A/N: Well here it is, the festival chapter! Although there's one more chapter of this particular arc (which I love and find fairly conclusive), this one's the main event for sure. Today is a good day for drama.

Cha0T1cPeace: Thanks so much for the review! I was surprised (but pleasantly so!) to hear that you like this story better than Heartbreak Cure. I've always sort of assumed TPS was my coddled underdog while everyone waits patiently for HC. Means a lot to me that you've noticed my effort into fleshing out Naoi and Yuri and their backgrounds. Also, glad you caught onto Naoi's little trick. You're on the right track!

Alright, I'm excited for this chapter so let's get this into gear. Enjoy!

[Chapter 30]: Watching You Stand Alone

When it came time for the festival, Ayato set up his display table and tended it like a good representative.

He wasn't allowed to sell at it, of course. As persuasive as Kimito could be, it was agreed that such a thing wouldn't be entirely ethical. However, his information sheets describing his pieces mentioned the store in the bolded bottom header.

His was a simple table draped in white. There were two other tables like it in this art room, but they were covered in woodworking sculptures and paintings. And they were unattended. The students that owned them had abandoned their posts, probably to get portraits and caricatures done in the room next to them. Apparently artists wanted to be painted too sometimes.

Ayato's paranoia provided a strong enough adhesive to keep him in his chair for a good half-hour, with only a few visiting students and his customer service persona for company. And he wasn't good company. Frankly, he creeped him out quite a bit.

After the pervasive belief that Kimito would sneak in and catch him away from his post finally cleared, he went on a semi-thorough investigation of the school grounds. He'd never really gone to a bunkasai before so it was fairly interesting to see what the school got up to in its spirited days. There was a green tea ceremony in one class and a haunted house in another. He enjoyed himself in the first class and almost survived the second, until a bloodcurdling scream made him almost drop dead on the spot.

"Kurimu," he said, still having palpitations. "I should have known it was you."

Though her face had gone bright red, Kurimu beamed apologetically. "Did I scare you? I'm sorry, I'm a bit skittish."

"Yet you go into a haunted house."

"Well if I didn't do things I was afraid of, I wouldn't have any fun," Kurimu said with a shrug, making Ayato lift an eyebrow. It was that simple for her? She smiled around at the decorations, including the severed arm on the counter, then turned to him with shining eyes. "So – you're here after all? I didn't think – well, never mind. Are you—"

A "headless" ghoul crossed their path. Kurimu shrieked at the top of her lungs. Grimacing, Ayato rubbed his ear with one hand and used the other to guide her out of the way. This was, he mused silently, the absolute worst place to run into her. She sounded like a tea kettle spitting helium.

Grateful, Kurimu stayed by his side. They stepped around red puddles and over suspiciously-shaped trash bags.

"Do you—" She paused, looking suspiciously at some dangling spider webs. "Are you going to see the play this afternoon?"

Ayato frowned. "I don't know," he said, and tugged her aside before some spindly fingers could paw at her skirt. "I might go back to my table. Ki—my father has me doing a ceramics display in one of the art rooms downstairs."

Kurimu frowned too, looking up at him. "Are you selling them?"

"No, not here."

"Are you teaching a pottery class?"

"No."

She looked severely unsatisfied with this. "Then why—"

A spooky laugh interrupted her, emanating through the haunted house and filling her with terror. Luckily all she did was squeak and get them to move faster.

He was pretty sure they were almost to the end already, which was good, because things were getting too inquisitive for his liking. He wouldn't have minded her company otherwise, it was just… he had to remember who she'd been spending lunch with for the past few weeks.

Sure enough, when there was a lull between the yells of other students, Kurimu tilted her head at him and tented her fingers.

"I just think," she said slowly, "it would make Yuri really happy if you—"

A figure shrouded in black crawling on all fours started charging at them horrifically fast. Kurimu saw it and started screaming. Lucky for Ayato, he'd screamed too loud to even hear hers. They dodged it and careened through the exit to safety.

