I suspect that I may have made my mother nervous the previous night as well as this morning. My father also showed signs of concern over my behavior.

I admit, however, that have I been witness to such actions, I'd be pondering the same.

Coming home to my family's apartment the day before, I had stalked through the doorway, baby basket hanging limply at my side. Yumi lay still within the single blanket, quietly sucking on her thumb.

The journey home from the soccer field was certainly a surreal one. The tip of my index finger seemed to be glued to my lips as it continued its slow, circular path round and around them. My eyes stared downward solely at my black shoes as they traveled across the surprisingly plush pavement, the cars driving past a ghostly siren to my ears. Meshed together with this siren were the voices of the various people that barely avoided a collision with my small form, shouts, yells, horns and beeps.

They all blended together as it all swirled by.

The foreign taste lingered on my tongue from having rolled it back and forth on my moist bottom lip. And I did not cease in fingering the warm piece of flesh even as I entered the front door of the apartment, hardly acknowledging my parents' greeting of 'how was your day at school' with a simple nod of the head. Mother had asked what was wrong, but I answered with a curt 'everything's fine' before walking past her and Father and excusing myself and the baby girl to my bedroom.

That night I only exited my taciturn space twice; to use the restroom and dispose of Yumi's soiled diaper and to retrieve a spoon and water for her formula. Though Mother's tone sounded worrisome through the enclosed door, my legs did not stir an inch to give her access to the room. I only reassured her several times that nothing happened; that I was just tired after a long day at school with hardly any sleep the night before.

I was alleviated that Father stepped in to try to cam her down. His muffled voice, hardly audible, whispered words into her ear, I would imagine, words that coaxed her to leave the door and sit in the comfort of the living room sofa.

I would imagine.

A secret kept from them. Just like they had kept one from me.

Mixing the formula in the plastic bottle, I'd scarcely spoken a word to the little redhead, only feeding her the milky substance, the baby girl herself having to grunt to me loudly when she was satisfied. I had tucked her into her crib, pastel-colored blankets swimming around her, but the only thing I had uttered to her was 'Good-night'. And as if she understood, Yumi eyed me once more up and down before shifting her auburn head to one side and slowly shutting her swelled brown orbs.

After a few moments I found my own eyes staring off into some unknown point in the dimness of the bedroom, hands stagnant unmoving towards the immaculate yellow laptop on the bedside table.

That kiss still invaded my thoughts, my mind.

It repeated itself many times over within the haze permeating my head. His fingers wrapped tightly around my upper arms, the long brown strands tickling my forehead. His lips against my own. Then that split-second instant when he separated himself from me and ran his tongue along the line of my bottom lip…

I've never been in such close proximity with another individual. It created a tingle that slithered down my spine and up again.

And with that Taichi sprinted off, my gaze of stupor only catching his jersey fluttering off. My best friend had given me my first kiss and sped off before I could realize what was going on, before I could collect myself.

Collect myself and kiss him back, I suppose. I couldn't help but wonder what I would have done if I had had sufficient time to react. What are you supposed to do when another does this to you?

Accept it? Fight it?

Embrace him in return?

I would think…that would be the most logical option, wouldn't it?

The action of actually kissing someone, from what I've heard, involves much emotion between the two people and has prerequisite of sorts. From having caught Yamato and Sora on a couple of occasions while heading to class, I can conclude that the one you would share a kiss with is one who is a close friend, a trusted companion. The interaction between Yamato and Sora also implied that they were quite fond of each other, a requirement that undoubtedly made sense. I know for a fact that I would be considerably uncomfortable being in such close quarters with someone whom I did not get along with.

And they seemed to share a sort of bond, as if they fully understand each other.

Then, they kiss.

I wonder…if these conditions applied to Taichi and I…

Well…we're certainly friends. At least I would think so. However very much different, him and I, we proved to be close. He is extroverted; I call myself introverted. He is a soccer legend in school; I've earned the title of "Computer Geek" the first week of attending Odaiba High. He was prone to involving himself in a few physical squabbles with fellow classmates, even after those rather violent encounters with Yamato in the Digital World. I would find a way to solve problems using the technique of conversation.

My opposite. Yet, I am able to say that he is my closest companion, the one I can freely say anything to.

Which leads to the next prerequisite. Taichi being such a close friend, he would have to be someone that I am indeed fond of. I enjoy spending my time with him, whether it is in the ever-changing lands of the world inside every computer or in his room fighting imaginary battles in his latest video game. I have pure confidence bubbling inside of me whenever I'm around him. No one else seems to have that sort of effect on me. He is my reactor.

And then, this could certainly explain the bond between him and I. We've come to accept and embrace our obvious differences, differences that would usually drive teenagers apart in the uncertainty that is high school. He understands me, I understand him.

Or rather, I thought I once did.

Never once have I imagined that he wanted to kiss me, but I guess I had never once speculated about Taichi in that light before. There were times when I remained fixated as he wove through his opponents during a soccer match after classes, gracefully maneuvering the ball. And I remember feeling odd twinges in my stomach whenever he suggested spending the day looking at females in the park or at the beach.

That emotion may have been jealousy, but we have to look at the situation like a simple equation before we can make broad assumptions. When an individual desires to give attention to someone else rather than you and you feel a sort of anger or sadness at that point, then that emotion is considered jealousy, the jealousy stemming from the fact that you were not receiving attention from the individual. This means that you want the individual to yourself, no one else around so that you can have their undivided immersion.

It's a unique kind of attachment that one feels, an attachment that only occurs in two sorts of situations, those being to a parent from a child or from one person who is "in love" with another.

Now when you have the solutions to the equation, the solution that does not make sense according to the domain of the equation must be cancelled out.

The glint of sunlight that managed to squeeze through the enclosed blinds shot open my half-lidded eyes, the sudden flash of bright light jumbling my rationalization for that small moment. Pale blues and oranges glowed through the slits, illuminating the bedroom as they signaled the beginnings of a Saturday morning. The faint chirping of birds outside my window awakened the new day, almost urging the rest of the world to stir from their slumber.

As expected, Mother called my name from the other side of the door, knocking softly three times before asking what I wanted for breakfast. I sensed that Father was also nearby, awaiting my reply in hopes that nothing was disturbing his only son. They won't be left in the dark forever.

In a mellow tone I disclosed to Mother that I didn't feel in the least bit hungry at that moment, but that I'll most likely wish for something later on. And after a dense pause I added that I needed to do a few hours of research for a paper on Lenin's rise to power due in two weeks. Funny how we were really studying China under Mao.

Another minute of silence crept by before she quietly answered with a solemn "okay", stepping away from the door. Father will comfort her; she'll be fine. I just needed to sort out my thoughts.

Indeed I was fortunate that the little girl still remained sound asleep even as the rays of sun stained across her face grew more luminous.

The equation was solved anyway.

Now, to fit in that variable into the expression.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Haha! I'm on a roll! I updated within a week! Yay. So, um, yes. Nothing happening yet. But stuff will go on, I promise. Jeex.