several years, for the first time since Sora went in coma. Really cry. There were tears going down his face. His breath was coming out in racking sobs, shaking his body. He sank to his knees against his bed, too weighed down by the emotions. His hand closed into a fist around the cap.

Sora.

He was sobbing with clenched teeth but his gasping, tattered voice escaped anyway.

Why? Why did you have to take that step? Why won't you wake up? Why? Just why?

And Yuki's words made their way to home. Sora had long ceased to be "just" a friend for him. She had become more than a friend to him. His true half. Someone whom he sees beside himself all through his life even though he was just starting it. Someone he would never let go. Someone whom he loves just as much as he loves Takeru but differently. Someone he needed. Now. But that someone was in coma for almost seven months now. Blind to him, to her own life, to them.

The realization broke him further. In sharp, jagged pieces that hurt at odd places. His hand. His shoulder. His forehead. Sora's touch seemed to come back to life all of a sudden. It was everywhere.

She was the only one to support his decision to leave the group in the Digital world. She tried to console him when Hikari was taken away and he was blaming himself. He had valued her presence then, too. Because she understood him in ways anyone else failed to do. He remembered how she always managed to get the hidden meaning of his coveted words, how she was always able to judge his moods.

And he was there for her, too. The dark cave he jumped in to save her. He remembered the dread that filled him at the mere thought of Sora surrounded by darkness, unprotected. He would not let her go alone at night. The very idea horrified him.

And, yet, it took so long for him to piece out the puzzle. It took so long for him to accept this reality; so strange from the point of view of old Yamato but not at all for this one.

He was in love with Sora Takenouchi.

The words felt strange to his mind but not the feeling. He was finally being honest to himself, facing his true feelings.

Staring at the cap absentmindedly, he wondered why did it take so long for him to realize this. How he, Yamato Ishida, always so perceptive and keen when it comes to emotions and feelings, failed to look inside him?

And now that he did, it's too late. Sora could die any moment; such fine was the thread connecting her to life and death at the same time. She was somewhere in-between; trapped.

The re-realization of Sora's illness further tore at the threads of his already raw feelings, clawing at them and he started crying again.

Yamato Ishida cried a lot that night.

x-x-x

The house was so silent that it was almost weird. Taichi was lying on the couch in the living room, flipping away on channels, not finding anything to catch his interest. His parents were gone to visit his aunt and Hikari was on a, what he believed to be, "study date" with Takeru.

Finally annoyed, he switched off the TV and slid the control on the table. He strolled over to his room, staring blankly around and his gaze fell on a corner of the book sticking out of a drawer not properly shut.

"Why can't she ever close it pro -" he muttered as he pulled the drawer open to close it properly but paused as he noticed what that book was. It was a photograph album Taichi had organized with Sora and Yamato over the years. Taichi had no doubt that Hikari had been through it to see Sora's pictures. He opened it randomly from the middle and there she was, amazingly smiling, looking more alive than she was now. It was a picture with the soccer team, maybe four years earlier, in their dressing room. Everyone had just returned from the practice and they had been exhausted. Taichi noted himself sprawled on a couch, a wet cloth over his forehead. Sora was perched at the end of the table, a cold water bottle in her hand, laughing with two other teammates. Her eyes held the same bright shine of laughter that he had seen on countless occasions.

It was strange. Very strange. He had been seeing Sora's face expressionless for such a long time that now remembering the play of excitement across her features was utterly strange. Like it was someone else in the picture and some entirely different person at the hospital. A wave of nostalgia washed over Taichi. He stood up and walked back in the living room, the album clutched in his hand.

He started from the first page, their embarrassing childhood pictures - courtesy of his mother and Mrs. Takenouchi from when the two mothers used to take them out to park every afternoon. There they were - making a mound of sand that must be their idea of a sand castle. Then, Sora sliding down the slide, her hands stretched up in the air, laughing, and Taichi standing on top of the slide. Then there they were - and Koushiro standing by - on a see saw, their hair quite muddy, fresh stains of mud on their clothes. Then, Taichi, Sora and Koushiro, playing soccer with their pudgy legs. Lots of pictures of them playing soccer passed by, as they grew up. Koushiro disappeared, around time he must have realized his passion lies in computer. Maybe in first grade. The baby pictures ended, taking a quarter of the album. Then there were few class photos, Sora always smiling at the camera and Taichi grinning beside her. Some pictures from soccer matches. Sora arms in arms with her various teammates, sometimes sticking two fingers from behind their heads. There was one picture in which Taichi and Sora both were holding soccer balls in one arm and sticking two fingers from behind each other with the other. None of them knew then that the other was doing the same and they had laughed hysterically when they had seen the picture.

Soon he hit the photos from their fifth grade, before and after their adventure, visibly differentiated. Their crowd of friends had drastically changed in "after adventure" pictures. There were Yamato, Mimi, Jyou, Koushiro, Hikari and Takeru there, who had been completely absent in "before adventure" ones. There was a photo of the trio with Sora standing between Yamato and Taichi, her arms around their shoulders, a much serene and gentle smile on her face than that of her childhood. The adventure had somewhat sobered them up. In no pictures was Sora grinning so freely after that. A gentle smile was all that alighted her face, softening the color of her eyes.

They grew up as the album preceded, their pictures getting fewer and fewer for each year of their life as they got busy with other things. Only on certain marked events were they able to get a few pictures - Christmas, their adventure anniversary, yearbook photos, Mimi's welcome party and other such events. Taichi stared at one such picture of Sora - one of the most recent ones - at a Thanksgiving party last year at Takeru's house. Sora was stuffing a large piece of turkey in Yamato's mouth - aftermath of a dare match Yamato was beaten at. Yamato was barely able to get his mouth around the piece, laughing as hard as he was, as everyone urged Sora on. Mimi was in America and Hikari was taking the picture, he remembered.

Taichi stroked Sora's face fondly as his smile faded away, leaving him hollow. He closed the album - still a few pages short of ending - and stared at the table. It had been so long since he had last seen Sora's smile, last heard her voice, that the Sora in pictures felt more real.

