I told him absolutely everything. It was kind of nerve racking, to be honest. All he did was sit and patiently listen. I couldn't bring myself to look at him until the very end, which was about 2 and a half hours later. The hard parts were just that: hard. But I somehow managed to keep myself calm rather than throw myself into another hysterical fit. The finish was really abrupt; how do you end a story like this? So we both sat there in silence for a long while until I finally decided it would be okay to look at him. He was staring at the table as if I hadn't even spoken about anything other than the weather.

"…Uh. I hope you're not like…freaking out or something?" I prompted, leaning forward a bit to get him to look at me. He blinked as if he just realized he was awake, and then shifted his gaze to meet mine.

"Kokone… I -"

"Kokone-ah?" my mother called sharply. I hadn't even heard the door open. Both of us were startled almost out of our chairs, and we each turned to the sound of her voice. "Kokone-ah! Come out of your room now, we need to -" She stopped once she was in the kitchen, noticing us at the table.

"Ah. So you're here." I wasn't sure if she meant me or Ichiro, but Ichiro raised one of his hands in greeting and said sweetly:

"Annyeounghaseyo, Eomeoni." She nodded, muttering an "annyeounghaseyo" in return.

"Well, I guess I'll get going. I'll uh…see you tomorrow, Kone-chan." I smiled and waved slightly as he got up to go. Once the door closed, I turned to the current issue; my mother never called me out of my room to talk.

"Omma, what is it we need to do?" She had busied herself with putting away the dishes I had set out to dry on the rack, and now turned to me as she held one. Her face looked tired, still strikingly beautiful, but exhausted all the same. I cocked my head in confusion.

"Is everything alright?" I asked cautiously. We never emitted this question to each other – EVER.

"Mm…well," she sighed before continuing. "It's about Hyo Yeoung-ah."

"…What about him?"

"His aunt died this evening." I felt my jaw drop and my eyebrows come together in confusion.

"You don't mean…not Han Cho Hee?" My mother hissed at me.

"Just because she's dead doesn't mean you can go around saying her name with such disrespect. Aish, you wicked girl…" She shook her head and turned to the sink to wash her hands.

"…She…died? Just like that? Have you seen Hyo Yeoung-ssi?"

"He was at the hospital. I've never seen him in such a horrible position before. All that trouble with his father back in Korea, and then his mother dying…His uncle isn't as fond of him as his aunt was." I was at a loss for words.

"Wait…what? His mother is dead too? I thought his parents lived in Kyoto -"

"Ah, they moved here soon after his mother was diagnosed with lung cancer. If I recall correctly, his father moved back to Korea afterwards…"

"They just left him here?"

"Mmm…" she hummed as she filled a teakettle with water to boil for tea. I noted in the back of my mind that this was the longest conversation I'd ever had with my mother in a looooong time…

"That's terrible…is there going to be a funeral?"

"Well of course. I hope Hyo Yeoung-ah shows. The poor child…" she started mumbling sad words to herself, which struck me as odd, but then again, she could apparently only feel sympathy for children that weren't hers.

"…Well. Let me know about it then. I'm going to bed." I got up and started for my room, still dumbfounded by this newly discovered information.

"Kokone-ah!" she called after me.

"Mm?" I turned back just so I could make eye contact. Her back was facing me though.

"…Will you go to the funeral in my place?" She nearly mumbled. I struggled to hear her.

"Huh?"

"The funeral. For Cho Hee-ah. Will you go in my place? I made my peace with her already." Her tone struck a chord somewhere inside me, but I wasn't sure why.

"Uh. Sure, I guess. Why?" The water was now boiling, so she took the kettle off of the stove and poured some of the water over the tea bag in her little cup. Picking it up gently, she turned to head to her room, snapping the kitchen light off as she went. Before she completely passed me, she stopped and said a bit morbidly:

"I can't stand funerals."

I didn't sleep that night; I was way too afraid to. Something told me that this problem should be addressed in some sort of way, but at the same time, it seemed like admitting it existed would only make it worse. Not everything in my mind needed to be shared…I shuddered at the thought of someone actually knowing my every thought.

So I just lay there all night long, either staring out my window or at the ceiling, occasionally getting up to pad around the house quietly and swiftly – just to make sure.

I had to make sure I never had another one of those fits with Ichiro again – no matter what.

When my clock finally turned to 4:26, I couldn't stand it any longer. I figured since the sun was at least rising that it would be alright if I pretended to have gotten up early, throwing together my gym bag as I silently hoped the local training facility was open at this time.

