Whoa, I keep getting unused to updating this; lately every chapter feels like the first time. It's scary.

But hi! Hope you've had a great summer :D I'm so glad to have another chapter to give you! I've had this one for a while, but there's been some struggling. I'm getting pickier (and crappier -not a good combination) as it's getting closer to its ending. Why? Because the ending is what I've had in my head since... what, 2006? Damn. So I'm having a hard time satisfying myself -immature snicker-, since it's the most important part to me. And I really don't want to leave you with a crappy ending after all this time. That would suck.

Anyhow, here's chapter eleven for ya (can't believe I'm past ten o.O) I'm skipping the disclaimer/warnings because I have a feeling you've all got it by now :P

...what are you waiting for?!

Chapter eleven


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I remember when dad and I went skiing once. Think I was about eight years old. I couldn't ski. I'd never skied. My dad, the old saint, pushed me down the hill without a second thought, yelling, "just bend your knees!" after me.

I was terrified.

I don't remember the actual fall, nor the three days at the local (and rather shitty) hospital afterwards. Or even my dad's pathetic, and never actually spoken apology.

What I remember is that horrible snowball-effect. Every second is more too late than the last one.

I did bend my goddamn knees and I actually managed to stand up all the way down.

I knew so well that falling on purpose was harmless in comparison to staying the way I was, going faster and faster.

But I couldn't move.

I just stayed in that standing position, so painfully aware of that I was choosing the wrong thing to do. Not even in frightened denial; I was thinking 'I'm so stupid' all the way down. And by every second, with which I sped up faster and faster, I made that choice again and again, the choice that became more and more stupid by every more dangerous second.

Just because I was still standing. Just because the big crash was still a bit ahead. I chose to stay standing. And while I was, I tried pretending that nothing was wrong. That it wasn't going to hurt. That I was flying.

I was so terrified.

Apparently, if I ever had the chance I would make that wrong choice again and again.


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Sunday, 01.31 AM

I miss him.

Every now and then that thought would pop up in his head, only to disappear just as quickly, or be chased away –whatever happened first.

He could chose to grieve all he wanted; there was a lot to grieve. But even the hint of sorrow, that split second of I miss him made him so sick of himself that he could hardly stand it.

Yet, right now he was going to aloud his mind to drift towards that thought, keeping his eager part away from distracting him, as it always did. He appreciates that part, always saving him the bother of over-analyzing and wallowing; worrying and grieving hardly did any good. Honestly.

But he wasn't going to ponder the romantic bit, the feelings of hugging him, touching him and kissing him-

No. He wasn't even going to go there.

Sure, it was annoying as hell not being aloud to show affection, especially affection such as kissing. Taichi did find that activity –though Sora totally ruined it for him- more wonderful than anything else. Now, being forbidden to kiss Yamato, this mild affection towards lip locking had turned into some kind of obsession...

He frowned, pushing the annoying thoughts away. Curse cliché teenage angst.

The only thing he could stand to aloud himself to mope about was the loss of the guy he used to hang out with.

It was time to admit it; he missed Yamato.


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The familiar path, previously used by the two teens, was currently avoided by both Yamato and Taichi. It was an asphalted road that ran along the Odaiba coast, taking them ten minutes to school, and anything from nine to 45 minutes home from school in the afternoon, depending on the amount of energy they had left and whether they had a specific time to catch or not.

Their shared way home stopped at a y-shaped junction, where they had about the same distance left to their respective homes. Following the other, thus getting a little bit more of the company, and from there making one's way home only took a few extra minutes. Yamato and Taichi took turns following the other home, not often separating unless they were in a hurry.

However, the result of the slight detour was hardly ever heading home immediately. Once they had walked the last distance, hanging at the other's place for a while was a tempting and common choice.

Aside from the two boys, the path was actively used by early morning joggers and, slightly lesser afternoon runners. The "health-freaks" as Yamato liked to refer them to, carried the blame of one day inspiring the brunet to force his currently best friend into the activity, not taking a no, an outbreak, a fight, an ice-cream smeared into his face, nor a detention for an answer.

Depriving his friend from any excuses other than his obvious laziness, the football player took the liberty to get the blond a good pair of shoes, a train-set and a timekeeper. All of this was in the end pair for by Yamato himself, who absolutely despised his friend's habit of being overly generous just to get what he wanted.

