A/N:

I've finally found the time to work on this again.

Me and my big mouth.

I should have known better than to make her such a promise, but I felt so bad and I was trying to improve my mood and I figured, Well, I needed a new life, so that automatically meant that I should take my glamorous friend out shopping to start anew. That whole philosophical, karmic kind of crap that psychologists and Buddhists seem to throw out all the time. What could go wrong? Other than being a pack mule, apparently. Or maybe being the chauffeur?

"Eeee~! Oh mai gai! KAITO! You absolutely MUST try this on!"

Or being her own freakin' mannequin. I blame the fact that she's a well-known idol and that her voice can go up that many octaves.

"Blue is so your color!"

Really? It couldn't be because I have blue hair, blue eyes, and that my outfit just so happens to have a lot of blue overtones to it, right? And that, in general, I'm just blue. It's just me, right? Well, it's not like I could ever be that sarcastic with Miku, but you get the point. At least she was enjoying herself while I had to stand there like a pushover — just that one time! —, letting her drape a dark blue pashmina around my neck. Hey, I wasn't going to be the one to spoil her fun. Someone else will, but I bet you already know the answer to that, don't you? Of course you do, but let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet.

She went a few steps back, placed a hand on her hip and studied my new look. I must have looked très chic, no? Yeah, yeah, laugh it off. I figured that with all of my melodramatic soliloquies, you might have needed something lighter or something. I'm not really a depressed kind of person, you know. And don't try to tell that people who wear and love the color blue are depressed people in disguise. If that's the case, then every newborn baby boy in the world that has been wrapped in a blue blanket are predetermined to be such. Aren't there women and girls who are? So there. . . And I'm getting off topic again I know, I know, I know. I'm sorry.

"How does this look?"

I twisted my neck (carrying bags is a hassle) so that I could try and take a quick peek at her. She was wearing . . . . something cute, I guess? . . . What? . . . WHAT? You're asking me to remember something that happened almost ten years ago, give me a break! Ahem, anyway. . . I think I'll just spare you the details of that event and move along now and before you ask, it's not because my memory has failed me or anything and that I can't think of an interesting monologue to keep you— . . . I can't remember, what do you want from me!?

. . . I'm sorry, I just haven't been. . . sleeping. . . very well. . . for a while. . . Um, okay, so like, where was I? Oh, right, the shopping venture thing. Right.

Well then, as I was saying, Miku made a fine trip out of that day, nothing but smiles and peals of laughter from her. And what about me, you ask? Didn't my ever so clear and flowery description help mold some kind of idea into your head? And I'm not saying it to be disrespectful to you or anything — you are supposedly here to help us — but I could have sworn I had made myself crystal clear. And I am not being snappy and rude! . . . Fine. I'm sorry. Happy? You should be. Moving on.

I know that I've already spent about ten minutes complaining about her using me to hold onto her things, but when she suddenly decided that she was hungry, she took a few of them out of my hands long enough for me to flex my fingers to get the blood flowing back into them. Turned out that she only wanted to fish out one of her wallets (one of them!) so that she could pay for our meal.

"What're you in the mood for, Kai-Kai?" she had asked after handing me my job back.

"Something cold and sweet." To counteract my hot and bitter mood.

She laughed. "Doesn't matter the season, I guess. Though I don't really know that many places around here that'd still be serving ice cream now."

"I know a few," I offered. "There's actually one that's not too far off from us. It's just a few blocks away, and it's not fancy or anything, but it's nice." Considering the ridiculous amount of money Miku had sometimes invested in me over the years at fancy restaurants and the many times she'd treat me to Mousey Land, it made me feel guilty every time I'd see or hear about the amount. And it was only because she would be the one to keep adding, and adding, and adding, and adding, and add— You get the idea.

She seemed against the idea, at first, until I smiled and reassured her that I was absolutely positive that she'd love it. I did. I spent a good afternoon there with my siblings and Miki when our mom wasn't feel well. Definitely watered down the tension between us on those days.

Anyways, on that day and at that time, we just had to get caught up in all of the Christmas fuss. Normally, that holiday isn't that much of a big deal over here, but I guess with most of the citizens wanting to "Westernize" their lifestyles, I guess accepting Christmas into their regime would count. Even now I wonder if they realized that it was a pretty religious date, and not some day used as an excuse to randomly gift people and to use as an excuse to get close to their loved ones. Well, not really an excuse, I guess, but you know what I'm trying to say, right? Well, the cafe was no different than the streets. It was a little mind jarring at first, because of how packed the small place was and, for once, Miku looked unsure and worried again.

