Whew! So sorry for the lateness, but if I've said it once, I'll say it again; school really knows how to pile it on. I've had at least 6 standardized tests this year plus four practices! I'm pretty sure it's holding me back from my true potential. (How contradictory does that sound?[:)
But you guys have been absolutely amazing! I am only one, one review away from one hundred! One hundred freaking reviews? I was like, holy crap! And you know what, not a bad one in the bunch! That is an astonishing feat!
For the hundredth reviewer, I will do something amazing for...I'm just not sure what yet.(Something to do with the story if you like?) But the rest of you deserve just as much salute, so thank you so much once again! I'd like to thank the academy...'cept I don't know any of them! So thank you all readers, I hope to make you proud!
Song of the Day: Like You by Evanescence
Britt: *blows party horn* A hundred reviews? Now that is what I'm talking about(:
Naruto: They like me! They really like me!
Me: I'm still not sure how we survived that explosion...why do the laws of physics never apply in anime?
Naruto: *grins* 'Cause we're awesome.
Britt: Btw, where's Grumpy?
Me: Safe and sound in his nice, comfy straight jacket.
Gaara: Mmmnmggh mmmf ggrh!
Me: That means on with the show!
Disclaimer: I don't own. But I can still make them dance.
Tell age it daily wasteth;
Tell honor how it alters;
Tell beauty how she blasteth;
Tell favor how it falters:
And as they shall reply,
Give every one the lie.
Sir Walter Ralegh, The Lie
The first thing I realized upon waking was: I wasn't dead.
Stupid, I know. What is even stupider is the fact that this both alerted and startled me so much, that I flung myself upwards, much to my stomach's immediate protest. I gagged, not even caring of my surroundings as I sought a place to empty my belly.
It was then a large bowl was pushed into my vision and I saw the girl holding it. Although I had a fairly reasonable amount of questions, my bodily reactions were a more pressing matter and I heaved straight into the bowl provided. Though I felt immediately embarrassed afterwards.
"Ew," I murmured, literally drained, "so fucking disgusting."
"Well, pleased to meet you too," said the girl sarcastically.
"No," I wheezed, my face flushing with shame. "Not you. I- I-"
"Relax," she said flippiantly. "Puking right now is actually a good thing."
"Oh, it's wonderful, you must try it some time," I muttered with as much sarcasm as I could muster. I was feeling particularly snarky today. And I don't see in anyway how puking your guts out could be considered a good thing.
She shook her head in what might have been silent laughter, or maybe just exasperation, "You must have gotten into the red berries. They do a number on you, and for you who is obviously not a local, they are potentially lethal. Puking is the best way to get the toxin out of your system."
I groaned, drowning my face in my hands and letting the sweat slip past my palms and fingertips. She sighed, and I felt her push my reluctant hands away and drop a cool rag onto my face like an egg sunny-side up.
Growling, I placed it above my eye-line and humphed, "You need to work on your bedside manner, you hear?"
Her eyes rolled, and I saw her concentrating more on fumbling with the bowl of water. Obviously, she could care less about what I think. Illness made me quick to always give a witty remark, but it was then my bumbling mind caught up to shove my foot in my mouth.
It all sunk in and I sheepishly glanced at the so-called angel, "You...totally saved my ass, didn't you?"
She paused in wringing out the cloth, before quickly resuming her repose. "If you mean bringing you here and tilting you over so you wouldn't choke on your vomit," she said, "then, yes."
I blinked, comprehension blurring, "I don't even remember that."
Snorting, she nearly laughed, "You were unconscious. Didn't expect you too."
I shrugged it off, finding myself wary to move my aching limbs. Every thing felt sore and used. "But hey, I mean... Thanks. Thanks a lot. You didn't have to help me."
"I know," she acknowledged. I blinked, uncertain of her indifference.
"But...you did. So, thanks again." And I smiled, looking up at her gratefully. In the back of my mind, I agonized over the strange mix of disbelief and apathy in her cursory gaze, but ignored it for now and smiled larger, "I'm Uzumaki Naruto. Pleased to meet ya'."
Staring at me for a long distrusting moment, as if sizing me up, she finally relented and introduced her as, "Himawari Miku."
"Miku," I spoke, tasting the name on my tongue. "Short and sweet. I like it."
"Nothing compared to fishcake, eh?"
