This chapter was actually written with James in mind… James, where are you? We miss you! Oh, that's right, he went on holidays, didn't he? Ah well… never mind. Hope you enjoy!

"Good evening, Ayane," Kasumi tried as her half-sister walked in, and judging by the smell, the dishevelled state of hair and half-glazed eyes, she was drunk.

"Fuck off," Ayane replied eloquently.

Something seems wrong. She's more… I don't know… just instinct tells me there's something wrong with her. I wonder what it could be? But there's no use in me asking her… she'd just brush me away… I regret treating her the way I did when we were younger, but now that I'm older and more mature, I've tried making it up to her…

I suppose that some things can't change. Grudges can form over years. My actions were, are, too little too late. And it was my fault, I readily admit that. But I want to be friends with her again. Now she won't let me.

There was the sound of footsteps in the hall. "Not again, Ayane," their mother greeted Ayane tiredly. Kasumi turned, and quietly walked out of the room.

She seems upset. But I don't know why. I had better leave Mother and Ayane alone.

"Why do you insist on doing this, Ayane?" her mother asked softly. They were sitting on the bed now. Seemingly girl-talk time or something.

Ayane remained silent, simply tracing the outlines of the emerald green 'Hayabusa' butterflies.

Nothing for a few moments. Before a gentle, relaxing touch on her back. She wriggled her shoulders, trying to ease the pain in her neck with little success as her mother gently massaged her back and shoulders.

"Ayane. Shiden has told you repeatedly to not go out and get inebriated. You know better,"

"Yeah. What's it to you? I was just a mistake. Surely you didn't want to let Raidou fuck you,"

Her mother flinched as though she had been slapped, and it was only then that Ayane fully comprehended what she had said.
"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for… like, it was… I… sorry,"

I can't believe I said that. That is the lowest of low. There is a line between bitchy and cruel, and that comment is way over.

"Ayane, you may not have been… originally what I had been… expecting. But you're here, and I love you with all my heart. Please, don't do this to yourself,"

Shit again. There were tears forming in her mother's eyes.

"Look, I really didn't mean it. I'm pissed. I don't know what the hell I'm saying,"

Shimmering wine-coloured eyes looked down at her. "Even though your father… isn't the best sort of person, he brought you into this world, for which I am truly thankful. Although I don't like him as a person, he made my world complete,"

A lump formed in her throat. "Stop it,"

"Ayane, it's true," The hands stopped massaging her shoulders as her mother stared intently at her. "You're my daughter. Of course I care. I will never stop caring for you, Ayane,"

She's… she's going to make me cry if she keeps this up. Me… cry… stop it! You're ruining my reputation!

"Stop being so mushy," she said instead. "You're going soft,"

"Ayane," a gentle hand touched her cheek, caressing it gently. "I'll never stop caring for you. No matter what you do. But drinking underage is illegal. Not to mention it makes you stink,"

"Thanks!" she pulled away with mock indignation. "Are you saying I stink?"

"Yes," her mother stood up. "Take a shower before you go to bed. You don't want to make that top of yours have a permanent alcohol smell to it. Is it new?"

She fingered the butterflies almost self-consciously. "Yeah,"

Her mother smiled. "It's nice. I'll wash it. Very nice. You pick it? Or did Lisa?"

"Lisa would have picked something which consisted of straps slash leather slash something screaming bondage. Credit me with some taste,"

"Actually, Lisa mentioned it to me while she was waiting for you to get ready. So, you have a crush on Hayate's best friend, hmm?"

"What?" she jumped to her feet, this time the indignation real. "Give me some credit! Firstly you ask whether Lisa picked out my top, then you say that I have a crush on my brother's best friend? What are you, nuts?"

"Ryu is a nice young man," her mother shrugged. "Although… I think he needs to cut his hair… his father should really do something about it,"

"Mother," she whined. "Get with the times and stop being so… so old. Pin him down and cut it off yourself if you don't like it,"

"And Hayate's hair is getting rather untidy, too…" It seemed that her mother was back to her cheerful, usual self. "Remind me to book him in for a hair appointment,"

"Book him in for a hair appointment," she mocked. "Mother, it's the fashion,"

"What, to go around looking untidy? You and your unruly generation,"

"At least we didn't go around dressed like hippies,"

"But, Ayane," her mother teased. "It was the fashion,"

She waved a finger condescendingly in her mother's direction. "You're missing the point, Mother Dearest. Unlike you, our fashion is actually fashionable,"

"Going around in, as I've heard you mention them more then once before, skanky bondage outfits, is deemed fashionable these days?"

"Shut up," she conceded defeat. "You win this time,"

It's nice. That even though I was just a mistake, a failure, that she cares enough about me to tell me. That I actually matter to somebody, that they care about me.

It's nice. I like it.

I like them caring about me.