(11/04 - I edited minor details in the prologue)

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[GRAVITY]

chapter one: lilies and tobacco

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White lilies.

They were the first, appropriate flowers to catch Sora's eye. She seized the clear, cellophane-wrapped bouquet from the display and immediately bolted for the exit of the store. She yelled over her shoulder, "See you in a bit. No need to worry. I'll pay you back, ma!" From behind the timber counter, her mother had half-opened her mouth to greet her daughter, but in an instant Sora had already rushed out of the florist.

Sora couldn't recall the last time she had felt this panicked, this exasperated with anxiety. The anticipated calm and leisurable stroll down her hometown had done a one-eighty. She was now stuck in a spiral of stress. If she hadn't taken a detour to Koushiro's, she wouldn't be experiencing this.

Then again, if she hadn't dropped by her friend's place...just when would she have found out about Takeru?

She wouldn't say she was close to him; but he had once upon a time been like a brother to her.

During her teenage years, every Tuesday and Wednesday night was dedicated to babysitting and tutoring Takeru. He was her off-the-side job, and her second source of pocket money when she wasn't helping out her parents at the florist. She'd argue with him, confiscating his gaming devices to get him to fall asleep. He'd debate why English and Japanese were more entertaining subjects, as opposed to how dry Mathematics was (It's soooo boring, onee-chan! Why does there have to be a definite answer? Life isn't like that!). And sometimes, if Takeru was well-behaved and finished his homework on time, Sora would brew them some hot chocolate, throw a blanket over their laps, and pop on a basketball game. She had kept an eye on him for almost three years and, according to Ms Takaishi, was the longest babysitter that had stuck around because he apparently 'scared off' the other sitters. Sora could see why.

The first time she had met him, he had been a spoilt brat, a darn nuisance. He was an angel in disguise, innocent-looking but the devil incarnate. Whenever his mother would step foot outside of the home, Takeru would cry until he'd get whatever he wanted. After a few babysitting sessions, Sora then discovered he had been keeping unpeeled onion shallots in his pockets. In other words, the kid had played her the whole time because he was in charge of triggering his own tears on command.

Sora didn't let it go. When she called him out on it, she immediately saw the evil glint in the kid's eye, and a mischievous smirk that curved on his lips. He had been testing her...which triggered Sora to scold him further on. And, maybe, because Sora did not turn a blind eye to his cheekiness, Takeru eventually developed a certain level of respect. He warmed up to her because she hadn't left him, like the previous babysitters had.

"Onee-chan, you're actually kind of funny."

"What do you mean by that?" She had tilted her head to the side, staring at him from across the kitchen table.

Takeru had stopped trying to solve the simple algebra equation, pencil forgotten and resting on top of the exercise book. It had meant Takeru was getting antsy, and was in search of any excuse to not do his homework.

"You know…." Takeru had replied off-handedly. He readjusted his cap, scratching the back of his neck.

"No, I don't," she had replied. The conversations she had with the kid never failed to amuse her. She wondered what he'd say and do to get out of studying. "Specify what you mean, TK."

"It's funny because you know everything about flowers, but the thing is-" Takeru had paused to smirk. It was like he already knew he was going to get into trouble for what he was going to say.

Sora had repeated, "The thing is?"

"-you sit like a guy."

"Oh, is that so?" Sora had said, struggling to keep a straight face for the wrath she was about to unleash on him. "So you won't be offended if I hit like a guy too, right?"

"Huh? What do you mean by that-AGH! Don't hit me!"

They had tackled on the floor after that, until Takeru had to tap out to get Sora to stop messing up his strawy-blond hair. They sat on the kitchen floor, breathless, and laughing so hard at each other that tears had actually run down their faces.

Sora gritted her teeth, sprinting down the pavement. No. He couldn't be dead. Not like this. So what if many people perished in the fire at Decks? Takeru was an athlete. It was impossible. He would have been able to make it out alive!

"You're right. He would have, Sora-" Koushiro had told her, "-but the last time he was seen, he was helping out an old lady get down a flight of stairs…"

Damn Takeru and his good intentions!

Her sneakers felt looser. She glimpsed down and saw that her shoelaces had become undone. They would have to wait. She had to get to Takeru's house.

The humidity was thick, and her lungs were burning. She could taste salt on her lips, but she didn't stop to wipe the layer of perspiration running down her face. Or were they her tears? She didn't know. Her heart was shattering in her chest. If she stood still, it would eat her up more. She had to see it with her own eyes if Takeru was really gone.

Gone?

Sora shuddered. It was something she didn't want to believe.

She was panting by the time she had arrived at her destination. Sora had forgotten how far the Takaishi's home was from hers. Now that she thought about it, she had taken the bus to get to the Takaishi residence. Unlike all the apartments that populated most of Odaiba, this was the only area that consisted of one-story homes - the richer side of town that was situated next to the bay. Dim lights aligned the street, lighting up the quiet area. When she had left the florist, the sun had still been up...and now it was hanging low, touching the horizon.

Dark orange inked the water. It almost felt eerie.

Then again, maybe it was because the last time Sora had been there...she had flung the metal gates, walking out of the front yard in tears. The irony was that she had now returned, and still tears were spilling from the corner of her eyes.

It wasn't like she had been planning to come back here, but it also wasn't like she was planning for Takeru to die either...

Sora had come this far, but now her stomach tumbled and she wanted to turn back and walk away. She stared hard at the home. Over the years, the garden seemed to have withered. It hadn't been taken care of. The rose bushes were dried up. Paint peeled from the fence, while there was an array of moss and rust that scattered the rooftop. The place that once had been well-maintained was now close to unrecognisable.

