I cannot believe Cerulean has already got some favourites and followers already! I was not expecting this in the slightest. Thank you so much for supporting it right from the get-go! Wow, I love you people.

Also, if anyone's currently playing Fire Emblem and have not made it past chapter 13, there are a bit of spoilers in here. Just a fair warning.

I can't wait to get further into the story now! I hope y'all keep reading, and please leave reviews if ya like it!

~Crimrose

Chapter Two

Friends

"How about this one?" Maho-chan asks me, holding the black bra up to my chest.

"Hm," I mumble, holding it flush to my chest. "I dunno. I like the style, but it doesn't look like it will fit."

She purses her glossed lips thoughtfully. "That's always the problem with you." She swipes it away with a little twirl, her curls bouncing around her face. "More for me, then! This is why I love shopping with you."

A day has passed since Dad came home. The only really good girl friend I made in high school, Mahoko Imai, is out shopping with me, as I'm looking for a new dress to wear for when I meet Dad's fiancée on Friday.

I can feel emotion bleeding down from my chest into the pit of my stomach. Fiancée. Of all things I thought Dad had to say that day, the concept of him getting remarried was not one of them. Honestly, I don't know how to feel. I could go and on, ranting about the confusing swirl of emotions congesting my brain and suffocating me, but I settle for resting in a state of shock. I want to be happy for him. I said I was happy for him when he told me, but my heart wasn't in it, and I don't know why. It's a mystery to me, why I'm experiencing such inner turmoil about it. So I chose not to give myself any time to agonize over it, hence why this shopping trip is meant to be a distraction as well as an expedition. Maho-chan (as she prefers I call her) had to make a pit stop at the lingerie store to start with, so that's where we end up. The distraction tactic is working; that black bra she held up to me, composed of merely tasteful lace and string? I really want it. I feel like crying, desperately searching for it in my size as she throws skanky pairs of panties at me.

"These are cute as hell," she gasps, holding up a pair with crabs fiercely holding up their claws plastered all over them. I stare at her with a startled grin on my face, wondering if she gets the joke. "What?"

Apparently she doesn't. I press my lips together and go back to swiping hangers along the metal rails, trying not to laugh. "Nothing at all," I say.

She frowns at me, swats me with the crab panties. "You're real cute." There is a glimmer of humour in her milky chocolate eyes, her short, pert brows reaching up to her forehead as if they can touch the sky. "We might have to look at bathing suits after this, as well. I only have the one for last summer. And ta-da!" She cries, gesturing obscenely to her chest. "I grew again! So take that."

I don't tell her that I did, as well. "Whatever you say," I tease, then gasp in delight as I find the black one in my size. My throat chokes up. "God wanted me to have this."

"Lucky girl. This is, like, one of the only times that's happened." She was right. The cutest bras just aren't made in my size anymore. What a sad world we live in. "Look at those ones over there." My gaze follows to wear her finger is pointing, to see a display boasting of the store's new line composed of primary colours. We stroll over to it leisurely, scanning through the other objects on the way, and up close they really are adorable, with crisscrossing ribbons tying the two cups together in the middle and satin straps. "Damn."

"These are cute," I say, which is what I say about basically every piece of clothing I look at, as I do care about how I look, but not an awful lot. It isn't like anybody's going to see what I have going on beneath my clothes; I have, after all, been single my whole life. The only colours left are a pastel pink or blue, and I mull over each of them, then decide that the blue matches my eyes better and add it to the small pile I have slung over my arm. Maho-chan and I check out, the cashier gushing over our choices (which seems kind of strange to me; why are you so awed about what's going over my boobs?), and exit the store with small bags hanging from our wrists.

"I wish I had time to change," she says, fingering the magenta kerchief on her uniform. I nod in agreement.

"'Hey, everyone'," I start to say in a mockingly deep voice. "'Students from Hinode Academy walking out of a skimpy lingerie store! Ooh, wonder what they bought today!'" Maho-chan snorts derisively, shaking her head, and we begin to move to the east side of the shopping center, where the swimsuit store is located.

"They would say that," she muttered, flipping her unruly curls away from her face. "Kids these days are so uptight."

"We're still kids ourselves, Maho-chan."

"Does it even matter? I'm referring to our age group, naturally. You see a girl shopping for bras and suddenly she's a floozy? Like, excuse me, I don't think you want to see my saggy boobs flopping everywhere."

