Author's Notes: It's alive! Alive, I tell you, ALIVE!!! . . . I
should really just put this thing on hold again. Junior year of high
school sucks, people. There're too many damn tests to study for and I have
to worry about colleges. Ich.
Disclaimer: should be one in chapter one. If not: I own nada. Good enough?
Warnings: Eh, not really.
Enjoy!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chapter 7
"A whip, Makoto?"
The newly appointed Weiß assassin jumped from her place on Omi's bed, where she had been in the process of bandaging herself after a particularly grueling day of training. She had not yet chosen a weapon, nor had one chosen for her, and her instinct was to knock the intruder out first and ask questions later. Luckily for the person standing behind her, however, Makoto's training was in the process of teaching her a kind of patience that even most warriors didn't have. Her eyes widened when she realized exactly whom she'd been about to deck.
"Se . . . Setsuna!"
"Yes. Please, Makoto, sit down."
Immediately the younger girl took her place on the bed again. She gave a silent sigh of relief that the others had gone out on a mission she wasn't included in. Makoto knew what they were doing, of course, but had been allowed to sit out seeing as she didn't even have a weapon, much less enough training with one. Setsuna gave her fellow soldier a small smile, meant to be assuring.
"I'm not here to punish you, Makoto, so you can stop looking like you're about to be grounded," she said without preamble, "Please, just listen to me first."
Makoto nodded meekly, set into a more serious mood as she always was in the Setsuna's presence. There never was any time to be hot-tempered while with the Guardian of Time, if only because Makoto knew that it was a life-threatening event that drew her away from her Time Gates. Setsuna favored Makoto with another smile and settled down at the foot of Omi's bed so she could look the shorter girl in the eyes.
"I know what has happened to you. I know what it is you're doing here, why you're hurt now, and what you will eventually be forced to do. I know that you weren't given a choice about this and I want you to know that Neptune and I are proud of you for not giving away the other's identities. But there is no time for much talking, so I will be brief. It wouldn't do to have your friends walk in on us, would it?" a brief twinkle in the elder woman's eyes was Makoto's only clue to Setsuna's gentle teasing.
The solemn woman paused, choosing her words carefully. She was looking at Makoto as if meeting her for the first time or assessing her ability.
My ability to what, though? Makoto wondered, tensing when Setsuna began talking again.
"Makoto, the future is in danger again, but what kind of danger I don't know. Neither Neptune nor Uranus know either and the mirrors tell me nothing. But we three have the same feeling: you are involved, you are needed. That's why you're here."
"Did you know before it happened that this -- "
"Yes. And no one will shun you for it if you choose to tell them the story when this is all over, I give you that promise. The Dark Kingdom has allied themselves with equally dangerous humans. These are not the 'normal' people that they have been led to believe they are. They have their own form of power, though not quite like yours or mine, and twisted minds bent on power and immortality. That is why you must help Weiss put an end to this presented menace. If this warped immortality is achieved, the future we have worked for will be -- "
"Destroyed?"
"No. It will not be destroyed; it will freeze. Human kind will only be able to continue on so far under the guidance of these would-be rulers before everyone simply gives up on living."
Makoto's eyes widened impossibly. She was silent trying to wrap her mind around the concept of life coming to a screeching halt with no warning whatsoever. And if she failed as an assassin . . . it would be her fault. She clenched her fists in her lap, in the process ruining her half finished bandaging job, and shut her eyes.
"All right," she whispered, "I get it. I'll do this and I won't put the others or myself in danger because of regret or hate or something stupid like that. Setsuna, before you go, can you tell me one thing?"
"Perhaps."
"Omi. Is he . . . are we . . . related, in any way, shape, or form?" Makoto finally asked. True she had never gone on missions, but she hadn't stayed idle. She knew now that Omi was the son of Takatori Reiji, and she had often wondered if perhaps that man had ever had an affair with Manx (whom Makoto was, at this point, positive was her mother). It was logical that Manx might have joined with Kritiker to gain revenge on a man who had humiliated her.
"The young boy you mean?" Setsuna asked. "Why I should think so, you *are* both human. Oh, and Makoto?"
"Yes?"
"Use something practical, like jitte, when you fight. Please? For Haruka's sake? She'll come after you herself if she sees you with a whip."