"Kaito?" She said, tugging on my sleeve. "Maybe we should—"

"Well howdy do!" A waiter exclaimed with a thick accent. Osakan? "What can ah do for such a LOVELY couple~?" he asked in a lilting tone. Honestly, what kind of a question was that? Surely we came in just to stand and admire the white trim on the walls.

I felt Mi-Mi stand up straighter and saw her give him her best smile. "A table for two, please, if possible."

He looked at her, and I mean REALLY looked at her, and his eyes nearly bugged out. "Why, certainly! Anythin' for the lovely, Miku. Follow me!" he all but sang, walking in front of us with a skip in his step.

Miku, as usual, was courteous and already knew what she wanted once he had us seated at a booth with a window. Scenery. And to my luck, or lack thereof, they weren't serving cold ice cream anymore, just chilled mochi. Delish.

While I was busy moping and poking at it with the ends of my chopsticks, Miku, who sat in front of me, leaned forward and whispered, "Maybe we should reserve this table. . ."

The way she looked at me gave me the impression that she was kind of uncomfortable asking for such a thing, and I couldn't help but ask, "Why?"

She sucked in some air and puffed her cheeks, a habit she did often whenever Rin's constant chattering was finally beginning to eat away at her nerves. "Because," she stressed, "I'd much rather have it just be you and me, than to share it with some stranger." She shifted a bit in her seat. "I mean, we were lucky that there was a booth left for us, but look around you." Stupidly, I did what she asked. My reward for my obedience was an exasperated sigh. "Rhetorically, Kaito!" she snapped and wildly gestured with her hands. "I can promise you the next person who comes here is just going to ruin our time together because they'll more than likely be wanting to ask a bunch of silly questions and make off-handed remarks and— You see?!" she cried out and grabbed my jaw a little too hard just so she could force me to turn around and stare at the booth adjacent to us. The same waiter had helped another young couple find a seat, but apparently he was making them share with an already occupied one, and the couple didn't appear too happy about that.

"I think I get what you're saying," I finally told her and she groaned. Well what? I honestly didn't really see a problem with that, so there really shouldn't be a reason for her to act like that. Well, at least in my opinion, but I guess I should also be considerate of her feelings since she's had to deal with social stress (if that's a good way to describe it) in her short life, but even though she's been to the school for almost four years, people have surprisingly adjusted to having her around fairly quickly. Or as quickly as any other person would be within the proximity of a celebrity, that is.

However, those thirty or so minutes spent alone just chatting about our plans for when school finally lets out for good, what we planned to do, how our folks were doing. . . and then it gradually slipped to the more person questions and even if either of us planned on settling down. At that notion, Miku blushed and hid her face as best as she could with her hat.

"I-I actually have mixed feelings about that. . ." She murmured, fiddling around with the ends of her hair.

"How so?" I asked, trying so very hard to keep my thoughts trained to our conversation on not on the fact that I wanted to run my hands through her hair and I bit the inside of my cheek too hard to stop myself from teasing her. Honestly, she looked so adorable whenever she played with her hair like that, and not abuse it with a nasty habit like actually chewing on it a— I digress, in short, just a bunch of self control and it was just really, really hard to impose all of that. And don't give me that look, okay? I just got a little side-tracked is all. I mean, come on, I'm sure you've had moments that once you remember something, you draw a connection to that with a past event or really just anything else that could remotely remind you of said event. It's only natural, of course. And I'm not making up any excuses, I swear.

Anyways, I guess I was just too absorbed in banishing such feelings and trying so hard to remind me of my place, that I failed to notice when she had stiffened up, her eyes growing wide with shock before narrowing in such disdain and hatred, that when I finally decided to follow her gaze, I felt something fall into the pit of my stomach, and I can assure you it was NOT because that mochi wasn't agreeing with me.

Gold and red.

. . . Fuck me, I need to think. . .

Snack time's always the best time to try and relax and collect your thoughts as best as you can so that you won't sound as stupid whenever you're trying to answer questions that sometimes don't even SEEM to have anything to do with the client, isn't that right? Now, I don't mean to sound sardonic or anything or even disrespectful, however. . . I do have to wonder about you sometimes. Sorry, I think her paranoia really has rubbed off of me after all these years, as much as I don't like to admit that.

Anyways, I think I've collected my thoughts and I'm ready to go on again. Can you tell me where we last left off? . . . Are you sure? Well, hey, it's all on you, I guess. . . Okay, if you say so.

