Authoress here. Still. I never left.

Seriously.

START CHAPTER

Alira was confused. The recipe said to add one cup of flour, but then it changed to two later on in the recipe. Which was the typo? She sighed and shook her head at the book. How was she supposed to make muffins for breakfast when she didn't know how much flour to add?

She glared at the recipe book before slamming it shut to find another one that had the recipe for banana nut muffins. She opened another book and flipped the glossy pages to the index. Blueberry muffins would have to do, and it was entirely possible, considering Yuki seemed to always have fresh fruit tucked away in his refrigerator somewhere.

By the time she had put the first batch into the over, Yuki was already hard at work on his book. He seemed to be spending a considerable amount of his time typing away on his laptop.

Shuichi had come back early in the morning and was almost asleep before he reached his room, so she wasn't really expecting him to wake up any time soon.

Brushing the pieces of shorter hair that had fallen from her ponytail back behind her ears, Alira leaned back against the counter to wait for the muffins to be done. She had promised herself, after the pancakes and eggs incident, that she wouldn't burn anything else that she was to serve to Yuki and Shuichi. Becoming a good cook was on her list of things to do before she died.

A knock on the door caused her to swear. If whoever was there distracted her and the muffins burned, she would give up making them and sulk for an hour.

She went to the door and opened it without thinking. A young policeman stood before her. She froze.

"Excuse me miss, you haven't seen a young woman about your age, I'd say, come past here?"

She blinked. With her red hair, he didn't recognize her? "Do you mean...what's her name? The Montosuwa girl?"

He nodded. "Yep. You seen her?"

Alira shook her head. "No, I haven't. Why? She's not in this area, is she? I heard she was armed and dangerous."

"Who the hell is at the door?"

Shit. Perfect timing, Yuki, she thought sarcastically.

"Tell them to go away!"

Alira flushed a little. "Umm...sorry about him. He's not in a good mood right now."

"Your husband?"

"Husband? Oh, God, no! I'm his maid."

The officer laughed and nodded. "Well, thanks anyway. If you see her, be sure to call the cops."

She nodded right back and offered him a very fake smile before shutting the door.

"Holy shit," she whispered, leaning her back against the door.

"Who was it?" Yuki had given up shouting since she hadn't answered, and had even gone so far as to bring his laptop with him when he came to find out for himself.

Alira put a hand to her collarbone. "It was a cop. He didn't recognize me since I'm a redhead again."

"Dumbshits," Yuki said, taking a seat on the couch. He balanced the computer on his lap, and resumed typing.

Alira watched him for a moment until he noticed her and closed the laptop. "You're getting on my nerves."

"Sorry."

Yuki sniffed the air and made a face. "Is something burning?"

"Shit!" Alira dashed into the kitchen and used a pair of oven mitts to pull the pan of muffins out. She set them on top of the stove to cool, tossed the oven mitts onto the counter, and left the room.

Yuki fanned the smoggy air as he went into the kitchen, and saw the tray of muffins. He took a knife from a drawer and prodded one of the muffins. It crumbled like a charcoal briquette, and a pathetic shriveled blueberry stuck to the tip of the knife. He tossed the knife into the sink, blueberry and all, disgusted by the burnt mess. It probably wouldn't come out of the pan and he'd have to buy new ones.

Alira, true to her mental promise, had headed upstairs to sulk. "Stupid cops. Stupid muffins." She examined a burn on her right hand from her reckless handling of the pan. "Stupid cooking."

She was sitting, leaned up against the wall, in the hallway. When Shuichi came out of his room, yawning widely, Alira moved her legs out of the way so he could pass by.

He said something that sounded a bit like "good morning," but he was yawning when he said it, so Alira wasn't exactly sure.

Shuichi staggered sleepily down the stairs and into the smoky kitchen to find Yuki with his back turned, opening a window to air out the room.

Shuichi crept up behind Yuki, slipped his arms around his waist, and stood on his tiptoes to nibble his ear. Yuki turned around to deliver a kiss to his teenage lover.

"Sleep well?" he murmured.

Shuichi nodded against Yuki's strong chest, having not relinquished his grip.

"What's that smell?" he asked a moment later.

Yuki gestured to the unappetizing mess on the oven. "Muffins."

"Alira?"

"Yep."

"I'm going out for awhile," Alira called a second later. "Be back later!"

"How much later? I'm not cleaning up that mess you left in the kitchen."

A door slamming shut answered Yuki's reply.

