Author's Note: Yes, yes, I know, this took absolutely forever to write. I'm sorry. I hope it was worth the wait! Oh yeah, and I don't own Yugioh. Go fig.

The first thing Anzu noticed was that the interior of the diner was incredibly chilly. Goosebumps rose on her arms and she shivered, rubbing her fingers over her skin briskly. The next thing she noticed was the single red rose in Otogi's hand as he stood to greet her. He must have been watching the entrance rather intently to have caught her appearance already, which made her feel pleased. Blushing, she accepted the flower with surprising shyness – she couldn't remember the last time she'd received flowers, if she had at all – and allowed him to push in her chair for her. He really was quite a gentleman, though really, he'd likely had a lot of practice.

The last little tidbit she noticed was that there was a solitary, small candle lit between them. For a diner, no matter how upscale, this was awfully fancy. He'd probably had to talk to the owner himself to get such a well-positioned table and the candle, and she idly noticed that they had flowered tablecloth as opposed to everyone else who had nothing but paper mats.

And he'd done it all for her. In his own way, he'd made an otherwise ordinary diner into something special.

It almost instantly relaxed her, brushing away her insecurities and the brief, fierce flash of jealousy she'd felt upon seeing him flirting – talking, she told herself; just talking – to the waitress. It also made her rather glad she'd put some effort into her appearance; his appreciative stare made her smile whereas normally, it would have earned him a sound slap and a few well-chosen words.

Otogi lavished her with attention, drawing her easily into conversation about seemingly randomly chosen topics, most having nothing to do with their predecessors. The rose remained next to her on the table, and throughout dinner she found herself occasionally reaching out and stroking the delicate petals. Her actions did not go unnoticed and Otogi became, if possible, more smug. Unsurprisingly, Anzu took the opportunity to throw a few verbal jabs, as if to say, "Yes, I'm still Anzu, and yes, I can still take care of myself." It only seemed to amuse him further, as if he expected her to rise and whack him with the candlestick.

Before she realized she had opened her mouth, Anzu found herself confiding in him, speaking of her home situation and the fights her parents got into throughout the day. His amused glitter turned to concern as his eyes darkened, and he went so far as to lean across the table, resting a tanned hand against hers. He not once interrupted, and tactfully ignored the few tears that trickled down her cheeks though she tried her best to hold them back. At the very least, she avoided an embarrassing deluge.

She hadn't even told Yuugi of her parents' failing marriage, or the increasing violence, or the fear she felt every time she had to go home. She'd kept everything wrapped up tight for so long, but she felt relieved to open up to Otogi, doubly so because he took her seriously. There were no accusations of her being selfish or childish, only honest concern.

"You could stay with me," Otogi offered gallantly, and there was no trace of his usual impertinence. "I have several guest rooms…"

Even though he didn't mean it as such, it came out as boasting.

"No, I couldn't…"

"Look, Anzu-chan. If things ever get too…" He paused momentarily, and she knew what he had been about to say and felt grateful that he shifted his words. "…tiresome to deal with, you can always stay over. I would never turn you away."

Her eyes scanned his face, wondering what he looked like reflected in blue and if he looked as strange as she did reflected in emerald. It was hard to pull her gaze away, but she managed it, having found what she was looking for.

"Thank you."

Otogi smiled, knowing she meant more than just for offering a place to stay. "No problem," he replied easily, then leaned back in his chair again and picked up the conversation as if they'd never taken the dark tangent into her home life. Otogi knew from personal experience how powerful distractions could be, and he was the master of distractions.

At least, he fancied himself such. If he could just get her alone in a corner…

Blissfully unaware that, deep down, Otogi was still Otogi no matter what sort of façade her offered up, Anzu gratefully listened to him wax poetic about Tuscany and the wonders he'd seen there. She also mourned the loss of his touch, though she was careful not to let it show.

Dessert arrived too soon, signaling that their dinner was almost at an end. Anzu found herself lingering over her half of the chocolate cake – she was allowed to be naughty on occasion, though her dance instructor would likely harp on her about it – losing herself again in their conversation, thoughts of her parents drifting away. They'd both taken the opportunity to learn more about one another, and questions were flung across the table with startling intensity.

It was fascinating, really. Who would have thought bad boy Otogi Ryuuji enjoyed opera and, in fact, visited the opera house twice every week?

"Don't tell anyone my secret," he bade her as they left the bustling diner, stepping into the slightly chilly evening air; compared to the interior of the diner, it was a veritable sauna. They hadn't spent as long inside as Anzu had thought; the sun was only now beginning to set. "It would ruin my reputation."

