Chapter 6: Cherry Red

The week with my little cousin passed like anything else; with unexpected events filled with bubbles of embarrassment, clumsy explanations, and all and all, a positive conclusion. Needless to say, it was interesting to spend time as a household of three instead of the usual two. And like I predicted, Lee was exceptional with my cousin, to the point where Endo preferred to tail my roommate around the apartment than myself. What's more, it wasn't long till Lee finally joined me on the couch again. This was all thanks to my little cousin practically begging my roommate to watch a children's movie with us. Not sure if he enjoyed it; but I guess I'll never know. But what I do know (or what I think I know) is that things between my roommate and I are back to normal.

"Yamada-san, I have some bad news."

Or not.

I've entered the apartment after a long days work, and I'm welcomed with this not so cordial greeting. My feet are hesitant; not wanting to cross the living room floor towards my roommate. He's standing at the entrance of the hallway, taking side-ways glances towards my bedroom door. I'm unaware of the situation, and by the looks of my roommate, knowing won't be in my best interest.

I swallow a lump of inhibition and cross the living room floor. A small breath of air escapes me as I find some of my belongings against the walls of the hallway. Am I being kicked out? The thought alone forces all the oxygen out of my body.

"Did something happen?" My voice is tight in my throat. I'm staring up at my roommate with eyes larger than his own. I can't help but take a few more frantic glances at my things gathered in the hallway. This over-whelming sense of foreboding ushers a scared croak, which I restrain in my mouth.

"Yes, I just hope you are prepared," he answers my question, and I gulp down my heart urging to come up. Oh crap, this is it, I'm being evicted!

My roommate motions me towards my bedroom door, and I follow like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. Anxiety stirs within me; watching as Lee captures the handle of my door and pushes it open. Once he does, I peek around the side of his arm to see part of the ceiling dripping water into an empty wash bucket, with towels added underneath. My mouth forms an apparent circle, taking in my room's topsy-turvy state. It's even more apparent that my furniture has been moved to avoid the wet mess spewing from my bedroom ceiling.

I slowly take a step back, releasing a sigh more of relief than anything else. I'm just glad my initial assumptions were false. Although, coming home to an ocean in my room isn't what I look forward to at the end of the day.

"I am sorry this happened, Yamada-san," Lee speaks with a matching sigh. Closing the door, he relieves us both from the disaster that is my room. "The water pipe running through your ceiling broke, for whatever reason I am not sure. Unfortunately, it was one of those things that was not anticipated, or else I would have prevented it before it happened."

"I understand, it's not your fault; it's just…oh boy." I don't really know what to say. I'm trying to plan out the rest of my week according to this little dilemma before me. I even happened to notice the leak seeping down into the walls. Looks like I'll have to re-paint the room, but I guess that's not so bad, maybe I could pick the color.

"If you are worried about the damages or expenses, you do not have to," my roommate begins to inform me. "As you can see, I took the liberty of moving some of your personal things out into the hallway. While I was moving them, I did not see any cracks or marks caused by any water damage. Also, I spoke with the landlord and all repairs are insured."

I nod my head, "Thank you for moving my things. Did the landlord mention how long the repair process will take?"

"He said someone will be here to fix it by tomorrow morning."

"Great, but I noticed some of the water has already leaked into the walls. I'm just wondering if that will be covered too."

"I am sure we will be reimbursed for the money we will need to spend on paint," Lee exclaims. "I am just not sure if a painter will be provided as well."

"Oh, that's no problem. I can paint the room myself," I speak a little quickly, and I smile shyly as he lifts a thick brow at my eagerness. "Yeah, I actually like to work with paints. So- it's not really a chore for me."

A soft smile presses against his lips, "Sounds like something you would enjoy."

"Does it?" I chuckle sheepishly, "It's probably odd to enjoy something like painting a room."

"Not at all," Lee says in my defense with a prominent grin. "In fact, I was wondering if I could join you when the time comes. I have never painted a room before."

"No way, I can't believe that," I say in disbelief. "What's next, Lee-san? Are you going to tell me you've never even held a paint brush before in your life?"

"Now that would be ridiculous, of course I have," my roommate pauses, pinching his chin in thought. A thought pops into his head as he smacks a fist into his open palm, "Actually, you are right. I have not."

"Jeez, Lee-san. What on earth have you been doing all your life?"

"Training to become a splendid shinobi. What else would I be doing?" Lee questions back, and I'm starting to wonder if training and sweating is all this man does.