Setsuna's parting words from three weeks ago still rang in Makoto's ears. It made her smile every time she thought of their talk. The mental image of a psychopathic Haruka coming after her with her Space Sword while chanting 'idiot!' was often enough to send Makoto into giggle fits. When she was alone, of course. It was also handy to keep her in good spirits during long days and nights of training and school. Her body was stronger than it had ever been without being transformed that she could remember. Yet she still hadn't received a mission. In some, okay, in *many* ways, Makoto was glad that she hadn't. She wasn't sure she was ready for it. But there was a small part of her that wanted to get used to the idea of missions and killing humans whom she had never heard of as opposed to youma who tried to attack her friends and adopted family.
Working in a flower shop was pretty much everything she thought it would have been. Makoto had always loved plants, ever since she could remember she'd always felt at home in gardens or parks or forests. From Ran . . .
Aya! His name is Aya now! she chided herself fiercely.
From Aya she had learned the language of flowers for flower arrangements from the Victorian books and pretty soon the collection of teenaged girls got used to her presence in the shop. Makoto smirked devilishly to her newest arrangement. And to think that all it had taken was a bit of water from a hose that had "slipped" from her grasp.
"Mako-chan."
The girl looked up and gave Omi a smile. Since their talk, she'd opened as much to Ken and Omi as she dared. Youji she was wary of; something about him warned her away from trying to get too close to him until . . . until he was ready for it, Makoto had finally decided.
"What is it, Omi-san?"
"Here. Aya-kun made coffee. It's almost closing time."
"Is it?" Makoto asked, looking at the clock mounted on the wall. It was indeed the time to close up the shop and wait for Manx to appear. She scrubbed at her eyes with her blouse sleeve and accepted the mug Omi held out to her.
"Thank you."
"Welcome."
Sipping at the hot coffee (light with three sugars . . . so Aya had remembered), the girl allowed herself to watch her fellow teammates. All were busy, except her, taking care of their various jobs. There was now a "free" slot to go with the chores, and today happened to be her "free" day.
Makoto tensed and her eyes widened slightly as three raps, one clipped and two more leisurely delivered, sounded on the metal covering of Koneko no Sumu Ie. She knew enough after three weeks of intense training that this series of knocks meant that Manx was behind the metal and had a mission for them. The kids who frequented the shop, still mostly girls although there was a larger smattering of boys due to her own presence, had all gone home for dinner and school work and the sky was darkening with the coming of night. Omi gave Makoto a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder as Ken bent to open the shutter for Manx. She gave him a grateful smile in return, but it did nothing to put her at ease.
This was to be her first mission.
No! she cried mentally. I'm not ready for this! I can't!
But Manx stepped into the flower shop and held up the videocassette despite Makoto's mental denial. Nothing was said as the six trooped down to the mission room, and if anyone noticed Makoto keeping herself between Omi and Ken as much as possible, no one said anything. Was it her imagination, though, or was Manx keeping a closer eye on her than normal? As the other members of Weiß settled themselves round the dark room, Makoto stayed nearest to Omi. Out of all four, even Aya, she felt most at ease with him. Whether that was because of their close ages or something else she didn't quite know, and didn't care. When Persia's shadowed figure came on the screen she let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
" Weiß," said his deep tenor. An image of a tall, thin, and balding man with a face that looked shrunken with age flashed on the screen. He wore a business suit that was impeccably clean. Makoto hissed and her eyes flashed angrily. Standing to the right and slightly behind the man stood a youma.
"Yes, Makoto, that is right. This man is Chitose Sata, and he is one of Takatori Reiji's main financial backers. The woman with him is unknown, but distinctly not human. We believe her to be a youma from the Dark Kingdom."
"But she looks human," said Omi, "How can we be sure she's not."
"Oh, she's not. That, Omi-san," here Makoto's voice adopted somewhat of a mocking tone, "is Shizu of the third rank in the army of the Dark Kingdom. I remember her; she never shut up."
Ken gave a wry grin, "Well, we'll just have to bring ear plugs."
"Recently it has been noted that young boys and girls, between the ages of five and ten and the children of families working for Chitose, have been falling into comas, drained of their energy."
"Sounds familiar," Makoto muttered.
"It is unknown whether these children will survive or what their energy is being used for, but we believe it has to do with the making of some kind of weapon. This scheme must be ended! White hunters in the night, hunt the dark beasts of tomorrow!"
