Disclaimer: (in haiku format!)
Blossoms drift to Earth,
I do not own Love Hina,
so please do not sue
As I write this, I'm still waiting for my last update to register on In other words, I'm starting this chapter the same day as I finished my last! Scandalous! At any rate, the more I think about it, the more I think my last chapter was my best yet. I'm afraid I won't be able to top it, but I'll be damned if that stops me from trying. So, I hope you wind up liking this chapter as much as you like any of my previous work! And... yeah, I'm working on keeping the creative juices flowing, but I get the feeling my muse is going to go off and take a smoke break or something. She certainly won't go on vacation like she did 8 months ago (I've fitted her with a tracking collar, so just try and let her get away now! mwahaha...), so you don't have to worry about that, but she may leave me for a few days, or even a week or two.
VoidHawk - Thanks for the review. Honestly, until I wrote this last chapter, I was never a huge fan of Kanako... but all of a sudden, after writing from her perspective, I found her to be a much more interesting character than before and, as I said, I honestly can't tell what's going to happen now. Also, as for the whole Naru thing, that's possibly the only aspect of the story that I still know what's going on with. I won't ruin it, but I will say that although there will certainly be a twist there, I think you'll be satisfied with the way everything plays out. Unless, of course, this monster of a story runs away with that too... >. ;
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Chapter 6 - Stitched Shut, Torn Open
Hinatasou, Mid-May
The change was quickly noticed by all the tenants of Hinatasou, as Keitaro seemed fully back to normal. No longer did he retreat to his room for periods of quiet rest and grieving. His smiles were full and genuine, his movements confident and self-assured as they had never been, even after his marriage to Naru. Of course, everyone was all so focused on their beloved old kanrinrin's emotional state that no one noticed a similar change in their current kanrinrin, Kanako. Though the signs were less noticeable, since Kanako always acted confident and self-assured, they were still there for the observant: broader smiles, more energy, more care towards her appearance. She no longer strode through the halls of the house, grimly attending her duties, but rather swept about smiling, happily cleaning windows and floors, checking the inn for signs of disrepair and fixing them where they appeared. Even if they had noticed her strange behavior, though, the others would probably never guess the cause. They would just suspect that she was cheerful because her brother had recovered, and that she would return to normal shortly.
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Bustling her merry way through the house, Kanako thought fondly back to the first morning waking up alongside her sibling last week. Used to a morning training schedule, Keitaro woke up early. Naturally, his first reaction had been one of horror at waking up in the arms of his dear little sister, but she had anticipated that. Letting him get his bearings, she calmly sat up and let the covers fall off of her, displaying that she had been wearing pajamas (black, of course). Though this had a little bit of a calming effect on Keitaro (he had only been wearing a pair of boxers), he still found himself trying to sort out how and why Kanako had made her way into his bed.
"K-kanako! W-what, when..." babbled poor, distressed Keitaro as his brain tried to go from sleep mode to problem-solving mode in about three seconds, which tends to cause a bit of synaptic confusion.
"Onii-chan," Kanako said quietly, "I came in last night to check on you, and you seemed to be having nightmares. So, I decided to stay with you." This wasn't the complete truth, obviously, but it was all she felt he could handle right now. Sure enough, this statement caused him to relax visibly.
"Oh, I see," he replied. He broke into a brotherly smile. "Thank you, Kanako, but I'm an adult now. I can sleep by myself at night." He turned and went to gather his clothes, but Kanako wouldn't let him just dismiss the subject.
"Do you remember your nightmares, Onii-chan?" she asked in a serious tone of voice. Keitaro, his back now to her, stiffened as he thought back to the night before.
"No, no I don't..." he said, trailing off, then shaking his head to dislodge the memories threatening to surface. Going back into motion, he stooped to pick up a pair of pants he had left lying on the floor the day before.
Suddenly, he felt warmth spread across his back as something soft pressed itself against him. Arms wrapped around his front in an embrace, and he felt soft hair, mussed from the night of sleep, falling against his bare skin. His nose all of a sudden began once more to pick up the comforting scent that it had grown used to during the night, shocking Keitaro back into his scattered memories of the dream world even as Kanako whispered, "think, Onii-chan, you can remember, can't you?"
They stood there a moment, Keitaro unable to move, Kanako unwilling to, until she saw him move his head slightly in a nod.