"I'm sure you're already a 'splendid' shinobi, and that's why I'm stealing you the day after the ceiling is fixed."

My roommate's incredibly round eyes blink, "Steal me? There would be no reason to steal me if I have already volunteered myself."

"It was just an expression, Lee-san. I would never actually steal you. That would be impossible for me to do," I chuckle.

"Oh, right. How silly of me not to catch that," he accompanies my small laughs while lightly tapping his knuckles against his head. "What time will we be painting?"

"Early in the morning, before twelve," I reply.

My roommate taps his chin with a thoughtful finger at my answer, "That time conflicts with my training. Is there any way to push it after – three o'clock?"

"Three o'clock?" I repeat his words; like there's any way I'll postpone it that much. "That's way too late to start. You do know it'll take most of the day to finish."

I watch as Lee raises a thick skeptical eyebrow, "Will it? I do not see how it would take so long."

"There's more to it than just slapping a coat of paint on the wall," I explain calmly. "There's getting the paint and supplies, the primer, and the whole taping process. Plus, we also need to move the rest of the furniture out."

"I still do not know if I should miss training, it is part of my daily routine and…"

Lee veers from his sentence; witnessing the most pleading face I have mustered just for him. My hands are cupped together and pressed softly against my lips, while my violet eyes are mimicking the look one receives from a puppy, "Please, Lee-san? I promise we'll finish quickly if you help me. Then, you'll be free to train and do what ever you usual do afterwards."

"Yamada-san-"

"I'll make you lunch," I intercept quickly.

"Alright, you win. I will help you during that time," Lee says with a breath of defeat. A warm smile then crosses him; "You are possibly one of the very few people who are capable of persuading me from training. I hope you do not plan on sharing this ability of yours with anyone else."

Oh wow, I have that kind of power?

I reciprocate with a shy smile, "I wouldn't dream of it."

The next day followed and just like the landlord said, the repairman came and fixed the broken pipe conveniently placed above my room. Thankfully it took only one day; sleeping on the couch is a little awkward for many reasons. Since I know Lee wakes up extremely early, I had to make sure I wasn't drooling all over myself by the time he entered the living room that morning. The last thing I want is for him to perceive my style of sleeping relative to a forty-year old man hung-over his mind. Which I don't think I'm that of a messy sleeper, but I honestly wouldn't know that unless I was able to watch myself.

Anyway, it's the morning after, and all the furniture has been moved out of my room and into the living room. Thinking ahead, I made sure to buy all of the appropriate tools needed for this task yesterday after work, all except for the paint itself. Not so smart of me but I already knew the color I wanted. It didn't take very long to purchase it, but as I made my journey to the paint store, I allowed my antsy roommate to at least exert some energy by jogging around town.

I'm back at the apartment with newly bought paint, and I notice my roommate still isn't back yet. Settling down the canisters on the plastic covered floors of my room, I continue silently on my own. I begin taping the corners and edges of the walls, and after ten minutes of this my roommate enters the apartment.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Yamada-san!" I hear him call out from the living room.

"You're okay, it hasn't been that long," I answer back from the room, and stop my working hands as Lee comes to stand under the doorframe.

He's grinning and panting all at the same time as he speaks, "I am actually really excited to do this, but I think I do need to shower first."

I return with a crease of my own lips, "Go ahead. I'm not going anywhere."

He nods and disappears quickly back into the hallway. I grin quietly to myself, finding it humorous that someone other than myself is actually excited to paint a few walls. But that someone other than myself is none other than Lee. A young man, whom I'm slowly discovering, is genuinely passionate and dedicated towards experiencing new things. And with this kind of person as my roommate, I wouldn't want it any other way.

While my roommate's shower carries on, an idea pops into my head. My feet glide across the empty room and out into the cluttered hallway. The space is practically littered with my belongings, and it takes me a few minutes to search through most of the misplaced drawers and boxes. Found it, I smile graciously as I pull out a vintage style radio. I blow away the collective dust and carry it into my room. Setting it down, I bite my bottom lip, relying on faith to make it work. Turning the radio on, I sigh in relief as soon as I'm greeted by static and remnants of a song. I fiddle with the channel dial, and pause on a specific station dedicated to jazz ensembles. My fingers tap pleasantly against my knees to the rhythm, only to stop when I hear the bathroom door open.

