Days seemed like hours after that. I wasn't able to differ one day from the next; and I could've been mistakened weeks with days easily. I honestly hadn't a clue what was going around me. All I heard were murmurs of loved ones around my bed at times, with concerned tones to their usual singsong voices. I was much too exhausted to even flutter my eyelids open when I heard them, and I usually fell back into my slumber. Many a time did I hear sweet Usa's voice; close to me. Her lips brushed my forehead on several occassions, as I wanted to smile, but didn't have the strength to. Ami's sounds were scribbles and scratches on paper, and I recognized them easily through my few moments of consciousness. She was obviously studying by my side, and it meant a lot to me. I presumed she slept by my side as well. Rei had said nothing during the rare time I was able to distinguish voices and sounds. Oddly enough, however, I sensed her presense. I didn't need to hear her voice to know she was there, I just felt it. Makoto was there as well, though there was still that part of me that despised her at the moment. She didn't speak either, but I felt her teardrops sometimes land on my hand, then quickly swiped away by her soft hands. More than anything I wanted to wake, but, as useless as I was, I didn't.

Apparently it was about a week until I gained full consciousness. It wasn't any of my close friends that were by my side when I awoke, but rather, it was Michiru. It took me by surprise, though she smiled a warm grin as she noticed my eyelids opening.

"My, how I've wanted to see those beautiful pair of eyes once again," she softly said, bringing her chair closer to me.

I was fully awake by that time, and I didn't even attempt to sit upright, I simply remained lying down. "Michiru-san.."

"Hush, little one, you're exhausted," she replied, as she caressed my cheek. "You've had a rough time, now haven't you?"

I nodded quitely and slowly.

She chuckled, and folded her hands on her lap. "I've been drawing you, you know."

My eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

"Hai," she whispered. She propped up the sketch book she had on her lap to show me her picture. It was me, surely enough, sleeping peacefully. There were no colours, but rather it was only shaded in black and white. "This is only one of the many I drew," she added.

"Can I see the others?" I inquired, curious to see her incredible artwork.

Michiru flipped over the page, displaying a beautiful, colourful portrait of me, my hair in the wind, and my eyes vibrant and blue. She flipped the page again, showing me one staring down at my hands, this one half coloured, and half black and white. "Why are some coloured, and some not?" I asked.

Michiru closed the book quietly, and stared into my eyes. "The coloured ones were to demonstrate the happiness and sincerity you had. The black and white ones were when you became dull and fake."

Those word stung, and I felt my eyes water, but I made sure not to let them show. "I see," I replied, and turned over to my side.

"Minako," Michiru started, as she cleared her throat, "I know what you're going through because I went through it myself." She paused, as I turned back to face her, intrigued by what she just said. "I was about your age, only a couple years ago. I was to showcase my art, and to play my violin. I just met Haruka too," she added, and winked. "There was so much pressure on me, and stress as well. I couldn't handle it, and the only solution that came to me was my appearance. For some strange reason, I thought that people might reject my artwork, and my music if they didn't like the artist and musician." She bowed her head to her lap, almost ashamed to talk about it. "Throwing up after meals, striving to become the girl with the perfect body, anything and everything.. I wanted to become. Haruka stopped me just in time before I could make any more mistakes, or do anything more drastic. I recovered over time, though it took a while." She raised her eyes back to mine once more. "It hurts, doesn't it?"

I nodded, relieved that there was someone who understood me. "Sometimes you can't be perfect, Minako. Everyone has their faults, and no one will ever be perfect. You must accept yourself for who you are, or you'll never live. If you keep on doing what you're doing now, you're going to find yourself one day, crippled and worn, sobbing that you lost the only thing you strived for your whole life: your beauty."

Hot, wet tears started to drip down my cheeks carefully, as I couldn't hold them in any longer.

"You have so much more, Minako," Michiru smiled, and brushed away my tears. "Don't throw it away."

Michiru stood up from her chair, and picked up her sketch book. She started to leave the room, and stood at the doorway for a quick second. She left without a moment's notice, closing the door behind her quietly.

There was so much to think about, now that I was awake and able to think properly. My mind wandered to several different places, as I realized that the time was about midnight. Thinking it was odd that Michiru visited at such a late time, a book caught my attention near my bed. It was that thing that Makoto left behind after the fight. Curious, I bent over to see what she had dileberately left. I placed it on my lap, as I opened up the cover. Once again, tears stained my cheeks, as a lump in my throat formed. Flipping through the pages slowly, the tears didn't stop, and they flowed more freely. Oh, Makoto.. I lay down, feeling a little sleepy, clutching the present close to my heart. An album full of memories.. Darkness blanketed me. However, it wasn't an enemy as I had always felt in the past, but rather, a new friend. Many hard days were going to be presented to me, I just know it. And it'll take strength and perserverance to survive. I'll be able to make it. I know I can. With my determination, love, and these grateful reflections of me that stares back through these photos.

THE END