After trying his friend's patience the first three times of running along the same path (but in the opposite direction of their school) Taichi finally gave up the pep-talk, realizing that the only reason Yamato didn't tell him off, was because he needed every bit of oxygen to keep up. In about a week, they had set a workable time of the day three times a week to keep free for jogging, and an appropriate distance to be able to study improvement.

It turned out that despite no training the previous 17 years, Yamato had a stamina that leveled with the otherwise far more trained athlete, making them -to their both surprise- a perfect jogging pair.

It was 08.06 AM this Tuesday, and if everything would have been in its right order, two boys could be expected to walk on this path, randomly chatting, fighting, laughing, murmuring things that were inappropriate for early morning joggers to over-hear, whining over boredom and lack of sleep, wondering what the hell the other was talking about, silently daydreaming off on their own, or just putting one foot in front of the other; not yet awake.

But everything wasn't in its right order today. The coast-path lay open for the joggers to train in peace, maybe asking themselves where those two kids had gone.

No, neither teen walked this way in the morning. They couldn't acknowledge each other yet. Neither took the risk of running into the other on their way to school, and found no problem in taking another path.

It was only after school that a blond boy would walk up to the y-shaped junction, stand there motionlessly until a dark-skinned boy with wild hair approached. The two strangers would then continue to the left, with no words spoken between them.


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Socks in bed isn't the end of the world. True. But taking just a second to reach down and pull them off isn't the end of the world either, right?

Breathing. Not exactly a crime, is it? He knew after the incident where he had let out a noise that it was not very appreciated. Still, holding his breath while fucking is ridiculous! Not only because it's impossible, but also because it would just lead to panting when he finally had to get air.

Now, this was what took the price: flawless behavior. No mistakes, no incidents, nothing to complain over. Apparently, a crime, starting now.

Up until this point, Taichi had managed to make sense out of his situation with Yamato. Very simple and logical sense. Yamato wanted sex matching his current ideal, which was anonymous, safe, quick, and mechanic. His ideal, specifically, the brunet didn't completely understand, but he gladly respected it.

Evidently, the more Taichi managed to adjust to his standards, the less frustrated Yamato appeared.

To Taichi, that made perfect sense.

Now however, his improvements seemed to bother the blond, rather than please.

Also, instead of striving to reach that precious ideal –or at least being the lazy-ass and just waiting for Taichi to get there, Yamato was aggravating the brunet's task, as if he wanted everything to screw up.

-'-

The football player growled, for the first time annoyed with the whole thing. He hadn't until now found it stupid, as Sora liked to announce it every now and then, since, as explained, it made sense. But now he was actually starting to wonder just what was going through Yamato's head.

He closed the thick wooden door behind him, still frowning. Since when did sex become so unsatisfying?

The elevator before him reached the same floor, but he didn't bother throwing on a happy or at least neutral face. Screw it. Screw everything. Grown ups can whine all they want, it's not like they always look friendly.

"Taichi-kun."

He jumped, staring up into Ishida Hiroaki's scary appearance.

Scary was perhaps a bit mean way to describe him; it wasn't like he looked evil or had scars or anything that could freak a person out. Taichi just happened to have the opposite for a dad, who he naturally compared everyone else's fathers to. Mr Yagami always had a smile in the corner of his mouth, and he simply wouldn't hurt a fly. He had that lazily calm dad-atmosphere around him that Yamato's father lacked.

Right now, Taichi really wasn't very pleased to see Mr Ishida, but that had nothing to do with physical appearance. It was rather about what he'd been doing to this man's son, just recently. Growing paranoid, he started wondering if Hiroaki actually could smell Yamato on him.

"H-hi Ishida-san!" He grinned widely, despite his whole body protesting. He knew that he would have to watch his mouth, and consider every move and expression he made unless he wanted Yamato's dad to get suspicious. Quite frankly, he was too worn-out to do that. There was one alternative and that was praying to God that Mr Ishida didn't give a damn about what might happen in his son's personal life.

"How is school, Taichi?"

He mentally groaned. Why couldn't he have just run from the very start?

"School is… awesome" he said lamely, very aware of that Mr Ishida knew that it was a lie, and was probably annoyed by the fact that he didn't appreciate education that his parents after all paid for and many kids in the world didn't have, plus inwardly wrinkled his nose at his horribly youthful language. Being the optimist, he figured that deep down the man still liked him despite his flaws.

"Still trouble with your grades?"

"Working on it"

"Hm" Hiroaki nodded. Then shifted, clearing his throat. Taichi impatiently waited for him to force a final question that would finish their obligatory little chitchat and release him.