I curl my lip at the vivid description. "Okay, that's enough of that. I know I don't want to see that, so let's just use me as the general consensus." She elbows me harshly in the side, earning a burst of laughter. "Have you beat Fire Emblem yet?"

She whirls to face me immediately, the mascara coating her eyelashes making her eyes seem even bigger and more unearthly, as is the intended purpose. "Naturally. How about you?"

I heave a sigh, digging in my purse to pull out my phone and check the time. "I'm still on Chapter Fourteen." As she opens her mouth into an outrageously large pink circle, I cut her off with the frantic waving of my hands. "You don't get it! I'm just trying to get all the future kids and make them OP by grinding for days on end. I'm basically invincible at this point." I look away from her, at the beige tile of the shopping center stained with dirty shoeprints, and grumble, "I'll get there someday."

She shakes her head at me in disappointment. "You're never gonna get to play Fates."

"Hey, I'm just an obsessive completionist, you know? I'd like to see you try and beat my team." I stick my nose up in the air, and Maho-chan warns me not to bump into anything – which almost happens, and I'm saved from crashing into an innocent bystander by her manicured nails digging into my arm and ripping me out of the way. When the victim is a safe distance away, we burst into chuckles that follow us into the bathing suit shop.

As I scan through varieties of one-pieces and bikinis, my mind begins to wander again to my father's proposal. I hadn't thought he had it in him to date again after my mother, let alone get married. He had such an infatuated gleam in his eyes, love practically dripping off his every word when he described her to me. Even though I had never experienced it myself, it's clear to see that whoever Miwa Asahina is, my father wholeheartedly loves her. I'm hurt he kept this from me for the longest time, only telling me when he was about to officially seal the deal. The way he'd phrased it made it sound like he won't get married to her if I'm opposed to it. However, I could never do that to him; what kind of demon would I be if I did? He's so happy right now, with his job and his family, that I can't even fathom stealing it all away just because I can't stand the thought of him with someone besides my mother, whom I'd never known. No, I'm not opposed to the marriage at all. It's just strange; it's like he became another person in the time he's known her, one that's slowly drifting away from me. I grip the smooth nylon of the bikini in my hand, my knuckles turning white against its deep navy colour. Is that all I'm afraid of? Having my father taken away from me?

I mull it over for a moment, then decide that's impossible. My father would never fall in love with a woman who would willingly steal his attention away from his daughter; he's far too kind and smart for that. My worries are completely groundless, I know, but a whole new family? I figure I have a right to be anxious. What if she doesn't like me? What if none of her children do?

"Is that the one you're getting?" Maho-chan blessedly interrupts my reverie. I look to her, to the few swimsuits dangling by their hangers from their fingers, and smile.

"No, I'm still looking." I paw through a few more choices, the monotony of the hangers scraping against the rails calming me slightly – and boring me. I can only go shopping for so long before I just completely lose interest, unless I'm shopping for books and games. I find a plain white number that won't stand out at all against the pallor of my skin, but I like the simplicity of it, then we're off to another store to find a dress.

I haven't told Maho-chan about my father yet. She's the type that loves any sort of gossip, no matter how small it may be, yet she never goes around spreading it – she merely likes being in the know. Even though we'd only met at the beginning of high school, she knows some of my deepest secrets – about how I think Juli talks to me and the like, because my secrets are few and far between. It's only natural that I tell her about this. I decide that the timing is right when I'm in a dressing room of a small clothing store, and she's in the stall beside me. I scan myself in the mirror, hesitating since I haven't come to terms with the subject myself yet, and call to her. "Maho-chan?"

"Yeees, Hina?" She sings her nickname for me, derived from the first part of my last name. I can hear her humming a song from the other side, and I lean my back against the mirror, staring at the burnt orange wall of the stall. An ad is plastered to it of a smiling woman with brilliant teeth and a young male model with windblown light brown hair, staring at me as if to dredge the words out of me.

I wait a few moments before continuing, not because I'm nervous, but because saying it out loud feels like it will become that much more real. "So my dad came home yesterday…"

"Oh, yeah, you told me about that! Did you have a nice dinner?" She knows how much simply eating a meal with him means to me, and I find it endearing that she bothers to ask. My heart clenches as I fiddle with the hem of the dress trimmed with doily fabric.

"It was great. We had a really nice time. But yesterday morning… he told me something. Something important."