"I... I can remember," he stated, hoarsely. "It was... dark. I heard... heard her scream. Then nothing. I was alone..." he slumped to the floor, caught by the force of the dreams. "Oh god... oh god it hurt so much... being alone..." He raised his head suddenly, sharply, as though a thought had struck him. "Then... then there was someone. They were close for a bit, a little while... it meant so much to me, them being there. I was glad... I felt that they cared about me..." he trailed off, remembering.
Somehow, though, Kanako knew this dream presence wasn't her. Frustrated, she leaned close to his ear again, asking him, "what then, was that it?"
The smile that had begun to make an appearance on Keitaro's face dropped as suddenly as though he had been struck. "No... even that person... that person... left..." His voice died to a whisper as he continued, saying, "I was alone, again. It wasn't all black anymore, but it was... there was no color, only faint shapes, like... like when you're trying to make your way through someplace new, unfamiliar, at night... There was a little light, but barely enough to get by on." He stopped again, thinking. Then he started shuddering, squeezing his eyes shut as they released tears for the first time in months.
"Another presence... came... it... was warm..." he managed, between sobs. "It... it took away the... the dark... took away everything... let me sleep." His body gave up again, then, falling over sideways until Kanako caught him, pulling him close and whispering once more into his ear as they sank to the floor together.
"Onii-chan... just rest. I won't let you be alone." Softly, soothingly, she held him, stroking his hair as sobs racked his body.
It's a good thing I suggested we stop training Sunday mornings... she thought, then turned her attention back to her tortured brother, applying the balm of her caring to the scabs and scars of his soul.
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Since then, Keitaro had not once complained about her nightly visits. They kept silent about the arrangement by mutual agreement, fully aware what might happen if word got out. Both benefitted from their nights together, though, and soon Hinatasou had become completely normal. However, there were at least two who didn't share in the new atmosphere, two people over whom, for different reasons, Naru's death still loomed strongly.
With Haruka and Seta still gone, and the students all at their various schools, Motoko often found herself visiting Kitsune in the teashop after morning training. Still uncomfortable with her own feelings, Motoko had never brought up the conversation with the disguised Kanako, and Kitsune naturally had no idea that it had taken place. The two talked and chatted about the doings of the other tenants, the regulars at the teashop, and of course, about Keitaro. This morning, though, they were both concerned about the recent change in attitude around the house.
Motoko was the first to express her fears. "Keitaro seems to have been lightening up a lot on his training lately," she ventured, letting her voice reflect her concern. "He's been taking more days off, too. It's as though he just... doesn't care anymore." She receded into silence, leaving her thoughts floating in the warming spring air.
After a brief pause, Kitsune looked at her and replied, "it does seem strange. What with that and the way everyone's been acting... It's like they've all forgotten entirely that Naru ever existed. It's worrying, is what it is. I mean, it hasn't even been a year since she died!" Getting angry, she smacked the top of the counter for emphasis. "How can they just forget that quickly?"
Motoko looked up at her, shocked at the outburst. "B-but, Kitsune, just a short while ago, you were saying that we should all be getting over it!"
Kitsune looked at her sharply, puzzled and even more angry than she was a moment ago. "What the Hell are you talking about, girl?" she exclaimed.
"A-about a week ago, Saturday, when you pulled me aside into my room and asked me all those questions!" stammered the confused swordswoman, now deeply worried.
"Saturday? I was out...! Um, getting groceries, remember!" said Kitsune, barely catching herself in her distressed state.
Blushing, Motoko responded, "you said you were cancelled on..."
Kitsune's face went several shades of red simultaneously, her mouth working furiously but no words coming out, as she tried to figure out what to say to such a bizzare mix in which truth and falsehood had traded places. Eventually, she managed to scream out, "WHAT THE HELL!"
After Motoko had calmed Kitsune down, the two talked and sorted things out. What they discovered was very strange to both of them.
"All right," said Motoko. "Evidently, I talked to someone that wasn't you but seemed identical to you while you were, it seems, out on a date."
"Y-eess," said Kitsune, still rather horrified that she had been seen through. "That sounds, honestly, a lot like Kanako when she first came here," she suggested.
"True," agreed Motoko, "but why would she do something like that? I thought she was done with that childish part of herself."