Once they were out in the hallway, Kurimu gasp-laughed giddily at him, pointing.

"You screamed at that last one!" she said with happiness. "You were scared!"

"I was not!" Ayato said indignantly.

But Kurimu continued to look joyful, and he relaxed. Maybe the haunted house wasn't such a bad place to see her. It had cut her off at every question and terrified her into amnesia. Could've been worse.

"Do you want to get ice cream?" she asked. "That always calms me down. A lot of people have come down this hall with ice cream so maybe they're handing it out somewhere close by. I think—"

She was talking at him but presently he wondered if she had ulterior motives. Her other friends weren't with her – yet. The drama club was likely doing some last-minute rehearsing or run-throughs. Maybe she was trying to buy time with him until they showed up.

"Already got ya covered," said a voice from behind – and a cup of ice cream landed neatly in her open palm. Kurimu whirled around in surprise to see Hejjiguchi looking bashful with a matching pink spoon.

"Souma-kun," Kurimu said softly, confused but managing a gentle smile.

"Consider it a peace offering." He handed her the spoon with a wink and a dumb grin. "Wanna go check out some of the game booths until the drama club meeting lets out? There's this one art game I thought you'd like. You get to throw darts at paint balloons."

As if he'd said the magic word, she became alight with happiness and started bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"That's so messy!" she said, giving him a knowing look. "But it sounds like fun."

They parted ways, with Kurimu hoping aloud that they run into him again soon if they didn't see him at the play. Hejjiguchi made a teasing remark about Ayato trying to move in on her again, which he didn't care for. Then he winked and gave him a thumbs up before disappearing with Kurimu down a different hallway.

Ayato shook his head at them. He went outside and got some yakisoba at a food stall.

More of the day passed. He visited the game booths and did exceedingly well on the accuracy one where he used a gun to fire foam darts at things. A little too well, actually. A few students eyed him nervously as he claimed his rightful rewards.

No, he'd never used a gun before. So what if he handled it like a natural? Fault him for it!

There was also a student doing calligraphy, so he got her to write his name. 直井文人. He admired it thoughtfully while he was back at his post, gliding his finger just above the lines. On the chair next to him, he kept his open backpack, and occasionally reached into his bento box for a snack.

He hadn't gotten ice cream like Kurimu suggested. He'd already brought something sweet from home. There were too many of those little cakes left over, and they were too damn delicious not to bring in. Still, he took careful measures to not get crumbs on the paper.

Those who bothered to peek in through the open door might wonder why he was sitting in there alone instead of rejoining the festivities. But what they would call lonely, he would call a Saturday away from Kimito.

Still... He thumbed distractedly through his prize, the first volume of a manga about a mortal who became a god. Time was passing by, but how much? He had been reading for a while. The play might be not too far off. It discomfited him to think of missing it purely by accident. He wanted to have the choice.

Sounded like there was still a steady sea of people in the hall. Without looking up, he could hear girls giggling and exclaiming and fussing about something in the room next to his. Probably getting caricatures. There was supposed to be a choir performance before the play, so hallway traffic would probably thin out by then.

He finished the page he was on, then decided to check the time on the analog clock hanging above the doorway.

But his gaze never traveled that far north; it stopped at the familiar face peering into the room.

Yuri startled when he noticed her standing there, momentarily wide-eyed as if she had never meant to get caught. She stepped a foot to her left so that more of her was visible in the doorway.

"Hi," she said, a bit unsurely.

He stared at her, maybe too long. "Hi." The manga page fell from his pinched fingers. He didn't look to see if it landed on the right one.

She threw a brief glance around the room, inspecting its contents. It suddenly felt smaller to him – like he was sitting in a nook rather than a classroom. The vases and cups and figurines seemed more in the way.

"So, you're…" she paused, making a vague gesture at everything, "…here."

"Confined to a desk," he sort of lied. "But it could be worse." Yuri offered him a faint grin, understanding completely. "What are you doing here?"

