I have more time! Yay! –Paused in getting my proverbial rear kicked from here to next year- Umm, well, I beat Murai, so that's good… for me… after like ten million times. But I still have my talisman of rebirth! Yay! Actually, I played it for a while, got my butt kicked over and over and over, got grumpy and turned the game off, turned it back on and kicked Murai's butt straight off. Hmm. Must ponder that some more.

I am an official action games idiot. And any other type of idiot… but I cannot play action games to save my life. Lara Croft, wonderful explorer and kicks any baddies' butts got drowned in her own swimming pool the last time my friend and I got our hands on a PS controller. So, umm… yeah.

That said, Gouki, it's still really fun! –Still pretending it's really Hayate who's getting his butt kicked- And, uh, you just can't take him 'dying' seriously when he's still breathing… the things you notice as an obsessed fangirl. It isn't SO bad… besides, I, uh… think I'm getting used to it.

-Insert 'dot-dot-dot' here-

Sigh. And yes, Wolf, I suppose you are right there, there are living, breathing enemies, but the walls don't fight back.

Number1? I don't really have a record… I lose count. –sheepish grin- But I usually keep on going until I hit a hard spot, then hope that it goes if I turn the Xbox off (success of that technique so far proved to be zero, but…)

Righteo, enough Ninja Gaiden ranting for me, back onto the story! Escawing, I wouldn't have a clue. 'Whatever happens happens' is the motto of this story. –Even bigger sheepish grin-

Anywho. Enjoy the chapter, okay? While I turn back to getting my butt kicked once more. Yay!

As much as he tried concentrating on something else, anything else, he couldn't.

Ryu. Damn it. Even when you're not here, you're still dominating my thoughts. Making me feel guilty. And Kasumi looks so sad. What have you done to her?

"Hayate, are you working in there?" It was his father, rapping on his door briskly. He fought back the present urge to yell out loud, instead replying with a simple and polite "Yes, Father,"

"Good,"

He heard footsteps as his father walked down the stairs, leaving him in peace and quiet. Truth be told, there was no way that what he was doing could be considered working. He was rifling through his old school photos, for the classes, going through them one by one.

Year seven. Quite a few familiar faces. Brad was there, sitting down in the front row, hair carelessly draped over one shoulder. He suppressed a smile, seeing Leon and Bayman sitting there as well, their expressions making it painstakingly obvious how much they did not wish to be there. That psychic girl, Christie was there, looking at something beyond the camera. And so was Ryu.

They were standing next to each other. He himself looked positively bored out of his mind, but was still managing an easy smile. Ryu, on the other hand, had his eyes averted; a faraway expression on his face.

Year eight. He was down the front row this year. He noticed bemusedly that he had forgotten to do up his tie properly on that day. Only familiar face was Brad. The rest were in other classes from the looks of things.

Year nine. Year ten. And then onto year eleven and year twelve.

He examined his most recent photo carefully. Nearly everybody he knew and associated with was in his form this year. Kasumi was sitting in the front row, a cheerful, friendly smile on her face. Hitomi was next to her, also smiling. Leifang was in the second row, instead of the customary smile; her lips were in a pretty pout that seemed more appropriate for the catwalk then a school photo.

Helena was standing in the back row, seemingly even managing to make standing and smiling an elegant motion. Christie was on the other end of the back row, caught permanently with a half frown on her face, directed at the French girl.

Ayane. Ayane was there too, looking as sullen as always, even more so then usual. Probably because she was sitting next to Kasumi.

Leon and Bayman were both in the back row with matching surly expressions on their faces. Jann-Lee was wearing a determined grimace, as if even in a photo he was planning on being the best at something. Tina was in the second row, leaning forward and smiling seductively.

Ryu was actually half-smiling this year. However, it seemed to be a consistency in school photos, to never look at the camera.

He was smiling. Was he the only one that could read the hidden emotions in those eyes, that despair behind the masked smile? Was he the only one that even cared?

Life had been so easy in year seven. Hand in homework and make friends. It wasn't that difficult. By year eight, he and Ryu had formed a solid friendship.

Or so he had thought.

Open your eyes and look around you, instead of being so wrapped up with yourself and your own life…

He wasn't self-centred. Was worrying about himself automatically classified as being a self-centred person? Making nigh-on everything his concern was one of his bad habits, he could admit that readily, but he wasn't going to allow the label of self-centred float by.

And you deserve to be blamed for Irene's death. If you hadn't been driving, then she wouldn't have died…

Was that something a true friend would say?

Even he knew that instantly. No.

But I've said bad things to him as well. Even still. It hurts to be blamed for somebody's death so badly. Nothing is more important to us then life, and being the cause of taking it away…

Does that make me a murderer?

He has no right to tell me that. It wasn't anybody's fault. It was an accident. If anything, it was the fault of that other driver. They crashed into me, not the other way around.

But I was driving. Therefore, the blame automatically gets planted on me, justified or not.

Why couldn't it have been anybody else. Me. Then nobody would be upset. Except for Irene, because she was just that sort of person.

I don't even know if Ryu cares any longer. Surely, if he cared something about our friendship he would give me a call and try to sort it out. I suppose this is just another sign that he doesn't care. A seven year friendship, reduced to dust with a mere one argument. This has to be a record of some sort.

