Thorns by liahime
Eighteen Rose Hope
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon, darling.
She embodied grace.
The line from his mother's grave fell forward in his mind. Immediately, his mind turned on him. Here he was, standing shell-shocked and as frozen as a fool, thinking of epitaphs and sighing.
He had watched her as she wove in and out, fighting his brother, standing as frozen as a statue unable to cut in for fear of hurting her. And so he was pinned to the sidelines, rooted in place. Itachi found himself in the role of a spectator, silently wishing for her to survive. Rika had integrated herself into his heart, weaving in and taking a bit of his heart with her as she left.
In fact, one would think- and his heart knew- he was in love with her.
The battle had ended, and luck had let his little brother win once more, sunny-side up and landing squarely on his feet. Never better. Ryo was smiling now, Rika crying- they had reached their fairy tale ending. Happily ever after with no evil older brothers to spoil the plot. The two of them made a flawless circle, complete and full. Another person would only ruin their perfect balance.
He had to leave.
They were perfect together- a match made for two, and two alone. In the flickering light, there was something magical and bright around them- that he, in his life of blood and dirt, would never be able to match.
And he knew, as he watched the two of them, that he would not- could not- ever get to her heart as his brother did. The beautiful princess- yet another thing fate had handed to Ryo. There was no denying it- Rika was happy with him, far away from her anger at being tied up by the mysterious kidnapper. His heart ached, feeling as heavy as if it was cast in lead.
Why did his brother need to have her as well? Ryo could have anyone else. Everything else. He just wanted Rika. To have her was all he really needed now; his princess, his life, and he'd be one of the happiest in the world. Give him that, and he'd be fine.
It was better before. If you had no one to lose, then you couldn't lose a person, his brain told him. Just drop her and move on with life. You're an assassin, meant to be alone.
Behind him, a twig cracked. Itachi turned, listening. There was something wrong in the stillness of the air. There was something growing, coming closer and closer, like a wave of thunder was rolling in.
But the sky was clear. The snapping of hungry fire masked it, but that something was there. He stood silently, searching with his ears for the mysterious rumble. It had a steady, precise beat, like distant drums being pounded for war. The drumming moved closer and closer, until he realized what it was- Footsteps...
An army.
Choices flooded his brain. He could run, alone, and disappear before he was found. It was the most sensible thing to do- he'd cover more ground, escaping solo. The thunder of the army pounded closer.
He could tell Rika and Ryo, let them run to safety as he watched their backs, gave them time.
Though there were two choices, there was only one thing he could do.
A stupid, pea brained thing to do, letting his brother escape with his one true love, so that they could live happily ever after. He'd die, forgotten and alone, over his mother's burning grave.
He made his decision
After all... It was Rika's happy ending.
-
An arrow shot into the night, air bending back from its path as it flew into the clearing.
Priscilla ran forward, screeching as she plowed her way into her army. "Stop! It's me! Your princess!" Panting, she stumbled and pushed her way to the back of the army. Another volley of arrows cut into the air.
Arrowheads came raining down on them. Itachi lunged forward, slicing arrows as he spoke. "Run."
"No." Both of them had ducked the arrows, and had picked up their swords, heroic, brave, and undeniably stupid. The things legends were made of, of what bards sang about. But there was one thing that every one of these tragic heroes had in common.
They were all dead.
He turned impatiently to his brother and snapped at him. "Do you want her to die! She will, if you stay here!"
Rika stubbornly ducked another stray arrow, taking a stubborn step forward. "I'm fine." The army's ranks were spreading- more and more of the militia approached from underneath the trees. There were too many for three fools to survive.
He twisted his sword from Rika's grip. The metal flashed in the firelight, black crescents dancing into action. In a last attempt, he shouted to Ryo over the hiss of arrows. "Take her and go!"
Stubbornly, they stayed. Itachi gritted his teeth, turning to face the two. He muttered, concentrating on the inaudible words. A tiny dark sphere, like a circle of night, floated in his hands, growing into a human shaped bubble, it's translucent violet walls stretched taut. The assassin pushed it forward, sidestepping and letting the bubble envelope a struggling, obstinately foolish- or brave, there was little difference- and floated upwards.
Exhausted, Itachi pushed it high above the arrows, until it popped out of sight. He turned to face Ryo. Lines of gray had drawn themselves across his face, making him pale and haggard. "You really are stupid, younger brother."