She can tell from the tone of my voice that I'm being uncharacteristically downcast. She pokes her fluffy head under the stall, not checking to see if I'm fully clothed, and narrows her eyes. "What is it? Is he leaving again, like, tomorrow? Because you have to know that it's okay for you to say-"

"No, no, it's not that." I slide down the wall onto the hard brown linoleum, and she compliments how the dress looks on me before I thank her and continue. "He told me that he met somebody."

Her doe-eyes widened. "Like, a woman?"

I nod gravely. "Yes, a woman. But that's not a problem – of course it's not. It's just that… he kind of sprung something on me that I wasn't expecting." She stares attentively, waiting for me to continue, and I wrap my arms around my knees to hug them to my chest. "They're getting married."

"What?!" She demands, and she moves so quickly she slams the side of her neck against the divide of the stalls. I quickly move to check if she's alright and she just waves me away, her thin brows forming a deep line between them. "This seems kind of sudden, don't you think?"

"Well, sure, but apparently they've been together for a while – he just didn't know how to tell me." We remain like that as we talk, me sitting cross-legged on the floor, her poking her head out from the divide and resting her chin on crossed arms. Her variation of expression astounds me as I continue. "He met her when he was in China – that was a year or so ago. Maybe longer, I dunno. I think that if I oppose it, he won't go through with it, but it's not like I don't want him to get married…"

She nods in understanding. "It's just been you two this whole time."

"And Juli," I cut in.

"Yes, and the squirrel. I thought you'd been acting funny today; you rarely ever want to go clothes shopping. Have you even met this woman?"

I shake my head, tendrils of hair coming loose from my low bun. "No, not yet. That's why I'm looking for a dress – we're meeting at a restaurant on Friday, and I want to… make a good impression. She is the woman my dad loves, after all. Even if this is a bit sudden to me, and it makes me a tad bit uncomfortable, I should try my best to love her, too."

Her smile is warm and full of fondness, her eyebrows finally returned to their original resting place, gracefully crawling down from her bronzed forehead. "That's a good way of looking at things. I know I'd be weirded out if my mom got remarried." She shudders, the tops of her shoulders brushing the stall. "Especially if the dude had kids. Just one brother is enough for me."

"Oh, that reminds me," I say, plopping my fist into my palm. "Dad mentioned that she has kids. So when they get married…"

"You'll have step-siblings," Maho-chan whistles, drumming her nails on the ground. "Wow. This is a big deal."

"Do you think this dress is good enough?" I ask her, and she nods eagerly. I actually love it, but I'm not the type to gush; it was a deep blue, practically navy, with mid-sleeves and a white Peter Pan collar. It's on sale, too, which helps since any money I don't spend after a few days of having my paycheck goes into my university fund. "I'm nervous about meeting her. What if she doesn't like me?"

"Nobody doesn't like you," she scoffs, and I roll my eyes. "Rintaro-san is such a chill person, and you're just like him. If she likes him, she'll definitely like you."

My eyes start to burn a little from emotion, and I pat her head, her unruly hair sticking up every place I touch it. "Thank you, Maho-chan. You're such a doll."

Her teeth flash in her wide grin, perfected after having braces all through middle school. "I know. Now let's check out and get some food." She throws her arms at their full length on the floor beside me, then slowly slides back under the stall as if she'd being dragged. "I have to tell you about the episode of Bubblegum I watched last night."

My head jerks up with the dress wrapped around it, and I rapidly knock on her stall in a flash of panic and heartache while I wear it like a sheet ghost. "Don't talk to me about that show!"

When we mosey on down to the food court to grab some McDonald's and exchange heated opinions about that show, I feel a sudden tap on my shoulder after we've been eating for a few minutes. I glance up with a smile without even knowing who it is, and see our classmate standing there with a megawatt grin on his face. "Sasakura-kun! Fancy seeing you here."

"Hey, Hinata-san," he says cheerfully, all smiles and golden skin. "Imai," he adds quickly, and her eye twitches.

"Thanks for the afterthought, Sasakura." I snort in laughter at that, since those two aren't exactly famous for getting along. We all met in high school when we were in the same class in our first year, and had become something of a gang for these past two years. These two would probably rip each other's throats out if someone isn't there to mediate, but I dream of a day when they can sit in a room together and be at least remotely civil.