It was just fate, or whatever. Nothing could be done. And fate isn't my doing, therefore not my fault. He can't legitimately blame it on me.

Even so. It still hurts when he does…

He went out of the room for a moment, got a packet of chips from the pantry before going back to his room and burrowing through his wardrobe, looking for something.

His record book from year ten. He could count on two hands the number of times it had actually been used for its correct purpose. Usually, it was a form of communication. Not between the parents and the teachers, like it was supposed to be, but a form of communication between the students when talking wasn't permitted.

March the third. His scrawl started the message, followed by Ryu's neat script.

----------------------

- Do you even know the answer to this math question?

- Sure. Just y = mx c.

- Well, I'll take your word for it. Nerd.

- You do want me to help you, don't you?

- Of course. How can you resist my incredible wit and charm?

- Do you really want me to answer that question? The truth hurts, you know.

- You're too cruel sometimes. What you doing after school?

- Haven't thought that far yet. Perhaps go down to the mall. Why?

- Sounds good. Do you want to make it a date?

- A date? Do I get presents? An engagement ring?

- You sick little freak, you. Shut up and do your maths test.

- Yes, sir. You started it, anyway.

- Did not.

- Did too.

- Did not.

- Okay, now we're being immature.

- Says you who wants an engagement ring. You sicko.

- I don't 'want' one. Just, it sounded so… I don't know. I'm not a girl, Hayate. And as much as your romantic life may be lacking…

- Shut up. You're horrible.

And don't even THINK about stealing my line, either.

----------------------

He sighed softly. His record book had been the source of entertainment throughout year ten as his and Ryu's conversations-when-they-were-supposed-to-be-working. He flicked forward to June the fifteenth. Ryu's birthday.

----------------------

- Wow, dude. You're so old.

- Thanks, Hayate. I love you too.

- You better be joking…

- Of course I am. Punch me and die.

- Why? Birthday bashes is almost like a tradition. You're going to spoil it now, just because you're afraid of getting a wittle bruisey?

- Keep it up and you'll get a big bruisey. Hey, look. A hole.

- What?!

- A hole.

- Who really gives a toot about the hole, you loser? I'd say you've just about used up the allotted 'Birthday Insanity' with that remark alone.

- Come on. Be generous. I have to deal with you and your insanity every single day.

- You're so nice to me, Ryu. I'm surprised that I haven't given you a bruisey yet.

- You subconsciously know that if you do, I will personally beat you into little Hayate puree.

- I'll give you puree.

- Thanks. Is that my birthday present?

- Idiot…

----------------------

July, now. His birthday. First class of the day and already they were in intent conversation. Well, written conversation.

----------------------

- Happy birthday, Hayate. You old codger, you.

- C'mon. You're older then me.

- True. But technically, me calling you old does not affect the outcome of my statement.

- So, in hindsight, you're calling yourself old, too.

- Don't think about it so much. It isn't worth that much thought.

- You mentioned it.

- True, true. So. Do you feel any older?
- No, not really. Why?

- Because you're certainly not acting it.

- ...I should have been expecting that.

- Yes, you should have. What are you planning on doing?

- Oh, not a lot, really. We were going to go out to a restaurant. Do you want to come?
- Sure. If that's alright.

- Yeah. I think Father booked assuming you were.

- Thanks. But does that mean I have to get you something?

- Of course! Because I'm so wonderful…

- Ha, that's a good one. Oh, you weren't kidding?

- Very funny, wise-ass.

- Well, at least, unlike you, some part of me is wise. Even if it happens to be my rear end, something is better then nothing. The only thing that lives in your rear end is hormones.

- What would you know about my rear end, anyway? Have you been spying on me or something?

- You thrive on the imaginary.

- Hey, that girl that just walked past was quite hot… kidding! Kidding!

- Oh, from memory I owe you something.

- My arm! What the hell, Ryu? You violent brute, you!

- It was tradition, wasn't it?

----------------------

A shorter one, not more then a month later, judging from the content and the boredom levels, during a maths class.

----------------------

- I'm bored.

- Me too. You don't have to tell everyone; otherwise they'll all want it too.

- What, boredom? Nobody in their right MIND could want boredom! I'm considering cutting off my arm, by the way.

- What on earth for?

- I'm bored. It'd be something to do, chop it off and then sew it back on.

- You are an idiot. Besides, you even think of getting blood over my side of the desk, you die.

- Well, I'll have something to do. You'll just be bored.

- No. Watching you cut off your arm would stem my previously mentioned boredom quite considerably. Go ahead, give me something to watch.

- Hang on a sec…

- Well? What are you waiting for? Christmas? I suppose if you wait until then, it'll be something to do. What with giving gifts and all… you could give somebody your arm!

- Yeah, right. As if I'm staying in this crap class until Christmas. I'll cut off my arm later. It might hurt.

- No! Whoever would have thought?

- Are you asking for me to kill you?

- Cut your arm off first.

- Very funny.

----------------------

He is my friend. I think he'll always be my friend.

Just perhaps… we're drifting apart.

Perhaps.

Yo, it's the author again... (NO! YOU CAN'T GET RID OF HER! HAHAHAHA!) The letters were actually in different fonts in my copy of the story, so I apologise if it's difficult to read. Hopefully you got the gist of it, though. Anyway, until next time! (Which will be, like, tomorrow...)