Disclaimer: uhm…nope. Still don't own it. And I doubt I would in the chapters to come

Warnings: twist to the plot (well, I hope you can call it that), bad writing…the usual

Notes: Ahahahaha!!! I have a title! Since I actually know how this story'll go, I decided on a title…cute, huh?

Harle…you don't hate it…a lot? so does that mean you hate it a bit? THF, well…you got your wish! Sweet?! It is? Really…Panatlantic, can I just say I love you now? Hehe…ya don't hate it, huh? Good, good.

Hookay…part two, comin' up!

Part Two: Miwasureru

I woke up to the smell of breakfast.

Ehh? What the…oh.

Now, being alone in the house for more than seventy years, the thought of waking up to the smell of brewing coffee and eggs on the stove never really occurred to me. It's a good feeling, now that I think I about it.

Stretching a bit, I lift my knuckles up to my eyes and rubbed all the residual sleep away. Well, at least I lost that stupid crick yesterday after the shower. Throwing on a random shirt and picking up my robe, I walk out to the kitchen to find Hisoka humming softly to himself while setting the table. He immediately stopped the moment he felt my presence in the room.

Ah…gotcha.

"Ohayo! Hmm…that smells wonderful!"

No response. He just walked over to the toaster and took out the…toast. Shinigamis are well-provided for around here. I mean, given our less than generous salary, and my apparent obsession with sweets—hey, they may think it's too much, but I don't—I still exist quite comfortably. My house is well furnished, I still eat more than three times a day, and I never miss dessert! But then again, all the apartment units this side of Meifu are pre-furnished, courtesy of the Count so I didn't have much to worry about that in the first place.

"…or what?"

Oops. "Huh?"

Hisoka sighed, "I said, are you going to have breakfast or what? Are you okay?"

I gave him my 10,000-megawatt smile and sat myself on the table, "Yeppers! Just…morning, you know?"

He left a little after breakfast after making sure that I'd be able to live until he returns this afternoon. I sighed and groaned inwardly while he carefully hid all sharp and pointy objects—including the pens!—and slipped all my match supply in his bag. He even replaced the sheets with ultra soft ones to make sure I don't use it to strangle myself or something. If he had the slightest idea on how to seal Touda so I can't call him, he will.

Sheesh. Paranoid today, aren't we?

I mean, it's cool that they're so concerned about me and all, but they didn't have to be so goddamn smothering!

Aaahhhh…did I just swear? I did, didn't I? All this isolation really makes me claustrophobic. I know Hisoka just left, but I'm not used to being along this much. Not since…since…

That's it. I'm going out.

~*~

Tokyo has got to be the best place around. All the buildings, the people, the color. The food. I've been walking around all morning, drooling like a crazed dog while my conscience was wildly pulling me back to Meifu. Maybe I should go back. After all, Hisoka did tell me not to leave the house until he comes back.

Oh, screw you, conscience. I'm getting myself a cake.

Ah, there I go swearing again. Really, just a little dose of Muraki is all you need to turn bad. Not that I'm saying that people who swear are automatically bad…1

It's noon by now, I reckon. Mostly, it's because of the sun frying me to the ground in its intensity. Well, that and the fact that I'm almost ready to faint from hunger.

Now, I don't usually consider walking under the blistering sun as one of my favorite pastimes, so I totally put all the blame to this place. This gorgeous, foodshop-filled place that makes me endure the heat just because I can't choose the most appropriate place for dessert.

Normally, I would've gone in the first place I can find, but since I'm technically not on duty, therefore didn't have funds from Tatsumi, I have to choose carefully.

Finally, after two hours of carefully scouting the perimeter for the perfect pastry shop, my eyes land on one. It's perfect. I can feel my heart beating faster just looking at it. Even the name makes my mouth water.

Coffee Indulgence.2

It took me tremendous amounts of restraint to keep from ignoring the traffic light and just crossing the road which hinders me from my passion. The very second the pedestrian light turned to that green walking amn, I crossed the street, almost shaking from excitement.

Cake. Cake. Cake. Cakecakecakecakecake…

And then I stop.

No. No…no…

Long, white trench coat, like that of an angel. Silver hair.

Noises. From the periphery of my consciousness, I can hear noises. Are those cars or people? I'm not sure.

I'm shaking. Gods, I'm shaking, aren't I?

Get out of here! Walk away and get the hell out of this place!

But…but I can't…I think I'm frozen.

Idiot, move! You're gonna die! He's gonna…

I know! I know! I…just can't…I…

He'll know you're here! He can feel you! All he has to do is turn around and…

I…I…

~*~

"He…he's awake! Kaasan, he's awake!"

blue. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a splotch of blue over orange. Or…is that the other way around? I'm not sure.

There are voices from my…side. Not sure which, though. Maybe both.

"Oh, thank God! Hokou, hurry! Get a glass of water and a damp cloth!"

Still fixed in the same position, but I can hear shifting from one side. Ah…there. It's from the left side. I can also hear a voice. A woman's. That's from the right. Slowly, I turn my head—hurts a bit but I can manage—to the direction of the voice and was met by a—what's the word?—beautiful face, framed in a shock of bright purple hair. Purple eyes focused on me.

And then she smiled.

"Hi."

I opened my mouth to speak, but found that it's apparently superglued shut. So, I just manage a small smile. Ouch. Even that hurt.

"Here." Another voice. Younger this time. I'm not sure if it's a girl or boy, though because it sounds too young to identify.

The girl reached across from me to the other side, the sleeves of her flowing light brown blouse brushing slightly against my face. Her hands reemerged with a glass and a face towel. The next thing I know, the glass was gently shoved to my mouth and the towel was used to wipe my face.

Slowly, I drank the cool liquid—ah, so I can actually open my mouth—and realized how dry my throut had been based from the burning sensation the mere act of swallowing brought about.

After I downed all the contents of the glass, she finished wiping my face and pulled up a chair. Another person, a little boy, trotted to her and climbed on her lap. They smiled at me for a while, which succeeded in creeping the hell out of me instead of their intended goal, which I assumed was to make me feel comfortable.

Anyway, I smiled back at them.

We smiled at each other.

Insert crickets chirping.

Finally, she drew a deep breath and decided to attack—hypothetically, "I'm Kourin and this is my son Hokou. Do you have a name?"

I exhaled. Nothing harmless.

What's your name?

Just a name. It's just a name.

I smile at her.

What's my name? No harm in telling her that.

Still smiling at her, I open my mouth, but closed it back right away.

She frowned, "Something wrong?"

I shake my head no.

She nodded, then smiled expectantly.

…

Wait.

What is my name?

1. I swear like a sailor so I have to amend that little statement, right? ^_~

2. This is a small coffee shop beside my school and boy, do they have killer coffee!

AN: Dundunduuuuuuuuunnnn…Tsuzuki forgot his name. What's going on? Will he remember it anytime soon? Is he in Meifu? Where is Hisoka? What the hell is Nuriko doing here? Ahh…betcha didn't realize that, didja? Ehehehehe *dances around thinking she's so smart*