A/N:

I lied! -gasp- There is no epilogue. Epilogues belong in stories that are ending for good. This is a finale!

BIG ANNOUNCEMENT! I've recently realized that I am the least consistent person in the world. I've finally decided that this story does, in fact, take place in Japan. So why are there so many American names? I've fixed that now. Please note the changes. Or don't note the changes. They're there, either way. In fact, if you do note the changes, I'll give you something nice! I'll even start you off. I've changed the names of Professor Green, Jake, Mrs. Necrophades, May, Josh, Rex Raptor, Simon, and Solomon.

Also, the school's courtyard and grounds are the same thing. Just clearing that up before I confuse you all right off the bat.

Disclaimer:

Yu-Gi-Oh! is not mine. Rats. Maybe next time.


Friday, Domino High School Grounds, After School, Graduation

The sun shone brightly that day, reflecting off of the glossy paint jobs on the cars in the parking lot. It was graduation day for Domino High's seniors, but that wasn't why the press was there on that day. Today was also the day that the sons of three influential billionaire families would graduate from high school and move on to the next stage in their lives. That's why the press was present, crowded onto the sidewalk by the school. Due to the attention of the press, the graduation ceremony was kept to friends and family only. Reporters from newspapers, magazines, and television stations lined the streets, each hoping for a scoop on the Ahknemkhanen, the Tokoshie, and the Necrophades families.

Inside the school courtyard, the principal had just finished handing out diplomas to the seniors. Their royal blue graduation gowns and caps made standing out in the hot sun even worse, so the principal was in a rush to finish the ceremony before anyone passed out from heat stroke. After the principal finished his final speech, the seniors broke out of their lines to go find their friends amidst the cheering throng of parents and friends. The reporters banged on the gates to the school grounds, trying to get the attention of anyone who would give them information.

Yami, Marik, and Bakura stood side by side under the shade of their favorite tree, trying not to be seen by their parents just yet. Bakura and Yami wanted a few more minutes to themselves before they were swept away in the ocean of reporters by their parents, who believed that media coverage was important for success. Yami's eyes swept across the sea of students and parents. By the gates, he noticed Mr. and Mrs. Necrophades enthusiastically answering questions that were no doubt about their son. "Any sign of my family?" Yami asked anxiously.

"None," Marik replied gloomily, twisting a strand of his blond hair around his index finger.

"Something wrong?" Bakura asked casually, still scanning the crowd.

"Just thinking," the senior replied quickly, snapping out of his despondent state. He had been thinking about his parents. When he was younger, they always made a big fuss out of academics. To see their son graduate high school had always been high on their priority list. He sighed inwardly before noticing two people out of the corner of his eye. "Yami, I see them."

"Shit," Yami cursed. He grabbed Bakura by the elbow and hauled him around to the other side of the tree, quickly followed by Marik. The three seniors collapsed to the ground and huddled together. "We cannot let them find us."

"Let who find you?" Malik asked curiously.

Marik quickly pulled Malik down towards him. "Don't let them see you!"

"And where the hell did you even come from?!" Bakura asked in a bewildered tone. He looked around quickly. "Did anyone see you?"

"Dunno," Malik replied, "So, who are you hiding from?"

"My parents," Yami answered agitatedly, "They want to turn the media loose on us."

"Oh, do they now?" Malik grinned devilishly.

"Don't even think about it," Marik warned harshly, "Or you're not allowed to come over today."

Malik laughed, giving the other blond a knowing smirk. "You're bluffing, and we all know it." His expression shifted dramatically to an almost guilty, worried look when he remembered why he had been searching out his significant other in the first place. "Hey, Marik? I need to tell you something important."

"There you all are!"

Standing in front of the four boys was a very serious looking lady in a navy power suit and heels. Her jet black hair was pulled into a tight bun, and only a few gray strands fell in front of her piercing crimson eyes. She was glaring fiercely at Yami and tapping her foot impatiently on the ground.

"H-Hello, Mother," Yami greeted weakly, turning pale. "Did you enjoy the ceremony?" he asked in an attempt to divert her attention.

"Why aren't you out there answering questions?! Do you know how many reporters are out there?!" Mrs. Ahknemkhanen ranted furiously at the three graduates, "This is a golden opportunity for you all! All of those people want to here about your accomplishments, and you're just hiding behind a tree! For heaven's sake, boys!" When none of them made a move to leave, her eye twitched. "Go!!"

