Last Stop

AN: I SWEAR I WILL FINISH YOU, LS! It's not that I want this joy ride o' mine to end or anything, it's just that I really want to finally finish a story, you know? Then I can move on to these other story ideas floating around in my head saying 'write me, write me!'. Yeah . . . thanks to all those who reviewed! 194 and counting, w00t! (Gawd, I'm gonna like, break frickin' 200. Craziness. -Luffs you all so much :D-)

This chapter starts out slow (with good reason . . . I'm building up to it!), but then picks up (um . . . well, maybe it's just slow in general?). Just a warning so you don't start yelling at me with, "That was so goddamn boring, what the hell were you thinking!" (Of course, none of you would actually say that to me in those terms . . . I think?)

Oh yes, and the second half of this chapter is very music-oriented . . . more talk about that at then end of the chapter, though.

Chapter Nine: The Melancholy of Christmas Carols

"I think you should tell them," I said seriously, glancing up at Hitomi over the journalism notes I'd been riffling through. At the other end of the couch, she pretended to ignore me, sipping at her hot tea daintily as she watched the news. With a scowl, I went back to reading my notes on a new restaurant in town that I had to review, The Crusade. Overall, it was an alright restaurant (now if only I could be so concise in an article, my life would be so much easier!).

"Why do you want me to tell them so much? Why can't it be a surprise?" Hitomi asked, leaning back on the couch, her hair in disarray, giving me a blank, yet alluring, look. Resisting the urge to get up and kiss her, I glared at her for playing games with me.

"Because I think your parents have the right to know we're engaged beforehand," I said. "Haven't you ever watched movies? Nothing good ever comes from surprising parents with engagements."

"That only happens when the parents don't know who their child is engaged to, but my parents have already met you," Hitomi said with a laugh. "Nice try, though."

I put my notes down with a sigh, getting up to sit next to her (while mentally correcting her atrocious grammar). "The fact that they've already met me is exactly the problem . . ."

"What do you mean?" she asked defiantly. I turned away, thinking of the best way to put what I was thinking into words. Cupping my chin in her hands, Hitomi forced me to look at her, her fiery eyes boring into mine. I knew I was treading on dangerous waters then, but I didn't care. (Okay, maybe I cared just a little bit.)

"Well . . ." I began, trailing off. What I was going to say would probably offend her, and I really didn't know how she would take it, but I said it anyway. "Your mother . . . didn't really seem to like me."

"That's not true!" she exclaimed, pushing my face away roughly. She leaned back again, haughtily, with her arms folded in front of her chest. Even when mad, she was cute. "How can you think such a thing? What gave you that idea?"

"Nothing . . ." I murmured, knowing it was pointless to fight with her; still, I pressed one last time, for the sake of argument, you know. "You should still tell them before we . . ." Her lips locked with mine before I could even finish, causing me to lose my thoughts in the sheer passion of it. She nipped at my bottom lip as if saying shut up and kiss me, stupid, because I sure as hell am not listening to whatever you're saying! By the end of the mind-ravaging kiss, I let out a throaty moan and Hitomi was on top of me as we lay sprawled on the couch.

Hitomi smirked at me while stroking my cheek, her eyes dancing triumphantly. Allowing me to catch my breathe, she played with my hair absently. Her fingertips against my scalp sent chills down my spine, and the ends of her silky, sandy brown hair tickled my face.

"Damn you," was all I could say.

"Love you!" she said playfully, nuzzling her face into my neck before flopping her head on the pillow to look at me again. "I win," she said lowly.

"You win," I conceded, pulling her closer to me, close enough that our foreheads touched on the pillow. All work forgotten, I simply sighed and gave Hitomi a peck on the cheek, allowing my hands to wander under her shirt. She stiffened slightly, but I simply caressed her back, needing to feel her skin, making sure my hands went neither too high nor too low, lest I ruin the moment (which I always seemed to do).

This time, however, Hitomi broke the silence first. "Promise me something," she said, her fingers gently brushing my neck.

"Mm-hm," I replied lazily, shifting my face even closer to hers, wanting so badly to have a tongue war with her.

"Promise me you won't buy me a Christmas present."