The screen winked to black and Manx flicked the lights on. Makoto mentally cheered with relief. The dark mission room brought back way too many bad memories, and though she had learned to cope and not let them affect her, it was nicer not have to deal with them at all. Manx stood in front of the TV now, and Makoto realized with a start that the red haired woman was staring at her.
"What?"
"You know this youma."
"Yes."
"Then you deal with her."
"Fine."
Omi and Ken glanced at each other, surprised by Makoto's easy acceptance of the mission. Closer inspection of the girl revealed that she seemed just as surprised as they. And further inspection of Aya and Youji revealed nothing. Omi sighed mentally; he hadn't thought it would, anyway.
"There's one thing I don't understand, though," Ken said suddenly. "Why do they need energy?"
"When we dealt with the Dark Kingdom last time, they were using the energy to bring back Queen Metallica, who has lost her physical form, I guess, during the Last Battle. Maybe now they're using it to try to bring back Queen Beryl, who was the resident leader at the time. Metallica was destroyed completely." Makoto shrugged.
Manx nodded her acknowledgement of the reply before turning to Ken. "Quite frankly, we don't know. These are new and strange beings to us and we don't yet know how to penetrate their headquarters. We don't know if they have a headquarters, and we don't know what they can do or know about us. Simply put: it's not worth the risk."
"So we're going in to make it worth the risk?" Youji asked, irreverent as always. He gave Manx a lazy smile.
"Something like that," the red haired woman agreed. "So I take it you're all in?"
There was a chorus of shrugs and nods from the five members of Weiss. And so it was decided; they would all participate. Aya was up and out of the mission room silently and quickly. Youji followed close behind him, but Makoto waited until Ken and Omi were ready to leave. Even now she didn't relish the thought of giving up her sense of security, however false it was, by breaking away from them. Omi gave her a kind and reassuring smile and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"It'll be all right, Mako-chan."
"He's right," Ken added, "you know how to use those jitte you picked out like you were born with them. Plus you've got powers that we don't. You'll do fine."
"Thanks . . . I think. Though I'm not sure if I should be reassured knowing that I'll be able to kill a person like it's an everyday thing."
"Mako-chan," said Omi, suddenly sharp voiced and irritated. "Get over it. Here, answer this: why can you kill youma without a second thought?"
Makoto was silent as she thought about her answer. She had never been asked this particular question before, had never thought about her reasons and justifications for killing the youma of the Dark Kingdom. She had only ever been told that they were evil, and so had never stopped to ask if maybe they married and had children, if they were mothers, fathers, brothers, or sisters. She had never allowed herself to. She, Ken and Omi were out of the dark stairs that led down to the mission room and were walking through the brightly-lit living room.
"I can because . . . because they hurt people. They hurt people I care for and love."
"So do these men and women," Youji said. Makoto nearly jumped three feet in the air, but found herself able to refrain from crying out in surprise. Ken nodded in approval of her quick recovery. The blond man turned to face the three, who were standing behind the couch he sat on. He pinned Makoto with his intense stare as he continued.
"They rip apart families, they ruin innocent lives in consequence of their actions. Some get rich off their actions. Others don't, but the damage they leave behind is often irreparable. They could be holding your friends or family in their grasp and you don't even know it. They could be hurting those you care about and love. So what's the difference?" asked Youji.
Youji and Omi watched her intently, so there was no way to not answer. Gathering up everything she had ever learned about speech, Makoto prepared her response.
"There isn't."
Silence. Makoto's eyes were as wide as was physically possible but she didn't see the living room or her three teammates. That wasn't what she'd meant to say! She'd meant to list every single difference between the two cases that she could think of, and for a while she had had a very long list. But now . . .
He's right. There is no difference. I'm just being selfish, I'm just thinking of myself and my own situation and my own . . . morals, if I can even call them that anymore. And if my actions let one of them get hurt tonight . . .
She was vaguely aware of something stinging her eyes, which she closed tightly before turning her back on Youji. She kept them that way so she didn't have to look into his eyes, eyes that held as much pain as hers.
"I'm sorry," Makoto whispered.
And she walked as quickly as she dared without running to her room.
~Owari, chapter 7~
NYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! It's done, chapter seven is done I tell you, DONE!!!