"Well, she has occasionally used her costumes while you've been gone," Kitsune admitted. "Still, it was mostly for fun, or to help the rest of us. She never took our identities for any bad reasons after that first week or so. What could she be doing?"
Motoko sighed, then said, "I guess I'll have to find out. Just leave it alone for now, I'll ask her tonight."
Kitsune nodded. "Be sure to let me know when you find out. I still don't like the idea of anyone wearing my face but me." She turned to an approaching customer, waving goodbye to Motoko as she did so.
Motoko waved back, then turned and headed up the stairs to the main house.
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Hinatasou, Same Day, 8:57 P.M.
Deciding that now would be the perfect time to ask, since all three of the Hinatasou warriors were getting up early in the morning to train, Motoko walked the halls of the house headed towards Kanako's room. Reaching the door that marked the entrance to the kanrinrin's personal space, she steeled herself to ask the question that had been in the back of her mind all day. Taking a deep breath, she knocked three times on the door.
No answer.
Surprised, because she hadn't seen Kanako in the baths and couldn't think where else to look for her, Motoko knocked again. When there was still no response, she cracked open the door and peered inside. Nothing. She opened the door wide and stepped in, thinking to wait for Kanako until she returned from whatever she was doing this late in the evening. An hour later, a confused Motoko had to admit she was ready for bed herself, and gave up, returning to her room.
I'll stop by and find her in the morning before we train, she thought as she turned out the lights and laid down on her futon.
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Hinatasou, Next Day, 6:03 A.M.
Stepping quietly this time to avoid waking anyone else in the household, Motoko crept down the hall once more to Kanako's room. This time she knocked gently as she simply opened the door, expecting to have to wake the girl up, since their training usually didn't start for almost another half an hour. Thus did she find herself extremely surprised by her kanrinrin's total absence from the room. The futon didn't even appear to have been slept in. Confused, Motoko stepped inside, walking about in an effort to find out where the girl might have gone.
As she looked, she found herself thinking back to that conversation with Kanako/Kitsune, turning over the words and the manner in which they had been said in a way that she hadn't really thought about before. One phrase especially kept bouncing around in her head, she wasn't sure why.
'Are you trying to heal his heart by taking her place?' she said... thought Motoko. Why do I keep thinking back to that phrase? And why did she sound so angry...? She pondered a few more minutes, while idly checking over the tidy stacks of paperwork on the desk and searching the room for some kind of a note, before the germ of unease that had been resting in the back of her mind reared up and struck out. She stopped, horrified by the vague connection that her mind had just made between that conversation, that phrase, Keitaro's strange behavior... No longer caring if she woke anyone, Motoko turned and bolted out of the room and down the hallway.
Sliding to a stop in front of Keitaro's door, she paused to catch her breath, considering what she was about to do. Part of her mind was telling her just to back down and forget about it. You're probably just imagining things, it said, urging her to calm down, these are sketchy conclusions at best.
But what if they're right? the part of her mind currently running in overdrive asked.
Then perhaps it isn't for you to interfere, the detatched part of her said. After all, she does know him far better than you, and if he's already chosen her...
But I care about him too! her emotions wailed, despairing.
And you've done your best to show him that. Besides, you're probably just jumping to conclusions here. Forget about it, ask them both about it frankly later. The voice telling her to calm down was becoming more and more insistent.
I just can't! thought Motoko desperately, and she pulled open the door just enough to look in.
Two figures, their breathing regular, made a single mound under the covers in a tangled embrace.
Turning and staggering a few steps down the hall, Motoko's legs gave out as her emotions did, causing her to slump to the floor, no longer caring if the door was closed, no longer caring if anyone saw her.
Not ready, huh? the voice that she had argued with in the baths the other night came back to her. She tried to reply, to give some kind of sharp, mental retort, but nothing came to her. She made a slight choking noise as tears rose to her eyes, and she stumbled back to her feet, making her way down the hall to her room.
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Back in Keitaro's room, a sharp jolt of ki jolted Keitaro out of sleep, and a feeling of terrible sadness washed over him. He looked at the door, saw it was opened a crack, and then turned again to find Kanako awake and looking towards the doorway as well.
"What just happened?" he asked her blearily. She started, jolted out of her thoughts, and turned back towards him.
"I'm sure it was nothing," she said, smiling. She then looked at the alarm clock, reached over, and turned off the alarm. "It's about time we got up anyways, right? Training in fifteen minutes." She stood up and smiled warmly at him once more before reentering the secret passage and returning to her room.