I turn over my shoulder, catching my fresh looking roommate entering my room, "I hope you don't mind my radio. I thought it'd be nice to listen to some music while we paint."

"I do not mind, it actually sounds quite nice," Lee replies fondly, motioning himself towards me. I thank him as he helps me up from my sitting position, and I bend over to take the tape in my hand.

Turning to face my roommate, I extend the tape towards him, "We'll need to tape the rest of the edges first before we paint. This is probably the most boring part of the whole process. Are you sure you still want to do this?"

"Absolutely," he nods, plastering a playful smile. "Especially since you practically begged me to help you, Yamada-san."

"Oh, quiet you. I wasn't begging, just politely requesting. That's all."

A chuckle escapes him as I lightly tap his arm with the tape repeatedly. Laugh all you want, but this is my way of punishing you without actually having to injure you, I think with a childish sense of victory.

I pout once Lee takes the roll tape into his hold, twirling it around his index finger," 'Politely requesting' is a better way to put it, which I have never heard of before. Did you come up with the term all by yourself?"

"Very fresh of you to say, " I say, snatching the tape back. Someone's getting a little comfortable. "Looks like someone discovered a little word known as 'sarcasm'."

"I was never completely oblivious to it, but I am sorry, I will stop now since we need to finish painting your room by the end of the day." He smiles down at me, waiting for my words of instruction. I'm still a little intrigued by our previous and first sarcastic banter, wondering what sparked him to initiate it in the first place. It was in friendly context, as far as I'm aware but – there are still so many sides to my roommate that I don't know about.

Slowly but surely, I guess.

"Alright, let's get to it then," I speak while stretching the tape.

Like anything else that involves some sort of painting and house décor, we make sure to mask all the edges and corners of the room as to not splatter paint on unwanted places. This takes about an hour or so, since double-checking is always in order after the process. After finishing that, primer was coated onto the walls and allowed to dry. Then, it was time to brake out the paint.

"What color did you decide on, Yamada-san?" I hear Lee ask me as I pour the paint into a roller tray. "Looks like some shade of red."

"Mhm, it has a specific name. It was 'Cherry-something-or-another', I can check right now," Filling the tray I let the last drop of paint fall before viewing the can. "It's called 'Pop Your Cherry Red' - oh."

Seriously? What kind of manufacturing company would even allow themselves to distribute this brand of paint? The name is so suggestive for crying out loud.

"That is a really strange name to call a shade of red," Lee admits, scratching the back of his neck in slight confusion. "Is it related to anything? I would have understood if it was just 'Cherry Red', but what is the rest implying?"

Oh my god, please stop asking me questions that I don't want to answer.

Wait, aren't you twenty-years old already? Jeez, you are such an enigma, Lee.

"I-I seriously don't know," I lie wholeheartedly, swallowing my embarrassment. "I mean, just look at the names some people give to their pets. Totally weird and unrelated; same goes with paint colors."

"I guess that is true," my roommate agrees, and I let out a sigh of welcomed relief. Again, having to explain such uncomfortable subjects is never at the top of my Christmas list. Thankfully, we get on with the painting without any second questions. It's my favorite part, and as I glance over my shoulder, I can now say it's also my roommates.

I can't help but quirk an eyebrow, watching him paint the wall with so much fever; I barely see his hands at work. Is he making this into a work out? I bite my bottom lip, taming the rampant giggles tempting to bubble up. He looks incredibly ridiculous painting my wall, and I try to hide my face once he notices.

"Is there something funny, Yamada-san?"

I turn my cheek and dip my chin lower, sucking tighter on my lips. I shake my head meekly, trying to cover my mouth, "No, no. Nothing's funny. I just have something in my-"

Something wet splatters against my thigh, and I squeal, practically jumping on my toes in surprise. I stare down my right side, noticing parts of me are speckled with red paint. My gaze snaps towards Lee, who's trying to pull off the casual act by whistling to himself.

"You are so…" my mouth wants to let loose a flurry of remarks, but I simply shake my painted roller at him. "You are so lucky I'm not wearing any clothes that I plan to keep."

"What was that, Yamada-san? Did you need something?" Lee asks innocently, turning to look at me. He stops painting and expresses the most unrealistic gasp possible, "Yamada-san! What happened? Did you miss the wall? What a shame."

Oh-ho, and the sarcasm comes back to play.

"Lee-san, you're a terrible actor. And I'm so glad you decided to become a shinobi, because honestly, I wouldn't pay even one yen to see any movie staring you."