Taichi lie down again on the couch, thinking hard. What goes on in Sora's mind? How does she remember these things? How does she feel about them? About her friends, parents, all wanting her to wake up. Does she feel pressurized? Irritated? Or glad to have us care for her? Does it encourage her?

Then another thought occurred to his mind and he shifted a little to his side, agitated. What if Sora can't wake up? What if she tries as hard as she can but she just can't? What does she think of us then? Will we be considered pushy? Heartless? For not understanding that she just can't?

And more importantly, considering she really can't wake up, what would she want us to do?

Taichi turned on his side, his fingers stroking the fine threads of couch, his brow furrowed. What would I do in such a condition? What would I want if our positions are to be reversed and I'm the one in coma? He actually closed his eyes and became still to get the idea. The darkness behind his eyelids and silence of the house surrounding him, he breathed slowly, trying to move as less as possible.

He was suddenly aware of the roughness of the couch fabric beneath his fingers that he had never noticed before. As his body relaxed, he could feel several broken springs in the couch and all of a sudden the couch wasn't as comfortable as before. He tried to forget the physical discomfort to imagine being in the hospital, hearing his friends' voices telling him he will do just fine, he will win this time too, he is strong enough to fight it. Hearing them - he imagined - for a long period of time. Repetitively. Day after day. And yet, unable to open his eyes, to win the battle his friends have no idea of. Screw the determination. Screw the damn will power. Who would want to stay like this for even one day?

Taichi's eyes shot wide opened. He breathed deeply, relieved to get back to reality. That was scary. Breathing heavily, he turned on his back and stared at the ceiling.

If he were Sora, he would want his friends to just stop already. To not to give up on him, no. Just - just let him make his decision. Just let him decide whether he wants to stay alive, struggling every minute of every day for lifting his eyelids or whether he just wants to leave it, leave everything behind, simply move on. He would not blame - no one could - for deciding to move on. It was not cowardness or weakness. It was simply a choice just as difficult to make as the struggle to hold on to life. He could not blame Sora if she made this choice.

But could he tell her that? Could he tell her that he is fine with whatever she wants - life or death? And what if she chooses the latter? Then what? What would be it like without Sora, without any hope of ever seeing her eyes open?

The thought was so painful that he squeezed his eyes shut, his lips pressed tightly. There were two options really; either he considered Sora's situation, her pain, her disability - the decision of death seemed like an obvious choice, something he would want for himself too if he were in her situation.

But, when he considered it from the point of view of himself and his friends and her parents - it's too painful, too impossible to go on thinking that. Taichi rubbed his forehead frustratingly.

He was the Chosen Child of Courage, for God's sake! He could come to a decision like a man! He must! It'd been too long anyway. Too long for Sora. Too long for them.

The obvious decision took all his courage, sucking all the hope from him. He must let Sora go. She had tried for their sake for too long. Now they must return the favor. They must let Sora go. Sora deserved that right.

He opened the photo album to once again stare at her laughing face, not noticing a drop of clear water splashing silently at the corner of the album.

x-x-x

She stepped in the room softly on a crisp Monday afternoon, right after their so-called date weekend, having skipped her practice. No one would be coming for the next hour at least. And that's what she wanted.

"Oh, hi Yuki." Mrs. Takenouchi greeted her from a chair beside Sora's bed.

Hey, Yuki, Sora thought.

"Hi Mrs. Takenouchi." she whispered back. It was the first time she was alone in Mrs. Takenouchi's presence.

"You are early today." Mrs. Takenouchi noticed pleasantly.

"I, uh, skipped practice." she said meekly.

Why?

Mrs. Takenouchi nodded and smiled, "Well, I can use a little help right now. If you are to stay with Sora, I can have some lunch."

I would have forced you to go earlier if only I could speak. You had no breakfast either, Sora thought in disapproval.

"Oh, sure. It will be no problem." Yuki said quickly. Mrs. Takenouchi smiled and left the room. Yuki walked over to Sora and sat on recently vacated chair.

"Hey, Sora." she said softly, "It's the first time I get to see you alone."

Yeah.

Yuki stayed quiet for a long time, then. Her mind was racing with hundred of thoughts. Which one should come first?

Finally, she blurted out, "Do you, uh, did Yamato tell you that he was taking me out for dinner?"

Yes.

"He must have. Because, um well, he was doing that to make you happy, you know."

Oh?

Yuki took a deep breath. She had to say it quickly. That was the sole purpose of coming there alone.

"He thought, um, well, actually he thought it might make you open your eyes."

So is he done thinking that I'm not trying as hard as I can?

"And, well, I just think you should know something Sora, because, uh, I'm not sure Yamato will, er, tell you."

Tell me what? Sora was getting agitated. Yuki sounded more nervous than usual.

"I, um, I noticed it during our dinner. I . . . and I –" Yuki took a deep breath, "I think he likes you."

Sora's mind went blank. Slowly, as the words settled, she was able to think of one response only. A "Huh?"

"I . . . I don't know Sora . . . I never . . . I know I should not tell you this. This is, uh, Yamato's secret and this, oh I am so stupid!" she hid her face in her hands. The idea of telling Sora everything seemed stupid and very nosy now, "Sorry, Sora. I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have . . . " Well, the damage was done, "But it's true. Really. I am not mistaken or anything. He even left music for few days after you went to coma. I just . . . just don't want you to stay in dark. It's . . . it's already so bad with you in c-coma," her breath hitched; "I don't know what else to do." she was panicking, fiddling with the end of her long ponytail. If Yamato found out. If she was wrong and imagining things. She went on stubbornly, "He was . . . he . . . I told him and he looked shocked and . . . sort of . . . over-protective, like I shouldn't have observed that." Yuki gave a strained chuckle, "But it was hard to miss, Sora. All over the dinner, he kept talking about you. Kept asking me how is tennis team doing without you, whether we miss you, mentioning how you wanted him to be nice to me, all that. It was hard to miss." No, she was definitely right. He did like Sora.

Did he? But that doesn't prove that he . . . It could be just because I'm his friend and he was just worried like everybody else and . . .

All the possible explanations ran through Sora's mind trying to make it less real - the giddiness she was feeling ever since Yuki said those words. She was trying not to think of the words as they kept echoing behind all her lame reasons. He likes me. He likes me? But Yuki could be wrong. Yamato never gave the idea . . .

