Begun: 04.18.03

Finished: 07.25.03

"Never Change"

"You're jealous, aren't you?"

Sora Takenouchi shook her short red bob and bent over a display-case of cut flowers; she turned on her smile full-blast and tilted her head. "The white is my favourite, personally, but the yellow is nice too. I'm not sure if I'd go for red. It's a secret but-" she lowered her voice and leaned forward, "-they're out of season and wilting."

"Sora, you're jealous. Just answer me." He was infuriating, and she was going to block him no matter what; just turn your back, and there you go Takenouchi, just like at soccer practise: no Taichi.

The short, plump woman shook her head. "But I like the red, even if they are wilting." Sora just rolled her eyes.

"Well, you can still have them if you want, I just meant…."

"Do you think red roses might stand for jealously, Sora?"

The plump woman eyed the brown-haired teen suspiciously, and sent a general glare in his direction; "I'm not sure if wilted flowers are right for a funeral, you know, but I hate white and yellow…."

"Did he die of jealousy?" Sora could just feel Taichi grinning behind her, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of turning around; she just swatted the arm that snaked its way around her waist, and hissed "Go away". She had a customer. She didn't feel like playing games with Taichi.

The woman sucked her breath in, and turned heel, apparently irked by the comment. With a flourish and a 'harrumph' she walked out the door: "Well maybe I'll take my business elsewhere, a place where they don't have wilted red roses." The glass door gave a final ding as it shut behind the woman.

Sora turned on Taichi, hit his arm, and narrowed her eyes. "What did you do that for?" she hissed venomously.

With a shrug, Taichi leaned against the counter and ran his fingers through his hair. It was strange how he could remind her so much of Yamato when he was like that. "I'm trying to talk to you. It's important."

Rolling her eyes, Sora turned her back on him and looked out the window, the grey, rainy day outside mirroring her soul. "What do we have to talk about? My emotions are none of your business, and besides… you have no right to talk to me when you get obnoxious like this. I have work."

Sora closed her eyes and waited a moment before she felt familiar rough hands on her bare shoulders, and she shivered. Her resolve was melting away as quickly as it had built up. A soft voice whispered in her ear; "No one's going to come to the shop tonight, it's pouring. Close it down and come for dinner with me. I really do want to talk with you."

She used to be able to resist his annoying charm; she used to be able to be strong, and say no to him. For the eighteen years she had known him they had been best friends, and were always equal; they didn't pressure each other, they didn't fight. And now, suddenly, she was rendered helpless by the paralysing voice beside her.

It was funny what growing up did to a person.

With a glance at the rain outside, a swift look around the flower shop, colours mixing and blending, giving her a headache, terrific smells overwhelming her, she made a quick decision. "Grab the 'Sorry, We're Closed' sign in the corner and hang it on the door, inside." She made a quick grab for the keys, and a moment later the two eighteen-year-olds, blinded by the downpour, ran down the street, jackets pulled over their heads.

Years ago when they were carefree and didn't have anything on their minds, the best friends would have been laughing and jumping in puddles, not caring about messing up their clothes. But now laughter had been whisked away by the ghost of a friend, and Sora's heels prevented her from jumping into a puddle. Ever since she had donned the clothes of a working woman, their childhood spent together, always together, had taken a backseat; they were alone.

Alone or not, Sora felt the hand of Taichi slide into her own; he held open the door of a café, open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week; with a chuckle, he pushed his mass of brown mop from his forehead and tucked a stray crimson piece behind her ear. It was crazy, the little things he would do for her; blinded by love, how could he realise she wasn't smiling?

There was the maitre'd, showing them to a booth next to the window; Sora shook her cap of hair, brushed the fringe off her forehead, and shook her head in distaste at her seemingly-ruined leather before delicately denting a plastic cushion and placing her purse beside her. Taichi plopped into the bench opposite and grinned, picking up a worn green-and-gold menu.

Sora didn't smile, nor did she scan the menu. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

"Try the chicken, it really is delicious." Taichi reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash; he frowned before gazing at the choices a second time.