More likely, it would simply bring about more fangirls who were completely taken in by the fact that Otogi was even more sophisticated than they thought.

Anzu brought the rose to her face, inhaling softly. "You'll have to buy my silence."

"Oh?" That sounded like a challenge.

She smiled at him impishly, her eyes catching the fading light. Images of squealing teenage girls throwing themselves at Otogi and begging to be taken to operas and ballets and all sorts of art exhibits – amongst more inappropriate places to be taken – rose in her mind and she giggled. His gaze turned suspicious.

"Yes."

"And what does My Lady require?"

"You have an imagination." Where did this flirtatious streak come from, anyway? Anzu almost felt as if she'd had more than just one glass of wine at dinner. Was this what it felt like to be happy? So warm and carefree?

His grin matched hers, and then surpassed it. "I do at that."

"What sort of price do you believe would be…adequate?" Putting her virtue in his hands, so to speak. Not a very wise decision. Or perhaps the wisest of all.

"Are you sure you wish me to decide that?"

"You wouldn't cheat me, now, would you?"

Otogi's grin turned positively wolfish. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Anzu highly doubted that, but she had to continue playing the game. After all, she'd started it. However, it was growing harder and harder to keep the straight face she'd conjured, and she had to raise the rose again to cover her expression.

"Then what do you require?"

"I believe My Lady would be agreeable to…this…"

During their conversation, Otogi had led her off to the side, and now she felt her back hit something rough and uneven. A quick glance showed it to be a tree; how had they gotten to the park so quickly? The diner must have been closer than she thought.

He extended one hand, resting it beside her head on the bark, and leaned in, his bangs shadowing his eyes. Then his lips brushed against hers, once, twice, before finally claiming them for a kiss.

When he finally withdrew, they were both breathless and flushed.

"Does the payment meet My Lady's approval?"

Anzu nodded, not trusting her voice. Perhaps his judgment wasn't so poor after all.

"I figured." Otogi started laughing as Anzu smacked him. "Ow! Hey, what did I do?"

"Nothing. I don't need a reason."

"I am going to have to watch myself." Then his expression grew serious again. "Anzu-chan?"

"Hmmm?" She watched him, wishing that he would be quiet and kiss her again. She was about to take matters into her own hands when he spoke again.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

"…what?" It felt just like it had in his store, stunned to disbelief when he'd asked her out on a date. First that, and then the kiss, and now… "As in…your girlfriend?"

"Yes." He didn't even make fun of her for her lapse of intelligence.

It didn't take long for her to beam and throw her arms around his neck. "Of course," she gushed, careful not to drop the rose as she kissed him soundly. "Of course, Oto---Ryuuji."

"Mmmm," he murmured against her lips. "I think I like the sound of my name on your lips."

"Oh, you…!"

Once the sun had set, the pair drew away from the tree and headed out of the park, wandering aimlessly before Anzu figured it would be a good idea for her to get home. She didn't want her parents worrying about her, after all; she didn't need another repeat of her father trying to break down her door.

"Would you like me to walk you home?"

The notion was tempting, especially with the way his strong hand rested on her lower back, a certain possessiveness that made her feel safe. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her, his touch promised it.

"No, I'll be fine." Anzu was still light on her feet, practically dancing. One date, just one date, and she'd snagged the most eligible bachelor in Domino City. Well, there was Kaiba, but he didn't count.

"You sure?"

"Yes." Pausing in front of a sweets shop, Anzu kissed him again, for once not caring that there was a crowd watching them. "I'll call you tomorrow, all right?"

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Otogi grinned. "All right. Sweet dreams, princess."

Despite her resolve, Anzu still clung to him for several more moments, only partially aware of the swarm of people splitting to either side of them. They were in a rather busy intersection, after all, but not one complaint was voiced. Even at this time of day, passersby were used to road blocks.

Or in this case, sidewalk blocks.

"Goodnight," she whispered again before she turned and headed home, already feeling as if she were being torn in two, losing an intricate part of her.

No one noticed the little redhead in the crowd, staring as Otogi and Anzu parted ways in front of her favorite chocolate shop. Not understanding the flash of jealousy that snuck up her spine, Shizuka backed away a few steps, carefully avoiding the milling mass of people, and clutched her shopping bag to her chest.

Otogi and Anzu.

