I do not really own anything. Thanks for the advice of "D F", I'll be improving the title "Escape to Freedom" to "Escape to Wonderland". I haven't been updating because of the holidays, and soon enough, school will be there to take its place. I'll hopefully be able to hold it back so I might be able to update more frequently now, like I so wanted to. Oh, also, since two stories are tied for first, I couldn't end the poll; so whoever hasn't voted, please vote.

On a dark, chilly night, the distraught woman slowly backed away from his front door. With that man's phone still in her hand, she wiped the tears from her amber orbs. Amu, gazing at the device, contemplated as what to do with it. After a few moments, she decided to leave the phone at the foot of the door. As a final goodbye, her cold lips pressed themselves on the phone. Just as she held the phone away from her lips, the door opened, much to her dismay. There appeared the man who indirectly broke her heart.

"What is it, Amu?" Ikuto asked with an oddly pleasant smirk. Could smirks even be pleasant?

"Your cellphone, I came here to give you your cellphone." Turning away from his gaze, she held out his phone.

"Oh." His disappointed utterance puzzled Amu. "Thanks, Amu." As his fingers grazed hers, she loosened her grip on the cell and recoiled back her hand, holding it close. Consequently, she dropped the cell.

"I'm sorry, Ikuto." Amu unconsciously drew out his name in a tragic, slow drawl. Ikuto wanted to just hold her but, of course, held back like the gentleman he is.

"It's fine, Amu." The blue haired violinist flashed a reassuring smile and left the forgotten phone on the ground. They just took the next moments staring at each other. Amu's eyes tried searching for answers in his eyes. His eyes just drowned themselves in hers.

"I should get going." Breaking off the contact, she walked away from him.

The Man at Ran's Side

After Kiseki had murdered her with his words of truth, Ran dragged herself back to the front of the school. She just wanted to weep in her misery with the comfort of her bed. Just when she thought this day couldn't get any worse, she heard Yoru's voice behind the wall she leaned on.

"Do you need a shoulder to cry on or an ear to cry to?" The comforting voice, that sounded familiar yet foreign at the same time, allured her. She opened her mouth with excitement to reply, but someone replied for her.

"Thanks for the offer—" Ran just froze there, looking over the wall at the happy couple. For a second time, her lips parted to speak; but a hand clamped itself on her mouth. Ran turned to see Daichi.

"We don't want to disturb the couple, now do we?" His whisper fell to her ears. Her glare pierced at him, but he responded with a smile.

"But you'd prefer not to. It's alright, Miki. I want to be the one to comfort you and protect your happiness. I'll be your knight in shining armor." The tears she fought back just came rushing, casting aside her will power. She fell limp in Daichi's arms. No matter how terrible people described Ran, she still had feelings. The other day, Yoru had given her hope; but now those skyscrapers of hopes collapsed on themselves. Her heart was just a complete void eating its own self.

"I'll be right here next to you with your hand in mine. If you don't want to talk about it, I'll just be right next to you at your command." How much more words did he have to say? Ran couldn't see Daichi's expression because her face was muffled in his chest; but she could feel and hear him grit in his teeth… in annoyance? Was it directed at her or Yoru?

"I'm sorry, Ran." He just repeated those in her ear. That void, that lay deep within her, seemed to pulse. The countless of murders Kiseki and Yoru had exacted on her became nothing; and she felt alive… just for a moment.

"Friends"

The girl and boy, hand-in-hand, strolled down the park's pebble path. Behind her blue bangs, her gaze darted from the violinist to the road, constantly changing directions. His eyes, glazed with honey, confidently met hers, always lighting up at the sight of her shy smile. This exchange went on and on for maybe longer than a moment. The two couldn't hold track of time with how high their happiness was going. Each of their feet was reluctant to press on, but the desire to maintain a normal composure inspired each foot to go ahead.

"Miki, we're not strangers. What are we? What's going on between us?" Yoru's question confused her. Miki took a deep, thoughtful pause and turned her head to him.

"What do you think we are, Yoru?" She directed the question back at him, also wondering what this was. Their feet still went on, just at a slower pace.

"Let's look at the facts, shall we?" Feigning the air of those stuck up, serious snobs, he offered rhetorically. "Miki, you have a great empathy. I like that. Nonetheless, you have such an abundance of it that you forget yourself. I want to be the one who supports you and reminds you the importance of yourself. What would you call that?" Through his description of her empathy, her cheeks flushed in a deep red; and Yoru's smirk grew in response.

"Don't sell yourself short, Yoru. You care and understand those around you as well. Although those rumors about your scandalous 'crimes' go around you, you only care about those around you. You push away those people for what you think is their own good. You torture yourself, Yoru. I like your caring character, but I'd wish you weren't such a martyr. Now, with that all in mind, what do you think our relationship is?" She gleamed at him.

"C'mon, Miki, you can't keep dodging the question. What do you think our relationship is?" He inquired with a pleading tone. It took much to push him there, and somewhere deep inside, Miki jumped in excitement that she could push him that far. Miki bit her lip in thought and gazed deeply into his mischievous eyes.

"…Childhood friends." She answered, turning away from him.

"Friends. Ah, that word…" He trailed off, shaking his head. The blue haired artist took notice of his disapproval to that word.

"Okay, then, what would you prefer, Yoru?" The way her tongue played with his name and the way she giggled at the end made him too excited for his own good. He smirked yet still shook his head.

"It's not time yet." He said.

"Whatever." She gave up and switched the topic to his hair. "I think blue suits you."

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