Damn, she thought. I was just about to switch to lingerie, too... Now I've got to figure out a way to deal with this... Pondering a way out of the situation that she should have but never really did plan for, she continued down the tunnel to her room.
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Staggering to his feet and getting ready for an early morning workout, Keitaro found himself strangely bothered by what had just happened. Kanako had been very unconvincing, and the open door was a mystery that couldn't be explained by 'nothing.' And wasn't that jolt of sadness somehow familiar? It was as though he had felt that ki before, but now it was... twisted, warped. The more he thought about it, the more he was certain, he knew the person that had been outside the door. Just as he threw a shirt on, it struck him.
Motoko! The thought broke through his sleep-clouded brain like a laser beam. She must have come to wake me up and saw... He went red, though he couldn't think why. After all, we are brother and sister, right? Nothing wrong with sleeping with one another... Even to him, the words felt unconvincing, though, as he remembered the press of Kanako's warm body against his, her soft hair brushing the back of his neck, her hot breath on his cheek, the soft crush of her breasts on his back... A drop of blood left his nose as he frantically tried waving the thoughts aside, but they kept coming. Suddenly, in the midst of all this confusion, he thought back to Motoko.
That jolt of ki... it was so... sad... He stopped, thoughts of Kanako erased from his mind as he thought of the kind swordswoman who had helped him up when he had fallen to his lowest of lows. But why...? Could she feel that way? About...me? Wonderingly, Keitaro finished dressing as he pondered this new development. So caught up in his thoughts was he that he managed to completely miss the second surge of ki that morning, which should have stood out like a t-rex in a shopping plaza. By the time he had reached the deck, though, he still couldn't figure out what to do, what to decide if Motoko and Kanako did, in fact, feel that way.
Fortunately for him, though unfortunately, as it would turn out, in the long run, Keitaro was spared that decision for a bit. He reached the deck to find no one there. Puzzled, he looked around, called out for Motoko and Kanako, but neither of them appeared. He turned and stood at the railing for a bit, gazing out over the peaceful grounds below, his anxiety building with each passing moment. Then, deciding to go back into the house and find the others, he walked toward the stairs.
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As she finished dressing, Kanako still found herself at a loss for a way to correct the situation. It was obvious that she had significantly underestimated Motoko yet again, and that she did have a rival for Keitaro's affections after all. Even as she thought this, she felt a strong aura approaching. Rather than the dark, midnight blue of despair from earlier, though, this aura possessed a hue that was distinctly more dangerous, that rare color color that people always mean when they say "blood red," but are never actually able to picture because they haven't seen a person's lifeblood spilling out onto the ground in arterial spurts.
Kanako had seen it, though, and this was most definitely blood red.
Whirling around to face the door, Kanako prepared herself for a potential battle. Her own ki built up around her, a strong, white aura born from her righteous love for her brother, mingled with a red tinge of anger at the thought of Motoko interfering with her happiness. The door to the room was thrown wide, and the two faced one another.
Kanako's aura wavered a moment as she looked in shock upon the face of the person before her. The Motoko standing there was not the same as the kendoist she had seen just the day before at their afternoon training session. Her red, puffed up eyes glared at her fiercely out from a face streaked with tears. Her sword rested at her side, and though it rarely left that position at her hip, it somehow seemed more ominous now, threatening in a way Kanako had never seen it before. The aura had flared up as she had spotted Kanako, and it was now huge, palpable, a force buzzing at the edges of vision and washing the world in blood.
The other tenants must all be having bloody nightmares right now, was all Kanako could think for a moment before the shock wore off. Entering a fighting stance, she faced the intruder with renewed vigor, determined to protect her and Keitaro's happiness at any cost. Standing at the ready, she waited for the swordswoman to make the first move.
Motoko stood a moment in the doorway, aura pulsing, before Kanako realized that she was actually trying to control it. Breathing heavily, the kendo girl managed to push down the rage building in her gut: rage at Kanako for daring to seduce Keitaro, rage at whoever killed Naru for creating this situation, rage at herself for failing to express her feelings to Keitaro. The aura faded to a tight red band encircling her outline, as Motoko brought herself under control. Finally, sweating, teeth clenched, she managed to squeeze out a question.