*runs off laughing insanely*
Okay, yeah, kinda strange, *shrugs* what can ya do?
Disclaimer: should be one in chapter one. If not: I own nada. Good enough?
Warnings: Eh, not really.
Enjoy!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chapter 7
"A whip, Makoto?"
The newly appointed Weiß assassin jumped from her place on Omi's bed, where she had been in the process of bandaging herself after a particularly grueling day of training. She had not yet chosen a weapon, nor had one chosen for her, and her instinct was to knock the intruder out first and ask questions later. Luckily for the person standing behind her, however, Makoto's training was in the process of teaching her a kind of patience that even most warriors didn't have. Her eyes widened when she realized exactly whom she'd been about to deck.
"Se . . . Setsuna!"
"Yes. Please, Makoto, sit down."
Immediately the younger girl took her place on the bed again. She gave a silent sigh of relief that the others had gone out on a mission she wasn't included in. Makoto knew what they were doing, of course, but had been allowed to sit out seeing as she didn't even have a weapon, much less enough training with one. Setsuna gave her fellow soldier a small smile, meant to be assuring.
"I'm not here to punish you, Makoto, so you can stop looking like you're about to be grounded," she said without preamble, "Please, just listen to me first."
Makoto nodded meekly, set into a more serious mood as she always was in the Setsuna's presence. There never was any time to be hot-tempered while with the Guardian of Time, if only because Makoto knew that it was a life-threatening event that drew her away from her Time Gates. Setsuna favored Makoto with another smile and settled down at the foot of Omi's bed so she could look the shorter girl in the eyes.
"I know what has happened to you. I know what it is you're doing here, why you're hurt now, and what you will eventually be forced to do. I know that you weren't given a choice about this and I want you to know that Neptune and I are proud of you for not giving away the other's identities. But there is no time for much talking, so I will be brief. It wouldn't do to have your friends walk in on us, would it?" a brief twinkle in the elder woman's eyes was Makoto's only clue to Setsuna's gentle teasing.
The solemn woman paused, choosing her words carefully. She was looking at Makoto as if meeting her for the first time or assessing her ability.
My ability to what, though? Makoto wondered, tensing when Setsuna began talking again.
"Makoto, the future is in danger again, but what kind of danger I don't know. Neither Neptune nor Uranus know either and the mirrors tell me nothing. But we three have the same feeling: you are involved, you are needed. That's why you're here."
"Did you know before it happened that this -- "
"Yes. And no one will shun you for it if you choose to tell them the story when this is all over, I give you that promise. The Dark Kingdom has allied themselves with equally dangerous humans. These are not the 'normal' people that they have been led to believe they are. They have their own form of power, though not quite like yours or mine, and twisted minds bent on power and immortality. That is why you must help Weiss put an end to this presented menace. If this warped immortality is achieved, the future we have worked for will be -- "
"Destroyed?"
"No. It will not be destroyed; it will freeze. Human kind will only be able to continue on so far under the guidance of these would-be rulers before everyone simply gives up on living."
Makoto's eyes widened impossibly. She was silent trying to wrap her mind around the concept of life coming to a screeching halt with no warning whatsoever. And if she failed as an assassin . . . it would be her fault. She clenched her fists in her lap, in the process ruining her half finished bandaging job, and shut her eyes.
"All right," she whispered, "I get it. I'll do this and I won't put the others or myself in danger because of regret or hate or something stupid like that. Setsuna, before you go, can you tell me one thing?"
"Perhaps."
"Omi. Is he . . . are we . . . related, in any way, shape, or form?" Makoto finally asked. True she had never gone on missions, but she hadn't stayed idle. She knew now that Omi was the son of Takatori Reiji, and she had often wondered if perhaps that man had ever had an affair with Manx (whom Makoto was, at this point, positive was her mother). It was logical that Manx might have joined with Kritiker to gain revenge on a man who had humiliated her.
"The young boy you mean?" Setsuna asked. "Why I should think so, you *are* both human. Oh, and Makoto?"
"Yes?"
"Use something practical, like jitte, when you fight. Please? For Haruka's sake? She'll come after you herself if she sees you with a whip."