Immediately, the memory of his soft lips on her forehead was alive. The feel of his calloused fingers as he wiped her tears. The squeeze he gave to her hand whenever he comes. And then again, for the hundredth time, his intense gaze as she turned around to look at him in front of her building. His insistence to walk her home. The way he closed his eyes when she placed her hand on his forehead. The way he was looking at her when he tugged her sleeve to stop her. His habit of telling her about everything that happens to him, not just Yuki, but also his music. His taunting words as he teased her about her future boyfriend. And then much earlier, their conversation over best friends as boyfriend and his insistence that it's not that bad. Millions of bits and pieces and small gestures and touches were suddenly alive in Sora's mind, rushing fast not unlikely her first memory of Digital World after going in coma. Only, those memories did not give way to panic so much as they made her feel suddenly warm all over. She suddenly wanted to be left alone for a while.

"I'm . . . I am very sorry to . . . this seems really not my place to say . . . to tell you that . . . but still, it's true. Do you . . . do you believe me, Sora?"

Sora wanted to hug Yuki, to erase her nervousness and fear of disbelief. She really could not be sure of what Yuki was saying until Yamato confirms it, but the girl sounded so tense that Sora yearned for tiniest bit of movement, just to console Yuki. But it didn't come. She once again felt tears of frustration springing in her eyes and could not stop them from flowing down her cheeks.

Damn, she thought angrily, now she would think she had hurt me or something.

Yuki stared, horrified, as the tears slipped down Sora's pale face, "Oh Sora. Are you . . .? I didn't mean to . . . I am so sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I really . . ."

I hate this. I hate this. I hate this world, Sora was thinking with maddening anger, I hate getting stuck in this body. I hate coma. The tears came faster. I can't even make someone feel relieved anymore. All I can do is cause more pain. I hate this. I hate this world. I hate my life. The worst kind of self-pity consumed her mind as her frustration increased. Yuki was gently wiping her tears, unable to apologize anymore, to say anything at all.

"Hey - oh hi Yuki!" Takeru had just entered the room and grinned finding Yuki there. He didn't, however, notice her worried expression or Sora's tear strained face.

"Hi Takeru." Yuki said, her face flushing with guilt at being found making Sora cry.

Takeru realized something was off and looked at Sora. His blue eyes became wide as he noticed her tears, "Sora! What's wrong?" he asked anxiously.

"I think - I think I said something to make her cry." Yuki said in a guilty whisper. Takeru just shook his head, giving her a reassuring smile, and turned towards Sora. He knew there could be all range of reasons behind Sora's tears. The problem was not knowing those reasons since tears were the only way she could express both her happiness and grief.

"Hey Sora! Cheer up!" he said wiping her tears and perching beside her on the bed, "Guess what? I have gotten an A in my assignment! Can you believe it? Me and A! I kept pinching myself to see if I'm dreaming."

Sora calmed down at hearing Takeru's bright voice, her tears finally drying. Yuki breathed with relief.

Good job Takeru! Both of them thought simultaneously, though for different reasons.

"Hikari got a B+. Yeah, I know. She a B+ and me an A. This is miracle of miracles." he sighed happily.

"That's great, Takeru." Yuki said, smiling.

"I know, right? I mean . . . Wow! I know I worked hard and everything but the more shocking thing is that I am one step ahead of Hikari. Oh this is amazing!" he clearly had some sort of aura of excitement around him, Takeru. The atmosphere of room was suddenly vibrating with his energy, alone.

"Oh hi Yuki! You're here early!" Hikari had just entered the room and was surprised to see Yuki, "Sorry, we were a little late." she looked at Takeru and smiled, "I'm sure you have already announced your A to them. Who's next? Local newspaper? Or Tokyo television network?"

Takeru grinned, "Aww, look at the sour grapes! I told them about your B-plus too, Hikari. So don't spoil the fun."

"I'm sure you did that just to show that I got a lower grade," Hikari said mischievously, "Right, Yuki?"

Yuki chuckled at their bickering, "What can I say? He was in a daze of having a grade higher that you."

Hikari laughed, "Well, I sure don't want to spoil all the thrill of getting a better grade than me!" she turned towards Sora and kissed her forehead, "How are you doing Sora?"

Hey, Hikari.

"As long as I am here, Sora is happy and thriving." Takeru boasted. Yuki and Hikari laughed. Then Yuki stood up.

"I have to go now. Others will be coming soon now. I have to get home early today."

"Sure. See you later." Takeru waved.

"Bye, Yuki." Hikari said.

Yuki looked over at Sora, relieved that she was not crying anymore. She had done enough damage for one day.

"Bye you two. Bye Sora."

Bye Yuki. Thanks for coming, Sora thought, a resigned feeling of not being able to sooth Yuki lying heavily at the bottom of her heart.

x-x-x

Yamato couldn't remember ever having a worse weekend as the last one. After the revelation of his likeness for Sora, he had spent the whole of the Sunday trying to make his mind how to tell Sora. He could not waste anymore time, keep anymore secrets. He had shown enough blindness, as it was. He had to tell her somehow. In truth, he had just realized that he knew about his affection for Sora for a long time but to actually give words to the thought would make it even more real, would demand a need to be acknowledged by her too and would risk hurt if she didn't return his feelings. It was a truth he had spent years accepting. He could not afford wasting more years in trying to think of a better way to tell Sora. He just had to tell her. And what happens happens.

On late Monday evening, his feet dragged towards Sora's room as he tried to grasp any sane way of saying it. But none came. You just have to, he reminded himself, say it.

There was no one in her room, not even Mrs. Takenouchi. He was not surprised. She must have gone to her house for some supplies and others, too, usually left by that time. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Sora heard the steps coming nearer and tried to place them. It could not be her mother already; she had just left to get her clothes. Either it's Taichi - since he hadn't come yet - or . . .

"Sora." Yamato said simply as he sat on the chair.

Yamato. Sora suddenly felt warm all over. She wondered if she could blush in coma. Because she thought she just did.

