It's late. Nearly midnight. Laura has just come out of the shower. She's sunk down on the orange couch (dubbed "the pee couch" by Random and myself), running a comb through her hair. Van's already asleep, curled up on his side on one of the bunks, his hair falling softly across his face.

Where, I wonder, is Miroku? It's not like him to just disappear without telling me. "Laura, have you seen Miroku? I don't know where he is." I must be desperate to find him if I'm asking her baka-ness.

"He went outside a while ago. I dunno where he is now." She responds lazily. The TV is on and she's got "Crossroads" playing on the VCR. I hate that movie almost as much as I hate Brittney Spears, but she's totally engrossed in it.

"I'll be back." I don't think she even hears me as I breeze out the door. It's chilly out and I pull my "class of '03" long-sleeved tee-shirt on as I step onto the porch.

Out here, it's lit only by moonlight and I can see the silhouette of a person sitting in the little field. That must be Miroku over there.

I step softly off the porch ramp. He's all alone and I wonder what he's thinking about. His hand bothers him and I know he worries about it.

"It will kill me, you know." He says quietly. He doesn't even look up; his back is to me.

"I know."

"It gets bigger every year...It will destroy me someday."

"I know."

"Sit by me."

I sit. The grass is slightly damp from the evening's dew and the air is growing increasingly chilly. I wait. He'll say something more and I know it.

"Do you know what it's like to know you're going to die?"

"No. I can't say that I do, Miroku."

"it's scary until you except it...I haven't quite accepted it yet. My life can't nearly be over; I have scarcely begun to live."

"Miroku..." What do you say to some one who speaks of their own death? I'm speechless.

He looks at me through the moonlight. "What's your real name?"

"My real name? Michelle. I was named after a song."

"Really? How does it go?"

"I don't even know any more...I haven't heard it since I was little."

"You still are little."

"I'm only a year younger than you."

"Yes, but your life is nowhere near over." He pauses, "What do you think of when you see the stars?"

"I think how small I am. How I am not so important as I may think. How nothing I do matters to the world, but somewhere out there, is some one to whom it matters. I don't wish to change the world. I wish to change myself." I blush. What I just said must have made absolutely no sense.

He nods. "We are all very small and insignificant if you think of the vastness of the universe." He looks back up at the sky. "People can change the world if they wish. But I agree with you. If every one changed only themself, the world would need no alterations."

I shiver a little. For July, it's pretty chilly.

"Are you cold?" He moves a little closer to me. This is it...It's been two days since he's made a move and I know something is coming.

I wait. And he proves me wrong. Nothing happens; we just sit side by side, getting warmth from one another. I'm surprised. But then, maybe I shouldn't be. I'm not especially pretty.

"Miroku?" I am compelled to ask him this, "Do you like me?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"...I'm not pretty."

"And?"

"..." And? And?! He likes girls who are beautiful, not plain, worthless people like me. That's why he hasn't touched me. That's why he hasn't asked me. I'm not pretty enough.

"Michelle...Does that bother you, not knowing how beautiful you really are?" He looks at me through the moonlight, "Does it hurt you?"

"All the time..." My voice is a whisper, "You don't know what it's like to be ugly."

What he says next is the nicest thing I've heard in a long time. "You don't either."

"Miroku..." I smile and look at my hands. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

We sit silently looking up at the sky for a while. I yawn.

"You tired?" He asks softly.

"A little." Another yawn.

"Go to bed."

"I don't want to leave you out here alone..." I tell him. Especially not since you seem so serious and sad...

"Michelle..." His arm is around my shoulder, "...Do you like me?"

Do I like him? Do I like him? More than life itself! But can I say that? No... "Of course I like you, Miroku." What's not to like?

"Why?" Our heads are rested together at this point. He seems so unlike himself, so serious, so troubled. I don't think I'd ever expect his confidence to waver so. He's doubting his own worth.

"You make me laugh. You're caring. You're compassionate. Most of all, because you aren't afraid to be you."

He falls silent and we sit there lost in the stillness for a while. Time slips away and I know not how long we've been there. I grow even more sleepy as time passes. He's tired too. I can tell because his breathing becomes deep and shallow.

The next thing I know, it's morning. We're curled up on the damp grass together and the sun is beginning to crest over the hill. I look at my watch. Seven o'clock. We fell asleep in one another's arms. He looks so vulnerable, not like the man I know him to be. He's hardly more than a child, only a year older than me.

Instead of pulling away from him, I lay here watching him sleep. Poor boy, he seems to want nothing more than love. I guess when you know you will die, you need to know you're needed.

"Oh MY GOD!" Laura no Baka would have to ruin it. She's appeared on the porch and has spotted us there together, "I'm telling!"

He opens one eye. "Telling for what?" Then he realizes the...position...she found us in.

I blush. A lot. "I-it wasn't like that! We just fell asleep out here last night!"

He stands up, brushes himself off. "Stay out of it, Laura. You have no clue what went on out here." He looks at me and smiles cutely.

Things will be different now. I saw his heart and soul. I told him I liked him. God, what have I done...?