"What's wrong with Yamato?"

The elevator opened. They both nodded at the old man who was passing, walking slowly towards his apartment. The sound of trembling keys echoed in the stairwell for a moment, before he managed to unlock and enter.

"I-"

"He's been acting very strange. Well, stranger I guess." His shrug said what he meant, which Taichi knew all too well; people under thirty are aliens to him. Especially his son.

The teen gulped. For a few ever lasting split seconds he frantically searched for a good lie. Then he suddenly realized that he didn't have to come up with one.

Feeling the weight lift from his shoulders, he shook his head. "I have no clue."

Mr Ishida narrowed his eyes, unhappy with his answer. "So he hasn't spoken to you about it? Look, I don't care if it's secret, I want to know what the hell has… happened to him."

Taichi shook his head. "I'm sorry, he hasn't opened up to me more than anyone else, and I honestly don't know what's got into him."

The brunet mentally grinned. It was fun not having to lie, and at the same time not having to reveal anything.

"Fine," the elder muttered, and left him for the door.

The teen fled down the stairs, not wasting any time to get out of there. Mr Ishida wasn't surprised. He had always treated that Yagami-kid with caution and contempt, completely clueless when his son had stopped doing the same. Over time he had repeatedly got proven that there wasn't really anything unusually evil behind that dreadful grin, but he didn't let his guard down.

The guy was alright, and he had to admit that it was a relief seeing the brunet force Yamato's bright sides out of him, and stop him from helplessly –though strangely rebelliously- following his father's footsteps; isolating himself and despising most people. Especially those like Taichi. What irony.

Right now, he could not understand why the brat wasn't doing his goddamn job. His son was behaving even worse than he'd done just after he and Yamato's mother had divorced. If there was ever a need for the football player to step in and play hero, now was the time. But that useless boy had left him to do the work –which he was practically incapable of.

-'-

Mr Ishida opened the door and stepped into the apartment that never did, and probably never would feel like home. In all honesty he felt more attached to the number on their door. At "home" (he still felt the liability to call it home) he felt lost, unneeded and unnamed. At his work he had a role, a responsibility, expectations on him, trust. Something to do. His job was the only thing that seemed to move in his life. Only thing that felt sane.

Yamato was in the shower. Had he always showered in the afternoon?

Though it still felt partly pointless and just irritating, he decided to focus on his son's change of behavior. It wasn't a guilty one –Mr Ishida had seen his son struggling with guilt, either hiding it or trying to make up for it. The suspicious way he acted when hiding something came the closest to this case, and yet it was hardly comparable.

He somehow wanted to believe that there was something being held from him, perhaps an easier road to go down, but he couldn't kid himself with that. Yamato had accepted something, he wasn't guilty or in denial, he had given something up.

He had given up.

Failure.

Hiroaki momentarily felt ashamed of him, too reminded of his own failure that that he somehow couldn't accept as maturity or growth, no matter how much he wanted to. He had failed. Not even they –he.

And now his son was failing; giving something up, leaving himself behind. Mr Ishida was on line of despising him. Realizing that it wouldn't do any good, he reminded himself of that he didn't even know what had been accepted, given up slash left behind. Maybe it was necessary –like he still wished he could honestly say about his divorce. Maybe it was the right thing.

He frowned. If so, things would eventually work out. Maybe not go back to normal, but work out.

From here, he just couldn't see that happening.

Then again, he'd always been accused of being a pessimist.


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Wednesday, Yagami's residence

"Tai, stop playing with your food"

"I'm not playing, I'm being artistic"

"…that's art?"

He glanced up. "Creative art."

"Right. Well, here's a newsflash for you: it's eatable."

An awkward silence around the table followed. Taichi snickered, biting his lips to stop himself from answering. Then Kari started snickering as well. Their dad joined in, but quickly stopped when he noticed his wife's murderous glare. He cleared his throat and straightened.

"Alright, just eat that will you Tai, it's tastes delicious." Last word was said with a broad smile towards Mrs Yagami, who merely snorted.

The male teen gave up his project and started eating, smiling weakly when his mother eyed him. "Yummy"

"You're not giving it a chance!" she muttered, defensive partly because she didn't even like it herself.

"No, it's great! Really"

The topic was soon dropped after they had all laughed it off –it was a known fact in the family that Mrs Yagami liked to… experiment with food.

A few minutes later the adults proceeded on bringing up another thing that didn't seem too easily fitted among the weather and Hikari's science-project. It was done less than discretely –to say the least.