The three teens shot up and all but ran away, leaving Malik alone with the angry woman. "Uhm," Malik began awkwardly, "I don't think we've met yet. I'm Malik Ishtar."

"Adria Ahknemkhanen," the lady said, attempting to control her temper, "It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Ishtar, but I have more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. If you'll excuse me, I have to make sure those three aren't looking for another hiding place." And with that, she strode away purposefully.

"Well!" Malik stated simply, standing up and brushing himself off. He left the shade of the tree and crossed the courtyard, smirking when he saw Bakura, Marik, and Yami standing helplessly in front of a sea of reporters with Yami's and Bakura's parents at their backs.


Saturday, Necrophades Estate, Late Afternoon

Ryou and Bakura walked up the path to the Necrophades' mansion together, hand-in-hand. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky, and the sun was beating down powerfully, heating up the air until it was almost unbearable. Bakura opened up the front door, and the two teens stepped inside into the large, air conditioned foyer. Ryou let out a sigh as the cool air hit him. Bakura threw his keys on the floor and pulled Ryou along across the foyer into the large, state of the art kitchen.

"Want anything to drink?" Bakura asked, opening up the refrigerator and peering inside of it.

"Just water thanks," Ryou replied, leaning against the island in the middle of the room. "So you said you had something to tell me?"

Instead of replying, Bakura grabbed two envelopes off of the counter and tossed them at Ryou. One was very official-looking with mail labels printed pasted onto it. The other was slightly crumpled and looked worn out. The address was handwritten in pencil and smudged in places. Both were opened at the top. Ryou reached into the first envelope and pulled out a form letter.

"Bakura Necrophades,

We are very pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Rawlings University. The Rawlings staff are very appreciative that you have chosen to apply here, and we are confident that our campus will meet all of your needs. Enclosed is a course list and separate book lists that you will need for each class. We hope to see you this upcoming fall!

-The Rawlings Staff

"Rawlings University?" Ryou asked, confusion showing on his face, "I've never heard of that school before." (1)

"Best basketball school in Japan," Bakura stated proudly, popping a cracker into his mouth. While Ryou had been examining the letters, Bakura had moved over to the pantry to find something to munch. "By the way, your water's sitting next to you," the older teen said carelessly, pointing to the spot by Ryou's elbow.

"Oh, thanks," Ryou answered distantly, curious about the contents of the second letter. He reached in and pulled out a tattered piece of notebook paper.

Bakura,

Hey, it's Ez. Listen, I really can't go into much detail here, but you can all give up your manhunt for me now. It's bothersome, and I'm never coming back. You, mom, and dad have been great, but I can't live like that. Don't get me wrong here. I'm grateful to you guys, but all of that fame stuff isn't for me. You remember Rebecca Hawkins, right? Well, we aren't even in Japan anymore. It's complicated, but don't try and understand. You might hurt yourself if you think too hard, and I don't want to tell you too much right now in case my note gets intercepted. Take care of Togu and Aina. They're definitely an odd couple, but those two were alright to me.

-Ez

All Ryou could do was stare at the crumpled paper in shock. "Bakura, what does she mean by 'intercepted'?"

"She means that she fled Japan to escape her gang," Bakura replied lightly, munching on another cracker. He offered the box to the younger teen, "Want one?"

"What?!" he nearly shrieked, tumbling backwards. Bakura quickly placed a hand on the small boy's back to steady him. "Her gang?!"

"Yeah," the senior said, dragging the word out as if asking a question, "What, it wasn't obvious to you?" Ryou just shook his head. "Oh. Well that's different then," he stated, popping another cracker into his mouth, "I don't know why my parents didn't notice it. She was always leaving at ungodly hours of the night, and she never told anyone where she went when she wasn't at school. They never really took a good look around her room, either," he continued nonchalantly, as if he was merely chatting about the weather, "She always cleaned it by herself so they wouldn't notice all of the knives and spare bullets."

Ryou, completely thrown off, could only manage to reply with a short "Oh".

Bakura studied his boyfriend's face carefully for any underlying emotions, but Ryou just looked stunned. 'Culture shock,' he guessed, dismissing their conversation in favor of his own devices.

All of a sudden Ryou found himself sitting on the countertop while Bakura hastily undid the buttons on his button-up shirt and assaulted his mouth. Ryou parted his lips willingly and latched on to the sides of the counter for support. Sliding his skilled hands up Ryou's pale sides, Bakura moved down to nip at the sensitive skin on his boyfriend's collar bone. The younger teen writhed and whimpered, driving Bakura out of his mind. When Ryou wrapped his legs around Bakura's waist, the older teen took the opportunity to pick Ryou up right off of the countertop. Locking his arms around his boyfriend's neck quickly, Ryou pulled out of the kiss. He looked up at Bakura with a startled look on his face. Bakura ignored Ryou's alarm and captured his lips again.