Shaking her head, she steadfastly ignored her mounting irritation – Anzu was her friend, after all, and Shizuka was adept at putting other people before herself – and crossed the street, keeping her head high and her gaze straight ahead. She passed within inches of Otogi, traveling in the opposite direction, and he still didn't notice her.

Story of her life, really. She often passed under people's radar, and ever since she'd agreed to date Honda – which had clearly been a mistake – Otogi had acted as if she didn't exist. On one hand, she knew that he'd been hurt by her decision, and his subsequent actions had shown how he really felt about her: just another disposable little doll who was no longer worth his attention. On the other hand, seeing Anzu with him, realizing that she wasn't entirely over him after all this time, still filled with regret for not choosing him over Honda…

"Stop it," she hissed softly, neatly dodging what would have been an unfortunate collision with a lamp post. She clearly needed something to take her mind off of the downward spiral her life had decided to descend into. Though the loss of Honda shouldn't really have upset her so much, Shizuka cherished her personal relationships dearly, and Honda had been her first boyfriend. Her first kiss.

She'd defied her brother for him, and he'd left her on the side of the road for that hussy.

Now that was unfair. Shizuka mentally chided herself, staring rather intently at nothing while she did so. Luckily, she missed the strange looks she received. Thinking such cruel thoughts wasn't like her. Miho was pretty and kind and deserved a wonderful boyfriend.

Speaking of who deserved what, Shizuka found herself stopped outside of a coffee shop she'd heard made absolutely delicious white hot chocolate. Figuring that a day of shopping wasn't enough to soothe her nerves, she pushed the door open, fully intending to drink herself into a sugar high. Perhaps then she'd spend more money she couldn't afford to part with, or call her brother and drag him out to the movies, or…something. Anything to keep her mind occupied so she wouldn't have to dwell on how miserable she felt. Shizuka couldn't help but feel guilty, however, for feeling so down in the first place. Her friends depended on her to always be cheerful and upbeat; she was the optimistic one, the shoulder to cry on, the hand to guide in the darkness. Now, when she needed someone the most, Anzu had been the only one she'd felt she could turn to, and yet…

She'd never thought breaking up would be so painful. She rather didn't want to go through it ever again, and fiercely decided that a life of solitude didn't look so bad after all. Shizuka could be an old spinster, a cat lady, the kind of woman everyone pointed at and whispered about because they couldn't understand why she was so content being alone.

Or perhaps not.

She also never thought she'd ever feel anything akin to jealousy, especially when it came to one of her closest friends. It simply wasn't fair, to herself or to Anzu; Shizuka didn't particularly care if it was fair to Otogi or not. It wasn't often that Shizuka disliked someone, but she'd come pretty close with him.

She took her time perusing the menu, standing off to the side so that she wasn't in anybody's way. She had to stand rather close and squint – her eyesight still wasn't perfect, but considering she wasn't blind, she never complained – and silently talked herself out of ordering any of the more fattening items on the menu, such as the delectable sounding cheesecake, or perhaps that fluffy bit of some scrumptious pastry sitting in the window there practically waving a sign at her. After all, just because Honda didn't want her didn't mean she had to eat herself into a gigantic beast. The image of the patrons and workers alike trying to squeeze her massive bulk through the door made her giggle, and she covered her mouth as she hastily made up her mind, not wanting anyone to think she'd lost her mind, standing there laughing at absolutely nothing. But still, the carefree sound made her feel a little lighter.

It wasn't until she was standing in line that she felt a considering gaze brush across her skin. She shivered and reflexively shrank in on herself, glancing around with a hunted look on her face. The bearer of those piercing eyes was the last person she'd expected to see, and the first her gaze fell upon.

Her mouth dropped.

Seto Kaiba.

Her surprise couldn't possibly have been more evident, almost thick enough to reach out and caress. Her eyes were caught in his own, locking her in place like a frightened deer despite his unthreatening demeanor. Not that he looked like a helpless little waif; he simply did not ooze any sort of violent intent, only cold, smug arrogance, which was enough to keep everyone away from him despite his relative fame. Even the way his long, slender fingers curled around a cup of steaming coffee – Seto Kaiba was rarely seen drinking anything but coffee, straight, black, nothing added, as stark as his personality – emanated power, self-assurance; she could still recall his tone of voice as he'd berated one of the servants on the blimp for serving his coffee two degrees two cold, and with a touch of cream. It made Shizuka shiver again, but for another reason entirely.

Power was as attractive as it was untouchable.