Another fake gasp escapes my roommate's lips, "Yamada-san, why are you being so cruel to me? You are saying all these things, when I have done nothing wrong. I thought we were friends."

"Friends my-" I stop mid-sentence. Did he just call us friends? I'm digesting the word and it's context in my mind. I realize this is the first time he's ever referred to me as something more than a roommate. Did he really mean it or….I decide it's best to forfeit the idea to the back of my head and go with the flow, "Listen here, friend. You better cut it out or else I'm just going make myself lunch, and completely forget about yours-"

For a second time, I'm interrupted by my own high-pitched shrieks as my roommate flings more paint my way. As much as I have tried to restrain myself up to this point, I let loose a fit of giggles. I feel like a small child trying to escape a sprinkler, and I'm genuinely enjoying it.

"You are such a bully," I say between my exhausting laughs. And they're obviously contagious since Lee is laughing as well, who makes my giggles worse. I'm running out of breath! "Do it again, and I swear you'll regret it. Remember, Lee-san, I know where you sleep at night."

My roommate raises an amused dark eyebrow into his forehead, and well past his black bangs, "Are you threatening a shinobi, Yamada-san?"

"I might be," I reply coolly, biting my bottom lip as I watch Lee dip his roller into the pool of paint sitting in the tray.

"I admire your courage, however…" I shiver with excitement as Lee gradually pulls out his roller. All my stomach muscles clench; the paint is practically falling in clumps off the roller, and it's all for me. "I will not lose, I can assure you that."

"I wouldn't be so confident," I finish my sentence, and hoping to catch him off guard, I flick my roller at him. At first, I think there's absolutely no way he will dodge the paint in time, but I'm stumped as to how quickly he moves out of the way. What on earth, how is that humanly possible? I don't have much time to dote on it. I'm forced to flee from a red glob hurled right at my chest.

I was never the most athletic kid in school, but I manage to shift fast enough so that the paint licks at my shoulder. I try to recover hastily, and make another attempt to flick more paint at my roommate. Of course, easier said than done, since he demonstrates his insane speed yet again.

"You're pretty quick, Lee-san. I'll give you that," I breathe heavily, gathering more paint on my brush.

"So I have been told," the green shinobi comments back, still baring a grin that I'd just love to smear paint all over. "If you think I am fast now, you should see me with my weights off."

I roll my eyes, cocky little thing, isn't he?

I bite my bottom lip, contemplating how to go about the situation. From experience, he's dodging everything I throw at him. We're only about a yard apart, and our eyes are locked in limbo. Since all my attacks have been long ranged, I formulate that the next plausible move would require me to be more direct. That would entail me forcing my way into close combat. I nod internally, and commit to the plan. Gripping my roller, I hurl my body forward, attempting to catch his chest.

I'm very disappointed in myself once he captures both my wrists, holding them in place beside my ears. He looks down at my immovable position and shakes his head contemptuously, "Yamada-san, I thought I told you that I am a Taijutsu specialist. Anything at close range is in my field of expertise."

"Mhm," I mumble sourly, staring down at my spotted feet. I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. I contemplate throwing in the towel, allowing my roommate to claim his victory. My lips crease into a small frown. Giving up was never something I enjoyed doing, but maybe this time-wait! If I had just one more chance, then I know exactly what I needed to resort to.

I slowly lift my head, staring silently up at my roommate. He stares back intently, probably waiting for me to raise my white flag. Then, ever so slightly, I shift my eyes towards the open bedroom door. I then plaster on the best-surprised look I can gather, wide-eyes and all, "Oh my lord. Sakura-san! What on earth are you doing in our apartment completely naked?"

My emphasis on the word naked definitely does the trick, since Lee practically snaps his own neck to peer over his shoulder. Distracted as he is, I take this moment to jerk my wrists back and plant my roller firmly into his chest.

"Got you!" I cheer, pumping my now free hands into the air. He's in complete shock as to how I subdued him, but that only makes my victory parade that much more enjoyable, "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for non-ninja's."

I watch bemused as he blinks his saucers down at the red splash across his chest. And like a scene from a movie, he dramatically drops his roller and slumps down onto his knees. He grabs the material of his jump suite stained in red and cringes, "Ah, I have been mortally wounded! Please, grant me my dying wish, and tell everyone close to me that I love them."

Oh brother, can he get any more cliché?

