A/N: Hahaha, silly me, I forgot the title of this story. -- I know, HORRIBLE.

Disclaimer: See, Yu Watase has something I don't have: ideas.

Chapter 3: Beginning

Vietrose

"What?"

Jay rolled his eyes and repeated, "Congratulations, Mrs. Miaka, you have been chosen-"

"I heard what you said! What did you say after that?"

Miaka was not a happy child; Jay had promised her until ninth grade! Until ninth grade! He sat her down when she was just a wee, little girl and told her that she had to receive some sort of education. She was definitely put out... and then he told her that it was up to her whether she wanted to go to high school after that. She definitely remembered him giving her a choice, and she chose to not go. After all, high school was just about the most useless place to spend the next four years of your life, and there was absolutely no way she was going to spend her precious youth locked up in a study hall learning for her algebra test! There was absolutely, definitely, stick-in-the-mud way was she-

"You're going," Jay said. Miaka's mouth dropped open in shock, and then indignation took over. "What? No way!" she exclaimed heatedly. She swiveled around, her ponytail whipping behind in agreement, and made for the couch.

"Wait," he stood up. "But you got into a pretty decent school. Look-"

"No, I don't want to," she interrupted him, falling back onto the sofa. There it was, a familiar pounding on her temples. Lately, she had been having those whenever Jay tried to talk to her; it was a compound of frustration and annoyance that he was trying to enforce something onto her. Miaka pinched the bridge of her nose, wishing Jay and the headache would go away.

His mouth tightened into a small line at her tense posture; rebellious teenagers were so hard to deal with... "You need to go to high school and get an education, and from seeing last year's grades," he paused to stare pointedly at her, "you're pretty damn lucky a place like this accepted you."

"Either that, or the school is stupid," she retorted, her eyes still closed. The headache was taking on a more forceful grip, unfortunately...

"This is a pretty good chance for you, so you can go and make something of yourself, you know."

"Stop pressuring me."

"It's not pressure; it's good advice."

Miaka dropped her hand and scoffed, her eyebrows furrowing angrily; how unbelievable this man is! "Excuse me? It's not advice if you're telling me I have to go!" she argued. "I'm doing perfectly fine with or without an education!"

"And then what?" he challenged. "What if I'm not here? What if something happens to me, and you're left alone? How the hell do you expect support from someone who's buried five feet underground?" his eyes glittered, daring her to continue on with the spat. She remained quiet, her mouth twisting into an ugly scowl, and he took it she was somewhat listening. "Are you going to work at McDonald's for the rest of your life? Gonna become a construction worker? Bullshit! That's not going to get you anywhere where I am!"

She snapped, and her mouth moved on its own accord. "When did you decide to become a real parent, anyways? Whatever I do with my life, at least it'll be an honest living!" Then she heard her words, and she saw that Jay heard the words, too. The room was quiet as he wondered what had come out of her mouth, and she wondered what also had come out of her mouth. A slight sort of guilt descended on top of her conscience...

And then all hell broke loose.

"Oh, you-!" he muttered angrily, standing up too quickly; he lost his balance and ended up crashing on top the table and somehow managed to stay there. Miaka started from the couch, torn between helping him or running out of the house. "When I get my hands on you," he growled menacingly, patting wildly behind him.

"Now hold on a minute," she began placatingly, putting up both hands, but Jay would have none of it. "You shut up, you stupid cow!" he roared angrily, and she pricked at his choice of words. "All your life I have been taking care of you... I raised you off my own money, and I fed you and clothed you! And you go and you tell me that I'm dishonest? How dare you!" he yelled, his neck bulging. He finally found the cane lying beside the automatic water dispenser and leaned against it. "Get out, you ungrateful kid! Get out, get out, get out!"