In the back of his mind, Ryou wondered how Bakura was managing to navigate through the Necrophades' mansion while carrying him and kissing him senseless. Due to said senseless kissing, Ryou didn't even bother to acknowledge that he had even thought that.

A few staircases, hallways, and stumbles into walls later, they reached the familiar door with the "Bakura's Room" sign on it. Bakura kicked it open and crossed to the bed, throwing Ryou down on it and climbing on top of him. Something registered in the back of Ryou's mind, and he pushed up hard on Bakura's shoulders. The older teen ignored Ryou completely. After a few more shoves, Ryou gave up and bit down on Bakura's lip, breaking the skin. He pulled away from Ryou quickly and ran his tongue over his damaged flesh. "What the hell was that for?!"

Instead of answering his boyfriend, Ryou got up off of the bed and stared around with wide eyes. At first he was going to chastise Bakura for making his room look like a landfill, but on closer inspection he realized everything in the room was something of his that had gone missing. Not to mention the fact that the wallpaper in the room was completely covered with photos of Ryou. The teen just stood there with his mouth slightly open, unable to process what he was seeing.

Bakura, realizing the severity of the situation, backed away from Ryou. He stared in fear as Ryou turned in his spot to take in the rest of the room. After three minutes of silence, Ryou returned his gaze to Bakura. His warm brown eyes were hardened, showing a mix of anger, disbelief, and a hint of amusement. "What's all this then?" he asked in a clipped tone.

"Well, Ryou," Bakura began, clearing his throat nervously, "I, uh, found a new hobby recently, and-"

"What?!" Ryou nearly shrieked, taking a threatening step towards Bakura.

"I don't do it anymore," Bakura defended weakly, stepping back.

"Why would you even do something like this?" Ryou asked accusingly, trying to control his temper.

"Because I missed you," he stated simply. When Ryou just gave him a skeptical look, Bakura added, "A lot."

Ryou sighed heavily, wondering about Bakura's questionable sanity and it's affects on his questionable sanity. "It all has to go," he ordered.

Bakura looked disheartened. He shuffled his feet over to his nightstand and picked up a battered teddy bear. "Can I at least keep this?" he asked, hugging it tightly.


Saturday, Tokoshie Estate, Late Afternoon

Malik sat on the large bed in Marik's bedroom, waiting for him to come back from the kitchen. He clutched a single white envelope in his hands and stared at the floor with a look of misery on his face. The teen cast his gaze around the room for lack of anything better to do. The floors were a simple hardwood, and the walls were just plain paneling. There were a few windows with white molding framing them. Contrasting with the plain shell of them room was the furniture. In the corner of one room was a bench press machine with large weights on a rack against the wall. By the door stood a rack with a set of twenty dumbbells. The room contained many other machines that were used for weight training, but Malik had no idea what they were called or how to use them. The bed he was sitting on was low to the ground and in the shape of a circle. Numerous white pillows sat at the top of the bed. Letting out a breath of air, the teen let himself fall back heavily onto the comfy mattress.

Marik opened the door and walked into his room carrying a box of crackers and a fancy looking envelope. Spotting Malik on the bed, the teen made his way through the maze of equipment and sat down next to his boyfriend. "Want a cracker?" he asked, offering the box to Malik.

"Er, no thanks," Malik replied, sitting up. He looked his boyfriend straight in the eye, willing himself not to back down, "I have something important to tell you."

"Oh?" Marik asked, nibbling on the end of a cracker, "So do I. You first, though."

"Alright," Malik agreed, taking a deep breath, "I sent a letter and a recording of myself playing the pipe organ recently to be considered for a spot as an organ student to one of the best organists in the world."

"Really?" Marik asked, popping the last bits of a cracker into his mouth and pulling another out of the box.

"Yeah," the blond continued happily, "And he wrote me back! He said that he'd take me on as a student!"

"That's great!" Marik exclaimed, "Where does this guy live?"

Malik's gaze faltered. He looked down at his hands. "Berlin, Germany."

You could have heard a pin drop. Dead silence enveloped the two teens. Malik was too afraid to look up and see Marik's reaction, instead looking at the floor. After a few seconds, Marik spoke up. "Germany?"

"Yeah," Malik confirmed, looking up at Marik uncertainly.