When he saw her looking, he snorted and shifted his gaze to the laptop in front of him. Rumors around the city spoke of his laptop being a permanent part of him, like an extended limb, but Shizuka herself had seen him without one. In fact, memories of the tall, imposing figure on the top of the blimp, the harsh wind cutting through his hair and toying with his coat, rose up in her mind. Shizuka almost instantly felt warmer, and her cheeks were certainly heated. Then it was her turn to order, and she found herself facing an even bigger dilemma than whether or not she wanted a shot of vanilla in her cocoa. By the time she paid and received her drink from a smiling, cheerful blonde who looked vaguely familiar, Shizuka had made up her mind. Even so, it took her last reserve of courage not to run away.

She hadn't seen Kaiba in years despite them both living in the same city. Domino was large, but it wasn't that large; the CEO was still a recluse. And to be perfectly honest, he intrigued her. He always had. Shizuka's curiosity was a terrible thing, especially when she allowed it to lead her by the nose. Now, her interest was directed at Kaiba though, in a way, it was his own fault. If he hadn't been staring like some pervert, she wouldn't have known he was there, and then she wouldn't be contemplating what she was contemplating, and…

Taking a deep breath, she headed to his table.

Kaiba barely glanced up when he felt someone's presence nearby, and he almost reflexively said that he wasn't yet ready for a refill on his coffee. He drank it strong and black, with none of the frills that those yuppies insisted on throwing in to ruin the flavor and mar the coloring. They simply couldn't handle real coffee.

When he realized the redhead was the one invading his space, he grunted. Surprisingly, considering he'd barely interacted with the mutt's sister during his tournament, he did recognize her. It had been hard not to notice the girl practically attached to Jounouchi at the hip, and wearing such god awful clothing at that. She must have grown from that frightened little bird who'd begged him to help that white-haired twit to have the courage to approach him so boldly, considering the way she used to recoil when he so much as looked at her. Her sense of style had also matured, from what little he could tell.

He wasn't impressed.

Nonetheless, he found himself leaning back in his chair, regarding her with a neutral expression.

"May I sit with you, Kaiba-san?"

At least she had the brains to show respect. That elevated her in his mind to just above her idiot brother, which didn't say all that much.

Kaiba remained silent, simply continuing to watch her as if the sheer force of his gaze would chase her away. Had it been any other flighty girl, it would have worked like a charm. In fact, it was a weapon he used rather often when he was being pestered at work, or approached on the street when he was clearly busy and had better things to do than be hit on by some awkward teenaged girl who saw only his money. He'd perfected that glare down to utter…well, perfection. There simply was no other term he could apply to it.

It was perfect.

Everything he did was perfect.

He was Seto Kaiba.

Instead of taking his silence the way she should have, she instead flashed him a friendly smile and sat down, pulling a book out of her shopping bag. Her deductive reasoning skills were as lacking at her brother's.

"Hn," was his only response as he returned his attention to his laptop. The girl clearly took after her brother more than he thought despite not looking a thing like the blonde. However, much unlike Jounouchi, she was a quiet creature, sipping her drink and reading and not bothering him with idle chatter. And while it would have been entertaining to send her running out the door in tears, he refrained.

He hoped she appreciated the effort that took. Kaiba had had a rough day at the office – though what day ever went smoothly? – and was just itching to pick a fight with the closest convenient victim. Luckily for her, she wasn't wearing a target on her forehead. At least, not one he was willing to aim for currently.

Soon, her presence ceased to irritate him, and he found himself going so far as to tolerate her. Even with his guard down that tiny amount, it surprised him as his mouth opened when she stood to go, her empty cup and napkin in a tidy little pile in the corner, her book neatly put away in her bag.

"Stay."

A light flush rose unbidden in his cheeks, but that was the only outward sign he gave of being even the least bit flustered. Now, why had he gone and done that? True, her presence did keep away any potential drooling fangirls, and she wasn't bad company, so content to simply sit with him and read her silly little book and refrain from prying into his life.

The single word hung between them for a moment, a breathless instant that stretched into an eternity, carrying with it the aimless chatter around them until the entire café seemed to fall into silence. It stretched even further, growing taunt, quivering momentarily before it broke in her eyes.

Wordlessly, she resumed her seat, and they fell back into their comfortable silence.

"Mom?"

Silence greeted Anzu as she approached her house, still smiling and clinging to the taste of Otogi's lips. However, as she neared the door, her mood began dampened slightly, grasped with an icy fist of irrational fear. Something was wrong. She felt it the same way she'd felt the monster under the bed when she was a child, the way she'd just known there was an ogre lurking in her closet just waiting for the lights to go out.