So, once I noticed who it was that Fate believed was deemed fit to grace our boring lunch with, I wanted to duck under the table and put up an "Out to Lunch" sign so that they'd get the picture. Not like it would actually help, but y'know, the thought was in there. . . Yeah.

Okay, well, yeah, the same overly-happy Osakan waiter brought them over, and I could have sworn some kind of atomic bomb or something just went off the second Miki's and Miku's eyes met. Not a spark, but a catastrophic explosion in the shape of a giant mushroom that blew us all to dust kind of way. Is it really possible for two people to hate each other so much when they rarely even spoke to each other? It still doesn't make much sense to me, but there they were, glaring the shit out of each other, even when Blondie and I tried to coax them to just eat or something.

Thankfully, World War Three didn't break out at that moment, and we all just sat there, in silence, in really awkward silence. Miki decided to settle on some noodles that she didn't even bother tasting and stared them down. I already knew she wasn't much of an eater, but she could have at least sampled it. It was insanely rude of her. . . Just knowing that she was there was distracting me, and I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my thoughts to myself for long while she was around, so my safest bet was to just stare out of the window and do my best to ignore her. Consequently, that meant I had to ignore Miku, because she was at my right and Miki just HAD to sit in front of her. I knew I'd be able to see her crazy red hair from the corner of my eyes. Whether she or not she was trying, Miki always seemed to make my life more difficult than necessary, and she always seemed to know exactly how to ruin it, too.

Though while I was trying to do the smart thing and to just try and enjoy my soggy treat, Miku was busy glowering at her, seemingly unaware by the fact that even Miki was trying to do the same. But one person could only take so much and Miki sighed, lazily looking up from her bowl and looked at Miku with mild disinterest. "Can I help you?"

"You certainly can by getting your ass out of that seat and go back through those doors!" Miku hissed. It didn't come as much of a shock to me that she'd swear right off the bat. It was expected of her, with what her mortal enemy being in the same proximity as her and all that jazz.

Miki rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Sorry Hime, no can do. Leon and I already had to wait for a long time and this was the only one with just enough extra seats to accommodate us."

Miku kicked me from under the table and grabbed my hand, digging her nails into my skin. Ouch. "I told you we should've had this table reserved!" she snarled, and I wanted to sink right into my seat right then and there to hide. Instead, I just nodded my head, thinking 'Yes, yes you did and I'm sorry for being such an inconsiderate asshole and having to make you suffer through Miki's company', and I looked straight down at my plate. Anything than to have to see those hard eyes of hers.

My saving grace, Miki's yawn, and Miku finally released my hand. She was already as angry as a raging bull, and I felt that if I tried to nurse my wounded hand, she'd snap at me, and just let my hand rest on my thigh. With a lazy grin, Miki pointed to Miku's tiny green tea cake with her chopsticks. "Is that any good?" she asked while barely — just barely — moving the chopsticks up and down, indicating that she wasn't just talking about the cake, but about Miku as well. Miki discreetly shifted her eyes towards Leon's and even glanced in my direction, smirking. So she was still up to her old tricks. She hadn't changed one bit in the last three years, and for some reason, I felt a little relieved. I may not have missed as much as I thought and I relaxed, smiling at her, and her small joke — as rude as it was — took light and I almost laughed.

Wrong move. Miku's face turned a stark red, and her body began to tremble in fury. She breathed in slowly and deliberately several times, trying to calm herself down but it was obvious that it wasn't working. "Y-you, you, you, you—" She stammered.

"Me what~?" Miki replied teasingly, egging her on.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO. I shook my head at her, getting ready to get up to stuff a mouthful of the mochi into her mouth to shut her up. She was going too far, way too far way too fast and her cocky attitude was going to get her into some serious shit in a few seconds. But of course, Miki just wouldn't be Miki if she actually listened to anyone in her life.

She leaned back into her seat and crossed her arms. "Honestly, you would at least expect that Japan's most beloved Diva would at least be a bit more sensible."

Miku stopped fuming for a second and stared at her, perplexed, and looked up at me with a face that said, 'Okay, what the hell is she going on about this time?'

She went on. "I mean, really? Do you take us for fools?"