Hitomi's statement made me temporarily forget my fascination with her lips (which I had watched longingly as she spoke). I laughed at the absurdity of the statement. "What do you mean? You want me to make you something from scratch? From the heart? Because I wish you'd told me sooner if that's what you wanted."

"Van, I'm being serious. And you know that's not what I meant," Hitomi said, a bit hurt, causing her lower lip to jut out slightly. It was very distracting, especially as her thumb somehow came to trace the corner of my mouth. "I just think that, well, since we have to save money now, we shouldn't buy each other presents, because that's a waste of money, right?"

"I guess," I said automatically.

"Were you even listening to me?" she asked, staring at me hard and bewildered.

"Yeah. No Christmas presents. Waste of money. Got it," I said, my lips mere millimeters away from hers. "But I was really thinking about how much I want to kiss you senseless," I whispered.

I never gave her time to respond to that.

oOo

This time, Hitomi let me drive to her parent's house. Originally, she hadn't wanted me to, saying that it put all that extra stress on me, but, being me, I pleaded until she saw it my way (I should be the judge of what does and does not stress me out! I mean, since it didn't rain or snow or anything, how could it stress me out?). Although a smidgen lengthier than a train, it was a much nicer and peaceful ride, in my opinion. We talked most of the way up; I could see her trying to stay awake as she held my arm. Eventually, though, she drifted off to sleep. The sight made me smile.

We arrived at her parent's house about ten o'clock Thursday night. Since Christmas fell on a Sunday, Hitomi wanted to stay Friday to Monday, so that 'Friday we won't get too caught up in Christmas preparations, and then we have Monday after Christmas to rest'. By my reasoning, her plan made sense, so I took off work Friday and Monday. Hitomi complained that I should take the whole week after Christmas off, since I never used any vacation days, but I decided against it; you never know when you'll really need those days, right?

Parked in the Kanzaki driveway, I gawked at all the colorful lights and decorations set up outside. On the roof, the words Merry Christmas blared, and Santa waved happily from his sled, pulled by his reindeer. String lights, cast down from the roof, created a multi-colored Christmas tree. Reefs hung from all the windows and fake candles blazed on the sill. I'd never pictured the Kanzaki's as being highly religious people. (Then again, in today's world, who needs religion to celebrate Christmas?)

Tearing myself away from my fascination with the decorations, I wondered whether or not I should wake up Hitomi or carry her to her room. I figured she'd hate me if I did the latter, so I gently shook her arm, whispering her name. No reaction. I smiled, turning her face towards mine and giving her a few pats on the cheek. A slight reaction. Deftly, I moved in for the kill, catching her earlobe between my teeth before sliding to her mouth; by then, however, she was completely awake.

"What was that about?" she asked. In the dim lighting from inside the house and from the street lamps, I noted a blush. I smiled with satisfaction.

"Nothing. Just waking you up, my lovely heavy sleeper," I replied, getting out of the car and opening the trunk. She, too, got out of the car to join me at the trunk, taking things from me as I removed them. I made sure to carry the heaviest things myself, however, because I'm a sexist bastard (I'm not really a sexist bastard . . .).

"I don't think my parents would appreciate you roughing me up in the car," she said, mock-sternly, as we began walking towards the house with our things.

"I wasn't 'roughing you up'," I said, mock-indignantly. "I was simply waking you up . . . unless you want me to rough you up?" I asked slyly. I most certainly wouldn't have minded, after all.

Hitomi gave me a weak smile as she knocked on the door. Almost immediately, her mother answered, engulfing Hitomi in that motherly embrace. I stood awkwardly off to the side, watching and smiling softly, somehow envying their close mother and daughter bond. "Hello, sweetheart," I heard her mother whisper. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too, mom," Hitomi said sincerely. Mrs. Kanzaki pulled back and took Hitomi's bags then, leading her daughter inside. Although I was never invited in, I followed quietly, putting our luggage down just as Mrs. Kanzaki had. Inside, Mamoru sat on the couch in a plain white t-shirt and red boxers, watching a sitcom. Mr. Kanzaki put down the newspaper he'd been reading on a recliner to greet his daughter. He smiled when he saw me, almost as if in shock.