"You weren't an afterthought! Just a bit of… an extra."

"That's not better in the slightest," she sighs in aggravation, making me giggle again. "Was there something in particular you wanted?"

He looks a bit affronted. "I just saw you two over here and came to say hi! Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Of course not," I say before Maho-chan can retort with something less than nice. "It's nice to see you outside of school. You look good in regular clothes," I tack on, gesturing to his fitted jeans and vee-neck shortsleeve. It is a real change from our uniform I see him in all the time, with black linen pants and a matching blazer with red lining.

"It is a problem if you're at the mall all by yourself like a creep," Maho-chan cuts in with narrowed eyes, and I shoot her a look.

"I'm not here by myself, smartass," he says to her pointedly, then gestures at the food court around us. "I'm here with-" He cuts himself off, pausing to think, then sighs and says, "With a friend."

Maho-chan's eyebrows skyrocket. "Someone we know?"

"Yes," he hedges, then shrugs. "But he's too shy to say hi."

"Oh please," she scoffs, kicking back in her chair to rock on the back two legs. "We're the least intimidating people ever."

"Hinata-san, sure, but with that massive forehead of yours…"

Suddenly she's standing, her eyes almost glowing as she tries to get in his face, intercepted by me. "What did you just say, punk?"

"Come on, now, we're all friends here," I tell them firmly, giving them both a murderous look. "Quit making a scene, all right? It looks like you two are about to start brawling."

"Hinata-san's right," Sasakura-kun says with another sigh, and Maho-chan begrudgingly takes her seat again. "So, what are you two hanging at the mall for? Looking for anything in particular?"

"I'm meeting my dad's new fiancée on Friday," I say, thinking that the more often I say the words, the more I'll get used to them. "I wanted to get some new clothes, something way nicer than what I normally wear to make a good impression."

He looks surprised, then pulls up a vacant chair besides me, the legs scraping obnoxiously against the ground. Maho-chan shoots him a disbelieving look, but he silences her by saying, "That must be rough, to get a new mom. If you ever need to talk to someone, about anything, I'll be here, okay?" He cops it off with a reassuring hand on my shoulder. His deep brown eyes look so honest and have a slight sheen over them, as if he's actually expressing his dearest sympathies, which I can't help but laugh at how nice he's being.

"Of course," I tell him, patting his hand. "That's very nice of you to say. Don't regret it if I take you up on your offer."

"I won't!" He says vehemently, and I just laugh again. "You're laughing in the face of my sincerity! Give me a little more credit."

"Sorry, sorry," I giggle, then my phone goes off to notify me of an alarm. I quickly glance at it and see the time, 5:05, and place it back in my purse before shoving the rest of my food down my mouth. Sasakura-kun looks downright stunned while Maho-chan just smirks in satisfaction, and I say, "I gotta be home soon to get dinner started. You coming, Maho-chan?"

"Of course," she responds, and she takes our trays to the garbage disposal to dump the rest of the packaging and lingering fries out.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow, Sasakura-kun," I say with a small wave, lugging Maho-chan's three bags in one hand and mine in the other. His smile is still a bit startled as he says the same thing in response, and I skip away to join Maho-chan, who is waiting by the exit.

"Sometimes, you can be as dense as molasses, Hina," she sighs, and I blink innocently at her.

"What do you mean? Did I forget something?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm sure you'll figure it out someday." She slings an arm around my shoulder, and we don't even falter in step, so used to the gesture that we're completely coordinated to it by now. "I'm real excited to eat your cooking, Hina."

I smirk in amusement. "Did we not just eat ten chicken nuggets each and French fries with frappucinos?"

She looks me dead in the eye and whispers, "It doesn't matter," which I lose my mind at, and I'm still laughing by the time we exit the mall and are walking down the crowded sun-dyed streets to get home.

We chat about completely asinine things as we take our time strolling down the residential streets, the neighbourhood quiet save for the rustling of newly budded leaves on their branches. The streets and sidewalks have a slightly orange hue from the sunset, and when we're in a less crowded place, Maho-chan and I get far more loud and excited about things like video games and television programs we've been watching together lately. There is some talk of schoolwork, not too much since it's something neither of us like to dwell on, then we're standing in front of one of the newer buildings in the neighbourhood which boasts modern architecture and a slanted roof meant to be a slide for owls – or at least that's what I'd stated when I was about six. We have a large tree in the front yard which always gives us a major dose of sakura petals on the walkway when that time rolls around, the same one I always climbed when I was younger. One of the branches is slightly crooked and shorter than the rest with its end torn off, showing where I'd broken the branch and fallen off, and I have the long jagged scar down my leg from scraping it on the next branch down to prove it. Other than that there isn't a whole lot of flora to speak of, since every attempt I'd made at gardening had failed miserably, and when Dad had tried to grow cherry tomatoes way back when the neighbourhood squirrels ravaged them with a hunger meant for the undead – with help from Juli, of course.