Her words were so casual when spoken that it didn't sink in for a minute or so. When it did, I nearly shot up with an indignant "Hey!" bristling. And for what seemed like the oddest of moments, my savior looked torn as she struggled to suppress the coy smirk that rose onto her face and the small chide of chuckles that followed. She couldn't contain it anymore that I could stop my lips from mock scowling.
"Couldn't resist," she chuckled, face twisting in perplexion, "You made me laugh."
"Technically, it was my name that made you laugh," I corrected grumpily, "What's so strange about laughing?"
"Nothing, I suppose," Miku shrugged, though there seemed to be more. "Feeling okay to move?"
Noticing how much the outburst had caused me to shift positions, and the onslaught of nausea it brought to my stomach, I gagged and nearly emptied it's contents again, "Nooo."
Miku scoffed with a fitting, "Idiot."
"You would not believe how many times I have been called that in my life," I groaned, burying my head face down in the fuuton. Feeling tired again, I felt the wind shift beside me and opened my eyes in time to watch her bare feet and ankles rise.
"Am I staying here?" I asked when I saw her get up and set the bowl a ways away, forgotten. She looked at me stupidly, but also as if the obvious yet strangely intricate question had occurred to her as well. I mean, I was a stranger. She was a stranger. Even though we were both just kids.
"You really think you're in a condition to move?" Miku deadpanned.
Digesting this quip, I said the first thing that came to mind: "No way I'm moving." Before resuming my face down position in the warm cotton.
Miku shook her head, eyes rolling; I spent so much time with Sakura I didn't even need to see it to know it was happening. "Stuck with you, am I?"
"Yep," my muffled voice came through from the thin layer of pillow. "Is that a problem?"
There was no direct answer, just the sliding shut of a door and the dwindling footsteps that followed. Picking my loathing noggin from it's piteous position, I gazed towards the door in which she disappeared behind with idle nothings running through my mind.
It was what seemed like the awkward beginning of what might be an eventful and untimely friendship.
Miku's pov
My guest had awoken not too long ago. Much to my surprise, he had been lucid and civil for the most part, if not a bit snarky and subdued.
Our interaction was brief, but surprisingly...pleasant. He was completely at ease with me; me, a complete stranger. From what I could tell, this meant two of a thousand possibilities. One was, he was ninja obviously, one who must be able to take care of himself at that.(Physically, at least. Despite eating a handful of deadly berries.) Which led me to my second assumption, which was that he was no local and utterly oblivious to this area.
Otherwise, I imagine he would have put up quite a fight when he awoke and found himself under my care. Even when he exchanged names did he not grow agitated.
"Miku. Short and sweet. I like it."
And I refused to be taken in by that. So he enjoyed the sound of my name. Unheard of yes, but only because he was ignorant did he treat me so. That, and he was grateful for me saving his life. The fact that I had done so when I could have left him to choke on his own vomit must have been some proof of my humanity, yes?
Maybe.
To my growing confusion, the odd blond had even managed to coax a laugh at of me. Really, the absurdity of it all was nearly dismaying, and I had half a mind to tell him exactly what I was, if only to switch to the cold shun and hate I was accustomed to-
...but could not bring myself to. What a fickle you've become, my mind taunted. So alienated you would rather push an actually pleasant acquaintance with someone in exchange for the mundane cruelty you are used to. Quite sad. Almost pathetic.
Almost. I could still not allow myself to be completely taken in by this boy. Who by all means, as previously stated, must be an idiot. No one, especially a ninja, could be this trusting, this good-natured, this...this...
Well, I'm not sure I have the word for it just yet. But as the latter seems to be unable to move, and my charity would all be for waste if I sent him away to wither, it seems I have a bit of time to find out. And I more than likely will.
Naruto's pov
I slept most of the rest of the day, alternating between stomach cramps and exhaustion. Luckily, I only threw up once more, and Miku was there to catch it in her trusty bowl. She would come at irregular intervals to check up on me, bringing me water and keeping any lingering fever down.
We didn't speak much though. A few quips past here and there, but she made no attempt at conversation. It reminded me all too well of other sullen and silent figures I was used to associating with and the thought made me wrinkle my nose in distaste. So, as always, I broke the ice.
"Do you live here all alone?"
"Not exactly," was her answer. Bristled by the distant response, I persisted in my quest for not being ignored.
"Family?"
She paused in her fiddling, and something maybe like emotion passed through her eyes, "I had a grandfather."