Sora sighed. "Taichi, look, I could be back at the shop. I don't have time for…" he glanced out the window at the steadily increasing rain. "Guessing games," she finished.

Taichi lowered his menu, all traces of a grin gone. "You really don't want to be here, do you?" In the old days he would have expected her to make up some excuse that really wasn't an excuse; "Mother counts on me at the store," "I need to be home by five."

Now she didn't: just laid it on him with no warning. "No; I don't want to be here."

He sighed, ran his fingers through his hair again; Sora meant to take his hand, stop the irritating habit, but caught herself at the last minute. Taichi didn't need her babying; he was a grown man, at nineteen, and she wasn't his girlfriend, or his mother… or even his best friend. She was just… there.

And people who were just there weren't important.

"Look Sora…" He broke off, and tried again. "Sora, I… I know you don't want to be here. But…" He went on, slowly, carefully, as if choosing his weapons of choice and waiting for the crossfire. "Please just order something, pretend we're having a nice time, pretend we're getting along. I do need to talk to you." He turned his eyes to her, bit his lip. She gritted her teeth and nodded.

"If you really aren't going to leave me alone, I guess I have no choice." In the old days he would have laughed, and she would have laughed, and gazed at her like there was no one else in the world he loved more. She would have glanced back, and looked away, and they both would have turned red from the blushing.

Now they just said nothing.

Taichi ordered the chicken… and Sora ordered fish. Taichi questioned her choice, per usual – "Fish? You can have fish everyday, the chicken is excellent…" – and Sora just snapped back, "I'm trying to lose weight." End of conversation.

Taichi acted like she slapped him… but didn't say anything more. He just looked down and started scratching at the table with a fork; back and forth, back and forth… things were monotonous, things went on and on… but then why was his life suddenly spiraling out of control?

"So?" Sora broke into his thoughts. She always had a way of doing that, even when she wasn't near him at all; she just entered his mind, pushed everything else out, and he was blissfully content to spend the rest of his waking moments dwelling on her. He was in love.

"So what?" He chanced a smile at her; she didn't return it.

"So what did you want to talk to me about? I don't have all day…." She rolled her eyes and looked back out at the rain. "Look, if it's about Hikari and Takeru…."

"No!" he said quickly, too quickly; she narrowed her eyes at him. He lowered his voice and his raised hands. "No, I wanted to… to talk about us." He was pleading now, without even knowing.

"What about us?" Looking anywhere but at him, that's what she was doing: carefully avoiding eye contact. He couldn't take it; why was she always like that lately?

"Sora, you know what about." He reached for her hand, and she pulled away. She was always pulling away.

Biting her lip, she looked back out the window and started drumming her fingers of the tabletop. "No I don't know, nor do I care."

"Sora, about us! What happened?"

She glared in his general direction; he thought he caught tears in her eyes, but couldn't be sure; she was always glossy-eyed and beyond caring. With a shaking voice, her manicured nails still hitting the table rhythmically, she managed, "Nothing happened to us. We're still the same people we were."

"Bullshit, Sora!" He earned reproving glances from several customers and ducked his head, lowering his voice. "We changed when Yamato happened to us." The sound of nails-on-wood was driving him crazy.

It was almost as if he had sworn worse than he did; Sora just said, in the same, maddeningly calm voice she had been using with him, the same voice so devoid of any emotion she may have once felt for him or Yamato, "Don't talk to me about him."

Taichi sat there for a minute, not saying anything; he just watched her watching people pass by, unaware of anything, laughing and giggling. He noticed tears welling in her eyes, was all too tuned into the thump-tap-tap of her fingernails. Just seconds passed before he closed a hand over hers, cutting off the sound. He looked up at the bumpy ceiling, not at her; she looked out the window.

It was like she wasn't even in the same world, but he tried anyway. "Sora, I think we have to talk about it."

