A/N: I'm just… going to leave this here. ;)

And this chapter hearkens back to Chapter 16… sort of. At least in the beginning.

Happy reading! And thank you, as always, for your reviews and your readership. :)

And, of course, I wish you all a Merry Christmas! ( O ¡Feliz Navidad!, ou Joyeux Noël!)

Happy Holidays!

xXx

THIRTY-SIX

xXx

The skid of her boots on the sidewalk only reminded him that they weren't talking. But unlike the last time the two of them took the awkward trek back—alone—to Hana's apartment, there wasn't the heat of summer, and there weren't the distant conversations of their friends walking ahead, or the zooms of passing cars. There wasn't even the embarrassing faux pas of accidentally brushing hands. Hana's hands were firmly stuffed into her coat pockets and his were stiff at his sides. The only thing that did stay the same was that Tai, once again, had his tongue in a knot.

"Thanks for walking me home," Hana said out of the blue, her voice muffled by the thick scarf she had wrapped around her neck.

He turned and looked down at her.

"Yeah, anytime, Han," he said, his breath leaving him in a cloud of mist. "It's the least I could do. And I'm not going to let you go home on Davis's bike again."

She giggled.

"I know, but I still feel bad. The party was still going on, and you had every right to stay and have fun. I mean, Yolei caught Ken under the mistletoe. Joe and Cody were duking it out on a karaoke sing-a-thon. I wish I could have joined everyone else playing 'Never Have I Ever…' Instead, I end up being the partypooper who has to leave early because…" Her voice died as she inhaled the cold air.

"Because of what?"

Her green eyes peeked at him, but her mouth remained silent about the subject.

"Nothing," she mumbled.

He didn't press her on the matter, and they walked the rest of the way to Hana's apartment in building silence. It was only once they were in the complex and making way to the elevator did Hana gently set her hand on Tai's elbow. He knew what such a gesture meant instantly. She had something important to say. He braced himself.

"Tai," she began, looking up at him. The elevator doors 'pinged' open.

He waited, patiently, for her to go on.

"Tai," she repeated. The green eyes looked south. The head bowed. What followed was spoken with flagrant difficulty. "I'm not going back to school after winter break."

Before she could let him reply, she stepped in between the elevator doors as they were about to shut, going in quickly and punching the button for the eleventh floor. Tai pursued her, eyebrows knitted, his face puckered in confusion.

"What? What do you mean you're not coming back to school?"

She exhaled loudly through her nose, the sound of her breath whooshing out of her filling the elevator car with her long kept secret.

"It's too much," she confessed. "I can't do ballet and school separately. I…" She slumped against her side of the elevator wall. "I've enrolled in the ballet school. I start in January, after the New Year. It's a boarding school, so I… I have to live in their dormitories—"

Tai cut her off there. If the words leaving her mouth were tangible things, he'd have swatted them down, but they weren't. He couldn't do anything against what she was saying. He was completely at their mercy.

With a grunt, he pushed the emergency button on the elevator, stopping the car wherever it was on its journey to the eleventh floor. The sudden halt upset Hana's balance, and she wobbled a bit on her feet, grabbing onto the elevator railing to steady herself.

"So you're just leaving?" he burst.

"I just can't give ballet up, Tai," Hana responded, calmly. "I've invested too many years of my life into it. It is my life. I… I know that now. My grades for this trimester were awful. God awful. It didn't matter if I stayed up late or went to tutoring and study sessions and used every bit of my spare time studying. It just wasn't enough. I'm failing everything."

"Then…" He tossed his hands in the air, frustrated that he had next to nothing to say to her—nothing that would keep her where she was. "Then take the classes again next semester," he suggested, lamely.

"And what? Have everything repeat itself? There's only so much stress I can take, Tai. This trimester exceeded my limits. I need a break from it all. I need it. Please try to understand that."

His guard lowered, and he sank back against the elevator wall, running his fingers through his hair, trying to scrub out the feeling of helplessness that plagued him. Hana released the emergency button.

The elevator doors parted a few seconds later when they reached Hana's apartment floor, and she stepped out, half-expecting Tai not to follow her, for him to stay exactly where he was and make her walk the next several meters alone.