The strange thing was that, even though she was not sure whether what Yuki told her was true, she found herself confused beforehand. She couldn't make up her mind about what to hope for; Yuki being right or wrong. On one hand it seemed an absurd idea and she tried to feel angry, even insulted, that Yamato would think of her in this way when she just thought of him as a friend. She tried to think herself above such childish foolishness as to fall for her best friend; something she would like to associate withmany other giggly, flirty sort of girls, who are always dreaming of turning any of their friends in their boyfriends, who swoon at such ideas, think of them "cute", and she thought herself higher than showing such vain behavior.

Yet, there was a part of her that wanted it to be real, that wanted Yuki to be proved right; how could she deny it? Try as she might. How could she not not forget that her reluctance for that best-friend-as-boy-friend theory went as far as Taichi was concerned and though she had never considered it for Yamato, given the possibility it didn't seem as revolting as she wanted it to be? Because Yamato was never anything like Taichi. Taichi was never anything like Yamato. She had deluded herself hugely by pushing both of them in a single umbrella of "best friend" but that umbrella seemed insufficient, now, to hold both definitions. Yamato's words "It depends on who is your friend and how do you see him." suddenly made sense. Because she had to be truthful to herself. Finally.

Taichi was the kind of friend she loved as a brother. She could count on him to take her side, stubbornly and blindly, even when she was wrong. Only later would he question her sanity but in front of others he would always show blind faith. He was the kind of friend she could scream at in anger without thinking what she was saying. He was the one who's anger she didn't mind facing. He was the first person she would call whenever she didn't want to go somewhere alone. He was the friend she could refuse to talk to for a while because she is nervous or had something on her mind and he won't mind. She was the only friend of hers with whom she could be "physical", doing all sorts of wild things to him and he, too, never treated her like a girl but rather roughly, like he would do with other boys. He was the one she would hide any fight, any nastiness of others from, because she can judge his reaction all too well. But he was the only person whose protectiveness she didn't mind too much. Unlike Yamato's.

With Yamato, she always wanted to be on equal footing. His friendship with her was neither as long nor as understanding as Taichi's, but it was definitely deeper on emotional grounds. If there was something she couldn't share with Taichi because of his rashness, she could always confide it in Yamato, making herself clear first that she doesn't want anyone to show any reaction. Yamato, unlike Taichi, would respect her request and do nothing where Taichi would want to teach some lessons so it won't happen again. Yamato judged her moods better than Taichi and would always know how to keep the conversation light when she was angry, or how to say nothing but just sit beside her whenever she was too tired. He was the one person she could share secrets with; the dark hole in the Digital World had them have a look inside each other's head, showing them how similar they were in so many ways. Unlike Taichi, he handled her with care, like a girl, and always tries to do the heavy tasks for her. If it's raining, he would pull her under his umbrella where Taichi would laugh and tease her first before showing great mercy and blessing her with the umbrella, by which time she would be completely soaked. But that was Taichi's way of being a best friend and she does the same when it was her turn to be naughty. With Yamato, she would always be gentle - as lady-like as gentlemanly he treated her. Much more sensitive to his moods, always observing him in silence and trying to do all she can to keep his mood light. She hated it; whenever he was in a sour mood and shutting everyone out and so she would take him on a walk, and sometime around then he would confide his problem in her and Sora would do her best to solve it. His worries, his problems had always been Sora's priority and she didn't know why his bad mood put her in a dark zone too. She couldn't deny the fact that more than anything else she wanted Yamato to smile, to talk over small things and to spend time with them in ease and not in a tensed way he used to do in the Digital World. Back then, she always wanted him a deeper part of the group but he never showed any interest. And then when he left the group - Sora had felt something constricted around her throat with worry and tension. How could he live alone in a place like Digital World? The risks. The danger. The threat. But she could see what staying with them was doing to him - tearing him with anger and frustration - and so she let him go. She let him go and passed every single minute of each day thinking where was he, praying he was okay, until he showed himself again. She wanted to hug him then, to shook him hard, tell him how worried she was, but she did none. Yamato back then was too distant. And she liked this Yamato, she liked his warm presence beside him, she liked how he was there for her whenever she wanted a shoulder. And she knew, she just knew, that if desperate action on his part would want another separation, she would go with him this time. And she knew that he wouldn't refuse. Yamato, now, was too close to her. And that closeness was nothing like Taichi's, Yamato was nothing like Taichi. She now understood. And she realized that sometimes having your best friend turned into a boyfriend is - as Yamato said - nice.

And so a part of her hoped Yuki to be right.

Yamato cleared his throat, "How are you doing?"

Doing nothing as usual, she thought dejectedly, just lying around.

"Today Mr. Fujioka was all teary and emotional. Said his daughter is getting married tomorrow."

Oh, that's great.

"I reckon she must be thinking good riddance." Yamato chuckled.

Yeah, maybe. Sora wanted to smile too.

"And so we had to endure him for two hours. Can you believe it Sora?" he leaned a little forward, "Two hours of sniffling lecture!"

We could change positions, Sora thought mildly, you could lie all day and I am willing to go to school and bear Mr. Fujioka.

Yamato stared at the unmoving form of Sora and sighed. Relaxing back on chair, his eyes moved over her face. This is the girl I want to spend every minute of my rest of the life with. But the question is how much of her life is remaining?

Yamato reached out and placed his palm on her forehead like she once did hundreds of years ago. Her lips were pale-white, her hair getting longer but fading color, dark circles under her unmoving eyes. I have to tell her.

"You know I took Yuki out on the dinner this Saturday. Do you remember?"

I do. I remember a lot of other things too. The sound of Yuki telling her about it became fresh in her mind.

"Well, it didn't go too well. Not that I'm surprised. But Yuki is strange Sora, you know that?"

No. She's not strange, Yamato. She just observes things.

"She said . . . when we were leaving, she said something like . . . we actually talked about you only and so she said I must not hide it. That you should know that I . . ."

That concept. The boy falling for his friend. It's just so strange.

Yamato's hand froze on Sora's forehead.

Just to think about something like this happening give me creeps.

Yamato snatched his hand back.

A boy friend is nothing like a best friend.

Yamato stared at her mutely.