"I know." Ryo ducked and sidestepped another arrow.
"It runs in the family. Ready?"
His brother struggled with killing. He had never had the nerve to end a life, human or ant. But still, he nodded. He wasn't just the baby brother who cried now- Ryo had grown up...
"Don't get yourself killed." Itachi whirled away, a gray shadow in the smoky morning light.
He fought. Action and reaction, swinging up and through. A crowd fell to Itachi. The soldiers, uneasy, began to back away, hustling their wailing princess to safety. Ignoring them, cut a path into the army, canine teeth glittering white. His mind floated away to Rika as his body fought on.
Itachi wasn't sure how long he could keep this up. Legs threatening to fold, he bought more time for Rika's escape. His arms ached, exhausted. The soldiers started to flee, rushing away into the forest. Itachi chased them in the direction opposite of Rika's, cutting more slowly with every stroke.
The last of the soldiers were gone, all fleeing from his sword. Itachi's eyes were clouded, bloodshot and tired. He staggered forward, and collapsed onto his back. His legs hurt more with every beat of his heart. Looking down, he saw that they had bloomed some strange red liquid- blood.
His blood.
Ryo was rushing towards him. Itachi dropped his black swords, letting them spin on the ground. The assassin's lungs slowed, letting his heart pump sluggishly on. His mind had floated away, out of his body, waiting for him.It knew before he did.
His brother was saying something, but his thoughts wouldn't concentrate enough to listen, instead going off, wandering to Rika where he had pushed her, in her violet bubble high above the fighting.
She embodied grace.
Itachi smiled, content, blocking out his brother, the fire, the world. He let his mind go.
His princess was safe.
-
Rika floated in her violet bubble, over a flaming forest of pine, annoyed. Itachi had sent her off alone, letting her worry about a million things, and stay helpless. People could have died. Itachi could have been killed. Ryo could be dead. Yes, she was safe, sent off to protect her life- but Rika was still imprisoned and helpless inside of her unbreakable bubble.
The bubble had been floating for a long time now, at the same excruciatingly slow pace it had started out. Over grass, over pond, over every bush there was at a snail's pace.
It was driving her crazy.
The violet bubble brushed the ground, crushing grass in it's descent. She urged it forward, directing it towards a thorny branch. It rolled over the thorns and- didn't pop. It rolled forward, crushing a bush, and onto the castle lawn.
Thorns covered the castle, wreathing windows and doors. Vines twisted over the steps, sending out tendrils to cover the main door. Huge, heavy buds brushed the glass of the windows gently, sending down a shower of velvety petals.
Roses.
They surrounded the castle, climbing up towers and bowing over from the weight of their flowers. A wisteria vine was choked with them, the pale roses eclipsing the leaves. She followed the trail with her eyes, following the maze of blooms. . A pale hand, clothed in a black glove, seemed to be their source- the vines twirled around it, shooting up from the ground and around towers to reach it. Each vine had stopped abruptly at the hand, hangingout ofone tower window
Her tower window.
Quietly, Rika crept forward, and peered through the thorns. Soldiers, dressed in West kingdom blue, lounged against the walls. Spear points lay flat on the stone floor. They threw dice and laughed loudly, talking about the demise of the kingdom.
One guffawed uproariously. He walked away, laughing, leaving Rika a clear view of what was behind him.
Her mother sat rigidly, tied to a throne, along with a host of servants and guests to the castle. Tapestries belled out behind them, used as tablecloths and blankets. Splintered tables were fed into a fire blazing on the stone floor. Seiko and Saruwatari sat tied against a pillar, both glaring and grumbling.
There was a rustling noise, feet crashing through the shrubbery. Caught off guard, Rika scrambled behind an overgrown bush. Holding her breath, she peeked over the leaves as the person crashed by.
Soldiers' shouts filled the air, a crowd gasping for air as they marched. Priscilla dragged slowly behind them, whining. The army rushed by, leaving Rika alone in the silence.
One guard, catching up to the rest stumbled over a tree root, crashing into the rhododendron
on she hid behind. Leaning as far back as possible, Rika inched away slowly, making as little noise as possible.
Pine smoke had drifted towards the castle. It sent its fumes into the air, coiling around the bush. The smoke stung her eyes, making her blink back tears. Rika stayed frozen, willing the guard to get up and leave.