Someone was usually home at this house, but the family car was gone despite the lights blazing from the windows. Shivering, she began to wish she'd allowed Otogi to walk her home after all, but after making a girlish fool of herself when he'd asked her to be his girlfriend and kissed her so sweetly, she'd had to retain at least some of her dignity. Besides, it had given her time to reflect over what had happened, the sudden turn her life had taken for the better. So much had lifted off her shoulders just knowing that Otogi was there for her.

Now that cloying dread was back, wrapping around her as it did almost every evening when she returned home to her parents bickering, the carpet littered with broken pottery. Clutching the rose in her hand like a sword, determined to plunge it into the heart of any demon that leapt at her from the shadows, she opened the door and padded further inside, not even thinking to turn on the light in the surprisingly dark hallway. After all, if there was an intruder, they already knew she was there; no reason to pinpoint her exact location. And where had that light been coming from, anyway? Upstairs? It was so dark…if someone had broken in, he could be anywhere, waiting for her…

"Mom?" she called out again, not caring anymore if anybody heard her; in fact, she hoped there was someone there to hear her. Panic was coiling around her and she was no longer thinking rationally. Her eyes scanned the darkness as she tried to shake the oppressive air choking out the last scraps of her buoyancy. Trembling, she reached out and flicked on the lights, somehow surprised when an empty hallway greeted her instead of a rearing green dragon.

"Dad?" This time, she was quieter; she preferred to speak with her mother than her father, and was almost afraid of what his reaction would be if he saw the flower and guessed that she'd been on a date. After all, he had jumped to conclusions rather hastily when she'd returned wearing Otogi's clothes; she shuddered to think about what he'd do now.

Perhaps it was best that no one was home, since she wouldn't have to answer any awkward questions. Normally her parents did not pry into her life – something she felt rather bitter about sometimes – so long as she was back before a certain time and kept up with her studies and her dancing, but if they saw the rose, and the flush to her cheeks, and the light in her eyes…

Her parents were meticulous about turning lights off, and she saw the telltale glow coming from the kitchen screaming that someone had forgotten to flick the switch. That wasn't where the light emanated that she'd seen from outside, but it was enough by itself to frighten her. Somehow, she'd neglected to notice it before, streaming into the hallway to mingle with the softer glow from the ceiling fan.

When she entered the kitchen, she gasped and froze, the rose falling to the floor.

The blood had seeped into the cracks between tiles, staining the grout a rusty color and ruining the baby blue mat that had been in front of the sink ever since Anzu had first learned how to walk. An idle portion of her mind quailed, wondering how she would ever get the stains out. Her eyes followed the trail of blood over to her mother's prone form, and her breath hitched, relaxing only when she saw the shallow rise and fall of her mother's chest.

It only took her a few moments to sketch a rudimentary series of events. The kitchen knife was still on the floor, only a few feet away from her mother as if dropped in sudden revelation of the horrible deed that had been done. At least, Anzu hoped that was why it lay so haphazardly, and that her mother's outstretched hand had been trying to ward it off, not grasp it. The stain originated somewhere on the woman's lower back; she couldn't pinpoint the exact location, and the thought of touching her, her own mother, made her start shaking. Bile rising in her throat, she finally broke out of the stunned immobility and lunched for the phone, calling emergency services.

The infuriatingly calm woman on the other line coaxed Anzu to try to relax – as if that could happen – and not to touch her mother. The latter, she couldn't have done if she wanted to, and it made her feel alternately sick and disgusted at herself. If that had been her sprawled on the ground, her mother would have done everything she could to help.

Right?

But Anzu was paralyzed, staring and shaking and not noticing when the phone went dead. She barely even registered when men clad in white burst into her house, swarming over her mother and lifting her onto a stretcher. Strong arms clasped her elbows and lifted her to her feet, asking questions that made no sense to her addled mind. After realizing they weren't getting anything out of her – the girl was clearly in shock – they bustled her into the ambulance with her mother.

They were halfway to the hospital before they were able to get a name and number out of her, someone they could call to watch over her and take her home later. Anzu didn't even notice that they'd neglected to include her mother in the future egress. One thought swirled in her mind over and over until she turned to the side and retched.

Her father was still missing.