A stupid question, now that he heard it come out of his mouth. But again, she knew what he meant.

"Kurimu, Ami, and I were just getting our caricatures done next door. We're kind of trying to relieve stress," she said, and looked nervous. "You know, before the performance."

He discreetly pushed at his backpack under the table so it wasn't gaping open. "Everything running smoothly?"

A wry sort of smile tugging at her lips, she leaned against the door frame and crossed her arms.

"Not for Horigoshi," she said with a rueful laugh. "You know Shiruba? That one tree guy who may or may not like Ami? He just... he made these chocolatey cakey things for the drama club to snack on before the play as a good luck gift. And they were really good. But apparently Horigoshi thought so too, because he got into them first. And Misako had to tell him they had strawberry in them. But he was already on his third."

Ayato simply twisted his lips at her, innocently raising his eyebrows. It was taking a diligent effort not to smile at the moment.

"He's got this strawberry sensitivity, so…" Yuri shrugged, but her lips twisted a little too. Was that a glimmer of sadism in her eyes?

"Does he…?" he said, with a mild acknowledging head tilt. Still trying to be as stone-faced as possible.

"Yeah, so later he started hurling all over the place. It was so gross," she said, almost cheerfully. "And that's not the only end it'll be coming out of, apparently. So now he's clutching his stomach and stuff and won't be able to perform. So now I'm actually going on because I'm the understudy." And she just kind of gave him this long stare, as if searching his face for a clue, which made him shift in his seat. Did she know something?

He didn't know what to say. It had been three-and-a-half weeks. That long since she said they weren't friends. Since she made new ones.

What was safe?

"Do you have your lines down?" he asked, and felt some remorse for not thinking of that before. "Think you're ready?"

Luckily, Yuri nodded without any hesitation.

"Yeah," she said. "The character pretty much comes naturally to me. Though Ami says I'd be a good Hanazawa." His face must've looked blank, because she frowned and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Well. You don't know the characters. You'd probably get it if you… never mind."

He looked at her, waiting. Not quite sure what for.

Yuri smiled awkwardly, standing up straighter and letting her hand slide off the doorway's wooden frame.

"Well, I've gotta go," she said. "Masuda, Ami, and I want to visit a few more game booths before the drama club meets up again. Only got half an hour until the play." She gave him that look again, speculative. He stared back at her. She turned to leave. "So… have fun."

He did a doubtful once-over of his surroundings. When he looked at the doorway again, she had gone.

"Yuri," he called.

A few seconds passed. Then there were footsteps, and her face reappeared. "Yeah?"

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded at her. "Do your best."

Her features softened. She sent him a tiny flicker of a half-smile, which made him sort of sad. "Thanks."

And she was gone again.

He listened to her footsteps fade off, then his gaze flicked to the clock. Just as she'd told him – half an hour until the play. He would be here. She would be off braving the haunted house with Ami and Masuda and then meeting up with the rest of her theatre friends to prepare backstage.

Somewhere, poor pitiful Horigoshi would be curled up in the fetal position spooning a waste bin.

Reaching into his backpack, he procured one of the cakes from the bento box and regarded it with interest. He grinned to himself and took a well-deserved bite, savoring the strawberry flavor.

And suddenly another rush of steps approached the classroom. He flung the cake over his shoulder in a bewildered panic just as Yuri burst in again.

"Naoi, I—"

She stopped in her tracks, staring at him for a moment. He quickly regained his composure and matched her stare impassively, waiting. Finally, she blinked a couple of times and shook her head.

"Never mind," she said, quietly embarrassed. "It's nothing." She left and didn't come back.

Ayato frowned mournfully at the smushed cake on the floor behind him.

It took twenty minutes for him to pluck up the courage to get out of the art room.

In that time, the auditorium had filled up very generously. The lights were dimmed but the curtain was down, probably a preparation break between the choir's performance and the play. When he opened the door, the auditorium flooded with light, but he didn't get too many stares because a few other latecomers were filing into the room along with him.