The smoke curled around her as she desperately tried to stop herself from coughing. The soldier got up, complaining, and sprinted towards the rest of the group. In her relief, the cough snuck out of her mouth and into the still open air.
Priscilla froze. "What was that?"
"Nothing, your majesty."
"It's imperial majesty to you." She continued. "I heard it. A cough. Did any of you cough?"
"No, your imperial majesty."
It was too late. "Search the area anyways."
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Rika cursed her sneeze and began to crawl, staying out of sight. Her knees painfully met every thorn and pebble in her path. She winced and kept moving, away from the army searching for her only a few, shrinking feet away.
As she left the line of plants, and onto the manicured palace lawn, Rika bolted. She sprinted forward before a soldier looked her way.
It was too late.
A shout rose up as she leapt into the tangled maze of shrubbery. Let go long ago by the gardeners, it had grown at it's own free will, creating one twisting, dead-end filled path away. Rika ran, her breath coming hard and rushed to her throat.
A dead end blocked her path. She vaulted over the low-lying branch and kept running. The slower guards had fallen back; only a few stayed on her trail. They followed her, Priscilla screaming as they ran.
Rika's foot caught on a root that had made it's way out of the ground. She hit the ground, dust flying up as she fell. Grinning, a soldier towered over her, out of breath. He grabbed her wrists, pulling the princess up. "Thought you got away, did you?" Chuckling, the guard, Rika in tow, walked smugly towards the waiting group. "I got her, your majesty!"
Rika struggled against the tight grip on her wrists, willing her hands to shrink. The guard tightened his hold and pushed her forward. Priscilla smiled and brushed the dust off her gown. "Bring the girl here."
She was pushed forward. Priscilla smirked. "Now, what have we learned today?"
"Your hair looks much better with the trim. Even better with the spider."
Priscilla's hands flew to her hair, shrieking. "Get it out! Get it out!" She shook her hair, trying to dislodge an invisible spider. Soldiers, new to serving her, grinned.
She hit them with her metal-ribbed, battered fan. They backed off, muttering hasty apologies to their princess, and wondered why they had ever decided to join the army, grumbling to each other as theymoved away from her reach.
Priscilla tucked her curls self-consciously behind her ears, only to remember that they weren't there. Her hair was a ragged mass of lopsided ringlets, shorn to her ears. They flew out in a crooked, tangled blur as she whipped around to face her guards once more.
"What, I ask you, is so funny?" Her voice was rising.
"Nothing. You're as beautiful as ever, your imperial majesty." As they dutifully chanted, Priscilla saw her reflection in their armor. Her skirt was mud-stained, her slippers worn. She was pitifully drooping, and her purse was ripped. Lace was dangling off the edge of her sleeves by a thread. And her hair.
Her hair.
Priscilla boiled over. She shrieked, piercing the air with her shrill scream. "My beautiful hair!" Angry tears welled up in her eyes. "My hair is ruined! It's-" she took a deep breath, calming herself. "It's ugly!"
She turned from the people, and screamed, her body frozen in place. There was silence as her face burned and paled to a calm, cold mask. She turned to face them. Her eyes were hollow, angry sparks burning deep inside of them. Priscilla avoided Rika's stare.
Instead, she turned to the nearest soldier, and smiled sweetly, all traces of the scream gone. "Have her killed."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Have her killed, you fool." Her voice was chirpy and sunny, radiating happiness. "Have her killed as her kingdom comes to ruins, her family becomes nothing, and let her end up dying alone with everyone watching and not a person moving to save her."
Priscilla turned her head to the side, smiling at Rika.
"Kill her."
-
The kingdom was buzzing. The princess of the Middle Kingdom had been condemned, and the news was spreading. From bar to farm, peasant and lord, everyone knew.
Their kingdom was gone, and their princess would die. There was nothing they could do but wait, in nervous tension, to see how their life played out in the next few hours. West kingdom troops had stormed the country three hours from dawn. The palace was filled with soldiers and the new queen.
As most new rulers do, she planned to dispose of the former queens. Rumiko and Seiko were to be sent off into exile, and Rika- the princess- was, by royal proclamation, to be executed.