She couldn't ignore the light that teased behind the door though. Sora guessed that Takeru's mother or Yamato was probably home. She didn't know who else it would be. Takeru's father was never in the picture for as long as she had known the Takaishis. It was a taboo topic that she had dared to not talk about to any of the family, as there was not a single photo of him in the residence, nor none of them had willingly brought Mr Takaishi up in conversation.

Taking a deep breath, she quietly unlatched the gate and tip-toed across the pebbled footpath to the front door.

She knocked.

When nobody answered a minute later, she pressed the doorbell. She didn't hear the ringing inside the house. Perhaps the doorbell had run out of battery? Although it had been years since Sora had been there, she remembered the distinct tune's jingle.

Sora knocked again.

And again.

After the fifth series of knocking, and possibly inflicting the neighbours with headaches, Sora gave up. She inched closer, peering through the door's small window.

It was blurry. Although she couldn't see clearly into the house, she noted the yellow glow at the end of the hallway. The lounge was lit up; which meant there had to be somebody inside. And, as she pressed her ear against the door, she could hear the faint sound of music which confirmed her hypothesis.

She curled her fingers into a fist, rattling her hand onto the door.

Nothing.

Sora frowned. As she was about to turn to leave, her feet stopped her from moving away. She had to see Takeru. That was the purpose; why she had made the effort to go all this way. Her gaze drifted to the side, realising that her head was angled towards Takeru's old room. How many times she had seen him throw the curtains aside to wave at her, or when he'd pass her pencil, cellphone, bag, or any of her belongings she'd forget, through the window...the window.

It was never locked.

Although all the windows were locked, she remembered Takeru chattering on how he was a genius for breaking the latch to the window, and how his mother knew it when he'd sneak out. Would it be still…

Before she gathered any second thoughts, Sora was already edging towards Takeru's old room. Inside, it was pitch-black. However, the closer she got, she could hear that the music became louder. It was something jazzy, an assembly of dysfunctional notes that floated together to produce a peculiar melody. It was Takeru's taste in music, something Sora could never get her head around why a kid fancied old, instrumental jazz.

As she kept listening, she skimmed her fingers across the glass. There was a reason why the music was more audible to her...the window was slightly agape.

She glanced around her. Nobody was there to witness her break in. Sora wasn't going to really trespass, was she? This house belonged to her friend. When she'd get in, she'd see one of Takeru's family members and they'd be fine with her being there. It wasn't like she was a complete stranger. And technically, it was open - therefore meaning that she was permitted to enter the household...right?

Sora quietly slid the window to the side and carefully dropped the bouquet into the room. Now that there was enough space to access, she sucked in her breath and used her upper body strength to propel herself into the bedroom. Sora landed softly onto her feet, feeling proud with herself for not having made a sound.

In the dark, she felt around for her bearings. The bed, yes...that's it. The desk. Ouch. Of course there's a darn basketball on the floor! Light seeped from under the door. She finally made it, slightly pushing it open.

"Oomph!"

The wind was knocked out of her as a hard body shoved her down. She was too caught off guard to let out a scream, a plea for help. A cold chill radiated through her body.

Pulse pounding, she tried to get up, to crawl away. Her hands were suddenly yanked behind her back, followed with a knee crushing them down onto her back. She grimaced at the impact as she tried to fight herself out of the position. The attacker wouldn't give; and Sora knew that he wasn't intending to show her any mercy.

Normally Sora had no trouble escaping, but the attacker's grasp was firm. He had to be a professional. She might be caught, but she wasn't going down without a fight. After all the years of training, she wasn't going to let it go to waste. At least stealing a glance from her attacker would prove useful at some point. That is, if she were to escape...

Steadying her breathing, Sora shifted her head towards the side to get a view on her attacker. That was when her vision disappeared. The attacker had pulled her beanie over her eyes.

He flipped her around, wincing when her back connected to the floorboards. A weight fell over her - the asshole was straddling her!

Though she couldn't see the attacker, she knew it had to be a man. He had the build of one, and he was definitely much stronger. She had felt his biceps when he pushed her onto her back. A pinch of tobacco and gunpowder. Who knew what the crazy man was after? The last thing she wanted was for the man to have his way with her. There was no way in hell she was going to let that happen.

Sora needed to get out of there...fast.

She squirmed, trying to shuffle out of his grip. Sora hissed, trying to slap his arms out of the way, but found that she still couldn't move.

"Who are you?" A familiar voice demanded. It was a voice she knew way too well. She began to tremble. No, this couldn't be right.

"I don't care if you are female. You will answer my questions even if I have to force it out of you." The man continued to ruthlessly interrogate, "Who do you work for? Kazui?"

When Sora didn't answer, she felt something sharp against her neck.

Why was this happening to her? Takeru's dead, and now she has to deal with this? The way the man spoke unnerved her. This was unlike him. This wasn't the person she knew...

"Answer me!"

The pressure of the knife to her neck increased. If she gave him more time, the knife would certainly slice through her skin. So she bit her bottom lip, scrunching her toes and finally gained the courage to speak up.

"Matt..."

As soon as she did, he thrust the knife away from her neck. She heard it clatter in the distance. His body was off her and it was then that Sora could see again.

Her guess was right.

Yamato was standing before her, looking down at her as he held onto her beanie. His azure eyes were contorted with promised wrath, and with each breath he'd take, the anger slowly dissipated. He had recognised her, and from the way he kept staring down at her, she could tell that her ex-boyfriend was far from impressed.

"Why are you here, Sora?"

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(a/n) This chapter wouldn't shut up in my mind. Therefore, here it is. Before I even was thinking about writing this story, I always wanted to write last part in this chapter xD Haha.

Thanks for giving this story a try, and I hope you're enjoying it so far :)