"You can't go to Germany," Marik stated, shaking his head.

"Why not?" he asked, feeling his temper rise slightly.

"Because you have to go to America with me," the older teen informed him, standing up.

Malik stood up as well, shocked by what Marik had just said. "America?!" he asked in disbelief, "Why?!"

Marik held up the envelope he had been holding. "I was accepted to Atkins University in Colorado, and I thought it'd be nice if you came along. But if you want to run off to Berlin, then by all means go," he finished angrily, sounding hurt. (2)

"Marik…," Malik nearly whispered, reaching out to touch his forearm lightly, "I didn't mean it like that. I didn't know you wanted me to come with you, but even if had known I wouldn't have gone. This is something I really want to do, and an opportunity like this comes maybe once in a lifetime! I know it's going to be hard to be apart for so long, but I still want to try!" he explained in a pleading tone, hoping to placate his boyfriend.

Malik's confession sounded too well-rehearsed to Marik, but he let himself fall back onto his bed anyway, looking defeated. "How am I supposed to argue with that?"


Saturday, Ahknemkhanen Estate, Night

Yami sighed, stabbing the plate of food in front of him with his fork. He was sitting alone in the lavish dining room, waiting for his parents to get home. She had called him from her office over an hour ago, telling him hurriedly to wait for her at the dinner table. She had received a piece of news that morning that was apparently important enough for Yami's father to leave the office early and come home for. Yami couldn't even begin to imagine what was so important. His father never came home from his office before midnight.

The door opened slowly and a very stem looking man with slick black hair strolled through. He was wearing an immaculate black suit and hadn't bothered taking his sunglasses off. A single tanned hand raised in greeting before the man took a seat at the far end of the table, opposite of Yami.

"Hello, Father," the teen greeted in a clipped tone, setting his fork down.

The man gave a curt nod. "Atem," he said.

Yami nearly rolled his eyes at his father's use of his real name. He hated his given name. His parents had always had an odd fascination with Egypt. Atem, they had told him, was a name fit for a pharaoh, or, in his case, the heir of a major corporation. The only problem was that, being from Japan, his odd name singled him out almost as much as his lineage did. His first real friend was Marik, who also had an Egyptian name. The other children in their elite boarding school avoided the two due to their upstanding families. Even though they were enrolled in a special school for such children, their families were so wealthy that the other students wouldn't associate with either Yami or Marik. Because of this, the two grew up with only each other as friends. Bakura entered their lives later on in junior high. He was the only one who didn't seem to care about their odd names or their reclusiveness because he was the same way.

The door to the dining room burst open loudly, and Yami's mother marched in carrying an official looking envelope in one hand and a briefcase in another. Behind her walked a butler carrying two trays of food. The butler set one down in front of Mr. Ahknemkhanen and another right next to it. Mrs. Ahknemkhanen sat down in front of her plate, and the butler disappeared through the door, leaving the family alone together.

"Hello, Mother," Yami greeted in the same tone he had used previously with his father, shifting his gaze to her without moving his head.

"Atem," she replied hurriedly, ignoring the scathing look her son gave her, "I have big news."

"I'd gathered," he replied boredly, picking his fork up again and picking at his food.

Mrs. Ahknemkhanen opened up the envelope and began to read aloud. "Salutations, Mr. Ahknemkhanen. We are writing to inform you that you have been selected from a large group of candidates to attend the prestigious Japanese University of Business. Enclosed is a full syllabus of every course we offer. We look forward to your enrollment. Sincerely, The Japanese University of Business main office," she finished importantly. She stared hard at her son, waiting for his reaction to the news.

Yami just stared back. "Okay?"

"Okay? Okay?! Don't you know what this means?" she asked in bewilderment, "It means you will be attending the finest business school in Japan! This college was also my alma mater as well as your father's," she finished proudly.

"That's great then," Yami said, trying to muster up some enthusiasm for the sake of his parents when all he really wanted to do was get the hell away from them as soon as possible.

"Of course it is, Son," Yami's father stated, chewing a piece of food thoughtfully, "If you're going to run our empire someday, then this college is the only choice."

"Super," the teen replied, pushing his chair back and standing up, "Thanks for everything, you guys. Really." And with that, he strode out the door, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Ahknemkhanen to ponder their son's behavior.