Anzu had long since grown silent, having exhausted her reserve of hysteria on Otogi's now-damp shirt. She sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair again, staring listlessly at the floor and trying to shut out everything but Otogi's warm arm around her shoulders. She was nearly as silent and lifeless as when she'd fallen into shock, but there was color to her skin, and her eyes weren't nearly so dark and empty. If Otogi hadn't shown up…

It wasn't easy, blocking out the noises ever-prevalent in the emergency room. There was a child nearby sobbing for his mother, while another person sat patiently waiting holding an almost sodden cloth against a bleeding wound. The typical medicinal smell that permeated every hospital in existence seemed heavier somehow, cloying, trying to choke her as the unfamiliar panic had back at her home. The air was thick with sickness and death, practically quivering with pain and sorrow, and the brunette began to fear she would faint.

Or, worse, sick up again.

An eternity later – or perhaps just an hour, maybe more, maybe less – the doctor who had attempted to soothe her earlier came out, looking tired. Anzu couldn't help but notice that he had changed his white jacket for another that was just a bit too big, as if he'd had to hastily switch garments.

Fear twisted her insides again, and for a moment, she didn't wish to hear what he had to say. Reflexively, her hand sought out Otogi's, and he gripped her tightly, giving her a comforting squeeze.

"Mazaki-san?" He didn't sound tired, at least. When Anzu merely looked at him, he continued. "We were able to stop the bleeding and patch up the wounds. Your mother is stable, but she's not out of danger yet. She lost a lot of blood…"

Anzu's mind stubbornly latched onto 'stable' and she nearly missed the rest. Her mother was strong; she would fight every inch until she was better. Anzu just knew it.

"She is still unconscious, but we suspect she will wake up soon."

"How soon?" Otogi's arm around her shoulders tightened, and the hand gripping her own clutched at her almost painfully.

The doctor spread his hands. "An hour, a day, a few days; it is impossible to tell. Her body needs to heal. But I can guarantee that she will wake up."

"A few days isn't soon," she muttered, then flushed when she realized she was being ungrateful. If she hadn't shown up when she had, if she hadn't called the ambulance, if this doctor hadn't worked as hard as he had…she couldn't even continue the train of thought. Strange; she'd never treasured her mother this much just yesterday.

"Thank you. For saving her." Inhaling deeply, she even managed a smile. Her mother was alive. Everything else could be taken one step at a time.

The doctor smiled kindly. "You may visit with her, but I will have to ask you to leave in a few hours. I will be keeping her here in ICU until tomorrow morning to ensure that she remains stable, and then we will move her to an ordinary room. You will be informed, but if you miss the call, the front desk will have all the information you will need. I believe she is out of immediate danger, but I prefer to err on the side of caution."

"But I can see her after…?"

"In the morning, bright and early. Visiting hours begin at eight, but I will let the nurse's know to let you in earlier." He tilted his head slightly, concern etching his voice for the first time that night. "However, I suggest you sleep…"

Anzu nodded and dropped her gaze, which caused the doctor to pause, glancing over at Otogi. The boy gave her one last squeeze and then stood up, drawing the doctor to the side and speaking with him in hushed tones. After a few minutes, the doctor left and Otogi was kneeling in front of her.

"C'mon, Anzu-chan. Your mother needs you."

That shook her out of her daze, and the dancer was beginning to wonder if perhaps the doctor was right. She'd just had a terribly shock and probably did need to rest; but first, she had to see her mother, let the woman know she was here for her.

She let Otogi lead her through the double doors, ignoring the beep of machinery and the low hum of chatter. Pungent scents invaded her nostrils and her skin grew clammy again, a familiar feeling welling up in her belly. Pausing to empty the contents of her stomach in a nearby restroom, Otogi gently stroking her back, Anzu finally felt strong enough to face her mother again.

She barely recognized the woman lying in bed with tubes hooked up to her pale, sallow skin. Dark circles surrounded her sunken eyes, and her breathing, while probably considered safely in the zone of normalcy to doctors, seemed awfully stilted to Anzu. The rise and fall of her mother's chest wasn't as strong as she would have liked. The dark ambiance seemed to suit the sickly feel of the room and, feeling belligerent, Anzu strode to the tiny desk, turning on the lamp and sighing in slight relief as the shadows were banished.

Then, after a glance at Otogi for strength, she pulled up a chair and sat down, taking her mother's hand and gently stroking the skin. Her mother didn't so much as twitch, and tears burned in the brunette's eyes.

"Mom," she whispered, learning her head down to press her cheek against her mother's fingers. "Please don't die."