Ah ha! Now, progress... "Do you take care of him then?" It was a common occurrence for the younger generation to care for their cherished elders but something in Miku's facade told me I was off.
"No, he passed away when I was six. Old age," she answered softly. Instantly, I felt that 'open mouth, insert foot' feeling curl it's way into my gut.
"Oh, uh, sorry," I tried lamely. "I didn't know."
"Of course you didn't," Miku shrugged, but I could see a glimpse of the resigned pain in her eyes, "It is alright. The dead are long since buried. What are you going to do?"
"Yeah.." I agreed somberly. "If it's any...any conciliation...my parents are dead too."
It probably wasn't, and I'm not sure why I put that out there. Guess I just wanted to connect, wanted her to know that she was not...as alone as maybe she felt.
"Ah," she said, much like in the apologetic tone I had used before, mimicking me, "I apologize."
A small smile quirked it's way onto my lips, "No, it's okay. You couldn't have known."
Mimicking her voice as well, and horribly failing, we both managed to chuckle lowly even at the dark expense of our tragedies hanging over our heads.
After a few more minutes of awkward silence draining what was left of our cheer, we quieted down and were overcome with the urge to speak. At least, I was.
"So..." I began, but then she got up abruptly, picking up her stuff as she went.
I opened my mouth to say something, but felt the pointless words die on the edge of my tongue as the sound of the door slid shut. In her retreat, she had only taken the dirty bowl and left behind some water for me to drink.
Leaning over to get a drink, I stared at my reflection for a while in the clear liquid. Same blond hair. Same blue eyes. A little flushed maybe, but other than that...completely and utterly normal looking.
How had she known?
Because something was off. I could sense it in my gut. And I was determined to find out. Because...I knew she felt it too.
So much for not getting attached, my rationality sneered.
Not a problem,I thought back, undeterred by my mind's pestering. She saved me from choking on my own vomit. She's not a threat. What's the harm in making an acquaintance?
To this, the voice had no answer, but that didn't mean it's opinion was absent from my conscience. It never was.
Miku's pov
He went too far. Or at least, he was attempting to. Prying into my information like that...how irate.
Not that you were exactly arguing, a mocking inner voice sneers. And you answered every question efficiently.
Well, I suppose that was the humble human ache for conversation showing it's annoying colors again. Though with all honestly I must admit, I hadn't imagined his parents being dead. You just...couldn't tell.
There was definitely an air about him - something different and abnormal - but who would have guessed it was defined by death?
In the long run of things, I guess you never did know. You could meet any normal person on the street and suspect them as being as kind and boring as any other person. And you could be drastically wrong or positively right.
In any case, his struggle was deftly portrayed in desperate act for interaction. Perhaps he was just bored. Or perhaps years of loneliness he succumbed to left him deep emotional scars and the traumatized need to never be smothered in the silence again.
Damn, I would make a good psychologist, my wicked mind jeers.
Whatever. Can't think of any person, well-natured or cynical, that would hire me.
Maybe I was just so unused to the gratitude I was unsure of what to make of it. Certainly, as absurd as it sounded, I had saved a life before. Not that I was ever thanked...except once...
And by it's own accord, I find my mind traveling back to that time...
Nearly three years ago. The color of the sky was unimportant. The weather mundane and not even worth committing to memory. What was noctiable were the shades of gray the world took when the beasts attacked.
The beasts, being a rogue gang of thugs who were weary travelers, hoping to find their thrills and sustenance in this poor farming village. They figure that brute force was easiest way to get whatever they wanted. In a place with low military standards and small quantity, they were mostly right.
I had ignored their presence for most of the duration. They only remained maybe a week, but during this time they managed to terrorize shop owners, harrass the women, antagonize the animals, and even pick on the children. But no one bothered me in my quaint hut on the outskirts of town, and so I didn't bother with them.
Then, on the sixth day of their tyranny, I had been walking home after a quick bite to eat at the local produce shop. Finishing off a bittersweet green apple, I threw the core carelessly into an alley when a screech of fear fell upon my ears.
Curiously, I poked into the junction between two houses and was dismayed at my findings. There were two of the bandits; not the leaders, but the end men, always there to give the group more muscle and number yet free to do as they please. Mindless lackeys, forcing a young girl to the wall, as she fought to no ends, kicking and cussing even as they held a knife to her throat.