"So, how's the love life going?"

The two siblings exchanged glances, both mentally groaning. When they finally allowed themselves to look up, accepting their destiny, Mr and Mrs Yagami were expectantly looking at Taichi.

Not knowing what to answer, he used the classic repeating method. "How my love life is going?"

"Yeah, you know… have you got a girlfriend?" Mr Yagami fought to keep his expression neutral. "Boyfriend?"

You could tell that they were both proud of coming up with this mind-blowing alternative.

Taichi slowly hung his head. One glance at his sister told him that she was fighting not to laugh her head off.

Sticking with the repeating method, he looked up again. "Boyfriend?"

They nodded enthusiastically. "Yep. How should we know if you're gay or straight or… purple or green," his dad joked, relieved to see that at least his daughter was almost falling off the chair laughing. Never mind what exactly she was laughing at…

"Look, what we're trying to ask is if you're a homosexual," his mother filled in, more business like than her husband, as usual.

Taichi scratched his head. "No, I um… I'm rather that kind that has sex with dead people –what do you call it?"

"Necrophile"

"Thanks Kari."

The parents frowned. "Taichi, we are trying to have a conversation with you here. You don't have to tell us everything but we don't feel that you should hide who you are from us. We have no problem with it."

"Fine, I molest children"

"Taichi!"

He shrugged. "Animals?"

The respond was only a glare from his mother. He snapped his fingers. "I'm a sadist!"

She scowled. "Dammit, Taichi-"

"Rapist? Polyamorous? Incestuous?"

"Ew," was heard from his left.

"Right, strike that"

"I told you this wasn't a good idea…" Mrs Yagami mumbled, resting her head in her palm.

"Honey, you insisted on asking him."

"Well what am I supposed to do?" she cried out, frustrated beyond belief. Realizing that he was still sitting there, she collected herself and turned to her son again.

"Tai, I know you don't share a lot of personal stuff with me, but something's up and if you can't convince me that you're perfectly fine then I need to know what it is. I don't want to interfere but I hate seeing you like this!"

His dad nodded. "Ditto"

"Alright! Jeez, I didn't think you'd make such a big deal out of this" he complained, uneasy with being questioned.

"I hate to take their side, but you're doing the smiley-thing and that's never a good sign" his little sister pointed out matter-of-factly.

He crossed his arms in surrender, sulking. "Fine. What do you wanna know?"

Mrs Yagami lit up, starting to list her fingers. "If there's something bothering you, what it is –if you want to tell us that but you don't have to, if and how you are handling it, and how it's working."

He blinked. "How about we go back o the gay-thing again?"

"Is that the issue?"

He slumped his shoulders. "No."

"Well then!"

"Wait, wait!" Hikari interrupted, holding up a hand. "I want to know!"

"Yeah, I'm also curious," Mr Yagami agreed.

Mrs Yagami sighed dramatically, giving up. "Fine, but after that I want my answers," she demanded, practically obsessed. For an agreement they just rolled their eyes.

A short silence followed.

"Tai?"

The brunet jumped. "Right. Yeah… um." He took a moment to think. "I'd say bi leaning towards gay. Ish."

The elder male nodded. Then he turned to Hikari. "That means…?"

"That means," Taichi took up, "a girl would have to be pretty damn hot- I mean beautiful," he corrected, grinning nervously at his mother's narrowed eyes. "for me to date her, and a dude can be… average."

"You slut!" Hikari exclaimed.

He grinned back. "It's theoretical of course"

"Just use a condom and think before acting. Oh, and Hikari, don't say slut. Especially not to your brother." Mrs Yagami was really starting to grow a headache.

"Right, any suggestions? Stud? There're only positive names for men!" she protested.

Taichi nodded thoughtfully. "That's true, I actually can't think of any names other than pissed off women would use, you know like 'pig' or 'bastard' and that's not even specific."

"Fascinating," Mr Yagami spoke up, receiving a kick in the leg. "Ow! Oh, okay –kids, shut up and listen to your mother."

She sighed darkly, waiting for the younger generation to fully pay attention –it always took an extra couple of seconds. "Tai, sweetie?" she then started with a smile, but shortly frowned as they all groaned, even her husband.

"Mom, just say what you have to say and stop trying to sound like a mother" her son complained, not able to hide a grin.

"You know that hurt" she informed him in all earnest, jumping to the conclusion that she was a bad mom.