"How...long...?" she demanded, her eyes never leaving Kanako's own. Deciding not to push her luck, and sensing that hurting Motoko would also hurt her own work with Keitaro, Kanako spoke honestly and calmly.
"Almost a week now," she replied, matching the swordswoman's gaze.
"Why?" Motoko almost screamed the question. "How could you?"
"I assume you realize that it wasn't really Kitsune you were talking to last week," the slender girl said, "so you know why. This has gone on long enough. Onii-chan has to move on."
"He's not ready!" yelled Motoko, no longer caring who she woke, giving voice to her own frustration. "It takes time to let go!"
Perhaps it was Motoko's own fury infecting her, but Kanako began to grow angry as well. "'Time to let go?'" she spat, "just like it took you time to let go of him after he married Naru?"
Straightening as though she had been struck, Motoko unconsciously reached for her sword as her aura wavered and bulged strangely, threatening to release itself again. "That's not the same, damnit, and you know it!" she screamed. (Downstairs, the other tenants were quietly and busily evacuating themselves and their most prized possessions to the stairs in front of the inn, fully expecting to see the whole house collapse in a matter of minutes)
Smiling, Kanako took enjoyment from dragging her fingernails on the chalkboard of Motoko's soul. "Oh, but it is, and you know it," she replied, "and I think he is ready. Why, if we just let him wallow, he'll go on like this for years!"
Shaking with rage, Motoko stared for a moment, trying to find a way to strike back that didn't involve the right hand that was, determinedly and of its own volition, creeping towards her left hip. Finally, in desperation, unable to think her actions through, she screamed, "then let's ask!" Quickly, she spun and dashed out of the room, running as fast as she was able towards the stairs to the deck.
Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, though, Keitaro emerged from the deck. Moving too fast to stop her momentum, Motoko collided with Keitaro, sending the two of them sprawling. Just as they landed, Kanako screeched to a halt after them, stopping dead in the hallway. Motoko rose to her knees and pulled Keitaro up to her by his shirt, tears once more pouring down her cheeks, screaming frantically, "is that it! Are you really recovered! Have you forgotten about Naru! Forgotten about Kurosawa, forgotten about it all!" And if so, why didn't you see ME! she cried internally, why didn't you see that I love you!"
"Of course he's recovered, no thanks to you, always reminding him of the past!" exclaimed Kanako, running over and shoving Motoko to the side, helping the stunned Keitaro into a sitting position. "Don't you get it? He's done with all that, done with those memories, done with you! Just leave him be!" she said. Looking to Keitaro for support, she stopped. Motoko, following her gaze, gasped in horror at what she saw, becoming so disturbed that she stopped crying.
Keitaro sat, held up only by his sister's loving hands, staring slack-jawed off into space. He suddenly looked a thousand years old and terribly weary. A single tear fell from each eye, carving two glistening trails down his cheeks. Shocked, Kanako almost dropped him as he turned empty eyes to her. Motoko shuddered as that dead gaze fell next upon her. Then, still silent as though he had been struck dumb, Keitaro calmly got to his feet and walked down the hall into his room.
The two girls, left behind on the floor, watched him go and then turned to one another. Looking at each other, they each saw their own shame at their part in what had just happened written on the other's face. Reaching some silent truce, the two rose and returned to their rooms as the other tenants came in to see if the sudden silence marked the passing of whatever threat had woken them from their sleep and driven them out of their beds.
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For the rest of the day, the house was under an oppressive cloud that refused to be lifted. Motoko avoided Kanako, Kanako avoided Motoko, and absolutely everyone avoided Keitaro, who remained in his room the rest of the day. Lunch and dinner were subdued events, between which the time was filled with listlessness and pointless activity. Only one person managed to work up the courage to approach the two female fighters and ask them precisely what had happened that morning. Kitsune was unable to get anything out of Kanako, who had followed her brother's example and sealed herself into her room, but Motoko broke down and told her everything. In the end, Kitsune was left unable to think of anything to say, and just put an arm around the distraught kendo girl and gave her a shoulder to cry out her sorrows onto.
In the end, the whole house came to know the story, and everyone spent the rest of the day sulking, fully expecting Keitaro to have returned to the lethargic state they found him in when he had first returned. And so it was that everyone was surprised the next morning when they woke to find him coming downstairs from practicing his form on the deck.