He didn't, even if he wanted to.

"It's not because of me, is it?" he asked tentatively, feet pausing as they reached Hana's front door.

"Of course not, Tai," Hana comforted. She came up to him and set a hand on his shoulder. "Why would you even think that?"

He stared blankly at her for a moment. If he remembered correctly, she gave him plenty of reasons to think that he was the center of her misfortune.

"You're not seriously asking that, are you?"

Hana blushed, her face—paled by the cold of winter—suddenly awash with color.

"What I said then was… unkind, Tai." The hand she had on his shoulder slid south, down his arm and to his fingers. She held them gingerly, as though she were touching something she had no right to feel. "Everything prior to that night, I had told you how much you meant to me, how much I appreciated our friendship and you, and then… I… I blew it up in your face. I didn't mean to. I didn't…" She hissed—both from the cold and from the weight of her confession. Her tongue wanted to speak with reckless abandon, but her mind wouldn't let it. She wouldn't botch her words up this time.

"I was just scared," she admitted, weakly. "I didn't want to let go of Ryo. I couldn't let go of him. Not after everything that he did for me, I couldn't. And I didn't know what it would be like, to live a life without him when he had been there for me since before I could remember. I didn't want to face that reality. I didn't want anything else to change, but everything already did. History didn't—couldn't—justify what he did to me."

Tai felt something wet drop onto his bare hands, hands that she still held in her own. It was the eve of Christmas Eve and he had made he cry. Perhaps not directly (or purposefully), but she was still crying because of him.

"Hana…"

"I'm sorry," she said, sniffing and blinking her tears away. "I really am. If I had known what would have happened, Tai, I wouldn't have… I'd have told you…"

He smiled thinly and gave her hands a light squeeze.

"It's okay, Han," he told her softly. "I didn't exactly…" He sighed. "… react well myself. I said a lot of things that night that I wish I could take back."

She shook her head at him.

"You had every right to react the way you did, Tai. You don't need to apologize for anything. I should have just been honest with you sooner—honest with myself, too."

Her eyes glimpsed bravely at his face and read in his gentle stare the fleeting flash of understanding. He smiled grimly.

"Let's just… put it behind us, right? It's the holidays, anyway. You shouldn't have this stuff on your mind. You deserve some rest and relaxation."

She laughed meekly.

"Well, you do have a habit of knowing what's best for me," she said.

He patted her gently on the shoulder, and she backed away from him afterwards, turning her back ever so slowly as she went to unlock her apartment door.

"So will I still see you after winter break and, you know, you go to ballet school?"

She stole a look at him while twisting her housekeys into the lock.

"You know where the academy is, Tai. You're always welcome to visit me if you'd like. I'd be happy to receive you." She paused. "But if you mean… something else… I can't quite say, Tai. I don't think right now's the best time to be rushing into anything."

"Yeah," he murmured, casting his stare sideways as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Story of my life," he mumbled to himself.

"What was that?" she asked. Her fingers were set on the doorknob, a detail that Tai was keenly, though unexplainably, aware of. He didn't want her to open the door and disappear behind it. He didn't want her to leave. How could he make that clear to her?

"Nothing," he said. He waited a heartbeat of a moment, brown eyes locked on hers, fist taut at his side. The moment ended and he stepped back. "Merry Christmas, Hana."

She smiled.

"Merry Christmas, Tai."

The world felt like it slowed the instant Hana turned her head around, eyes searching for the keys she left in the slot, fingertips reaching for the doorknob. Tai couldn't help it. He risked a glimpse at her over his shoulder, knowing full well that if he did, he'd never leave.

He went back, steps marching with conviction, eyes aimed at her. What he wanted to tell her couldn't be said. He had tried and he had failed, his words somehow always getting scrambled up in his mind, undecipherable, incoherent, meaningless. But he would make it clear to her this time. No more fumbles. No more mistakes. No more insinuations. She would know exactly what was on his mind—because she would feel it.

"Hana."

Her name was but a ruse, a distraction. She turned just as he came toward her. He did not hesitate. He did not falter. Swiftly, gently, recklessly, he grabbed hold of her face, and, in one liquid motion, kissed her full on the mouth.