"If you seek love, don't expect it to be simple, don't expect it to be easy. If one thing is certain, it's that it'll be neither. If you want love, then by all means seek it out - search for it high and low. You know you'll always have us - all of us - here to help you, but when it comes down to it, love is a matter of each individual heart. No one can tell you, no one can warn you, no one can prepare you for what it will be like. When it comes, if it comes, you'll know it - and then you'll have to decide just how much you want it, how much you're willing to give to let it live."

Marron took one last look into the mailbox. It was empty but that was impossible. There had been a letter there…

There was nothing but cool metal under her fingertips.

She took out her hand quickly, as if burned, and ran to the elevator. She banged again on the lift button and then, impatiently ran to the stairs.

North

Her mouth felt like cotton. She tried again.

"Hello?"

She wasn't sure how she got here, only that wherever here was, was much too dark.

She hated the dark.

"HELLO!?"

The door swung open, a barrel chested man hefted her off a cot and led her outside.

She blinked lamely at sterilized lights and whipped herself out of his grasp. "Let me GO!" She backed toward the wall, feral. She would jump him if she had to. If she had to-

"Marron?"

She turned her head, "Miyako?" She scrunched up her eyes owlishly toward the end of the hall. Miyako had her hands deep in her dark coat, making her look smaller and unsure. "Miyako, where am I?" 

Miyako hurried over and placed herself non committedly between Marron and the man. "I'll take her."

He seemed uncomfortable with the idea but she did not budge. Finally, he nodded once in acquiescence. Miyako hooked arms with Marron and led her into a room by the side. She let her go to pull off her coat, gesturing for Marron to take a seat by the window. Outside were ambulances and people happy at a loved ones release and-

Miyako took a seat opposite from her, their knees barely touching. Her school uniform bagged off her, almost swallowing her haggard air.

Marron noticed for the first time that she wasn't similarly attired. It was a surprise, a school uniform became like a second skin, after awhile it became as natural as breathing.

She wondered why her breath caught in her throat.

Marron felt the chill by the window, dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants cuffed at the calves. The bleached blend of cotton made her skin feel paler, made the scars across her forearms stand out more.

The chill wasn't from the window.

"Miyako, why am I here?"

"What? You know where you are now?" There was an edge to her voice. "Do you know now?!"

"Miyako." Marron fixed her with a pained confused look. "Please."

Miyako gave her a penetrating stare and suddenly flared up again. "No. NO! I can't keep this up Marron! I love you but this hurts too much!" She gestured wildly around the room, the window cradled a dim reflection of despair.

"I don't understand!"

"No. You never do." Her voice was thick. "You've been here for awhile."

"What? Coma?"

"Yah. Something like that." She was looking out the window. "I suppose the last time you remember seeing me is at the play." She seemed resigned to follow a familiar dance.

"No. I remember you throwing a ball at me because you couldn't stop Jeanne."

"Stop that." Miyako glared at Marron.

"What?"

"I never did that."

"You did. I –"

"No. I didn't. I wouldn't throw a ball at you because I have never tried to catch Jeanne because Jeanne does NOT exist!!"

'Wha- what are you-?" Marron gaped, tears stinging her eyes.

"Miyako, stop. I know it's hard for you but she doesn't remember." A boy stood in the doorway. Sea blue eyes and unkempt hair easing the tension in the room.

Miyako sucked in a sob. "I… I'm sorry. Marron, I didn't mean to- please forget I said anything." She was abruptly stricken at what she said, then laughed. An angry sobbing laugh.

"Miyako, please." She took his hand and allowed him to help her into her coat. He led her out the door and pulled her toward him, still half in Marron's view. He asked something of her, which she shook her head to. He didn't seem pleased.

He slipped back into the room. "You remember me, right?"

She pronounced each syllable distastefully, "Sinbahd."

"Ah, so you're in that frame of mind today then." His seemed slightly regretful.

Her glare did not still, "I am not interested in your opinion. Is Miyako…?"

"She's strong…" He caught her gaze, "I asked her to stop coming."

"What? I-"

"You don't remember it anyway."

"That's not the point! I don't even know what's going on! I don't know-" She was hiccupping, hardly aware that she was crying as he caught her in his arms. She sunk into him.

"Shh… I'm sorry. I'm didn't mean to take it out on you Marron."

He waited until she calmed down, pulling out of his arms. "I'll get the orderly. You should go back to your room."

"NO! No. It's…"

He nodded, understanding. "Would you like to stay here then?"

"I'd like some answers."

He rolled his eyes, chuckling softly. "Why not," he said to himself. He looked at her and continued under his breath, "Why not indeed."

"Why am I here?"

He reached for her forearm in a firm grasp, preventing her from pulling it back. His thumb idly grazed the scar. "Because of this." His eyes met hers again. "But it isn't why you're still here."

"I don't remember."

"I know."