"No, we don't." She was so matter-of-fact, so… uncaring. It was like nothing mattered anymore, like he, Taichi, her once-best friend in the world, was now a stranger, a stranger who didn't know anything about her and couldn't help.

Well, he could. And he would.

"Sora… I know it's hard, what 'Kari said, but-"

"Look, I don't care!" Her eyes, once so warm, were scared, vulnerable… yet impassive. They gave nothing away. "Just... I don't care, alright Taichi? I don't want your help, and I don't care." He felt her hand move out from under his, and she looked down at the tabletop as the waitress came up and left their food with them. Suddenly, it was as if Taichi had lost has appetite, as if his stomach had fallen out from inside of him.

He stared down at his steaming chicken, shook his head; she was staring similarly down into her plate of fish, but they were a world, not a table length, apart.

"Sora… it isn't just that you don't care about 'Matt anymore, is it?"

She sighed. "No, that's not it at all."

It pained him, but he asked it anyway; "You know that we've changed, don't you? And when you changed… you became different… and because you don't want my help, you mean…."

"Yea, Taichi." Sora stood up delicately, placed a few bills on the table, grabbed her jacket and purse: "I don't want your help… I don't want you… so just leave me alone, all right?"

As she walked out, Taichi could do nothing but sit; sit and wonder what went wrong, when she stopped thinking of him as a friend, when she started to grow up… when she fell in love with Yamato. He knew she loved him, that much was sure… and he knew that was what was pulling them apart.

That was why the news of Hikari's baby was hitting him so hard: Sora loved Yamato, and that was what had kept her with the group; but now that Sora found out how unfaithful he had been she was ready to drop him, no matter how strong her love was: She was ready to sever all ties with everyone else who was once her friend.

Well, Taichi loved her, and he wasn't about to let go of her the way she had let go of Yamato.

He left his bills on top of Sora's and followed her out of the café; even so, his seconds' hesitation left her half a block ahead. "Sora! Sora, wait a minute!"

She looked back, disgust etched into her features; she looked a lifetime older, a lifetime sadder. "Taichi," she called back, "give it up!"

"No! I know what you're doing, and believe me, you haven't outgrown us yet!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" She was just standing in the rain, standing and letting him catch up to her. Raindrops fell from her hair, made her a copper beacon in the world of water. He stopped, feet ahead of her; she just shook her head.

"Sora, we've shared our whole lives, and I'm not just letting you go now because you want to run away from Yamato and the stupid problems." She tried to speak, but he took a step closer and put a wet finger to her lips. "I'm not smart – hell, you know that better than anyone – but I'm smart enough to know that you can't just run away from your problems. And you can't just ditch years and years of friendship because things get tough. Deal with it, Sora!"

Eyes flashing, she took a deep breath. "Taichi, would you shut up? You don't know how I'm feeling! You don't know what's going on! Just because your sister screwed my boyfriend you think that makes you the center of everything, that you're so special. Well, guess what! This doesn't include you anymore. Leave me alone."

"No." He took a step closer.

Her voice trembled now. "Taichi, leave me the f—"

"I said no, dammit! I will not leave you alone, because you're just going to run away from everything! This isn't just about Hikari and Yamato, this is about all of us… this effects all of us, no matter how you see it. We all learned Yamato's not perfect; we all learned no one can stay perfect forever. Everyone but you learned that, because you expect us to be perfect little kids all our lives."

He paused, took a breath; the tears in her eyes were back, but they were angry, hurt. "Well, we're not going to be like that forever, and when you're someone's friend, you accept that. Or you should accept that, anyway." Sadly, he continued, "Nobody's perfect, but you just can't see… you can't see that we're worth it even if we're not perfect, can you, Sora?

"But we love you anyway, even if 'Matt screwed himself up and lost you, and you decided you don't want the rest of us. We love you: I love you!" Sora just cocked her head.