It was cooler in the morning, but I could almost feel the heat that was inevitably to come. Only a few weeks left of summer though, I told myself. Soon I'd have to start back at school again, most likely be regarded with careful and suspicious eyes for at least a few months before everyone got used to my sterile silence once more.

Luckily, the gym was 24 hour, something I hadn't even thought of even though I had been coming here for years. It seemed like it was always open, I guess because it was, but usually when I went, it was never at a regular time of day. I never had a schedule, usually just went when I felt like it, usually at night. I found that if I attempted to beat the stuffing out of the training dummies, I would sleep deeper, and thus had less violent or sometimes nonexistent dreams. This time however, I was just trying to relieve the stress that seemed to elevate my shoulder with every passing second of the night.

After about an hour and a half, I decided to shower at the gym rather than return home. I wasn't sure how to approach my mother now after she asked me to replace her at her friend's funeral. I knew it must have been hard for her, but it just showed what my father's funeral had done to her.

Now…where to next? I thought. There really was no other place to go but home…unless Ichiro was awake. That was possible, but even so…it seemed entirely too early. But at the same time…

I suddenly felt the weight of my tiredness as I slumped down the sidewalk. It became apparent to me that I needed to lay down before I passed out, so I supposed I could just let myself into Ichiro's house and wait for him to wake up.

This sounds creepy, believe me I know. But it was definitely not out of the ordinary if Ichiro came downstairs one morning to find me sprawled out on his couch downstairs – especially when his parents weren't home.

Shoot…his parents, I thought. Were they home?

Eh, who cares, my mind sleepily quieted the more aware part of my brain. I trudged in the general direction of Ichiro's house, and when I finally made it there, I dug around for the key and was barely able to get the key in the lock as I fought to keep my eyes open.

Sheesh, not sleeping shouldn't have had this much of an effect on me…right? I used to be able to handle this kind of stuff and now…now I felt like a wimpy, weaker version of myself.

Despicable.

I dropped my bag on the ground next to the nearest couch, then nearly threw myself onto it. Oh, Jesus, I thought, did this couch ever feel so comfortable before? I curled up in the corner of it and soon feel asleep with my arm dangling off the side.

Ogawa Ichiro's POV:

There was nothing there. Absolutely, positively, supposedly nothing there. It was pitch black, blacker than closing yourself in one of those caverns that archaeologists discover as they go. I was able to advocate to this claim that wherever I happened to be was darker than death itself.

This would have been fine, in fact, preferable, had I been able to breathe. It was almost like the emptiness was consuming me whole, and no amount of fighting could get me through it to the other side. I knew what this feeling was.

The feeling that I would be dead in a matter of seconds, and that I wouldn't be able to save the ones I loved.

I sat straight up in bed with a gasp once I came to, feeling like I had been underwater the whole time I was laying on my bed. I looked around me to verify where I was, and then was finally able to get my breathing back under control. I wiped my forehead as I shoved myself off the bed and towards the door, deciding that maybe breakfast would help me think more clearly.

I slumped down the stairs and glanced at the clock; it was 7:15. With time, I came to notice that I was sleeping longer and longer with each night, but I wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not. I sighed and turned towards the kitchen, then stopped when I noticed the familiar black gym bag that was only half zipped lying just past the other entrance to the kitchen. Kokone, I thought. I poked my head just into the entryway and sure enough, there she was, tiny as ever, curled up on my couch. Her hand was hanging precariously off the arm of it, while the other was resting under her head as a sort of pillow. She seemed peaceful enough, so at least she was most likely not having some horrid dream…

I stepped forward and knelt down so that I was at eye level with her – or, would be I suppose, if she was awake. Part of her hair was in her face slightly, so I reached forward and tucked it behind her ear, feeling her satiny soft cheek grazing my fingertips. There were goosebumps on her arms.

In one fluid motion I stood up and grabbed the afghan that was on the other side of the couch, flipping it out and over her carefully. She reacted naturally by snuggling closer with it, and with this I decided she could probably save herself some bad neck pain by changing positions…

I lifted her head carefully, bringing her dangling arm back over to where it was sitting in her lap. She was still asleep, so I took another chance and scooped her legs up slightly to stretch her out a bit more, moving the pillow so that she now lay in a more comfortable and natural position on the couch.

Alright, I thought, heading back for the kitchen, I'll just make breakfast…and when she wakes up, everything will be normal…right?

When she told me everything last night…I was positive I was having some sort of calm nightmare, if that even made sense. But how could this have all happened to her? And how could I not have known? I opened the fridge and grabbed the carton of eggs, lifting 3 out carefully before replacing it.

But seriously, it was unbelievable. Just…how? I was baffled to even begin thinking about all of this at the same time.