Discreetly, he meandered the aisles looking for empty seats. He spotted the tree-danglers near the back, Shiruba looking very cowed while Takamori from Ayato's class sympathetically patted his hand. Nezumi caught him looking and flashed him a positively gleeful earsplitting grin.

Hejjiguchi and Kurimu sat together near the front. Not front row seats, but still third. He recognized the duo by Kurimu's huge mane of hair – she and Hejjiguchi were sitting close enough that some of it draped over his shoulder. Obviously those two had made up. But that didn't mean he was keen on taking the empty seat behind them. He backtracked to the fifth row where there was a single seat he hadn't noticed to the middle-left.

Edging past students on his way to the end, he accidentally stepped on a girl's toes. He muttered an apology and glanced over at her.

"It's alright," she said airily. She had long silvery-white hair and a perpetually distracted expression, and wasn't wearing the Akuma student uniform. He didn't think she went to this school, but her voice sounded kind of familiar. Didn't he know her from somewhere?

He had wasted enough time wondering, so he snapped himself out of his thoughts and went to claim his seat.

The curtain went up. Ami was tucked into an infirmary bed, looking small under the sheets. From the third row, Hejjiguchi gave a supportive high-pitched whistle. A heart monitor beeped steadily in the background, a big red heart glowing on the wall with an EKG layered over it, until both faded out. A nice touch.

Was that Yuri's doing? He was already impressed.

Admittedly, the play held his attention from the start. It was hard to imagine Ami as someone meek, frail, and quiet, but she played the part well. Her character Hanazawa had lost her entire heart due to illness (he was willing to suspend belief) and lived a weak and lonely life because of it. But then she made a new friend who was curious about her and wanted to give her strength.

Kamiya began helping Hanazawa live life, introducing her to fun things and going on adventures with her. On their adventures, Hanazawa discovered more friends one by one. Each time she made a new friend and did something meaningful with them, a glowing heart would appear again with an EKG line and a pretty sound meant to symbolize a beat. It was charming to say the least.

He was intrigued by the short black-haired girl who played Ogata and masterfully teased the sporty Kimura. The great hungry demon was impressive and almost literally straight out of one of his nightmares. And he was amazed by how creepy Masuda's voice sounded coming from above, while Ami argued fiercely with him for the souls of her friends.

But Yuri...

When a number of people gasped and cheered for her the moment she first came onstage, they had no idea what she had in store for them. Her voice carried through the auditorium, strong and sure with a cheerful bite. He had once heard Ami describe the character Sakurai as "the mom friend." Watching now, he could sort of see it (hovering around her friends protectively, chastising them one moment but pushing them behind her in the face of danger the next), but part of him wondered if it wasn't her sisterly side emerging from the darkness.

She only seemed to flub three lines – pretty damn good for an emergency understudy – but easily bounced back. Her fellow cast mates would grin at her, likely breaking character, and play it off so seamlessly he couldn't tell if the reactions were scripted.

She looked happy up there, with them.

At the end, Hanazawa got her friends back from the bodiless omniscient figure with their hearts and souls intact. It was revealed her heart was complete, and she finally got to rejoin school and be with her new friends like she truly wanted. After the school day, and saying goodbye to her friends, she stood alone downstage. Ami held a hand to her heart and whispered softly, "Let's play again someday." The glowing heart and EKG appeared on the wall for a final steady beat.

When the curtain closed, the audience burst into thunderous applause.

Ayato stood up with everyone and joined in the standing ovation when the cast reemerged to bow. Yuri beamed out at the audience, literally glowing under the spotlights. As she and her castmates headed offstage, the loudspeaker announced another performance he wasn't going to wait around to watch. He got up from his seat and navigated his way into the aisle.

Imagine… if he had actually missed out on that play.

The aquatic monster costume was a little sparkly and ridiculous as it tried to get the friends into its mouth, but still. On a school budget… And Yuri had truly done well.