"…I mean mother in a bad way," he argued, not really getting why she was offended. "Y'know, like old-fashioned, overprotective and embarrassing? One that uses the word 'sweetie'?" He made a face to prove his point.

"You'll never be that kind of mother and we're very happy for that, mom" Hikari filled in, magically convincing Mrs Yagami that she was more than enough.

"Alright. Tai," she started, answered with a nod and an already warningly big smile. "are you troubled by anything?"

He shifted and placed his elbows on the table, ready to discuss. "So here the deal; I have a… thing going on that could be mistaken for a problem but it's not and I'm working on it, and I'm handling it better and better by each day, damn near perfectly by now if I do say so myself, and I'm not letting it get to me and I refuse to see it as a problem because it has to be done and I might as well have the right spirit since that will only speed things up."

His mother tilted her head, completely ignoring his encouraged smile and optimistic words. "You don't want to tell us what it is?"

"Not really, it's not a big deal and I'm handling it fine by myself."

By now, Taichi's manic smile (and not the good kind) was back, and the rest of the Yagami family silently nodded, exchanging sad glances. They all knew that whatever it was, and whether it would be over soon or not, Taichi would not be okay for a while, and there was no way they could help out.

"Thanks for the dinner mom, it was delicious, and oh you guys are great the way you took the come-out, not that I doubted you really, but I'm glad it's not a problem for either of us, hey I think I'm gonna go for a run, see you guys later-"

And Taichi was out the door.


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The same evening

He was in an empty room. He couldn't tell how big, but it was enough to echo. One stream of light came from above, lighting up a circle around him, leaving the shadows around to hide the rest of the emptiness. No one was there, no one could hear. No one disturbing or to be considered.

He could finally scream at the top of his lungs.

It was a hidden dream he'd had for years in the back of his head. It seemed far away; to go all out, holding nothing back and just… see how loud you could be.

It wasn't about frustration or rage or fear. Just freedom.

The idea thrilled him, and he often let his thoughts carry him there. First the complete silence. Simply that was mind blowing. Then the space, reaching miles around him. That followed by the darkness.

Then screaming at the top of his lungs, throwing arms out and head back, feet steady on the ground, giving nothing less than everything.

When exhausted, he would just lie there, savoring the silence and the feeling of space and emptiness around him. When completely relaxed, almost numb by the stillness, he would start playing. Peacefully at first, then increasingly passionate and unhindered. Unashamed. He would play and sing for as long as he wanted, as loud as he wanted, allowing himself to get completely caught up by it. For hours…

"Yamato?"

"Yes?"

"I thought I'd grab something to eat. Are you hungry?"

"Sure."

He got off the bed and walked up to his bedroom door, opening it and quietly making his way pass his father, heading towards the kitchen.

Still standing in the doorway to his son's room, Mr Ishida sighed. It wasn't just the lack of eye contact –it was the lack of contact in general. Yamato was on a whole other planet. Completely numb. Not… out of it, but sort of immune. Isolated.

He shook his head, giving up the endless analyze and walked into the kitchen.

"Let's talk" he ordered, angrily ignoring the fact that it sounded like a joke. Talk?

Not that Yamato would refuse to –that would be normal behavior from his son's side. Here, he wanted to take as little space as possible, not being difficult, and keep out of his dad's way. Funny thing was that Yamato's quietness caught Hiroaki's attention more than any rebellious outbreaks and spites ever had.

"Okay." Somehow figuring what his dad wanted –and would have the chance to complain over if Yamato didn't think first- he turned away from his activity, which was throwing together some sandwiches to eat, and approached the table. Sitting down, he faced his father.

Mr Ishida had always been forced to demand his son to look at him. Because when they actually had a conversation it was always about a problem that needed to be solved, and the case was often Yamato being furious with him or vice versa. Therefore eye contact was hard to get.

Right now, Yamato avoided any difficulties by looking patiently into his eyes, face neutral and hypocritically cooperative. To his slight shock Mr Ishida noted that this would've been perfect in their everyday life. No fights, terrific teamwork but no real connection whatsoever. Time saving.

Uninterrupted, he sat there pondering for a few minutes, before blinking and returning to reality. Yamato looked up as well, obviously having thought of something else in the meantime. If he did think.

"How's the playing going?" he asked, taking a chance and feeling his heart speed up slightly as something was lit in those blue eyes. A happy kind of surprise mixed with confusion, then the fake cooperation.

"I haven't played in a while"

"Oh." He briefly thought of using the confession to continue on that topic, but his son's expression told him that he had nothing more to say in the area.