What was I doing, he thought numbly, this is Sora. She doesn't like the idea of her best friend turning into boyfriend. How can I tell her about doing the exact thing she hates? He stared at her longingly, she thinks it's creepy. She thinks a boy friend just can't be a best friend at the same time. I can't tell her something like that. She'll hate me!

". . . that you should know that, um . . ." he began again but soon came to a complete pause, looking at her helplessly.

Sora's mind was tensed as she yearned to listen what he was trying to say.

What? I should know what?

"Just . . . just that we all want you to wake up." Yamato made up rest of the sentence lamely, "That's . . . that's what, um, you should know."

The disappointment that hit Sora was so immense that for a moment she felt like struggling for breath.

Just . . . just that?

For the second time in a day, she wanted to be left alone.

Yamato stared at her earnestly, wanting to tell her but unable to do so, "She told me about that, um, sort of ritual. You know, before every match."

"Yamato?"

Yamato turned around. It was Taichi. And oddly enough, it was very unlike Taichi, too. His face was drawn and slightly pale.

"Oh, you were here?" Yamato sounded flustered.

"No. I just came." Taichi said quietly as he entered the room. Sora waited for him to come to her like he always do, but instead he went to stand beside Yamato. "What's going on?"

That tone. Sora wanted to open her eyes so fiercely, torn by the desire. That tone. Taichi, what's wrong?

Yamato shrugged, scrutinizing his face to find the cause of the change in his behavior as he replied, "Nothing much. I was just telling Sora that her tennis team misses her too. Did you know that Sora -"

"Yamato, would you just back off it?" Taichi's voice was impatient and emotionless. Yamato stared at him, unable to comprehend his sudden anger, "How do you know Sora want to hear that? How can you tell that after all this time she give a damn to whether anyone misses her or not?"

Yamato's face went slightly pale with anger as he stood up, "What the hell are you talking about? What's wrong with you?"

"I am talking about what Sora wants." Taichi said roughly.

What I want?

"And what do you reckon Sora want?" Yamato asked sarcastically, coldly.

"She wants to be able to move on. She wants us to stop blabbering about how everyone misses her. She wants us to consider both options; of her life and death."

In a flash, Taichi's collar was in Yamato's fist. "You might want to shut up now." he whispered fiercely.

Taichi didn't even fight back. He pulled himself free roughly and sat on the foot of Sora's bed, "We all want Sora to wake up and I have no doubt that she is trying to wake up as hard as she can." he mumbled sadly, "But none of us want to imagine that maybe she just can't wake up."

"Taichi, just shut up." Yamato growled, "Just shut the hell up!"

"No, Yamato." he snapped, "Stop being that damn selfish. She had tried enough. Just . . . just let her go."

Let me go? Really? Sora felt like something heavy removed from her chest. Yes, please. Let me go. It has been so long.

Yamato knew this wasn't the type of discussion they should have near Sora but his fury took the better of him, "Let her go? Let her die? What the hell, Taichi? Are you out of your mind?"

"No." Taichi's voice was rising with anger, "But you are. How long can you keep her here like this? Can you - can you even imagine being in her position, you selfish moron? I hate to look at her now. I hate to have her suspended like this! She hates it too. I know, Yamato. She hates this life. And just for us, she lived this life for near seven months. Just return the favor already. Just let her go."

Taichi, you are truly the best friend I ever had, Sora felt like choking with gratitude.

Yamato stared at him with disbelief and frustration, "I am not being selfish, you idiot. I can't believe that her life is no longer important to you. I can't believe that you are giving up on her so soon. What about your promise -"

"Can you listen to yourself?" Taichi shook his head with disgust, "Giving up on her? No. The hell I am ever gonna give up on her. I know Sora a thousand times better than you. And she's not gonna give up as long as any of us is hoping for her waking up. But could you imagine the effort she's doing for that? Could you imagine how hard this is for her when all you do is to throw some encouraging remarks at her? Couldn't this be just about her, now? It's about time."

Yes, Yamato, please. It's going on for too long.

Yamato stared at Taichi, his words ringing in his ears. Is that what she wants? Is it really such an effort; to stay connected to life? Is she okay with death? Does she consider that option more often now?

"We . . . we can't, Taichi." he let out a strangled whisper, "We can't give her that option."

Sora felt like sighing. She could understand why he didn't want that but she was too tired to feel sympathy for him. Taichi was right. There was a deep feeling of relief in Sora's heart that at least someone saw her point of view. She was more than just grateful for Taichi. To imagine such sensitivity from him - well, a lot had changed in seven months.

Taichi glared at him in disappointment, "That's because you care too much for your own loss." he spat angrily, "And you don't want to look bad by thinking that it's okay if Sora dies. Hell, Yamato. You are hopeless. You couldn't even tell her how you think of her, could you? You are such a coward."

Is that . . . true? Two people in one day. Both implying the same thing.

"What are -" Yamato was perplexed.

"Do you think I am that stupid? I noticed it one too many times. You know you don't think of her just as a friend."

For once, Yamato's face flushed with anger instead of getting paler, "You don't know what the damn you are talking about." he said through gritted teeth, "So just shut your big mouth." he went out the room as quickly as possible.

Taichi stared after him with a mixture of disappointment, pity and anger.

x-x-x

Yamato hadn't imagined himself leaving the hospital in any worse mess than he was while entering it; but it did happened. He was afraid that if he stayed any longer, he would do some serious damage to Taichi's fat mouth and the only thing that stopped him was the thought of Sora there and how she would feel even more helpless when unable to stop them from fighting.

And how she would want to leave her life behind even more badly.

His mind buzzed with Taichi's rough voice, torn with the pain of what he was saying, and his anger boiled further. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists to stop himself from cursing him aloud - at least not before he was in his house, in his room.

As he left the bus, however, he suddenly didn't want to see his room. The cold November air whipped across his face as he stood at the bus stop, his mind blank of any destination. The cold seemed to echo around him, surrounding his still form, icy fingers of chilled air caressing his face. It felt like his lungs were full of it as he took a deep breath. After a while, without thinking, his feet started moving on a very familiar path.