The excitement and arm flailing involved too much movement for someone recently crippled, and Jay swore as he lost his footing and fell face foward; the cane flew out of his hand and landed several feet away, near the poker table. "Ah, dammit! I hope you're happy, kid," he said snarkily, flopping uselessly on the floor. "Not only have you decided to ruin your potential future and insult me, but you've also taken down a disabled person! What kind of person are you?"

Despite him calling her a cow, insinuating body harm, forcing her to do something she didn't want to do, and attempting to evict her out of his apartment, Miaka's heart went out to him. Half those things were true; he did clothe her and take her in as his own child. And even though issues with his work came now and then, he was a very good man.

Are you sure?

She froze, and her heartbeat thumped a little faster. Where the hell did that come from? There was no time for her to delve and prod at such a random thought, because Jay suddenly howled. "Augh! Dammit! Fuck the damn poker table! Fuck the damn house! Fuck fuck fuck..." And et cetera, et cetera...

Feeling ever so sorry for his woeful position, she sighed and shuffled over next to him, kneeling beside him. "Don't touch me, you idiot kid," Jay hissed, doing his best impression of a tantrum when she tried to get a good grasp on his arm. He swatted her hand away with his own, calloused one. "Don't touch me! I don't want your stupid rubbing off me! I don't want someone stupid helping me; I'm perfectly able aaaaaah!"

"Shut up, already," Miaka interrupted firmly, pulling Jay by the ear. Not to sound cruel, she was also supporting his weight on her shoulders, and he gratefully leaned against her, half-relieved and half in pain. Guiding him towards the trusty recliner, he sat down, rubbing his ear. "I could have done that if I wanted to," Jay said after a moment, and she rolled her eyes none to discreetly.

"Here's your cane," she said, picking it up and placing beside the armrest. "Is your foot OK?"

He made nonchalant noise, but squirmed nonetheless; it was his way of saying he was uncomfortable. "It'd heal a lot faster if I had some beer nuts to go with it..."

The room was quiet again as she padded into the kitchen; Jay turned his head, suddenly finding the battered yellow curtains so very interesting. Miaka not going to school was not a good thing; she needed this education more than she could know right now. A diploma meant many more jobs were open, and maybe she wouldn't have to work in this business anymore. He knew giving her the choice to choose whether she wanted to pursue her education was risque to begin with, but she was barely smart at the time. Jay had always assumed she would choose the right decision, which meant GOING, but then middle school became an unbearable hellhole for her... no friends, no social activities, no parties, no life. She seemed so isolated and so blase about her potential. Jay sighed loudly, rubbing his temples. When did the little kid get so rowdy and troublesome? When did she get so antisocial and aloof? She was always so quiet and subservient (although that really isn't a best way to describe anyone).

"What are you so worried about, old man?" a huffy voice demanded as an unopened bag of nuts fell across his lap. He jerked suddenly and caught her flopping onto the floor unceremoniously.

"You." It was the truth, anyways.

This time, Miaka sighed out loud. "Look, if you're so worried about high school, don't worry about it. I figure, I can always pick up my education later, you know? When I feel like it." She gave a cheeky grin. "There's always time."

The bag ripped open, echoing throughout the bare room. "No, there's not." He popped a few into his mouth. "Living with me is tough enough. I think there might be another one tonight; he's been hounding me for a while now."

Outside, she nodded curtly, but inside, she shivered. Another one? "This is the fifth one this month," she commented casually. "What's going on?"

"I dunno," he shrugged.

"But the last one got your knee."

"I'll live."

She looked away as Jay chewed on his snack thoughtfully, biting her lower lip anxiously. "I'm not going to school," she repeated again. The conversation was fast spiraling out of control and onto the topic about his work; she loathed his job. "We might have to move, though," he continued, ignoring her completely. "I think people are starting to wonder about stuff." Like the black trash bags.

"Where are we moving?" she absentmindedly scratched a bug bite on her thigh.

"Near your new school." He grinned slyly, very much proud of himself for being so cunning.

"What?"

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