With the drops running down her face, ruining her leather jacket, soaking her working-girl clothes, he didn't recognize her. This was just like the fights that had had when they were little, the tiny fights they would sweat out and make up… but somehow, it was different. They had changed, both of them, and he knew, in the end, this fight wouldn't be the same way as it always was. He reached out to touch her, make sure this was real and not some fantasy trip in his mind; but she pulled away and shook her head.

"Guess what, Taichi?"

'Guess what, Taichi?' She had said that to him so many times then they were younger. He would reply, 'What, Sora?' and she would hug him: 'You're my best friend, that's what. My best friend forever.'

He knew, even before he spoke the words, that the answer was going to be different. "What, Sora?"

"Sometimes it doesn't matter how much you love a person. They just have to become shadows of the past, because that's what friendships do: they fade." She paused and smiled sadly, bitterly; tears were in her eyes, and it occurred to him how much he made her ready to cry. "Taichi, it doesn't matter how much you love me, or 'Matt does, or how much I supposedly love 'Matt."

She started to walk away, swinging her purse, hair limp, but turned around when Taichi called to her in a voice strangled with tears. "You never said if it matters… if you love me."

She couldn't smile anymore, but ducked her head and looked at the ground, shrugging her shoulders. "No," she said, softly, carefully. "That doesn't matter either."

It took Taichi half a minute to wipe his eyes free of tears, to stop the flow from coming and leaking out into the rain.

By then, she was gone.

-

Yamato threw his head back and raked a hand through his golden locks: sighed, frustrated. He swung the microphone around, placed it next to him on the keg. "I don't like the lyrics, guys."

"You don't like 'em cos you can't sing 'em." Tall and skinny with jet black hair, Yoshi, the bassist and the songwriter for The Teenage Wolves, always stood up to Yamato, no matter what, even when he knew Yamato was right. That was just the way they went, in terms of friendship.

"I think they're okay. Could use a little work… 'Think' is so blasé, such a common song…" Yamato shook his head while Keith struck a chord on his guitar and hummed for a moment. "But all in all they're fine. I don't know why you can't sing them, but I think Yoshi is right."

"Damn straight I am."

Yamato shook his head. "I don't like them."

Tenshi shook his red locks and readjusted his mirrored sunglasses. "Whatever. You don't have to like them, just sing them. Quit being a stick up the ass."

"Right." Yoshi filled a cup and thrust it in Yamato's direction. "Have a beer. It'll loosen you up."

Yamato took a sip as Tenshi seated himself at the drums and Kenji hit some keys. "Piano's out of tune, but if we got a keyboard we could fix that problem easily." Tenshi grunted.

Yamato stood. "Guys, look, these lyrics… 'Something might be between us… But all I can think of is you… And there's nothing in this world, you know I haven't heard… But it's strange to think, that thinking's all I do… and it's all for you.' That's crap."

"How the hell would you know?" Yoshi lit up a cigarette and took a swig from Yamato's cup. "What do you know about it? You always think of that one girl, what's her name, the redhead…"

"Sora?" Keith supplied.

"Yea, her."

"I don't." Yamato took his drink back but only stared into the cup.

Tenshi laughed. "Man, that's bull. Your head's always in the clouds, and she's the girl you're goin' with. You planning when you're going to sleep with her or…"

"Shit, you don't know what you're talking about. I need a cigarette," he added, holding a hand to his head.

Kenji, quiet as ever, passed his to Yamato, who took a puff and ground it out with his boot. Keith put his guitar down and sat next to Yamato; he put a hand to his shoulder. "Then what is it? You haven't been yourself lately… Is something wrong at home? Did Sora break everything off?"

"No! Nothing's wrong at home…"

Tenshi grunted again. "Takeru called yesterday. He only calls when something big's wrong. Sora's cheating, isn't she?"

"No, I was!" Yamato jumped up and paced amidst catcalls from Tenshi and Yoshi. Keith looked down at the ground. "Now she's pregnant."

"Who, Sora?"

"No, Taichi's sister, you dumb-"

"Don't take it out on Tenshi, man," Yoshi said.