We climb the porch steps easily, and I twist my key in the lock until the white windowed door pops open with only a slight creak, and we scrape our feet on the entry mat before stepping into slippers. I get started on dinner after I dump our stuff into my room to keep it out of the way, and she helps out with chopping vegetables and preparing the tea – something I don't even ask her to do. Maho-chan is just the kind of person that, even if she is brutally honest and has no problem with speaking her mind, will do anything to help those she cares about, even if it's the smallest things. I smile as I feel her bustling beside me, her tonedeaf voice screeching along to the music we have playing, and my heart warms with just her presence beside me. If anything besides Juli gets me through the lonely months Dad's gone, it's definitely her. She takes Juli into her arms and dances with him, something he responds to with some not-so-nice words he assuredly got from me raging at video games, and I know that, without a doubt, I could never be uncomfortable around her. She's a part of my family, even if we aren't blood-related, and I wonder if it will be like this with Miwa-san's kids whenever I see them. My heart clenches at the thought. Oh boy.

Dad and Maho-chan act like old friends whenever they see each other, which is obviously not often. He adores her, and the time we merrily spend together, so that I'm not completely by myself when he's working. It's the same way when he comes home that night, and we all eat dinner together before he drives her home, since he didn't want her walking by herself when it got dark outside. We don't talk about Friday's rapid approach during the ride home, Juli resting in my lap and worriedly looking between us. We're keeping everything about Miwa-san and her family under wraps until then, until everything is cemented and much more real. But I want to know about them. I wish I can say something to him, ask him to tell me more, but I don't want to risk this fragile peace we've established in keeping them out of the conversation. He knows I'm slightly off-put about the idea of him remarrying, and I know that he's feeling guilty about not saying anything about it. It only takes a few more moments before I can't take it anymore; he's my father, and I can't stand awkward silences, especially when this involves the both of us. I have a right to know, and he has the right to tell me.

"Have you ever met Miwa-san's kids before?" I begin, and he seems slightly startled by the topic. I'm usually quiet and respectful around him, as I don't want to disturb him when he's eating or working, but I say what's on my mind. With this monumental change coming into our lives, we're going to have to start changing, as well.

He nods in confirmation. "I've met her two eldest sons. They're both very capable men, and run the household when she's not around. She often works away from home, you know," he adds, reminding me of how he said they met.

"How exactly did you two meet in China?" I ask, and he smiles endearingly at the memory. My chest clenches at seeing him so happy, and I find myself smiling before he even responds.

"They called me to a broadcasting station for an interview while I was in the country. When I arrived, she happened to be having one at the same time, as she's a fashion designer who's been gaining more worldwide attention lately."

My mouth opens into a startled 'O'. "That's amazing."

His smile quirks in agreement. "We met backstage, and introduced ourselves, and I know it sounds cheesy, but… We just looked into each other's eyes, and the rest was history." He actually blushes a bit, the tops of his cheeks turning a rust colour. I'm awed, full of happiness for him, yet weirded out at the same time. It's like he's a schoolboy again.

"You're right, that is cheesy," I tell him, and he barks out an embarrassed laugh. "I'm glad you met though." This shocks him into silence, and he seems to be brooding a bit as we drive home, the streetlights flashing into the car at even intervals. We keep the radio off, and his face eclipsed in darkness worries me a bit; maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.

Then his smile is almost as blinding as the sun as he says, "So am I, Vivi. You're going to love her, I just know it."

Stopped at a slightly awkward spot, I know, but I mostly just wanted to introduce Mahoko in this chapter and for you guys to learn more about Vivi. Next chapter she finally meets Miwa! I hope you enjoyed! ^-^

Are the pink and blue bras a metaphor? WHO KNOWS GUESS YOU'LL HAVE TO KEEP READING TO FIND OUT.