I by no means was any sort of hero. I was not a good person. But seeing them force her into such a position made my blood boil. Seeing the cruel reality of human filth up close was enough to sharpen my canines to a point. I was only a child, a stupid child trying to play nice. But when one tore off the straps of her hakama, laughing in evil glee as she screamed at his disgusting touch, I could hold back no more.
I attacked, swift and brutal. The good thing about lackeys were that they were often easy to defeat when caught by someone with more brains and just a fraction more of strength than them. I took care of them easily. And I may have let them live, had I not seen their eyes. Remorseless with no apologies, no regret for their deeds and only fear for their own piteous lives. The look of them made me want to hurl and so I tore the look right off their faces.
Afterwards, the girl seemed fine, if not a bit shaken. Before I could ask her if she was okay, she fled, but without a cry or frantic speed. Though it pained some childish part of me, I can't say I would not have done the same.
After the murders, the rest of the gang inexplicably left. No one made a comment. No one cried out in relief. Because they knew why the bandits had fled. And I think some of them may have wished to follow suit.
What was truly shocking was seeing the girl again. In the light of the day I saw she was taller than I had previously presumed, and more of a young woman than girl. At least seventeen. Quite pretty as well, with her dashing blue eyes and long brown hair. When I saw her approach me I literally froze, completely dumb-struck at her having sought me out.
Especially when she smiled so graciously and told me, "Thank you."
So shocked, I could only answer with a distant, "Come again?"
"I am sorry, I didn't get to thank you properly before." Sheepishly now, "I was a bit shaken. But you took care of those brutes no problem, and I'm grateful; truly. I'm surprised no one else had done well to thank you, since I bet it's your skill that scared them off."
Unused to such praise, I only shrugged. Her tone was friendly, as were her eyes; no hidden ill-intention that I could see. What was wrong with this girl? Was she daft? Didn't she know who I was?
But after my run in with her attackers, I knew there no way she was unaware of what I was. And still, she was not scared. Not angry. Only happy. Happy to be alive and untouched.
Happy I killed them.
It was a strange new feeling it was: acceptance. Even if only by one soul, it was...warm. Still, at first, I was wary. Perhaps she sensed this, for then she most kindly offered, "How about I cook you a hearty meal in thanks? You need to load up, you're quite a thin little thing. How old are you?"
"Nine," I replied, almost proudly.
"Nine, huh? I'm about seven years your senior. Well, may I have the pleasure of knowing my savior's name as well?"
The title 'savior' felt cold on my description, but the fact that she was asking my name when nearly the whole population referred to me with crude insults was too much to pass up. "Miku," I told her.
She smiled again. I found myself growing fond of that smile. "Fumiko," she told me gently. "Now, what do you like to eat?"
"Everything?" I shrugged. And she laughed, so contagious, I found myself laughing too. The dinner was pleasant and the most caring contact I'd had since my grandfather's passing.
It became the first of many.
The memory faded then, a slow wash of ink against the pages of my mind. I snapped the mental drawer shut and locked it away for the day. No need to dwell. No need to think back, though it seemed the only thing to do anymore.
It's nearly sunset. The Uzumaki boy may be hungry.
Naruto's pov
"Have you lived here your whole life?" I asked the next morning while she served me breakfast. My stomach finally felt ready to eat, but couldn't handle much. And I was still a bit weak and groggy.
"What's with all these questions?" she asked, not annoyed but something else. Maybe she was just being smart with me, but the I had the urge to stake a challenge.
"Well then, if it is that unfair, how about twenty questions? I ask you one, you ask me. Great way to get to know one another," I added cheekily.
"Hmph, so high and mighty. What makes you think I want to know you?" The tone was haughty, but with enough playful edge that I could not take offense.
"Nothing better to do. I'm bedridden and you're stuck with me," I said plainly. This seemed to digest in her mind awhile, before she relented.
"As far back as I can remember. Jii-san brought me here when I was just a babe," she answered, referring to her grandfather.
"He raised you?" I asked. She nodded. "Sounds like a good man, then." I smiled, avoiding the question of why her elderly grandpa had to raise her in the first place.
"He was a very good man," Miku agreed firmly, lost in memory for a brief second. When she recovered soon after, she said, "Now, that's two for you. Now I get two."
"Be my guest," I offered.
"Where are you from?"
"Konoha," I replied, ignoring the distant flavor it had on my tongue. She seemed earnestly surprised, yet not.
