Author's Notes: Sorry for the cliffhanger. I just couldn't resist. Anyway, here is the next update! I hope you like this.

Echoes Of The Past

Crumbling Walls

Screaming, cussing, hitting, stomping, crying, kicking and dying.

That is what she felt at that exact moment. Kaede wanted to kill herself, to rid herself of the essence of life that was continuously flowing inside her, to release her from the mortal bounds that kept her tied to her misery. It was easy really, to just slit her wrists or chug down that bottle of pills or perhaps jump from the five-story balcony that's so opportunely situated by her room.

Every night since Hisaki's death, she tossed and turned in bed, never having that dreamless sleep she so longed for; and every waking moment, she was constantly plagued by memories of their happier times. It was as if what happened in reality had not been enough torture, for all means of temporary escape were blocked. It was as the heavens were persistently punishing her until she's driven to the very edge.

But Kaede fought, she fought valiantly as hard as she could, until her body gave up.

After that day that Mr. Nagasaki had "informed" Kaede of his plans to go on with the wedding, Kaede had decided to stop all her foolishness.

...And just go crazy with life.

If life wanted to tango, she was going to jump right in and dance her troubles away.

Kaede wanted to forget, even just for a while, but every minute spent sulking in her room just brought her more pain. She felt like a piece of jutting rock in the midst of a stormy sea, getting smaller and smaller, weaker and weaker, as wave after giant crushing wave slapped and knocked her mercilessly. Just when she thought things couldn't get worse, she now was supposed to marry a man she didn't even know.

It was beyond human control. Kaede needed to let it all out.

Ever heard of the saying, "Misery loves company?"

Miserable and hurting, that's exactly what Kaede decided to find.

Kaede snuck out every night through the balcony and onto the tree that so conveniently stood near, not wanting anyone to know where she's been spending all her "grieving" time. She visited the hottest spots in town, shopped for clothes that would have made Betty Boop look like a nun and drowned her sorrows in alcohol. She did things she knew her parents would never approve of. She went in to that disco with luminous paint and bathed herself in color as she grooved to the tunes. She frequented the bars where everyone just let loose and had fun. Soon enough, her face became familiar in these hangouts and popular with the guys.

Night after night, she went in hoping to get a good kick into her senses to numb her for another exhausted collapse onto bed. But often, the following mornings after a night of pure, wild fun, she found herself stark naked, sweaty and aching in another stranger's bed she didn't even remember going home with. She even experimented on drugs that took her to an unnatural high. She did everything, everything that could take the place of her problems.

But her fun nights weren't fun for long. Kaede suffered from terrible hangovers. Throbbing, pounding headaches and uncontrollable retching of last night's dinner were on top of her list. She would feel sick, unable to eat properly and just lie in bed, letting the dizziness wash over her until she almost passed out. A month went by and still, the nausea wasn't going away.

Finally, just after throwing up all that she's eaten once again in the bowl she now saw as her altar, Kaede called for Tama. Upon hearing Kaede's weak voice after such a long hibernation, the old woman went up the stairs as fast as her little legs could carry her. Tama looked her over, saying that she looked awful and that she needed to eat more. Her tears fell for Kaede, wanting nothing but peace and good health for the poor child, totally oblivious to where this "child" has been running off to.

She was brought to the hospital and there, she slowly regained her strength. But she never was put back together again. Pieces of her were never to be found. She was broken, weak, vulnerable. Hence, her father took charge.

The crystals were nothing less than dazzling white. They shone like little spotlights as sunlight bounced off their reflective surfaces. There was a myriad of brilliant colors exceeding those of a rainbow on the sea of absolute whiteness. It was simply a spectacular sight.

If anyone should be awarded the Best Looking Bride for the Year, it should go to none other than Nagasaki Kaede. She looked like a doll, with her arranged hair in a tight bun covered by a laced veil, leaving some delicately curled strands framing her made-up face. Her lips were a moist deep shade of pink, almost red. Her cheeks looked like she was slightly blushing from all the attention. Her eyes were highlighted to appear round and deep-set. She was picture perfect underneath her veil and in her immaculately pristine gown.

The photographers must have agreed, along with all those invited to the exclusive occasion, because they didn't stop clicking and flashing as Kaede walked slowly down the red ceremonial aisle.

It was a month; a month after Hisaki's death and the wedding went on as planned. Mr. Nagasaki was surprised when Kaede finally conceded to his wishes. He was expecting trouble, because he knew his daughter. She was strong-willed, stubborn and scandalous. Yet, in this one time, she surprised him. He had come to her, asking nicely for the last time. What he didn't expect was that she would agree.

"Kaede, time is running short. I must ask you to cooperate or I will have to use force. Don't make it hard for yourself..." Mr. Nagasaki visited Kaede one morning. It was a morning when she had just thrown up in the bathroom and was quite drowsy, but feeling like herself nevertheless.

Kaede breathed in slowly, feeling her thundering heartbeat and the thousands upon thousands of eyes fixed upon her. She continued smiling, repeatedly chanting her mindless mantra, "Breathe, one step at a time. Left, right. You're going to be fine. Breathe, left, right. Breathe, left, right..."

Finally, the altar came to view...and there he stood, beaming, with his hands behind his back, like she dreamed him to be.

Doumyouji Hisaki.

"Hisaki, will you take Nagasaki Kaede as your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part?" the minister asked the groom.

"Yes, I do," he said with all sincerity.

"Kaede, will you take Doumyouji Hisaki as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part?" the minister turned to the bride.

Hisaki looked into her eyes, searching for an answer, but she just couldn't look back. She was still wondering, up to that last minute, if the lie was worth it. Her thoughts averting to the happier times with Hisaki, she finally said, "I do."

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." It was sealed with a kiss. It was final. It was done. Kaede had gone through what her father wanted, what she wanted... She's finally moved on. As their lips met, the people could not help but cry tears of joy, some of envy, others remembered their own weddings of bliss and everyone said they looked perfect together.

But why were the tears brimming in her eyes saying otherwise?