Walking against the wind somehow reminded him once again of Taichi and what he thought Sora wants and what they should do. Tell her that it's okay if she dies. Do exactly the opposite of what they had been doing for last seven months; telling her how important she was for them, how they are never gonna give up on her. It felt like deceiving her, going back on some unwritten agreement. There was a sour feeling of defeat associated with that thought and it filled Yamato with dread. Someone continued to shout in his mind, No! No, no! We can't let Sora die! No! No, no! and there was a lump in his throat.

"No, Sora, no," he whispered hoarsely to himself, "We can't let you die."

He found himself in the park where Sora used to come for sketching, empty, quiet and cold. The rustling of trees was magnified ten times in there and Yamato was aware of cold for the first time as he rubbed his arm. He was reminded of the snow blizzard in their very first days in Digital World, when the island split apart and he was trying to find Takeru. How strange, he had a fight with Taichi then, too. Only, this wasn't a snow blizzard.

Yamato sat down on the same bench on which Sora usually sat. It was cold enough to chill him to the bone despite his jacket and he shivered involuntarily. The park that seemed to be so alive and beautiful in daylight suddenly seemed dead at night. The looming shadows of trees and statues hunched all around him, ready to pounce. Yamato rubbed his hands together.

x-x-x

For the second time in seven months her mind was falling back to the same cocoon of familiar darkness. It felt like going to sleep, only with a much less awareness of the difference between awake and asleep. She felt like sighing with relief. As much as she had been yearning for some sense of reality in the very beginning, to be able to just hear was getting exhausting. She continuously found herself getting tensed at every little sound, every approaching footstep and every bit of odd quiet sounds that one never notices in daily life.

And so, it was with quite a relief that she was welcoming the sudden darkness that engulfed her quietly.

Sitting beside her bed, Taichi didn't notice any difference in her state and after a while he, too, left.

x-x-x

Yamato stared at his fingers crossed in front of him, his mind storming with multiple thoughts. Taichi thought Sora wants to die, that it has been long enough. But how can he tell what Sora wants? For all he knew, Sora might want to wake up even more badly, after making the effort for seven months. Taichi could be wrong.

But what to do of that little part in his heart that knew all too well that he was mocking himself only? The moment the words had left Taichi's mouth, they had clicked some part of his mind that already knew that they can't hold Sora forever, no matter how badly they want to. That it would only be fair to Sora. And that the moment was approaching nearer by each passing day. He knew that Sora must hate her life. He knew it from the very beginning but tried to ignore it by thinking over and over Sora has to wake up, Sora has to wake up, but maybe that's not true. For a girl whose life had passed being involved in one physical activity after another, staying unmoving for seven months was torture. Thinking from that point of view, yeah she should have the option of death.

Yamato was reminded of his question, Is she alive? seven months ago while he was standing in her apartment, staring at her bloodied bag and scarf, all hope lost. He remembered the relief that passed through him when Mrs. Takenouchi told him that she was, indeed, alive, but in coma. It occurred to him now that being in coma for seven months was much worse than death back then. Especially, if after such long coma, she is gonna die anyway. It sounded like a slower and more painful death.

x-x-x

She didn't hear her mother taking place beside her as she was once again blind to the world.

The darkness that felt comfortable at first was starting to suffocate her, constricting around her throat, getting colder.

Some part of her mind panicked, tried to wake up, but didn't succeed.

x-x-x

An illusion was sitting there beside him on the bench; an illusion of a girl with auburn hair. He didn't try to look at her, knowing it would disappear if he did. He let it trick his mind.

What's so nice about me sketching? The illusion asked with a little confusion.

Yamato smiled wryly. He didn't answer her.

Next time I'll make sure none of you are in three mile radius before sketching, she was mocking anger.

Yamato closed his eyes, lifting his face up, the cold bringing tears to his eyes that fell down silently.

I think she really likes you, Yamato.

Yamato opened his eyes, staring at the star dusted sky. If they are going to give her the second option, they might never hear her voice again, might never be able to tell her things they wanted to say so badly.

x-x-x

The darkness was getting colder, its claws tightening around her throat. She tried to gasp, to breath, to no avail. Her lungs felt strangely empty of air.

The pain came a moment later, destroying everything in its wake, like the water flooding the gates. It made her body convulsed in a jerk, shooting up from her limbs, spreading to her head, a pain so intense that for the first time in seven months her legs moved.

Please, no. No more. I can't take anymore. Her brain seemed to shout.

The next instant it was proven drastically wrong as the supernova of pain exploded in her head.

x-x-x

And if they might never get a chance of telling Sora something when she wakes up, in other words if she has to pass on without coming out of coma then wouldn't it be better if they just tell her what they want to tell her so badly, without assuming her possible reaction, without anything to fear? Wouldn't it be only fair to Sora that they give her complete honesty at this point? She deserved it. She has a right to know. And no amount of flashbacks could deny her that right. He must tell her and leave the decision to her. Let her decide.

x-x-x

Mrs. Takenouchi returned from the cafeteria where she had gone for merely five minutes to get a cup of coffee and say goodbye to Taichi who was still in the cafeteria, warming himself with tea before setting off to his house.

She opened the door to Sora's room and her face drained every color. There, on her bed, Sora's whole body was shivering violently, all tubes disconnected, her face still empty of any hint of emotion. The monitor was beeping furiously as her heartbeat increased at an alarming rate.

A second later, the cup met the floor without any protest.

There were more important things going wrong with the universe right now.

x-x-x

Yamato kept staring at the sky, wondering how Sora would paint it if she could see it. A deep, almost black, blue. With occasional stars scattered like fine particles of dust on black velvet. The air was getting even colder by every passing minute as the night deepened and Yamato rubbed his palms once again to circulate the heat. The park felt even quieter despite the rustling of trees. Yamato sighed heavily.

Giving a single, long look to the sky; he stood up, a strange sort of calmness creeping over him for having made the decision. He will tell Sora. Though he was still not sure if he wanted to give her the second option, if he wanted to let her go.

The silence was ripped apart by the ring of his cell phone. Annoyed, he pulled it out of his pocket, taking his time. It was Taichi. Yamato scowled.

"Hello."

"Sora's in ICU." Beep. Beep. Just three words.