First her dad is involved with some syndicate because he was threatened. Then he was killed for not wanting to finish creating a drug that would silently kill people. Kokone was almost killed. Almost a decade later, she had a hint about some kid named Kudo Shinichi that had disappeared, and felt like she was being watched. She left. Then she found Kudo Shinichi and another girl that was in the same state as him – that of a child because of her father's drug – who was from a family that was associated with her father. She spent her time researching, learning. She was attacked by a guy with a camera that had nothing to do with the syndicate. She came back after she was getting sick. We spent a few days together. She left, we fought, we made up, she found the antidote, then the whole thing with Heiji and her getting kidnapped…and that's where I came in.

A fairly basic and frank summation, but more or less, it still sounded insane. I wasn't sure if it was a real story or not.

I shook my head and hissed under my breath in frustration. She had kept all of this from me. She could have died.

But what could I say? I couldn't get mad at her for it exactly, not without feeling like an ass. She knew she was next on that organization's list and she was right…which is why she didn't want me to be a part of any of it. I looked up at the ceiling, as if looking to it for an answer to all this madness. Something sizzled, and when I looked down, I realized it was my hand, burning on the metal part of the frying pan handle.

"Shit." I said, immediately taking my hand off and shaking it around. "Ow, ow, ow, ow…" I turned to the sink and flipped the water on, letting it run over my throbbing hand. "Shhhhhhhhit…"

"…Ichiro? What are you – hey, what did you do? Something's burning in here…" My head snapped up and over to where Kokone was standing in the archway of the kitchen. Her eyebrows were scrunched together as she came to inspect the situation.

"..You can smell that?" I asked, completely mystified. I hadn't left my hand on the searing pan for that long…

"Yeck. Why are you letting the eggs burn so much? Of course I can smell that." She picked up the pan and turned off the stove, coming to meet me at the sink, where my hand was still being treated with cold water. The skin on it was an angry pink, and I swore I could already see the burn blister appearing.

"What are you doing? Let me put this pan in the sink. Oh. Woah, Ichiro, what the hell did you do? Did you burn yourself?" She quickly put the pan in the other side of the sink and grabbed my hand to get a closer look. I cringed; my hand was turning redder by the minute.

"Aishhh, Chiro…" she said in an almost scolding voice. "What did you do? This is gonna have a bad blister…I'll go get something for it, hang on." She disappeared upstairs before I could get a word in. It only took her a minute to come back down with the small first aid kit we kept in the upstairs bathroom. She set it on the counter and opened it up, scavenging through the contents.

"Let's see, let's see…Ah. Here we go." She dabbed a bit of inflammatory ointment on her finger, then looked at me for approval. "It might burn a little bit. I won't push too hard, alright?"

"Uh – sure…" I mumbled. I felt like an idiot. She nodded, then ever so gently started to spread the ointment over the red area of my palm. It did burn at first, but then it started to get a little bit better. She turned again and retrieved a giant Band-Aid from the box, unwrapping it and placing it carefully on the main part of it, then took actual cloth bandages and wrapped them around my hand, as carefully as could possibly be.

"There," she piped, looking up at me with a light smile. She was still holding my hand with both of hers until she patted the back of it and then let go to put the first aid stuff away. Why was I unable to say anything?

"Uh – th-thanks," I muttered. She turned to me suspiciously.

"…No problem. What's got you so worked up this morning?" She raised an eyebrow curiously.

"N-nothing really. Just forgot that that pan…sucks." What? How does a pan suck? Oh Jesus, Ichiro, you're such an idiot.

"…You're being really weird."

"I'm not. Just making breakfast. I'm allowed to burn myself sometimes, right?"

"I suppose but..that's a pretty big one, all things considered…why'd you leave it to burn for so long? Were you just distracted or something."

"Mmmm." I answered, turning to the fridge to get some orange juice. Well, really I was just searching for an excuse not to have to face her, but still.

"…Is it because of everything I said last night? We never really got the chance to actually talk about it…"

"Uh. Well, I was thinking about that, yes."

"I hope I didn't…" I waited for her to finish, but she never did. With my glass of orange juice in hand now, I had no choice but to turn and look at her. She was staring at the first aid kit, contemplating something with a sad look on her face.

"Didn't what?"

"Huh? I uh…Well what I meant to say was…I…uhm." She bit her lip nervously.

"…yes?"

"Basically…I hope I didn't mess things up. I uh…hope I didn't…hurt you, or anything." Her cheeks were pink as she focused on the assorted Band-Aids. I wasn't exactly sure how to respond.

"Hey, don't worry about it," I said. "It's just…a lot to take in. I'm fine. Are you…fine?" She looked up with this question, then sighed.