"Lee-san, the paint looks more like ketchup than blood." I try to rationalize with my roommate that his charade isn't very convincing. Yet, he continues to ignore me by sprawling himself on the floor, adding a few groans of fake discomfort. His moans fade and his eyes finally close, and all that remains is his rising chest.

Yeah, very convincing.

I sigh, but I know a smile is forming against my lips. Lowering myself onto my knees next to his lying form, I begin to play along by tucking his arms in, and placing his hands over his chest. I even go as far as molding his hands to take the paint roller as a substitute bouquet of flowers. Quietly, I clap my hands together in mock prayer.

"I will now say a few words in memory of a young man by the name of Rock Lee," As I start, I quickly peek through my lashes. I try to be as serious as possible, but my roommate's lips are trembling to crack a smile. I clear my throat, attempting to brush away my own need to giggle, "Hm, where to begin? Let's see…Rock Lee lived a remarkable life, one that has inspired many, be it young or old. He was passionate, determined, and well liked by his colleagues. He wore the same green jump suit everyday-"

"I do no wear the same jump suit everyday, I have spares."

I lift one eyelid open, and expect to catch my roommate out of character. Instead, he's remained perfectly still without a muscle out of place. I pay no mind to his little interjecting comment and continue, "He did not wear the same suit twice, and knew how to separate his whites from his colors, and darks from his lights. I believe I can speak for all, when I say we will all miss his incredibly large eyebrows and distinguished hair cut. But for me, I will miss his silliness, and his energy. I will miss his strange speech and even stranger personality. I will miss his perfectly round eyes and accompanying eyelashes. And although we've had our fill of awkwardness, I will miss his company more than ever."

I take a needed breath and bow my head respectfully; "I will treasure his memory forever. May he rest in peace."

I'm met with stillness and the forgotten radio filling the room with a soft jazzy haze. I open my eyes slowly, and my roommate is lying still. Even though my speech has long ended, he remains unmoved. Not even one strand of black hair is out of place. I tilt my head, wondering if he fell asleep. I scoot closer, leaning over so that my face is hovering about a foot away from his. I scrunch my nose; did he really fall asleep?

A low snore lifts from his parted lips.

Yup, sure did. Wow, that was super quick.

Hm, good thing he fell asleep. My speech was getting way too sentimental.

I shift to stand on my feet. To give my roommate some time to rest, I leave the room in order to start making lunch. Entering the kitchen, I prepare simple turkey sandwiches so that less time is wasted eating and more time is spent painting. I decide on a whim to make a warm cup of coffee and drink it gingerly in the kitchen. I busy myself while on my coffee break by reading the Konoha newspaper. Nothing particularly exciting today, but the crossword puzzle in the back is always a treat.

After sipping the last of my drink, I grab the plate of prepared sandwiches and head back into the room. The smell of paint is heavy, and I walk pass Lee's sleeping form to open the bedroom window. A nice spring breeze enters, mixing well with the music in the air. I tip toe back to my roommate, taking a seat on my knees by his side.

"Lee-san, I made lunch," I whisper delicately, not wanting to startle him awake. I'm given no response but soft breathing, and I wave his sandwich back and forth under his nose, "I made you a turkey sandwich. I'll eat it if you don't want it."

My voice is low, and probably blending soundly with the music in the background. I place our lunch off to the side and lean over, extending my hand to brush his shoulder. Gently, I squeeze and rock his shoulder back and forth, "Lee-san-"

Without warning, Lee shoots up and I feel an instant pain pinch my bottom lip. I cup a hand over my mouth, trying to sooth the present discomfort. Not sure what just happened, I glance at my roommate who is now fully awake. He's sitting up straight, and flinching as he brushes a few fingers over his own lip. He swiftly turns to view me, revealing his lip bleeding twice in a matter of a few weeks. I also take this time to touch my bottom lip lightly, allowing a stinging sensation to welcome me fully.

"Are you alright, Yamada-san?" My roommate inquires with visible concern. I nod slowly, and he simply sighs in frustration, "I am so very sorry. I guess I fell asleep and had such a strange dream that it startled me awake. And then, this happened."

"It's fine, I'm okay. I'll just get some ointment for us." I attempt to get up, but I'm kept in place as Lee places a firm hand on my shoulder.

"Allow me to get it, since this is technically my fault," he insists, standing up. "I will be back shortly."