Up and up the stairs Yami climbed. Down hallways, up staircases, through doors, up more staircases until it seemed that he couldn't possibly climb any higher. As he made his way up the last staircase and into a lone hallway at the very top of the house, he began to breathe easier. To him, it seemed as if just being so far away from everyone else lightened the burden of his parents' expectations. In this small hallway was a single door. It was a plain wooden door. No fancy etchings, odd colors, or adornments to mark it as anything out of the ordinary. Just a simple door. Turning the handle on this door, Yami entered his most favorite place in the world: his bedroom.

It was small, to say the least. Compared to the enormous estate, Yami's room was more of a closet. There was a plain twin bed with white sheets and a dark wood frame. A desk made of the same wood stood next to a lone, large window covered by a big, white curtain. The carpet was plushy and as pure white as the sheets and the curtain. The only colorful piece in the room was a single painting. It was of the large oak tree growing in the Domino High School courtyard.


Sunday, Saint Mark's Church, Morning (3)

Ryou trailed along behind his parents, tugging at the collar of his dress shirt. He sneezed quietly into his shirt sleeve, looking miserable. Despite his protests, they told him that he had missed too many church services already and had to come along this time. After the last time he had gone to a service, the teen was slowly shying away from the religion he had clung to for dear life in the past. Rolling his eyes skyward, he wondered why he couldn't be at home watching television instead.

As they went through the familiar doors of the church, Ryou spotted the pastor in his usual spot greeting the congregation. Making his way over, the teen offered the older man a smile. "Hey, Pastor Hikaru."

"Ah, Ryou," the man acknowledged cheerily, "How nice to see you again. You came at just the right time, too. I have something to discuss with you."

"Oh?" Ryou asked with his eyebrows raised. He had a sneaking suspicion of what the discussion would be about.

"I would first like to welcome you back to us, Ryou. We all missed you very much," he said sincerely, "And I am also wondering when you'd like to start classes."

"Classes?" Ryou asked, thoroughly confused. He quirked an eyebrow up at the older man, "Classes for what?"

"Why, classes to help you, of course!" the priest chuckled, as if Ryou had told him a funny joke.

The teen's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why would I need help?"

Hikaru stopped laughing abruptly. "Well, you obviously didn't get the help you need at that clinic your parents sent you. I merely assumed that you were returning to the church so that we may help you instead."

"So now you have a problem with me, too?" Ryou snapped coldly, folding his arms over his chest defensively. In the back of his mind, he wondered just when exactly he had started to act so much like Bakura.

"While I am opposed to your, erm, lifestyle," the man stated nervously, "I have nothing against you as a person. It is the other members of the church I worry about as well as you, Ryou. Many of us are vehemently against homosexuality, and I fear that you will feel unwelcome."

"Well, maybe the only solution for me then would be to just never come back," Ryou concluded indignantly, "Wouldn't that solve everyone's problems?"

"Ryou, my boy, you are missing the point!" Hikaru cried sadly, "Running away from your problems will not solve them. Why don't you just schedule a few classes with me, and we'll take it from there?" He made his suggestion in an almost pitying tone, and Ryou knew exactly what was running through the man's head. Without another word, the teen spun around and walked right out the door.

The warm air helped to soothe his frazzled nerves as he stood on the sidewalk, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. He couldn't help but be confused at himself, though. He had never been that angry before at anyone who obviously meant well. Laughing quietly to himself, he concluded that he had been spending too much time around Bakura. Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he dialed a very familiar number and put it up to his ear. It was answered a few rings later.

"Hey, Ryou," the voice of Bakura came through the speakers.

"Hey, Bakura," Ryou greeted back, feeling the last traces of anger leave him at the sound of his boyfriend's voice, "Can you come pick me up?"

"Whatever. You're at that church place, yeah?"

"Unfortunately. How long will you be?"

"Five minutes tops," Bakura replied smugly.

"See you then," Ryou concluded, snapping his phone shut. Slipping the device back into his pocket, he walked back to the church building and sat down on the stone steps to wait.

After a few minutes, a cherry red convertible came speeding down the road. It slowed to a stop by the curb, and the person driving it got out. After pulling off his sunglasses, the teen shook his shaggy white hair out of his face and grinned at Ryou. "You called?"

Ryou just laughed, clutching at his sides. Bakura stood there, blinking bemusedly for a few seconds while he waited for Ryou to calm down. "You sure do know how to make an entrance," the younger teen commented with one last chuckle, standing up and walking over to the other teen.

"It's part of my devilish charm," Bakura said with an offhand shrug, heading around the car and opening the door for Ryou to get in. After getting around to the driver's side and turning the engine on again, Bakura pecked Ryou quickly on the lips before straightening back up. "Where to, Boss?" he asked cheerily.