"I think you pissed her off," Shuichi commented.

Alira crossed her arms as she wandered aimlessly around. She figured that if one policeman hadn't recognized her with her red hair, none of the others would either. She doubted her father knew her hair wasn't naturally black, so she wasn't in too much danger. It was rush hour for people headed to work, so it took a bit longer to get around, but Alira didn't mind. It was just more people for the police to look at and consider. They would ignore the redhead.

As she passed by a tall building downtown, Alira came to the realization that she had no idea where she had wandered. She cast a glance around her, growing slightly worried. People bumped into her when she slowed down, so she veered off the sidewalk and stood out of the way while she contemplated where she was.

Maybe if I keep going, I'll see something familiar. Following that thought, Alira moved back in with the mass of people heading to work.

Nearly an hour later, Alira was even more lost. Her feet hurt, and she was in a part of town she had never seen before. To top it all off, she couldn't call Yuki since she didn't know his phone number. Since he was famous, he wasn't listed in the phone book. Calling the police or her father wouldn't help either, and all her close friends lived in America.

"Great," she muttered, sinking down onto a bench. "Just wonderful."

"Can I help you with something, miss?" She turned to see a man older than her by maybe two yearsslide onto the bench.

"No, I was actually just leaving."

He caught her by the elbow as she started to stand up. "You sure? You look lost and kinda lonely to me."

She tugged her arm away. "Leave me alone."

He grabbed her around the waist and brought her close, like he was about to kiss her, and pulled a knife from the inside of his jacket. He showed her the glinting blade before he put it away and hissed, "Don't say a fucking word or you die, bitch."

She swallowed hard before nodding. She allowed herself to be steered off the sidewalk and to a parking lot, where he kept hold of her with one hand and pulled open a car door with the other. "Get in."

When she didn't move, he unsheathed the knife. "Get in," he repeated more firmly.

Alira exhaled shakily, then climbed into the backseat. The man sheathed the knife and tossed it, along with his jacket, into the front seat. Then, he joined her in the back.

"You know what's coming, don't you?" he asked, reaching out to brush a wisp of hair off her cheek. She slapped his hand away.

"I can make a guess."

He chuckled. "I love it when they fight back." He reached over and placed a hand on her cheek, sliding over to be next to her. "You got a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Then nobody's gonna care if do this." He used his free hand to press her against the back of the seat as he pressed his mouth over hers. His tongue forced its way into her mouth.

Before she knew what had happened, he was straddling her as she lay on her back in the backseat of the car. He slipped a hand underneath her shirt.

"No!" Alira pushed against his chest as hard as she could, but couldn't get him off her. He caught her wrists in one hand and held them.

"You're not strong enough," he muttered, a devilish grin creeping its way onto his face. "Why don't you just calm down?"

The knife. I have to get the knife.

"Don't even try it," he said calmly as she struggled to get her hands free and grab the knife. "I'm stronger than you."

He placed his mouth over hers again and kissed her forcefully. His hand snuck under her shirt again.

I can't fight back.

He slipped his hand underneath her bra.

I'm scared.

"Help me," she whispered, tears sliding down her cheeks. "Someone."

He chuckled. "No one can hear you except me."

"Get off!" she cried, thrusting her knee into his groin.

Angered, he caught hold of her hair and twisted it around his fist.

She slapped him as hard as she could when she realized he had dropped her hands, leaving scratch marks from her fingernails. Shocked, he let go of her hair and jerked back.

"Bad move," she cried, lunging forward and seizing the knife. She tugged the sheath off and pointed it at him, using her other hand to fix her shirt and pull the binder from her hair.

She felt behind her for the door handle and unlocked it as he sat and watched, thoroughly taken aback.

After she was out, Alira slammed the door shut, dropped the knife, and ran as fast as she could away from his car. She didn't know where she was running to besides away from him.

It was growing darker quickly as she ran along, but she barely even noticed. When she was out of breath, she gripped a light pole and panted, bent over.

"Alira?"

She straightened up to see Hiroshi on his motorcycle, tugging off his helmet and staring at her. When he saw the look of relief in her eyes, he pulled his motorcycle to the curb and dropped his helmet to encircle her in his arms.

"I don't know what happened, but you're safe now," he whispered, stroking her hair as she buried her face against his chest. "You're safe."

END CHAPTER

Did I make anyone cry? That would actually make me kind of happy, because that's what I was going for.

Authoress out.