Setsuna's parting words from three weeks ago still rang in Makoto's ears. It made her smile every time she thought of their talk. The mental image of a psychopathic Haruka coming after her with her Space Sword while chanting 'idiot!' was often enough to send Makoto into giggle fits. When she was alone, of course. It was also handy to keep her in good spirits during long days and nights of training and school. Her body was stronger than it had ever been without being transformed that she could remember. Yet she still hadn't received a mission. In some, okay, in *many* ways, Makoto was glad that she hadn't. She wasn't sure she was ready for it. But there was a small part of her that wanted to get used to the idea of missions and killing humans whom she had never heard of as opposed to youma who tried to attack her friends and adopted family.
Working in a flower shop was pretty much everything she thought it would have been. Makoto had always loved plants, ever since she could remember she'd always felt at home in gardens or parks or forests. From Ran . . .
Aya! His name is Aya now! she chided herself fiercely.
From Aya she had learned the language of flowers for flower arrangements from the Victorian books and pretty soon the collection of teenaged girls got used to her presence in the shop. Makoto smirked devilishly to her newest arrangement. And to think that all it had taken was a bit of water from a hose that had "slipped" from her grasp.
"Mako-chan."
The girl looked up and gave Omi a smile. Since their talk, she'd opened as much to Ken and Omi as she dared. Youji she was wary of; something about him warned her away from trying to get too close to him until . . . until he was ready for it, Makoto had finally decided.
"What is it, Omi-san?"
"Here. Aya-kun made coffee. It's almost closing time."
"Is it?" Makoto asked, looking at the clock mounted on the wall. It was indeed the time to close up the shop and wait for Manx to appear. She scrubbed at her eyes with her blouse sleeve and accepted the mug Omi held out to her.
"Thank you."
"Welcome."
Sipping at the hot coffee (light with three sugars . . . so Aya had remembered), the girl allowed herself to watch her fellow teammates. All were busy, except her, taking care of their various jobs. There was now a "free" slot to go with the chores, and today happened to be her "free" day.
Makoto tensed and her eyes widened slightly as three raps, one clipped and two more leisurely delivered, sounded on the metal covering of Koneko no Sumu Ie. She knew enough after three weeks of intense training that this series of knocks meant that Manx was behind the metal and had a mission for them. The kids who frequented the shop, still mostly girls although there was a larger smattering of boys due to her own presence, had all gone home for dinner and school work and the sky was darkening with the coming of night. Omi gave Makoto a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder as Ken bent to open the shutter for Manx. She gave him a grateful smile in return, but it did nothing to put her at ease.
This was to be her first mission.
No! she cried mentally. I'm not ready for this! I can't!
But Manx stepped into the flower shop and held up the videocassette despite Makoto's mental denial. Nothing was said as the six trooped down to the mission room, and if anyone noticed Makoto keeping herself between Omi and Ken as much as possible, no one said anything. Was it her imagination, though, or was Manx keeping a closer eye on her than normal? As the other members of Weiß settled themselves round the dark room, Makoto stayed nearest to Omi. Out of all four, even Aya, she felt most at ease with him. Whether that was because of their close ages or something else she didn't quite know, and didn't care. When Persia's shadowed figure came on the screen she let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
" Weiß," said his deep tenor. An image of a tall, thin, and balding man with a face that looked shrunken with age flashed on the screen. He wore a business suit that was impeccably clean. Makoto hissed and her eyes flashed angrily. Standing to the right and slightly behind the man stood a youma.
"Yes, Makoto, that is right. This man is Chitose Sata, and he is one of Takatori Reiji's main financial backers. The woman with him is unknown, but distinctly not human. We believe her to be a youma from the Dark Kingdom."
"But she looks human," said Omi, "How can we be sure she's not."
"Oh, she's not. That, Omi-san," here Makoto's voice adopted somewhat of a mocking tone, "is Shizu of the third rank in the army of the Dark Kingdom. I remember her; she never shut up."
Ken gave a wry grin, "Well, we'll just have to bring ear plugs."
"Recently it has been noted that young boys and girls, between the ages of five and ten and the children of families working for Chitose, have been falling into comas, drained of their energy."
"Sounds familiar," Makoto muttered.
"It is unknown whether these children will survive or what their energy is being used for, but we believe it has to do with the making of some kind of weapon. This scheme must be ended! White hunters in the night, hunt the dark beasts of tomorrow!"