Yamato, for the second time in seven months, felt the world crashing around him in a heap.

x-x-x

Taichi wondered if ever, in the coming years of his life, he would be able to erase the image that was burned in his memory from minutes earlier. The image of Sora being wheeled out of her room on stretcher, her face drained of what little color there was earlier, her body shaking violently, her hands and feet jerking.

Now as he stared at the closed doors of ICU, his mind reeled back to his decision to give Sora another option, to tell her that it's okay if she wants death; it's not cowardness or giving up. Now it felt like a slap to his face. Like she had made her choice as soon as she was given with it. He knew it got nothing to do with his argument with Yamato. It was not the reason of Sora shaking like that. But could it be possible that she was just waiting for a single person to tell her it's okay to die and use that option? Was she in such a hurry? And did he still want to give her that option? He had guessed that she would, maybe, try to hold on for another month but it seemed as if even another day would be too much to ask. A lump formed in his throat as he felt the possibility of an immediate absence, a large void to be made in his life nearby. His fists clenched as he leaned against the wall. Not so soon, Sora. Not so soon.

Yamato was sitting on his tiptoes against opposite wall, his elbows on his knees, his head in his arms. Mrs. Takenouchi had told him what the doctors had told her before closing the doors; she is in some sort of pain. Yamato felt something twisting in a knot in his stomach at the thought of Sora in pain, nausea rolling over at the idea of pain intense enough that her body could no longer ignore her brain. He fisted his hair in his hand, trying to push back the bile that kept coming up. All his priorities seemed to go under turmoil before one came up; sharp and painful.

If Sora wants to die, he won't stop her. She could have that option right now, right this instant if it meant she can escape the pain. He can endure her absence; he can live with not telling her what he wanted to tell her, he can live with seeing everybody's lives changing drastically in her absence . . . just . . . just let her pain stop! Just let her die if she can't escape the pain. That was the only thing, of everything, he can't live with. The thought of Sora in pain.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and lifted his head to find it was Taichi. He got to his feet unevenly and felt his own pain of being shredded apart slowly reflected in Taichi's eyes. There were no words that could encompass what they were feeling so they stayed quiet, staring at the closed doors, none of them aware of other's adaption to his own previously held idea.

Mrs. Takenouchi was sitting on the bench, her head leaning against the wall, her lips moving soundlessly, tears rolling down her face freely. There was no doubt as to what she was hoping for. Sora had been in there for half an hour and in that time there had been a dozen calls from Haruhiko asking for her condition as he booked a flight to Tokyo. She couldn't find words to sooth his anxiety, nor could he get a way to calm her down. Tears were all that were shed on both sides.

An hour passed. An hour and a half. Two hours. And finally the doors opened.

They all stood up, too numb to hope for anything in particular.

"She is alive." The nurse told them quickly, seeing their drained faces.

Something settled down in all of them, despite their different hopes. Their shoulders relaxed. Mrs. Takenouchi started crying again but with a smile this time. Taichi's face regained some of its color back as he nodded. Yamato took a step forward.

"And the pain she was . . . ?"

"The doctors think it's over, too." she replied and walked away. Yamato gulped down the relief. The doctors emerged from the room and explained everything to Mrs. Takenouchi. By the sounds of it, there was a lack of oxygen in her brain as it mended itself and some nerves got blocked. It was sorted out now and she seemed to be doing okay.

"The C.T scan shows that her brain is almost completely mended and there is nothing else to be mended that could be a hindrance in her waking up. However, we can't find a reason as to why she is not waking up. If anything, it got only worse as now she is back to her initial state of not moving and hearing."

They didn't know quite how to take that news. Sora was alive. But back to the very beginning. Mrs. Takenouchi's eyes dimmed with sorrow.

"Oh." she managed to say. She turned away and called Haruhiko, repeating to him what doctors said as she walked beside Sora's stretcher being wheeled back to her room. Taichi went to the cafeteria, bringing back coffee for Mrs. Takenouchi as she finished the call.

"Thanks, dear." she said gratefully.

"Don't mention." he said, giving a wan smile, "You need it." Yamato was standing against the window again, his eyes fixed on Sora.

Mrs. Takenouchi smiled sadly as she stared at her daughter, "I don't know if I will ever be able to sleep at night as long as she is in coma. I left for five minutes and . . . this happened." her brown eyes were filled with guilt and sorrow.

Taichi shook his head, "You can't blame yourself, Mrs. Takenouchi, that's unfair. You are doing all right and when Sora will wake up; she would tell you the same." Don't bother with if Sora wakes up, considering his decision to let her have the choice of death. She can't hear them, anyway. "It just had to happen that way. Some things are out of our hands. You can't blame yourself for that."

Mrs. Takenouchi nodded and took a deep breath, "Hmm maybe." she was not fully convinced, "It's getting late. I think you two should go home now."

Yamato's eyes moved away from Sora with some difficulty as he looked at Mrs. Takenouchi in astonishment. He couldn't leave Sora. Not after what just happened. Who knew how much time she had?

took in his gaze and shook her head, "No, Yamato, I know what you are thinking but you can't stay. Go home. Get some sleep."

Yamato shrugged away from the window, his face tensed, his eyes unsure and made his way to the door. Taichi led him out and Mrs. Takenouchi followed them.

"I want you to know that it means a lot to me, you two coming when she was in ICU. I can't tell you what a relief it was to not to face that alone." Mrs. Takenouchi said softly, smiling a little as she hugged each of them, "You two are great kids."

"You are welcome, Mrs. Takenouchi, but I don't know if we had a choice then," Taichi said, smiling a little, "We can't leave her like that."

"I know." Mrs. Takenouchi said affectionately, "Good night, Taichi, Yamato."

"Good night, Mrs. Takenouchi." Taichi said and Yamato nodded.

They turned to left the hospital for the second time that day.

x-x-x

The news of Sora visiting ICU spread quickly to America and Mimi was frantic as she called Taichi for details. All of them had felt crushed to know that she was back where she started from, unconscious to the world around her.

"She was able to hear! To move her arms! This is so unfair!" Takeru had exclaimed in disappointment.

"She would take even more time in waking up, now." Hikari said dejectedly.

"I didn't know this could happen; comatose patients going back to stage one." Jyou was confused.