A crowd had gathered. They murmured and gossiped, chattering away. The dry air around them was tense, crackling with smoke from the burning forest. They waited, impatient. After all, it was their fate that was being decided, they argued. They had work to do, and they wanted to know their destiny so they could go home to properly mope.
Only one, a young man, tired and worn, remembered that though habits and taxes would change, the princess's life was on the line, walking a thin tightrope with no chance of survival. He was at the edge of the crowd, staying out of sight; another nameless face in the sea of people. He hated himself- for being a coward, for leaving his brother, for not having the courage to even walk into the crowd.
He was terrified.
Ryo looked down at the twin swords in his hands, borrowed from soldiers fallen. Itachi would have walked right in, his mind reminded him. Rika would have already done it. Hurry up- move! The time she has left is getting shorter and shorter-
His mind never got to finish. A tiny figure walked onto the platform raised above the crowd. There was no doubt- he could tell it was her, even from this distance, in the way she stood, the way she walked.
The iron gates shut behind her, grating and screeching in protest. A pair of guards led Rika onto the deck. Priscilla, angelic in silk, sneered at the girl below her. The princess stood on the deck , bound with chains. She stared straight ahead, into nothing and everything, blocking out the world.
She stood on the deck, legs chained, arms lose, head held high. The splintered wood of the worn block waited for her, in the silent, eternal patience of death. A man, dark masked and grim, held his silver axe upright, waiting. The girl faced death, head held high, waiting.
Storm clouds mixed with the raging smoke from the fire. Their kingdom had been captured. The palace grounds were burning. Their lives were about to change, plunging into a new world under a new rule. Yet still, the solemn crowd waited.
Ryo took a deep breath, and pushed his way forward.
-
"So, Princess - I mean, Miss Rika. If you have last requests-" The judge preceding over the ceremony asked her, avoiding Priscilla's piercing stare.. Rika glared back at her, eyes just as cold. The executioner grumbled as they stared, annoyed with the delay.
"I wish to leave alive, actually." She stood straighter for a moment, stronger and prouder, holding herself like royalty. She was cut and bruised, exhausted and pale- but there was no mistake. The girl standing before them, in silvery rags, was without doubt, a princess.
"Ah. That is not possible. But any message to deliver to one left behind?"
Rika's eyes swept the silent crowd, and saw what she didn't want to see. Her dethroned mother, her grandmother, her aunt. Takato, comforting a weeping Jeri, all surrounded by guards preventing their escape. The old guards she had grown up with - Kazu, the one with the chicken jokes. Kenta, who had been the only one to ever laugh at his friend's attempts.
But still- there was one person- the most important of them all- that was still missing. She lifted her chin up, letting the tears run back into her eyes. "No. Not really."
High above the huddled masses of people, the blonde queen folded her arms. One of the councillors at her side murmured, waxing poetic . "A tragic and bloody end, but her face is expressionless. No fear. She is a brave woman."
Priscilla hit him with her fan. "She is acting, you stupid idiot, acting brave."
"Then, with all due respect, she acts extremely well, your majesty," he said under his breath. "She acts very well indeed."
Rika stood listening to her rights, looking down at the block. She walked as they came to an end, down on the wood-splintered platform. It came to this. Dying. Alone. There were a million things she could say, but she couldn't think, couldn't decide on what her time would be spent..
But she had decided one thing. As she walked past, forgiving the executioner, as custom, there was a yelp. The black-hooded executioner jumped, rubbing his toe as the princess walked on. The ravens cawed, their laughter hoarse and guttural.
Rika kneeled at the worn block, head down. People shouted around her, cries of "save our princess" and "burn the witch" mingling in the air, with the sky. Thunder clouds rumbled quietly, rolling in waves across the dark sky.
The executioner moved his hands for a firmer grip on the axe, and moved her hair back from her neck. Rain started to fall in heavy drops, soaking the crowd gathered to see the end of their princess. They waited, unmoved by weather.
Gossip rustled among the impatient crowd. A bard began to sing the first notes of her death song, transposing a tune to a minor key. People picked up the chorus, singing along. Flowers were thrown- roses, ironically, picked off of the castle walls. The people were pushed back, but there were tears- tears - for her. She didn't think there would have been... But frankly?
Rika wished they would just shut up.
He wasn't there, after all.