"Are you happy?"

That couldn't be answered without at least some emotion.

There was a delay, indicating that the question was odd and quite out of the blue. "Pretty much"

Apparently, it could.

"Are you happy, dad?"

He looked up, for a second believing that his son was actually wondering. Challenging him. Criticizing his life and his relation with people around him. Knowing that he was the same. Secretly searching for some kind of hope.

But it was said with an annoying ease that only therapists seem to have achieved with using those words daily.

"Sure," he sighed. It didn't matter what he said, Yamato would still nod quietly, not taking the conversation further.

"Are you in love?" Well, here goes everything.

The blond seemed to become even less personal with this question. As if protecting himself. More fake.

"No."

He didn't tense up, rather the opposite. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking 'got another stupid question for me?', but still with the respect and false cooperation Mr Ishida could see among some of his co-workers.

"That's it –you're grounded!" he suddenly barked, just waiting for the teenager to snap and return. He told himself that it was an attempt to startle him out of his bubble, but the fact was rather that he couldn't take the inhumanity his son expressed.

Yamato frowned in confusion, but soon got over it, returning to his fake respecting with just a hint of the first emotion shown for a while now that his father recognized. Contempt.

"If you say so," he replied, waiting until Hiroaki looked down before rising to his feet and fetching his sandwiches.

When things like this happened –not too often; it wasn't a very effective punishment seeing as Mr Ishida wasn't home enough to really watch him- it was the center of the universe. It was all Yamato could focus on and therefore he would be furious the whole time.

Right now, he could tell that Yamato had other things to deal with. If anything, this was only a pleasant distraction.

Beside the obvious lack of talking and reacting, Yamato had also changed by improved his schoolwork. He seemed perfectly happy with having something as boring as homework to do, where he could escape from himself and still feel useful.

Mr Ishida understood completely. But this was about his seventeen year old son, and that was alarming.

Frustrated, Mr Ishida retired to his office, to escape from himself and glut in working over time, stubbornly ignoring the irony.


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Saturday, 2.37 PM

She clenched and unclenched his fists. A habit she'd always had when nervous or worried in some way.

She'd done it on her first date, before every single speech that had to be done in front of the class, before the talk with her mom, when she once thought she'd lost her passport, before important games in tennis –although that was mostly a good kind of nervous.

This was not.

Yet, she hadn't felt so determined in a long time. That scared her a little; it was actually going to happen, no matter how it would turn out she was going to do it. There was no turning back.

Another habit was doubting at the very last second that she'd gotten everything right. It was the right place, wasn't it? She checked the number again before rolling her eyes. She had been here a few times, and she had a good memory.

Everything Taichi had told her –and not told her- still existed, right? It wasn't just her amazing fantasy going off on it's own accord again, was it?

She shook her head, scowling. Clenched and unclenched her fists.

The door opened, revealing a tall middle-aged man with an elegant but very tired appearance.

Mentally cursing her jumping guts, she put an enormous smile on her face. "Konnichiwa, Ishida-san!"

He looked terrifyingly confused and slightly disturbed at first, causing Sora to jump to all kinds of uncomfortable conclusions.

"Ah." Recognition then crossed his face, joined by a surprisingly welcoming warmth, shortly followed by awkwardness. "I'm sorry…?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, finally realizing that it was the right apartment and she was apparently an accepted visitor, and he had only happened to forget her name. "Takanouchi Sora" she introduced, bowing slightly.

He nodded, remembering. "How are you, Sora-san?"

"I'm fine, thank you. Um, is Yamato-kun in?"

The man suddenly looked troubled, lost in thought. Then he blinked, shaking his head a bit hesitatingly. "He is. But I don't know if he wants to talk to anyone," he admitted apologetically.

Sora smiled in reassurance. "I figured that. But I'm going to talk to him whether he likes it or not," she claimed, blushing slightly over being so forward. Mr Ishida looked surprised. Then an impressed smile slowly spread over his face.

"Well in that case, come right in"


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Here's the good part: I've got the next chapter half done, and it's already longer than this one :) so I'm not gonna take forever this time, plus I'll try to get it done before school starts again and steals all of my time -sob- Hopefully around end of august/september? If not, then see you at Christmas! ;)

Now, your job: Review!

I don't care who you are, when you started reading, what you think, or how lazy you are -if you've taken the time to read all of this then you can take the time to review! :D you'll make a swedish girl very happy X)