"Well well, if it isn't Van," he said, amused. "We didn't scare you away on your last visit?"

I laughed. "No, Mister-- I mean, Sadato," I quickly corrected myself, albeit I did forget that I was supposed to call him 'dad.'

Mr. Kanzaki laughed, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "Good, good, you remembered not to make me feel like an old cripple!"

"Damn, he must be a real keeper if we didn't scare him last time and he still remembers all that little crap," Mamoru said as he got up and stretched, his tawny muscles flexing as he ran both hands through his choppy blond hair. He smirked at me in his I'm-too-cool-for-you way. Returning the smirk in a watch-it, smart-ass way, he nevertheless greeted me with a, "Nice to see you."

After that, Hitomi and I chatted with her family until about eleven thirty. Mostly Hitomi talked, catching them up on her life, as they did the same. I sat there politely, listening to Hitomi tell them everything I already knew. Mr. and Mrs. Kanzaki claimed not to have done much-- "the same old same old"-- while Mamoru enthusiastically related the success of his band at school and around town. When asked how school was actually going, he simply shrugged and smiled, saying "As good as it can go for me."

"Your usual marginal passing grades, then," Hitomi sneered.

"It's all good," Mamoru replied nonchalantly.

All of us retired to bed by midnight. Hitomi again slept on the couch with me, snuggling into me. I was saddened, though, that this time we were fully clothed because of the freezing weather. Her arm, draped over my stomach, felt warm, but her hand was freezing. As I rubbed her hand with mine, she fell asleep, her head resting on my chest (what ashame I had a red wool shirt on). Happily, I too fell asleep.

But all the sleep in the world couldn't have prepared me for Friday.

oOo

Lazily, I opened my eyes, disappointed to find that Hitomi no longer laid next to me. Groggily, I sat up, turning around at the sounds cupboards being opened, plates being set, food sizzling. Mr. Kanzaki sat at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper while sipping his coffee. Mrs. Kanzaki cooked breakfast, while Hitomi, already ready for the day dressed in jeans and a red sweater, set the table. She smiled when she noticed me watching her sleepily from the sofa bed, the sheets still haphazardly covering my legs.

She only gave me a peck on the cheek, due to her father's stares. "Good morning, Van," she said, running a hand through my thoroughly messy hair. It felt nice to feel her fingers on my scalp so early in the morning.

"Good morning," I muttered, still trying to shake off sleep.

"Breakfast is almost done. You can go get dressed, if you want." Hitomi gave my hair one last good run through before going back to setting the table. Putting the couch back in order, I glanced out the window. Outside, snow fell, coming down at a decent rate.

"It's snowing," I said, like a fascinated first grader in a daze, marveling at the sheer purity of it all. Yeah. That's how incoherent I was.

"It's supposed to snow all day. We're supposed to get anywhere from six to eight inches," Mrs. Kanzaki said, never missing a beat in her cooking. That was the first time she'd spoken to me during this second trip. And she'd spoken in such a monotone way, about such a mundane subject. But I didn't let that upset me . . . it was still a bit too early to be upset.

Only a bit, though.

Breakfast, just as on my first visit, started normally. Mr. and Mrs. Kanzaki chatted with each other about the news and whatnot, while Mamoru, Hitomi, and I talked about less sophisticated things, like school and punk music. And our relationship. Mamoru was actually genuinely interested in Hitomi and I, what we did for fun, if we were happy, what we intended to do in the future. I suppose the future part clicked Hitomi's brain into drive. With a glance at me, she gave a soft smile. By now, her parents had stopped talking to one another, no doubt listening in on our conversation.

"Van and I have something to tell you." Hitomi's parents looked at us slowly, already knowing what was coming; I mean, duh, even Mamoru could figure out that we were going to say the word "engaged." What other something could there be? We've all watched those cliched movies that I mentioned earlier. 'Oh yeah, I just brought Van home to tell you we broke up.' That's not usually how it goes (although it would be a nice twist to a movie, don't you think?).

No one replied to Hitomi's statement.

With our fingers interlocked and her head on my shoulder, Hitomi said the words everyone already guessed, for the dramatic effect of it all. "We're engaged."