The executioner pulled back her hair, lifted his axe, ready to drop it at the final signal. Priscilla began to recite - almost gleefully, gloating, one would think- the criminal's sentence. The ravens spun, cawing their cackling cries, laughing at humanity's foolish race, of love, of tears, of war
"She has associated with the assassins of monarchs, assaulted and injured heirs to the throne, and has acted in actions befitting one who practices the black arts. She is to be condemned here, on this day-"
Rika's face was emotionless, anger, sorrow, regret all pulled back and hidden behind her silent mask. She did not cry.
Why would she? Her throne, her family, the one person she had ever truly trusted, and even loved were gone. Her world was hollow, shattering at her feet. Life was merely a waiting period now, for death. Priscilla had won.
"Wait."
Someone strode through the crowd, parting the huddled masses like fish at the sight of a shark gliding through the water. Of course, holding two long swords will always help do that to a crowd.
"Give me-" He turned to address the judge. "time to speak."
The judge murmured discomfort. This wasn't done- but still, the official waited for him, silent.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the Middle kingdom." He bowed to them. Bowed to the fuming Priscilla. Bowed once more, and then-
he was on the scaffold with her. Like a magic trick- for perhaps it was magic- or merely speed and luck, sleight of hand- he merely appeared. Past the raised swords around her. The rain poured down, drumming the wood as the sky drummed it's own beat in rolling roars. There was something wild and dangerously set about his cold calm; thin ice masking a deep river of anger. The guards stayed still.
Nervously, the executioner edged away from the long swords. Rika was still bound, tied by metal chains. She looked up at him, glaring- but her eyes wouldn't- couldn't- convey the same ice they had before.
"You've gone mad, Akiyama."
"Gone sane. Not much difference."
An overeager West kingdom guard shot an arrow at him. It sped through the air, the air bending away as it shot towards his back. People shouted warnings to him-
He turned, hand out stretched and caught- caught, the crowd exclaimed- the arrow. People applauded, let out a tiny cheer, only to go silent again at the dangerous scrape of metal against scabbard.
"Do you really, truly want her dead?"
Murmurs broke out in the crowd, rippling as his words passed from person to person. Want her dead? Of course not. They were all decent people, they don't execute young women. But the law- the law-
"She's scum, she is.." One of the West kingdom guards called out. "Muddy scum of the streets pretending to be a princess." Priscilla flashed him a benevolent smile.
The crowd was buzzing. We don't want her to die. There is nothing we can do. They were helpless against the great law of the kings and queens. They have been. Always. To upturn the order of that is to turn life on it's head- impossible. There is nothing we can do, they said sadly. Nothing
"Killing her is killing the one- and only one- I have left in this world." He grinned at them, a shark's smile echoing Itachi."And you don't want to do that."
"You are surrounded, outlaw." Priscilla called out. "You will die after her death."
He looked up at her. "But how many of your guards, do you think, I will be able to take with me?" The guards closing in on him stepped back, readying shields.
Priscilla, from her high up silk throne, glared at the unfortunate soldiers. She raised her voice to a piercing half-shriek. "Do you take an assassin's word? You won't all die. Go!" She gestured to the guards. Not one moved, rooted to the spot.
"What do you think you're doing?" Rika whispered to him from the corner of her mouth.
"I don't know. Improvising, for now." He whispered back, grinning sheepishly.
And for some reason, in the pouring rain, she laughed. For sheer ridiculousness, for relief, for the unexpected. For hope. Still kneeling, waiting for death, her laugh rang out, sending hope rising into the air.
"Stop laughing! Makeher stop laughing!" Priscilla's hoarse screams fell on deaf ears. The crowd was an audience, spellbound.
And he raises her up with him, standing in the rain falling down, soaked. She was in his arms- the crowd was buzzing, buzzing- Priscilla was screaming, in hysterics- guards were waving their swords, arguing, and choosing to fight for their kingdom, their princess- storm rushing- utter chaos-
Yet the princess and the outlaw, standing up there on the raised scaffold, didn't seem to care.
For as they came closer and closer together, the storm sky slowed, and there was nothing but the other person there..
In that moment, there, on the scaffold, standing among the fallen roses and thorns, in the chaotic, messy glory of it all- the crowd, life, death- all was forgotten.