He could at least congratulate her. She did deserve that much.

His display table could wait for now.

Locating her was not an easy task at first. He eventually learned from another student that the drama club members had planned to convene in the hallway outside their club room, where they would soon be holding their after-party.

Which, yes, made some sense. But he'd never visited the drama club before. He got directions from yet another student and headed in the way he was pointed.

By the time he got there, a sizeable crowd had milled around a few of the members still in the hall. Ami, Yuri, and the girl who played Ogata were in the middle of a circle of fangirling classmates. From the looks of it, that included Kurimu, Hejjiguchi, Marina, and Hirohashi.

"—so amazing!"

"Those wings! Kawata, you have to let me borrow those wings!"

"I cried so hard at the end!"

"Sakurai was my favorite character!"

"Where have you been hiding?"

Yuri looked a little overwhelmed, in a good way, at the shower of praise heaped upon her. Her eyes were bright as she talked animatedly with Hejjiguchi and laughingly signed Kurimu's sketchbook.

Meanwhile, Ami unlatched her arm from Yuri's to check her phone.

"I got a text from Jinko," she announced, and the Ogata girl – Sayuki, he deduced from the chatter – peeked over her shoulder expectantly. "Said she got snagged by Tachibana on the way here because she has to leave soon. So right now she's trying to negotiate with her to stay for part of the after-party."

Yuri hummed thoughtfully. "Hope it works. I really wanted to meet her."

"Me too, with an imagination like that." Ami put her phone away in her bag. "Well, I'm going inside. Masuda says nothing with apple is safe around him for long." She cast a sidelong look at Hirohashi and added brightly, "You can tell Shiruba I forgive him. If it weren't for him, Yuri and I wouldn't have gotten to perform together. But don't tell Horigoshi I said that!"

Hirohashi laughed sheepishly. "He really didn't know Horigoshi couldn't eat strawberries. If he had, he'd…" He trailed off, blushing.

Ami waved dismissively at him and opened the club room door. "It's fine, it's fine. Yuri, Sayuki, don't be too long! When Jinko gets here, we wanna get this party going!"

She gave a happy goodbye to Hejjiguchi and Kurimu, promising to leave room in her stomach so the trio could do another mini-celebration with food later. It was just Yuri and Sayuki chatting up the crowd for a bit, then the tall Kimura actress snuck out of the club room and attacked Sayuki, who hollered and jumped up on her back ("I'll drop you!" "No you won't! Onward!"). They took their roughhousing inside, and then it was just Yuri with all her fans.

Theoretically, Ayato could leave his hiding spot at the corner of the wall by the staircase. He could stroll right up, part the sea, and tell Yuri she'd done a great job.

Instead, he stayed where he was. Something held him back, kept him from interrupting. As if standing there with all her admirers, talking grandly at the center of attention, she had formed an impenetrable barrier between them.

He waited as the crowd began to thin out. The circle around her got smaller and smaller, and then the remaining students said their final congratulations and became like a thin stream trickling into the other hallways.

Yuri lingered for a moment, leaning against the wall with a tired little sigh. She got out her phone and sent a quick text, her smile turning sort of sad. He wondered if she was waiting for someone. Jinko and Tachibana, maybe. There was still traffic in the halls, students bounding past the drama club squealing about ice cream, steady footsteps and chatter nearby.

But Yuri put away her phone, grinning a bit more genuinely this time, and turned to reach for the door handle.

"So the rumors are true."

She froze before her fingertips grazed the handle. Her shoulders tensed, then her whole body. He wasn't the only one who recognized that voice.

Hisakawa emerged from another hallway, taking a few careful strides toward her. Just as suddenly as she'd advanced on Yuri, she stopped. Arms crossed, she stared at Yuri's back with a distrustful frown.

"You're actually letting yourself have friends now," she said.

With a sigh, Yuri let her hand drop loosely at her side. She muttered under her breath, as if to the door, "Don't start."