"Oh, Okay," I murmur, watching him leave the room. I shift on my knees, trying to find a more comfortable spot. As I do, Lee returns with a tube of medicinal cream for the both of us to use. I stare silently as he sits on his knees in front of me. I motion to take hold of the ointment, but Lee resists, grabbing my hand and placing it back at my side.

"Please, I should be the one to do it," he informs me sternly, uncapping the tube and placing a pea size white bead on his index finger. He's being fairly stubborn, but I speculate he's just fixed in his own ways. I swallow hard as his finger presses against my bottom lip. It's cold, but the intimacy is raising the temperature in my cheeks considerably. The thought causes me to flinch out of embarrassment.

"Am I hurting you?" Lee directs the question towards me, and I shake my head. He nods and takes his hand back, reapplying the cream on his finger and applying it to his own lip. His eyes then lower to the floor, "I am sorry if I was acting up a few moments ago, it was probably what led up to me injuring you."

"You don't have to apologize, it was a lot of fun."

He lifts his head at my words, "Are you sure? You do not need to hesitate to tell me if I was just being bothersome."

"I would never think that you're bothersome," I speak truthfully. "Sure, you can be a little clumsy around me, but so am I around you. But a wise friend once told me, mishaps happen." I take the cap and tube from his hold, sealing it with a warm smile, "Point is, I always have fun when I'm around you, Lee-san."

"You are very kind to say those things, Yamada-san," Lee smiles appreciatively. "Kinder than most."

"Mm," I shake my head. "I'm not always so kind. I'm actually more of a liar than anything else."

Lee blinks, completely dumfounded by my statement, "I do not understand. How so?"

I shift uncomfortably on my knees. I know he's fully enthralled to hear an explanation, and I wring my hands anxiously together. Alright, Sho. Let him hear it, "Well, I haven't been completely honest with you, Lee-san. In fact, the reason why I'm here….the reason that I moved out of my old apartment is because-"

The house phone begins to ring, and I close my mouth. I awkwardly stand, in attempts to now save myself from having to share something personal with him.

"I'll get it," I mumble, tucking a caramel strand of hair behind my ear. Making my way to the door, I slightly turn over my shoulder, "Oh, and eat your sandwich that's on the plate there. Okay?"

He nods and I smile, exiting the room fully. I shuffle my way into the living and over to the stand next to the couch. Picking up the restless phone, I press the receiver to my ear, "Hello?"

"Oh, is this Sho-san?"

The voice sounds familiar, and I nod to myself, "Yes, this is she. May I ask who is calling?"

"Hello, Sho-san," the voice is feminine, and no-doubt pleasant sounding. "It's Sakura."

The wound on my lip tingles, sending me a reminder or two of whom I made contact with recently. I brush my fingers over it, over-lapping the pain with one caused on my own, "Oh, it's good to hear from you, Sakura-san. Is there something you need?"

"Yes, I do actually," she replies almost instantly. "And I'm sorry if this seems a bit random, but I was wondering if we could meet up for lunch this weekend."

"Not at all, I would love too," I smile, but it's a nervous one. And I can't explain why at the moment. "Mind if I ask what the occasion is for?"

"It's not really for anything special," Sakura chuckles lightly over the phone, and it tickles my ear and sends a shiver down the nape of my neck. "I know that you're roommates with Lee, and I feel bad for not taking the time to get to know you better. You don't think that's strange, do you?"

I shake my head, "No, definitely not. I've been thinking the same thing and would love to get to know you as well, Sakura-san."

"That's good," she breaths a sigh of relief, and I follow with one mentally. "Well, I have to get back to work. I'll call you later this week to set up a specific time and place, is that alright?"

"Sounds perfect, I'll wait for your call then."

"Alright. Good-bye, Sho-san," she says politely.

And I follow up as well, "Good-bye, Sakura-san."

The other line drops, and I place the phone back in its place. I don't have a particular reason to be nervous about our meeting, but I am. I touch my bottom lip instinctively, it's not like anything that my roommate and I have done has been intentional.

Somewhere deep in my subconscious, I can sense my id smirking and talking to herself. I can feel her nonchalantly crossing her legs, placing a fingernail between her teeth.

'Oh, Sho. Everything may not have been intentional….but we both know you want it to be.'

I close my eyes tight, seeking words of salvation from my super-ego, but she's dead quiet. This alone makes my heart squeeze, begging for my id to spare me something I'd rather not realize. Surprisingly, my id doesn't say any more, but she doesn't have to. I've already figured out every reason to be nervous.

Oh no, this isn't good.