"I suppose…just tired is all."

"When did you get here last night?"

"Uhm…it was actually at about 6 this morning."

"Oh. So you were only here for what? An hour and a half? Did you wake up with a bad dream again or something?"

"N-no…" She was picking at the first aid sticker anxiously. "I never exactly went to sleep…" I almost spit out my orange juice.

"So you only slept for as long as you've been here? Go back to sleep right now! You're going to hurt yourself, sheesh." I took another sip, waiting for her to respond.

"Maybe. Or maybe it's better not to sleep. In any case, I'll sleep later anyway, alright? Is that acceptable? I have things to take care of today…"

"Like what?"

"My mom wants me to go to a funeral for her. I have to find out when it is…aw crap, I also have to find something to wear. Can you believe that my mom got rid of all my black clothing while I was gone? Unbelievable. She thinks if I wear more colors I'll be more appealing to Korean guys." She snorted. "As if only Koreans notice colors or something." I had to stifle a laugh.

"That's funny."

"I guess it kind of is, huh." She looked up at me with that sly smile that I had missed so much. Up until that moment, I hadn't realized how long it had been since she smiled that way; the way she does when she's either about to do something exciting (dangerous) or when some sort of sarcastic argument was running through her head. I smiled back, and then there was a knock on the door.

"Coming," I called. When I reached the door and opened it, there they were. Of course.

"Yooo, Ichiro-san! We weren't sure if you'd be awake yet, but we decided to come over anyway."

"We? I told you we should have waited longer, Heiji!"

"Well we obviously didn't have to. See? He's awake!" I sighed.

"Come on in, then." After kicking off their shoes, they followed me into the kitchen, where Kokone was now sitting at the table after having helped herself to some toast. She waved as she chewed, smiling slightly with her legs folded under her, giving her the appearance of a child.

"Ahhh, Kokone-chan's here too? Hmm…" Heiji raised his eyebrows at me suggestively. I hit him on his shoulder. "Oi! I was just kidding…"

"Hi, Kokone-chan! How are you? We haven't seen you guys in a few days, huh?" Kazuha said as she took a seat across from her.

"I'm fine, thanks. How are -"

"Do you want to go shopping later with me? I don't have anything to wear for this Farewell Party thing..."

"What farewell party thing? Aigoo, Kazuha, I hate shopping…"

"Hey, you did say you needed something black right? Just go with her," I urged, taking a bite of my toast.

"Yes, yes! Come with me Kokone-chaaaaaan, pleeeeeeease?" Kokone rolled her eyes.

"Fine. But it can't take too long. Now what is this Farewell Party you're talking about?"

"Oh! Heiji's taking me as his guest. Someone from the police force is retiring and Heiji's dad wanted Heiji to come. They can come, right?" She turned to Heiji hopefully.

"Yeah, of course." I noted that Heiji seemed to be awfully quiet for once, but pushed that thought aside.

"When is it?" I asked.

"Tomorrow night."

"I can go, I guess. What about you, Kokone?"

"Hm? Oh, I suppose I can…well actually, I need to check on something first, but for now count me in. Who's retiring?"

"Hayashi Hikaru-san. He's been with on the force with my dad for years. Hard to believe he's calling it quits." Heiji shook his head in disbelief.

"Is that why you're being so quiet?" Kokone asked. So I wasn't the only one who noticed…

"Ah, no…not exactly. See, I came here to uh -" His phone started ringing. "Excuse me for a second." He pulled his phone out, checked the ID and turned to answer it.

"Ahh. Kudo! I was wondering if I should call you back or not." He listened for a minute. "Actually, she's right here. They both are, as a matter of fact, I'm at Ichiro-san's house. You want to talk to her? Oh? Then you want to talk to Ichiro-san…? Oh, alright. Sure, I'll pass that message along. In 2 weeks? Alright. Ja ne!" He hung up and stuffed the phone back in his pocket.

"What did Kudo-kun want?" Kazuha wondered aloud for us.

"Well…he called to confirm the date of the trial. He wants you guys to testify. Particularly you, Kokone-chan."

"The trial? Against the whole organization?"

"No, just against the blond guy."

"Gin," Kokone stated for clarification.

"Right. Him." It was silent for a moment.

"…Are you testifying?" Kokone finally asked him.

"I guess I should, huh?"

"Well I'm sure as hell not going up there by myself…Ichiro, what about you? Are you okay to do that?"

"…I guess. If it puts this guy in jail for life, then no doubt. I'll go with you." Kokone nodded with a determined but shaky smile.

"Then it's settled. We're testifying against Gin in 2 weeks."