They kissed. Long, slow, and as sweet as the sunshine peeking out between clouds, lighting up the rain that still pours down in a baptismal monsoon, sparkling around the two. Soft light starts to come through the cracks of the storm. A rain of sun-splintered diamonds comes down on them.
And the world cracked open
Two guards leap up with a training master and a seamstress close by. Two crowned women demurely begin to pick at the locks of their shackles, wishing to sprint up to the scaffold. A prince in chains draws his sword, holding back the guards- but it doesn't matter- for now the crowd rushes the guards, to join their princess, to choose life over death. They laugh as they run. It's a joyful revolution for love, for life, for hope.
A blonde girl screamed, alone and deserted as the rain poured down, making her tattered golden curls weigh down heavily as the diamonds in her stolen crown. Her crown had fallen away, trampled underfoot. No one noticed.
Certainly not Ryo and Rika. In the flow of the dancing chaos around them, they kissed once more.
After all, as hard as humans try for the perfect, planned life, where what happens merely happens, and stays carved in time. Where those who are doomed stay doomed, where princesses don't wield swords and assassins stay heartless. Where changes are drastic, and all come out for the good, with the evil overlord becoming a monk baking peanut brittle for the less fortunate.
Where outlaws and princesses could never even dream of ending up in a happily ever after...
Because sometimes, the book of life isn't meant to be prewritten, edited, revised, and tweaked to perfection before happening, and to run like a mechanical clock for time's eternity.
Sometimes, the pen is in your hand, the page is blank- and it is your choice of future. There will be ink blots, there will be rain, there will be thorns, but despite it all-
you forge your own future.
You choose your own destiny, your own life. You find your own hope in the storm.
And eventually, in tears and trials, thorns and sword- in living life day by day, in all of it's messy glory-
you will find...
Your Happily Ever After.
-
Amanda- I'm glad you like it.. Thank you very much. I'm glad you like Itachi.. He became my favorite OC in this story.
lady-snow- You were the inspiration, or at least, the motivation for this story's start. Now, a year later- (or so..) Happy birthday, lady-snow! (Latest birthday present, ever!)
Anna- Thank you so much for not ripping my head off, so I could continue and get better... Hope you feel better with your cold. Thank you tons!
DigiChick- Very glad you liked the hair-cutting part.. I liked it too. Thank you very much I got better really quickly after I last posted.
kunoichixxkanna- thank you very much! Sorry for the loong wait.
My Dream's Shadow- Thank you very much! You reviewed at just the right time, and made me start writing again (writer's block..)
kau-sama- my lovely editor-friend, kau-sama, who black-mailed me. Thank you for that, and your reviews.
Lil' Lilo- Thank you very much for waiting so long, and so patiently. Thanks again!
Zyzychyn- Ah.. I'm glad that the story was more clear now. I agree with you, I tend to do that (action in my head, not all written down..) Thank you for your help!
Mimitto- Thank you tons for your cheerful reviews I love them! Sorry (very!) for making you wait so long.. Again, I apologize!
Kari Minamoto- Thank you very much- I'm glad you liked it.
AzNAnGeL07- thank you.. You waited forever, didn't you... I'm really sorry.. Thank you!
Whitezetsu- Yay! Penguins do rock! I had writers block again, but I finally got over it and found time to write this.. Thank you!
Dolce Saito- Thank you for waiting so patiently. This time, the length of the wait is (probably..) not worth it.. But.. Thank you very much!
karika88- I have to write happy endings, always.. I feel so sad if the ending is sad. Thank you!
authoress comments:
I am so sorry that this update took so long, and even though I took over three weeks- almost four!- it still isn't exactly what you call spectacular writing. (I hope you like this and think it's OK.. I'm ( as normal ) worried for this update. ) Due to Christmas paparazzi relatives, computer breakdowns, and internet failures, I've had to write like mad and wait forever to post this installment of Thorns. (By the way.. should I write an epilogue for this?)
Here is Thorns. Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it, waking up early to write, doodling the next part of the plot on my science papers, and staying up late to conquer my frequent attacks of writer's block...
And looking back, it was one wonderful ride. I loved writing this, my first completed AU fanfic. 262 reviews! It amazes me every time I look at it. So many people, reading my story... I was so happy
Thank you reviewers, for staying with me. Through colds, through headaches, through loong update waits. Thank you for being there, cheering me up, motivating me to write more.
Thank you.
-liahime.