"'Don't start?'" Hisakawa repeated, an incredulous laugh cutting short and giving way to tense indignation. "You haven't spoken to me for almost three years and the first words I get are 'don't start'?"

Yuri turned slowly to face her. Even from a distance, he recognized the detached glaze in her eyes. It was that look she got when she was in a different world, locked in an empty white room with her memories. Hisakawa wouldn't be getting much out of her as long as she was like this.

"Let's just say I don't think you're here to congratulate me," she said crisply.

Ayato pressed himself against the wall, practically hugging the corner as he peered out at the two. Some kids looked oddly at him as they came down the stairs. He didn't mind that right now, as long as they kept it to themselves. He couldn't move from this spot. A voice inside him told him to leave, to "mind his own goddamn business," but something even stronger implored him to stay.

"The others wanted to, you know," Hisakawa told her. Others? "They thought you were great. But they're not here because they don't want to bother you." Her eyebrows drew together as she gave her a reproachful frown. "Saki said she saw you watching our field practice in October, and she waved at you. And you completely blew her off."

"I wasn't watching," Yuri said stubbornly. "I was heading home."

Hisakawa looked supremely unimpressed.

"They've all wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt," she went on, narrowing her eyes as she dismissed Yuri's excuse. "Even for this long. That you're in a funk, that life is terrible and you just want to be alone… they get that. They enable it. They forced me to enable it with them!"

Yuri glared at her, folding her arms tightly across her chest. Her eyes had been straying to the floor, to the windows, anywhere else, but they snapped back to meet Hisakawa's at the mention of enablement. Her jaw clenched in anger.

"But then we kept hearing about you and that Naoi kid—" Yuri soured some more—"and then joining drama club and hanging out with people at lunch like everything's great again."

Hisakawa began to raise her voice. She hadn't been hard to hear before, even from his hiding spot. Now her aggravated tone must've carried down a few hallways, and even to other floors. The footsteps of curious students echoed on the staircase.

"I guess life isn't your enemy anymore," said Hisakawa, standing taller. "Just us, right? Just me?"

Yuri flinched. "Look, Hisakawa—"

"Don't Hisakawa me!" she yelled, bristling through a growl. "This has gone on for way too long. We were your best friends, doesn't that mean anything to you?"

A handful of bystanders had arrived by this point. Many of them girls, they crowded around corners or stood blatantly in the halls to witness the spectacle. If anyone had noticed Ayato there as well, they were too busy whispering to each other to care.

"It's Hisakawa and Nakamura!"

"Chitose and Yuri?"

"They're actually talking to each other?"

"What's going on?"

But Yuri and Hisakawa didn't seem to hear them; if they did, they ignored their thin and transient audience. Now Yuri's hands were clenched into fists as she took a step away from the door.

"You were my best friend," she admitted coldly, "and you didn't even understand—"

"Understand what? Your whole guilt trip?" Hisakawa scoffed at her. "No, I didn't understand. I don't understand how you can still put this on either of us!" She threw her hands up in exasperation. "All I did was invite you to my fucking birthday party!"

"Just leave me the hell alone!" Yuri snarled. Her shoulders were hunched to her ears defensively and the detached glaze in her eyes was brighter than ever.

"No! I am so sick of sharing your blame!"

For quite a few students, anxiety overpowered curiosity and they discreetly rushed past in great fear. The rest disappeared into classrooms or took to the stairs, but peeked interestedly from windows and cracked doors or railings.

"So you went out and had fun without them, so your grandparents were wonderful people and wanted to take them to a nice restaurant instead." Hisakawa flung out her arms again, eyes wide with frustration. "Did we tell them to? Did we drive the car? Did we make all the ice and snow?"

Yuri looked more upset, stricken with an expression Ayato couldn't describe. As if she wanted to swing a fist, or run, or barricade herself in the club room. But she just stood there, frozen, taking it with little more than a petrified glower.