The screen winked to black and Manx flicked the lights on. Makoto mentally cheered with relief. The dark mission room brought back way too many bad memories, and though she had learned to cope and not let them affect her, it was nicer not have to deal with them at all. Manx stood in front of the TV now, and Makoto realized with a start that the red haired woman was staring at her.
"What?"
"You know this youma."
"Yes."
"Then you deal with her."
"Fine."
Omi and Ken glanced at each other, surprised by Makoto's easy acceptance of the mission. Closer inspection of the girl revealed that she seemed just as surprised as they. And further inspection of Aya and Youji revealed nothing. Omi sighed mentally; he hadn't thought it would, anyway.
"There's one thing I don't understand, though," Ken said suddenly. "Why do they need energy?"
"When we dealt with the Dark Kingdom last time, they were using the energy to bring back Queen Metallica, who has lost her physical form, I guess, during the Last Battle. Maybe now they're using it to try to bring back Queen Beryl, who was the resident leader at the time. Metallica was destroyed completely." Makoto shrugged.
Manx nodded her acknowledgement of the reply before turning to Ken. "Quite frankly, we don't know. These are new and strange beings to us and we don't yet know how to penetrate their headquarters. We don't know if they have a headquarters, and we don't know what they can do or know about us. Simply put: it's not worth the risk."
"So we're going in to make it worth the risk?" Youji asked, irreverent as always. He gave Manx a lazy smile.
"Something like that," the red haired woman agreed. "So I take it you're all in?"
There was a chorus of shrugs and nods from the five members of Weiss. And so it was decided; they would all participate. Aya was up and out of the mission room silently and quickly. Youji followed close behind him, but Makoto waited until Ken and Omi were ready to leave. Even now she didn't relish the thought of giving up her sense of security, however false it was, by breaking away from them. Omi gave her a kind and reassuring smile and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"It'll be all right, Mako-chan."
"He's right," Ken added, "you know how to use those jitte you picked out like you were born with them. Plus you've got powers that we don't. You'll do fine."
"Thanks . . . I think. Though I'm not sure if I should be reassured knowing that I'll be able to kill a person like it's an everyday thing."
"Mako-chan," said Omi, suddenly sharp voiced and irritated. "Get over it. Here, answer this: why can you kill youma without a second thought?"
Makoto was silent as she thought about her answer. She had never been asked this particular question before, had never thought about her reasons and justifications for killing the youma of the Dark Kingdom. She had only ever been told that they were evil, and so had never stopped to ask if maybe they married and had children, if they were mothers, fathers, brothers, or sisters. She had never allowed herself to. She, Ken and Omi were out of the dark stairs that led down to the mission room and were walking through the brightly-lit living room.
"I can because . . . because they hurt people. They hurt people I care for and love."
"So do these men and women," Youji said. Makoto nearly jumped three feet in the air, but found herself able to refrain from crying out in surprise. Ken nodded in approval of her quick recovery. The blond man turned to face the three, who were standing behind the couch he sat on. He pinned Makoto with his intense stare as he continued.
"They rip apart families, they ruin innocent lives in consequence of their actions. Some get rich off their actions. Others don't, but the damage they leave behind is often irreparable. They could be holding your friends or family in their grasp and you don't even know it. They could be hurting those you care about and love. So what's the difference?" asked Youji.
Youji and Omi watched her intently, so there was no way to not answer. Gathering up everything she had ever learned about speech, Makoto prepared her response.
"There isn't."
Silence. Makoto's eyes were as wide as was physically possible but she didn't see the living room or her three teammates. That wasn't what she'd meant to say! She'd meant to list every single difference between the two cases that she could think of, and for a while she had had a very long list. But now . . .
He's right. There is no difference. I'm just being selfish, I'm just thinking of myself and my own situation and my own . . . morals, if I can even call them that anymore. And if my actions let one of them get hurt tonight . . .
She was vaguely aware of something stinging her eyes, which she closed tightly before turning her back on Youji. She kept them that way so she didn't have to look into his eyes, eyes that held as much pain as hers.
"I'm sorry," Makoto whispered.
And she walked as quickly as she dared without running to her room.
~Owari, chapter 7~
NYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! It's done, chapter seven is done I tell you, DONE!!!
*runs off laughing insanely*
Okay, yeah, kinda strange, *shrugs* what can ya do?