Ryou frowned and hooked an arm around Bakura's neck, pulling him back down so that their noses nearly touched. "That wasn't nearly good enough, I'm afraid."

"What have I done to you, my sweet, innocent Ryou?" the older teen asked happily, clearly enjoying himself immensely.


Monday, Domino City Airport, Afternoon

Standing in front of the large window that gave passengers waiting a full view of the tarmac, Yuugi suddenly felt very small. He put his hand up to the glass and stared out at all of the airplanes. Yami came up behind him and placed his hand over his boyfriend's. Yuugi smiled at their reflection, and his smile widened when Yami mirrored the action. "I'll never see him again," Yuugi stated plainly, gazing back out as an airplane took off.

"Are you sad?" Yami asked curiously, resting his chin on top of Yuugi's head.

"Not really," he confessed, "I know I should since he's my dad and everything, but I can only handle so many control freaks in my life."

"Yeah," Yami agreed. His brows furrowed as he realized what Yuugi said. "Hey!"

Yuugi laughed melodically. "I'm only joking, Yami."

"Ah, there you boys are," Sugoroku called, walking up to him. He was followed by a dour looking Roku carrying his briefcase. Yami and Yuugi spun around, keeping their hands together. Yuugi moved to stand beside Yami, giving his boyfriend a reassuring smile.

"My flight is boarding now. I would like one final word with Yuugi," Roku said, almost asking Yami's permission.

Yuugi looked at Yami quickly before untangling their hands and following Roku to a spot by the line to get on the flight. He quirked his eyebrow at his father. "Yes?"

"You and Sugoroku may have won this time, Yuugi, but mark my words I will be back for you. I am still your father and I will find a way to gain custody of you," Roku told him somewhat hushedly, staring at his son intently and somewhat angrily.

"Good luck with that," Yuugi told him, somewhat sarcastically.

"Hide your fear behind your sarcasm, Yuugi, because all you ever do is hide. Just like your mother," Roku spat, and with that he spun around and entered the tunnel to the plane to catch his flight just as they were closing the door.

Yuugi's mask of indifference broke and he suddenly felt like crying. Walking back to Yami and Sugoroku, he attempted to put atleast a small smile back on his face for their sake.

"What did he say?" Sugoroku asked curiously.

"Nothing out of line, I hope," Yami stated, grabbing Yuugi's hand again and giving it a squeeze. He had seen every emotion on Yuugi's face before the small teen had managed to look unconcerned again, and he had nearly marched onto the plane after Roku and gave him something to think about. All he wanted to do was to hold Yuugi and make him confess what was on his mind as well as what his father had said. There would be plenty of time for talking later, though.

"I'm fine, Yami," Yuugi stated to himself as well as to his boyfriend. Somehow, saying those words and holding the older teen's hand made him feel better already. "Let's just go, okay?"

Together, the three of them walked back towards the exit of the airport as another plane took off behind them into the bright blue sky.


A/N:

And they all lived happily ever after. Okay, not really. That would be boring.

I'm going to miss this story. It really was a learning experience for me. Pun intended, of course. All of your comments gave me such amazing inspiration and confidence in myself. I'm the type of person who would write something and be too afraid to post it, but you lot have been nothing but kind to me! I will never forget any of you for as long as I live!

Wow. Try saying goodbye to a fanfiction you've been working on for nearly a year and listening to "Come Sail Away" by Styx at the same time. I might actually choke up. But seriously, go give it a listen.

Hm, I know I've mentioned it a million times, but it still feels like I'm keeping a secret. No one reads the author's notes anyway. FREE PORN!! Are you paying attention now? Okay good. I am, in fact, planning a sequel to this. I mean, come on, this is a terrible way to end something! Everybody is leaving each other! If you guys don't want me to write a sequel, I totally won't, but I'm just saying it would be way better than this. Well thought out, proper grammar, reasonable update times, prewritten content, coherent plotline…

The ramble-fest is over! Go outside and play!

-VenusOfHecate

Footnotes:

1: Totally made that up. I just took the name of a brand of basketball and turned it into a college. Because I can. Also, I have no idea what a college acceptance letter looks like, but I imagine it would go something like that.

2: Also made that up. I think. I never checked to see if any of these are actual schools…

3: I just realized that Christianity isn't popular in Japan. So lets just pretend it is.

4: Technically this isn't a footnote, but I've just realized that American football and basketball are probably not that popular in Japan. Let's pretend they are?