Them… Ice and snow…

He realized with a sick feeling in his chest – they were talking about her siblings.

"And you think—" Hisakawa cut herself off with a sharp sniff, a shaken breath. "You act like I didn't even care about them too. Like you've completely forgotten how much we wanted your brother to marry Satomi someday, just so we could finally be real sisters." Yuri's breath hitched as she pointedly averted her eyes. "You don't even stop to think that maybe you're not the only one who loved them—"

"Then why didn't you invite them," Yuri muttered coldly.

"YURI!" she hollered, gawping at her as she boiled with outraged disbelief. "You and I both agreed it was exclusively a gymnastics team sleepover!"

Yuri pursed her lips very thinly, shifting on her feet and looking cowed, while Hisakawa paced around the vicinity in a sort of riled distress.

"I remember when you wished I never even invited you in the first place," she said heatedly, her voice echoing against the walls. "But your grandparents still would've gone if you'd been home. They would've taken you with them in that car."

She whirled around and pointed a finger in Yuri's face, which had now twisted in anticipatory rage.

"I saved your life, Yuri. I saved you!"

Yuri smacked her hand away with a contemptuous cry. "Remember what happened the last time you said that to me?" she threatened, making a fist.

Hisakawa piqued an eyebrow at her.

"Go on, break my nose again," she said loftily. "It doesn't make it any less true. You scared us all so much when you kept acting like you wished you'd died in that car with them."

Ayato's fingers clutched the wall a bit more tightly.

"We cared, and you just – stopped. You blamed us and let your life implode." Hisakawa cocked her head at her. "Didn't you think for one second that maybe Shion and Ajisai would want—"

"You don't get to tell me what they would want!" Yuri snapped.

"They would want you to be happy!" Hisakawa argued, shrill and vehement in her words and movements. To Yuri's right, the club room door slid open a few centimeters, but both girls ignored it. "If you love someone and they love you, they'd want you to live your best life! You can live on, you can live for them, they'd never ask you to be miserable for them!"

Yuri stared at her balefully. "I'm not miserable," she said through clenched teeth.

"Then why are you still ignoring us?" Hisakawa demanded.

"I don't have anything to say to you."

Ayato frowned severely from his hiding spot, nails digging into the concrete. Hisakawa kept tearing into her like this; why wouldn't Yuri stand up for herself? Her muttered, short-winded sentences and snarls were so… spiritless. Where was her fire?

Hisakawa looked just as agitated, looming over Yuri with a withering look (he only just realized that the girl was a head taller than her).

"This grudge isn't just unhealthy, it's pathetic," she huffed. Edging back a step, she regarded Yuri with a dour grimace and a soft headshake. "You don't even care how I feel, do you? How you made all of us feel. We were your family too!"

The club door creaked briefly as if a movement had unsettled it. Hisakawa seemed to notice a round-eyed Ami peeping out at them at the same time Ayato did. She stared at the girl with mild curiosity, then turned her attention back to Yuri.

"Why bother having friends again?" Hisakawa said darkly, squinting at her with sad eyes. "You don't even know how to be one anymore!"

Yuri choked on an indignant gasp, curling a lip at her – no, was it trembling? She was trembling. Her shoulders had fallen like a lowered shield, and her clenched fists were shaking at her sides.

And Hisakawa, who didn't know when to quit, added with a pitying scowl: "You don't even remember how to be a sister."

Too far. Too goddamn far. The brokenness that crumpled Yuri's features was the final crack, like glass shattering in his head, and Ayato slammed his hand against the wall and barreled around the corner.

"That's enough, Hisakawa!" he shouted from the end of the hall.

Both girls' heads whipped around at his voice as he stormed towards them with purpose. Hisakawa blinked, mildly affected by the intrusion, while Yuri's green eyes grew wide with shock.