Yamato sat down next to Keith again, reaching for his cup, but Keith pulled it but of his reach. "Then why aren't you with her right now? Or at least at home, working this out there?"

"Because I told Takeru I didn't care."

"They're your friends back there, you know. They care about this, and things are probably falling apart for them." Kenji surprised the others with his sudden proclamation.

"You guys are my friends too. I'm not going to let things fall apart for you… and besides, I really don't care." Yamato picked up his microphone. "Forget I said anything about the lyrics. They're fine." Kenji and Keith exchanged a look and Tenshi moved behind the drums.

Yoshi bent down for his cigarette pack and let his black hair fall in front of his eyes. "Yamato can't go. Who else will rag us about the lyrics?"

Tenshi laughed and Keith smiled, but Kenji just shrugged.

"It's up to you, man. But all that should be worth more to you than some stupid band that'll never amount to much." Kenji downed his cup before he walked out the door.

"Problem child," Yoshi muttered.

"Girls like angst and problems, maybe he should write the lyrics…."

"So we can deal with more problems…?"

Yamato felt a headache coming on.

-

Mimi sat on her pink comforter, stretched her legs toward her pink ceiling, and lazily reached a hand to snap off her pink alarm clock. It was midnight, but for another night she became an insomniac, and rolled on her bed, looking out the window.

It wasn't as if New York was boring – actually, it was quite the contrary! There was always something to do, someplace to go… but that was the problem, she thought. There was nothing fun to do. Even shopping was beginning to lose its interest to her, and she was Mimi Tachikawa, Shopping Queen of all Japan!

There just wasn't anything to buy. She didn't need anything, and no birthdays were coming up… to tell the absolute truth, she really just missed her Odiabah friends that she could call at this time at night and have a nice, long chat. She couldn't do that with her friends here; they'd never forgive her for cutting into their beauty rest for another day at Pothier's Academy.

She sighed and rolled over again. There was just nothing to do, no one to see… and she imagined the pink princess phone ringing by her bedside, that's how bored she was… bored but not tired, but still dreaming of a phone ringing….

Wait just one second! It was! She snatched the receiver off the cradle: "Hi?"

"Ossu? Mimi?"

Well, she knew it was the middle of the night and she was speaking English, but really, did she seem that different? "Ossu! Koushiro?"

"Hai! Mimi, we have a problem, and you have to come back right away."

Mimi sat up straight and clutched the receiver, careful to keep her voice down and not get hysterical; her parents were just in the next room. "Okay Koushi'-chan, who died?"

"Iie! No one Mimi!"

She let out a sigh of relief. "Then what's so important? Did you miss me…?"

She could tell he was blushing on his end of the line. "No- I mean, of course! But it isn't just that. It's Hikari."

"What's wrong with her?"

There was a pause in which Mimi felt herself preparing for the worst possible scenario and then… "Well, she's pregnant."

For a minute Mimi didn't say anything; then she laughed. "Is that all?"

"What do you mean, 'is that all'?"

Rolling her eyes, Mimi got to her feet and pulled a suitcase from under her bed. "Girls here – pregnant all the time! I can deal with this, even if she can't… but I need to get back right away! When's the next flight out?"

Mimi had a feeling he had anticipated this question, and was quiet for a minute while she heard the tapping of his laptop keys. He hissed, "Yes!" – Mimi smiled and paused her packing. "Next flight – for you – 6 a.m. It's so expensive!" He quickly relayed the price to Mimi and she shook her head.

"Not a problem. I've got to be there for 'Kari!" With a flash, she was packing and muttering all sorts of nonsense: "Hairbrush… toothbrush… underwear's always good… damn, I'll have to make due without that push-up…"

"Right. Look, Mimi, I have to go, I'll arrange a ride for you, okay?"

"Fine, right, fine. Arrange a ride, will you?"

Koushiro sighed. "Will do. I'll see you soon, all right?"

"Okay, Koushi'. Love you," she added absently before hanging up.

Koushiro stared into the receiver, afraid he would become one giant blush. "Love… you too…."