Miku's patience was gone, and she glared at her again. "What're you talking about? Are you mental?" And just when Miki was about to open her mouth to answer, a malicious smirk stretched across Miku's small face. Slowly, Miki closed her mouth and moved forward, her eyebrows knitted together. That was bad, that was so bad, because she shouldn't have stopped. It was like those days when we were younger. That's how she'd always win when she would verbally abuse me, because I'd become curious, blatantly leaving an opening just so she could tear me apart. Any normal person would have rejoiced to see their bully being knocked down a few pegs, but not like that, not in that manner.

"Kaito told me about your little visit to the therapist, like what, two, three years ago? Just what was that all about~?" Miku purred.

Miki's whole body went as tense as a rubber band, eyes wide, and her mouth set in a firm line. Once or twice I had mentioned it, but it was only because Miku wanted to get the whole story that time when Miki went missing from school. Rumors were rumors and she wanted to know the facts. So Miki's parents had had enough of having to deal with the way their lives were becoming, failing to have the family they wanted, giving up so much for such poor results. They weren't awful people, oh no, that's not what I'm trying to say. No matter how good a person's intention are, you can only take so much that you just forget. They forgot about her and she was hurt. What other way could we say to explain why Miki was acting up again?

I was so sure she was going to snap, lunge at her just to bury her fingers into her smooth skin again, but she didn't. She was trying so hard to keep her cool. "That's none of your concern, so I suggest you don't try to worm your way into other people's business where you're not wanted." she firmly told Miku.

Miku ignored the warning tone in her voice and started to play around with a loose strand of her hair. "Oh really? Well, since your family is friends with his—"

"Not for the past four years last time I checked." she growled.

Thanks for letting me know you actually miss me, you jerk. Presents can't fix everything.

Miku smirked and went on. "—that I only assumed that Kaito has every right to worry about his sick little friend."

"I am not sick!" She screamed, her self-control shattered and banged her fists onto the table, causing the bowls and glasses to jump and shake. She was going to have another fit, just like the one in the tree house, and I almost got up, but Leon beat me to her. He even placed a hand over hers. All eyes were on our table.

Miku giggled, light and airy, starkly contrasting the situation on hand. "Miki-chan, you need to calm that huge ego of yours down. Do you have to act like such an attention-seeking little brat? Aren't we enough?" she pouted and lightly batted her eyelashes.

I could have sworn that Miki sat up to wail on her, but instead collected her coat and Leon's, grabbed his hand, and got up from the table. "Come on, we're leaving," she snapped at him. He didn't protest.

Miku sneered. "Leaving so soon? Late for an appointment with your therapist? Late for your last meal at St. Michael's?"

Next thing we all knew, a sharp slap resounded, and the shape of tiny red hand was clearly visible on Miku's cheek, who was too stunned to react.

"Next time," Miki started, her voice thin and tired, "pick on someone you're own size. I'm not going to let you insult me like that. I am not crazy, it was personal family matters. So unless you want me to go on and let your other cheek have a matching accessory, I suggest you learn your place." She warned and angrily stalked out of the cafe.

Miku and I sat there in silence, the sounds of the cafe slowly coming back to life, and she gingerly fingered the swelling area on her face. "Let's go," she whispered. Even she sounded drained and I didn't argue. I left a tip and paid the tab, and scurried after her. She was walking ahead of me far too quickly, the heels of her boots loudly slapping against the wet pavement. "Go home, Kaito." She ordered.

"Huh? Why? You're hurt!" Even if her temper had miraculously cooled down, there was always that slight chance that she could explode and make a costly mistake. Yes, her pride was also wounded, but I was sure she could salvage that. Miki was just that crazy girl who lived down the street from her boyfriend's. We weren't even friends anymore, she wasn't a threat to her. So why did she care so much?

"Kaito, don't argue with me. I just want to lay down. . ." I almost didn't hear her. She was talking so quietly now. That whole fiasco was my fault because I hadn't asked to keep our booth to ourselves. It was all my fault. The least I could was to respect her wishes, and Kaiko's cheery face was the first thing I saw when I opened the door.

"Big brother!" she cried, flinging her arms around me. "How was your date with Mi-Mi?" she innocently asked. She adored Miku. She was like the older sister she always wanted.

"It was nice."

She wasn't fooled. "Big brother, what's wrong? Did you two have a fight? Don't worry, I thought that pink looked better on her than red did, too." She told me, patting my hand. "Oh? Kaito-nii, what happened to your hand?"

"I slipped and fell on something. It's late and we have a big day tomorrow, I need sleep." I told her and picked her up to move her aside. She didn't make a move to protest, understanding when it was best to stay quiet and do as she's told.

Well, time's up, again. I'll be seeing you.