Another uneasy silence.

"That's great, honey," Mr. Kanzaki said softly, with a far away look in his eyes; the look that said my daughter is all grown up and doesn't need me anymore . . . Despite this, he managed a smile, giving me a curious scan. "Now you really must call me dad, you know."

"Okay . . ."

"Told you he was a keeper," Mamoru drawled, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Hitomi looked up at me, her eyes dancing with both joy and love. I kissed her forehead, but remained apprehensive.

"When did this happen?" Mrs. Kanzaki asked quietly, staring down at the the table blankly, as if in deep concentration.

"When Van took me to dinner at the Escaflowne," Hitomi replied happily.

"I see . . ."

As if on cue, Mamoru rose to give his sister a hug, to take all the tension away. I thought it was kind of adorable, watching two completely opposite siblings giving each other a hug . . . I decided to focus on their cuteness rather than Mrs. Kanzaki's evil glares. "Sis, I'm happy for you. You finally came out of the box." Mamoru looked over at me, an evil grin on his face. "Van, Van, Van, we need to spend more time together, male-bonding, see if you're worthy of my sister and all that good junk."

"I look forward to it."

"Well, you men can have your bonding time by going grocery shopping this afternoon, while Hitomi and I clean around the house."

Even Hitomi felt the chill of her mother's curt turn in conversation.

oOo

Walking down the aisles at the grocery store, slightly behind Sadato and Mamoru, made me feel embarrassed and out-of-place. I kept telling myself not to feel that way, that, since Hitomi and I were to be joined in holy matrimony and all that good junk, these people were my family. But thinking about being part of a family, a real family, made me queasy. On Christmas, all of Hitomi's relatives would gather at her house for dinner. They, too, would be part of my family. My family. I shuddered involuntarily, jolts of joy, terror, and unsureness ruining through my veins. A life with Hitomi. Included in a real family. I couldn't get over it.

Especially the fact that Mrs. Kanzaki appeared to hate my guts.

But then, I thought, Mamoru and Sadato liked me.

And then my thoughts reverted back to the fact that Mrs. Kanzaki didn't like me.

It was just one big circle of crazy thoughts.

Sadato fell into step with me, giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it," he said simply.

The gesture comforted me.

His advice was terribly wrong.

oOo

The moment I put one foot through the doorway, Hitomi pushed me back out, grocery bags and all.

Snow continued to fall steadily, the skies a light gray and quickly darkening for the early onset of night. The temperature, already below freezing, dropped little by little. On the ground, layers of snow crunched under our feet. Children in the distance could be heard playing in the seasonal pleasure. Practically stumbling from Hitomi's fierce shove, I studied her in shock. She'd obviously been waiting for me, for she had on a pair of faded green boots, navy blue mittens, a white winter cap, and a puffy, white winter coat. I, too, wore a warm jacket and hat, but I had no boots, and only had a pair of tattered gloves to warm my hands. I wanted to go inside, if only to stay warm.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, unable to control it. "I have to take these bags inside."

Silently, but with an annoyed expression, Hitomi took the bags from me, opened the door, dropped the food inside, and closed the door again swiftly. She took my hand and led me away from the house before I could say anything else.

"Hitomi, what's wrong? Where are we going?" Halting her, I spun her around and embraced her, stroking the ends of her hair not covered by her hat, although neither of us could feel it.

The eyes I loved so much narrowed, glaring up at me menacingly. "You were right, that's what's wrong. And don't say 'I told you so'."

I shrugged. "So long as you know I told you so, I see no reason for me to say it."

Hitomi pushed away from me, on the verge of tears.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

I caught her hands again, worried this time. She tried to wiggle away. "Hitomi, seriously, you have to talk to me. So your mom doesn't like me so much . . . does it really upset you this badly?"

"Yes," she said meekly. My body stiffened.

"Why?"

She shook her head, avoiding my gaze. "I don't know . . ."

"I love you," I said forcefully. "I love you more than anything."

Our eyes finally locked as tears began to spill down her cheeks. Hastily, I swiped them away, fearing the cold. We were both already snow covered and chilled. Chilled to the core. "I know you do. But so does my mother. And I love you both. Don't you see . . ?"