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Hinatasou, The Day After, 8:13 A.M.
Walking downstairs, carrying a fresh set of clothes to change into when he got out of the bath, Keitaro found himself greeted by a happily surprised crowd of females, all amazed that he was showing signs of life after yesterday. He gave them a warm smile, a courteous nod, and walked off to the baths. Only Kanako and Motoko were looking closely enough to see that his smile wasn't quite as bright as before. They exchanged cautious looks, and each determined to speak with him alone later.
After breakfast, Keitaro headed back up to his room to find Kanako there already, waiting for him. Carefully, as one might approach an abused animal, she stepped forward.
"Are you all right, Onii-chan?" she asked, reaching out touch him on the arm. He flinched away from her touch, though, and an expression of pain briefly crossed his face before he responded.
"I'm fine, Kanako. Just fine. Yesterday..." he winced as he said the word, paused, then continued, "yesterday made me think about some things. I'm sorry, but I'll be sleeping alone again from tonight onwards. Thank you for helping comfort me, though." Ignoring the stunned look on Kanako's face, he walked over to a corner of the room, picked up his staff, and left once more, headed for the deck.
Left behind, Kanako fell to her knees, tears welling up in her eyes, as she tried to figure out what had gone wrong, and how.
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Ascending the stairs to the deck, Keitaro was met by the sight of Motoko, meditating on the deck, waiting for him. He walked over and sat down across from her, entering a meditative position himself. Without opening her eyes, frightened by what she might see, Motoko spoke.
"Is... is everything well with you, Keitaro?" she asked, her voice giving away the fact that her attempts at calming herself through meditation had evaporated as he reached the deck.
Smiling, he looked at her. "It's all right, Motoko," he said gently. She opened her eyes, excited by the tone of his voice and terrified by it all at once.
"I wanted to apologize!" she blurted out, giving up on any pretense of calm and poise. Her eyes searched his face fearfully for some sign of an impending breakdown, for some sign of the damage she had caused, but found nothing. He only smiled wider and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he spoke again.
"You don't need to apologize. I should be thanking you. You reminded me of what it is that I must do," he said, sounding totally calm and at peace.
Unconvinced, Motoko watched him for a while, staring until her eyes watered, unable to stop watching ther person she was so sure she'd damaged deeply the previous morning.
"If you keep staring like that, you're going to bore a hole in my head," came Keitaro's amused voice, making her jump. He kept his eyes closed as he asked, "is there something on my face I should know about? Or are you just captivated by my devilish good looks?"
Finally satisfied that he was back to normal, Motoko just smiled herself and closed her eyes, returning to meditation with her mind at ease.
She never wondered what Keitaro might have been hiding behind those closed eyelids, though, and so never realized that she had brought back something that only Keitaro knew existed, something that would lead to much pain in the future. For now, though, everyone at Hinatasou had their fears eased, with the two exceptions of Kanako and Keitaro, each of whom found themselves fighting the effects of a blow that had caught them totally by surprise and rattled them to the core.
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Ah, that feels better. I just fixed the last scene. Up until this chapter, my process for producing this thing has been five minutes of pondering, anywhere from four to seven hours of writing, and then one minute of posting. Now, starting with this chapter, I've added a new step: wait an hour or two, then go back and re-read the damn thing. It's amazing what can be caught and fixed when you do that... I thought the first ending I wrote for the chapter felt wrong, and after re-reading it, I figured out that that was because it was wrong. Anyways, all is now well with the world, I've written my sixth chapter... (just need to figure out a name for it before I post it. Chapters 1-4 I named before writing, and now I'm doing the reverse) My muse has just announced her coffee break, timed perfectly to give me the chance to save my econ grade from it's downward spiral, and so I probably won't be writing anything for at least... oh, a few days?
Thanks for the reviews thus far, keep them coming, yadda yadda yadda. You all know the spiel by now, I'm sure you're getting sick of hearing it. Oh, and those of you who've put my story on your author alert list and haven't reviewed yet - yes, I know you exist. Thank you, for your wonderful stats page, and for giving me the power to heckle those that think they can just read my fic without giving anything back! GRRR! Seriously though, please, if you enjoyed my fic, write a review! Even if it's only a sentence or two, it's good to know that what I'm doing is appreciated.
That's all for now. Catch you on the flip side!
Vagonnoth