"It definitely happened. After all this time." Koushiro was unable to occupy himself in any other thought other than how Sora had gone back so many steps.

Yuki was tensed and even quieter than usual. Could it have happened because of me? She kept replaying how Sora cried earlier that day. Her guilty conscience kept her out of conversation for the good part of it. There was also a part of her conscience that wanted to tell Yamato what she had done, thought he deserved to know. Maybe he will be able to decide if it got anything to do with what happened to her. But she was too big a coward to act on impulse.

What she didn't know was that there were two other people fighting with their guilty conscience; each thinking himself responsible for last night. Though Taichi was sure it got nothing to do with their fight, he was the one who said it was okay to die. Yamato was convinced she was trying a bit too hard then, must have thought about their fight later, tried to sort things out in her mind, stressing it to the limit and it resulted in the form of her experiencing so much pain. None of them expressed it aloud, though. All three of them decided to keep their mistakes to themselves for the time being.

The end of November came with a sense of dread and depression. Everyone was more afraid as to what could happen to Sora any instant. Their visits to hospital once again increased in duration but now there was less hope due to her reverting back to stage one.

x-x-x

She didn't know it happened until it happened. The thin filtering of daylight behind her eyelids made her think she was having a flashback at first. Her eyes were barely able to adjust to the brightness and opened some more.

Sora Takenouchi was finally awake after staying in coma for seven months, eleven days, seven hours and thirty eight minutes.

It seemed so easy now; to open her eyes. The first thing that attracted her light-thirsty eyes was a digital clock on a small table besides her bed with luminescent green numbers announcing 7:38 a.m. In the upper corner there was last day of November shining.

Am I out of coma?

The thought thrilled her but before she could think any further she felt her eyes closing again, heaviness settling down on her as if she had not slept in days. She heard a voice saying something, a boy with orange hair coming to stand beside her but was unable to make sense of it as she once again slipped back into darkness.

x-x-x

Koushiro had slept last night in the hospital, deciding to spend the rest of the Saturday there too since Taichi had flu and he couldn't stay for night. He woke up early as usual and put his laptop on charging. He turned to see how Sora was doing and his eyes went wide. Something fell a mile inside him, taking his breath with it. It took him a long time to believe his eyes. Her eyes were half open, staring at the clock on the table.

"Sora?" he called out, his voice sounding funny with shock. He came towards her but could already see that her eyes were closing again. Next moment she was just the same; asleep.

With his nerves tingling all over his body and his breathing increased, he felt his head swimming. He took a deep breath to calm himself down and press the call button. Seconds later, a nurse came in.

"I think I saw her eyes open. Please get the doctor."

The nurse nodded, gave a curious glance to the girl on bed and left in a hurry.

Koushiro called Mrs. Takenouchi, Taichi, Yamato and Jyou repeating same message again and again, "Sora opened her eyes."

x-x-x

A/N: There! You have it! Your desired coma ending! Happy? Now just let me get angry at myself for being a softie and listening to you guys! (Just kidding!)

Whew! What a long, long chapter! About double the length of my ordinary chapters. So bear with me if I write a long author's note too!

First off, just let me tell you that originally there was no existence of any extra character named Yuki in my mind. I should have mentioned this in first few chapters but I didn't. Just when I was writing the first chapter where Sora and Yamato were staring around the classroom, I simply pull a girl out of thin air staring at Yamato, a supposedly-single-time-mentioned girl, just to give them a topic to talk about. Since there was no significance planned for her in my mind, I gave her the first name that came to my mind, boring and common "Yuki". I don't know why in the cafeteria scene I included her, maybe because cafeteria scene was planned just to give a reason to the walk home later. So I had to create some drama there. Yuki was all ready to create one. Finally, as her appearance in the story became more frequent, I decided to give up and let her be a part of this too. Hence, the digidestined bit. Hence, a brief introduction of Yuki's life in this chapter that was way over-due!

I know people talk about how holding on to life is so important, never to give up, blah blah, but it's hard to do so in real life; you have to let go sometimes. Sometimes being alive is worse than death. You can't blame Sora for giving up, for wanting to die, for not showing the idealistic sort of courage that we usually get in stories. Because it's not real. This whole chapter is based on this idea. Taichi and Yamato, both loved Sora but in their own way and have opposite ideas as to what's better for Sora. Frankly, I am with Taichi; to let go after you have done everything, make it easier for Sora. But I presented with another school of thought in Yamato to give you an alternative in case some of you don't agree with me.

I don't know if a comatose patient could go back to stage one after moving to stage two, I found no such reference on internet, so it could be or could not be wrong. Let's just say it's something I made up for story. I do know that lack of oxygen to brain could result in the form of pain (The fault in our stars by John Green) though not if it could happen in comatose patients due to brain recovery. Another thing I made up for the story. But comatose patients could wake up from stage one, that bit was not made up.

Oh and I choose my birthday to be the day Sora woke up, so yeah BITE ME!, think me obnoxious or whatever, it's not gonna change anything. After all, it's my story!

Just to clarify, I had Sora all dead till the point of Taichi's call to Yamato in park. Those three words were supposed to be the end. But I remembered your (reviewers') innocent, eager faces and how you gave me encouragement all through the story and so I said, ohwhat the hell, and just like that I decided to let Sora live. This ending is dedicated to sweetpeeas, aleena, mahwish1 and SoraLovesRain who kept requesting not to let Sora die. I hope I get long reviews from you guys, now. (witch's cakle)

Also, I want to thank A. for getting my story in "some of the serious" ones and liking Yuki (I was quite surprised). So, in a way, the detailed part on Yuki in this chapter is something inspired by and written for A. .

Of course I would like to thank (again and again) my dear reviewers who made my day with their awesome and in some cases, such detailed and keen, reviews. Quite a few new reviewers came too and for that I am very grateful.

So if my dear, dear reviewers will please stay on this side of the line because I want to tell them how precious they are to me, how I kept adding different parts of story for the sake of what they like most about the story. I love you guys!

To my non-reviewers, those on the "other" side of the line, try to review this chapter at least because it required so much effort that I would appreciate every single review.

Stay tuned for the next chapter which will be the last one. Oh, am gonna miss this story so much after I'll end it. I hope you do too!