"You looked like a ninja. But Konoha is a long ways way. You're pretty far from home."
I deflated slightly at that. "I didn't say it was still my home."
"Oh," she said, blinking. I'm pretty sure she got the message. "Leave anyone behind?"
I thought of the friends who'd made me laugh, people I'd fought to protect, precious persons who gradually became my family. I smiled, "A bunch of friends." And then I remembered cold stares, whispered taunts, and my smile faltered. "With some less than favorable characters mixed in."
"I suppose all places are like that," said Miku, with a hint of bitterness. Wonder where that came from?
"What about you?" I asked. "Anyone special people?"
There was a struggle with the question, almost like when she had admitted to me she once had a family in the first place. Opening up was difficult, but I was willing to push in the most painless of ways; by not pushing at all.
"A friend," she confessed softly. "I had a very good friend once. Her name was Fumiko."
"Pretty name," I commented. She nodded absently to this. "Did she have a face to match?" I couldn't help but smirk as I said it.
It managed to even nudge a slight grin to her face, which was a victory in itself. "Oh yes," she remarked. "She was...like a sister. You know the feeling?"
I remembered Iruka and Kakashi; like fathers. Outspoken Sakura and shy Hinata; like sisters. Tsunade-baa-chan and Ero-sennin; like grandparents. Sasuke...and I have to confess, to the depths of my madness, even Itachi; like brothers. "Yes," I confirmed. "I know the feeling very well."
There was a long pregnant pause. I lingered between the memories of before, in my village and all it's inhabitants. And they mixed with the now, the life in Akatsuki and the familiar need to prove myself. All whilst trying to figure out this solemn young girl beside me, such a look in her eyes that'd I'd seen so many times, but where-
"Have you ever lost one of them?" Her voice was so quiet, so indifferent as if she was asking the most casual of requests. For a moment, I pondered if I had only imagined her asking it. She was so reserved, so unwilling to be friend - if only friends - with the likes of me. Her guarded walls reminded me so of my own mask; so easy to shatter, but so tough to crack.
The only real reason I took so long to answer is because I knew mine would not be one to her satisfaction. I gave it anyway.
"I'm not sure...Honestly, up until this point...I never had anyone to lose."
Because friends always gave, until there was nothing else to give. My old home taught me that, if nothing else.
And I blinked then, stronger but still a tad weary.
When my eyes opened again, she was gone.
Miku's pov
This time, I think it is I who went too far. I shouldn't have indulged him. Shouldn't have let him convince me with undeniable azure eyes and a smiling face.
I left my walls down, or at least unattended, for too long and a bit of myself slipped out. That usually doesn't happen, but his willingness to share a piece of his own consumed me. Delirious, I just wanted to know; wanted to know if my pain was shared or only my own.
His pain was plausible, but still I strained away. I was wary to let everything slip away. I couldn't let anyone else in to shred the rest of me to pieces. And when a window cracks, the breaker usually gets cut on the shards himself. I couldn't allow myself to let this oaf get harmed too.
I had one comfort left. One thing to rely on, since my best friend - my sister's - early end. I had a salvation, a someone to keep me grounded. I did not need another. Thank you, goodbye. I didn't need a friend. Not even an acquaintance. I didn't enjoy his company, I tolerated it.
Denial, snickered my conscience.
So I fled to the seclusion I was used to.
Naruto's pov
She always disappeared beyond that one room before I could talk any further. Before too much meaning ever came from her mouth and before I was able to bleed my heart out right for her to see. It was her way of keeping the distance between us firm yet wavering. Good thing she had half the mind to do, for I, as always, was too half-witted to catch myself before making mindless attachments.
We were strangers after all, and it was well executed and private excuse.
I wondered what lay beyond that mysterious door, but I imagined it was something precious.
Never though did I bring up the nerve to ask.
By the next day, I did feel well enough to sit up. And walk. And even eat a proper meal. Which I did, and Miku wasn't the best cook, as the food was a bit bland and flavorless. But at the moment, this was exactly what I needed and I filled up on the buffet, exaggerating how well it hit the spot.
In a way, I hadn't wanted to leave. Not with that same apathetic look on her face. It feels as though we've gotten nowhere since I first arrived. Even though we maybe spent a little over 48 hours together, I knew this was false.