"Yuri doesn't owe you anything," he said firmly, coming up beside her. "For your information, she's still the best friend anyone could have on their side. She's steadfast and loyal, and the strongest person I know." Softening, his gaze fell on Yuri in that moment, and he laid a protective hand on her shoulder. Then his eyes narrowed as they fell back on Hisakawa. "You have no right to talk to her like that!"

Hisakawa pursed her lips at him, looking almost speculative.

"I don't know why you're defending her. From what I've heard, you two haven't spoken in weeks." Then she flashed a sort of sardonic smile with a slight head tilt of intrigue. "What'd you do? Ask her out while her parents were getting mugged?"

"I pushed her too hard," he told her, a confession mainly meant for Yuri. "As I imagine you did."

"All I did was try to bring her back to life," Hisakawa said defensively, crossing her arms at the both of them. "I didn't push her, she pushed me out, and I bet she pushed you out too. It's what she does!"

She turned a cold gaze to Yuri, vexation glowing through blue ice.

"Clinging to the past, suffering alone, throwing blame around? That's no way to live."

"Her life is her own business and none of yours!" Ayato snapped, pointing a warning finger at her. "She's living it as best she can, or didn't you see her up there on that stage?" Yuri's shoulder tensed under his grip; she side-eyed him in surprise. "You're the one clinging to the past if you can't even be happy for her! You've had your rant, now get the hell out of here."

Silence fell, although friction fogged the air in the hallway as Hisakawa studied the two of them for an everlasting moment. Ayato could hear, in those tense few seconds, the play's faint heartbeat sound in the back of his mind.

Then Hisakawa heaved a sigh, as if dealing with them had exhausted her.

"Whatever," she said. "Just get over yourself, Yuri."

She turned on her heel and headed down towards the hallway from which she had come. Her long hair followed her with a flourish, like some sort of billowing copper-colored cape, as she loped away in an affected haste.

Before she turned the corner, she yelled over her shoulder: "It wasn't your fault and it sure as hell wasn't mine!"

When she had gone, and her quick and angry footsteps got lost among all the other sounds, Ayato turned more fully to Yuri. She hadn't said a word this whole time. She was still just staring at the windows where Hisakawa had once stood. At the trees outside losing their leaves, and the blue-grey clouds billowing above the campus. Resting both hands on her shoulders, he gently turned Yuri to face him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Yuri looked up at him in disbelief, biting her lip as her emerald eyes glimmered too bright. Too bright against her pale, trembling skin. She opened her mouth to say something, but what came out instead was a strangled breath and a squeak that made his stomach sink. Wetness sparkled on her eyelashes as she choked on another sob. Ayato nearly reeled back in distress – it occurred to him that this was the first time he had ever truly seen Yuri cry.

The dam broke, and an alarming wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. He reached for her but she grabbed for him first. Burying her head in his chest, she clutched at the fabric of his shirt and began to sob. He embraced her, closing his eyes and resting his chin on her head as he stroked her hair. His heart ached at her cries, at the things he'd said all those weeks ago, at the overwhelming realization of how much he'd missed her.

And at her wails of "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" while he wondered to himself, if her desperate apologies were entirely directed at him.

Hearing her stubborn friend cry so earnestly tugged and prodded at Ami's heart. Thinking maybe Naoi could use her assistance, she tried to step out of the room – only to be halted by a hand on her shoulder. She glanced up in surprise to see Masuda standing over her with a solemn look in his golden eyes.

"I think they need to be alone," he said quietly.

Ami hesitated, hearing that trademark edge of wisdom in his tone. She stared out at the two for a second, giving the pair another good long look. Then she nodded in understanding.

The club room door rumbled closed.

A/N: Holy shit, this chapter. Finally.

Preview:

"I know a place."

"Sometimes I wonder if they ever felt left out."

"You didn't make them do anything."

"I couldn't deal with her."

"They were looking at you?"

"She's always been that strange."

"I liked his attention better."

"We had a deal, remember?"

"It's not enough."

"I can't believe you!"

[Chapter 31]: Eternities Still Unsaid.