But I had a mission to do. My previous promise to Itachi came swelling back in a rush, and I could not bear to fail him or Pein. And I had yet to find the threat my mission sought. I think that if Miku knew, she'd understand.
Afterwards, I swore to myself I'd come back. Maybe I could help her yet. Before, I wasn't sure what compelled me to, and maybe I still don't. Now it just didn't matter. Whether she admitted it or not, we were connected now; bound by another bond maybe I was a fool to make.
But hey, no more begging for disaster than getting along with members of an elite assassin group, eh?
When this was all done, I would come back and visit. But voicing this right now would be meaningless to Miku, I knew that much. So instead I just said, "See you around."
And she shrugged, still playing the indifferent card. Her composure was flawless. "Someday, maybe."
I wondered if she would smile when she saw me trudging back, whenever that may be. I still secretly pondered what lay beyond that wall that was so valuable. Mostly, I wondered now where I would sleep tonight.
Miku's pov
I had a dream I was being hunted. By men I knew by voice, spiteful voices, but their faces were voids of nothing; just black blurs upon spineless necks. Faceless and remorseless. Senseless and hateful.
Their hate bounced back to me and I felt it like a flame igniting. I felt every ounce of buried emotion fight it's way to my core and slide it's way through the cracks of my unguarded walls. And once a bit of it escaped, the rest was never far behind.
The beast was always far more powerful than it actually was in real life when causing havoc within my nightmares. But in reality, it's thirst was just as fierce. Exaggerated as I tell it, the thing I became took pride as it stalked my hunters and made them the true prey.
And I enjoyed it.
Some deep, hideous part of me relished in hearing the skin tear from the flesh. Savored every drop of blood that splattered upon my face and ravaged the human form with excitement akin to a feeding wolf on a day old carcass.
Sonomi and her power surged through me and it did not burn, nor scorch - only soothe the searing wounds marring my skin from man's blade. Her chakra healed it all, not without pain; but it is a soft, pricking pain which I have grown accustomed to. Her dark presence is my only constant.
And I cannot will her passion to stop. For my rage, my anger, my hate - all my resentment and other emotions I cannot overcome. Her power is so potent and the pity and remorse in me is strong, but not enough to match it.
Only when I sober does it feel like I can breathe again. Only when the euphoria leaves and the demon is sated and satisfied do I awaken to the horror left behind. The bodies of whom I did hate, but did not wish to kill. Or even those who I only wished to stop, who I only wished to be injured and then well off with their tails between their legs - dead. Ripped apart.
And who is blamed? Not Sonomi, the hellish ram demon whose soul rest alongside my own.
No. Only I am blamed. Only I am stoned. The prick of them is much worse than the pain of healing. At least healing leaves no scars behind - physical or emotional. This pain is so much more. It hurts so bad, and I should be used to it by now. No amount of ostracism or isolation will ever make it 'better' or 'okay.' Just a little less shocking...
And the words. The words are always with the stones.
"Freak!" The voices grow in sickening crescendo.
"Animal!" They chant.
"Heathen!" They scream.
"Monster!"
"Monster!
"Monster!"
I awoke, breath harsh and ragged. My heart thumped wildly in my chest and I grasped it, heaving from the thrill of the chase, and reeling in aghast at the pleasure I had found in the kill. Dream or not.
And I found myself yearning for some sort of company, for the warm presence which had occupied my hut for two days past. But he was gone, and I let him leave, turned him away. I was much too old to cry. Much to wise for tears, and too empty for longing.
But at what age was one exempt from needing comfort?
I reached for my only solace snuggled safely but a few inches away. I hugged the bundle close to my chest and true to my word, I did not weep nor want. Only stared at the dark of the room and deny as I might, wondered where the blond boy dozed that night.
There you go, a healthy dose of snark, angst, and budding friendship all tied up neatly into one little chapter.
Hope I'm not making Miku too unbearable. I really like her and I don't want her to be a stereotype, and I wanted her to be mostly liked by the readers. In that aspect, how am I fairing? And just want to put it out there: This is not Naruto/OC. Just strong friendship.
Also, I tried to fit a lot of different elements in this chapter, while nothing altogether exciting all happens. I will make up for that, promise, but this is as the title says, a series of Interludes that I saw fit to add to give some character development. Was it a waste of time? A bit enjoyable?
These are questions I would love to know the answers to! Until next time, stay in school, eat lots of ramen, and never try to steal your friend's sandal when she has a good drip on your hair!