I saw, but I didn't want to. I never imagined this would happen. I never imagined Hitomi would question our future just because someone else opposed it.

"What are you saying?" I asked hoarsely. "Who cares what your mother thinks?" I continued, outraged.

"I do!" Hitomi exclaimed, angry and hurt by my outburst. Her hands slipped out of mine. And it seemed as though her heart was slipping away from me, too.

"Then what the hell are you saying? Would you break it off with me just to please your mother?"

"I don't know what I'm saying!" she choked, pivoting away from me. "Just leave me alone. You wouldn't understand!"

I wanted to run after her, in my mind, I really did. In my mind, I wanted to talk her down, to knock some sense into her, to prove how much I loved her. Unlike my mind, however, my heart slowed, shutting down, making the frigid air hard to inhale. Snowflakes fluttered like feathers on the nippy wind, blurring my vision. Hitomi disappeared in the swirling mess, in the deepening darkness. And I stood there, frozen in place, wondering what to do. What could I do? Where could I go? I had no idea where Hitomi had gone; I couldn't bear to go back to the Kanzaki household. There was nowhere to go, nowhere I belonged.

"You wouldn't understand."

I slid to the ground in a heap on the corner, feeling numb as snow surrounded me.

And just sat there.

oOo

"Van!" Hitomi cried shrilly, franticly, desperately, disturbing the peace, clutching onto me as though if she let go, I'd be gone. But I was far from gone, and her high-pitched cry made me flinch. She couldn't have been gone for more than half an hour, a half an hour in which I did nothing, except sit and stare.

It must have looked awkward, to see us on the corner, illuminated by the reflection of street lights on snow, clinging to each other.

"Van, what are you doing?" Hitomi sobbed, tearing off her mittens to feverishly rub my (surely blue) lips. "What the hell are you doing?"

Hitomi must've been really upset to be cursing. Yet I ignored her question.

"Not so loud . . . Where have you been?" I asked haughtily.

"Are you okay? Your cheeks are so cold . . ." Hitomi said, tilting my face, giving me a thorough examination.

"You don't have frost bite, do you? Your fingers are freezing . . ." I said fretfully.

"Why didn't you go home?"

"How could you have left me here?"

We glared at each other.

"Van--"

"Hitomi--"

"Why aren't you listening to me?" we yelled simultaneously while hugging each other tightly. Hitomi whimpered into my chest, grasping my jacket with a shaking hand. I spoke calmly as I rose, supporting her with both arms around her waist. We walked back to her house, arms linked, in silence, desperate to warm ourselves.

Even Mamoru seemed mildly concerned, staring at us from the couch when we walked through the door. Anna Kanzaki stopped cleaning the dishes, turning to us with tired eyes, obviously worn out the day's events (whatever they had been). Sadato sat in the same chair as the day before, distraught while reading a book, shaking his head at us. I sensed that the two had a fight. Hitomi, adding to the tension, took off her jacket and other garments in a rush, leaving them hanging, soaking, on the coat rack by the door. Hastily, she placed my things there, too, then dragged me to her room, slamming and locking the door behind us.

Hitomi turned on her small reading lamp. In the eerie shadows, she shivered. I stood against the door, wondering what to do, wondering what to say. But seeing her shiver, I knew what to do, if only in that moment. Pulling back the covers of the bed, I scooped her up, placed her down gently, then crawled in with her. Curiously, I glanced at her clock.

We couldn't have been outside for more than twenty minutes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pained. "I'm sorry for what I said . . ."

I quelled her with a light kiss. "Shush. Don't say anything."

"But your cheeks, your lips, they're so cold." She stroked my cheek with her thumb, concern etched on her face, eyes sparkling with worry in the dim light.

Taking her hand in mine, I brushed her fingertips to my lips. "Then warm them," I said playfully, desperate for a distraction.

Her lips quirked into a slight smile before meeting mine.

I swear to God she came on to me. She always did, in a sort of playful, "come get me if you really want me" way, never with a straight forward "I want you now." No, no, it started with simple butterfly kisses, to tease, to make me want more, to make me beg. And trust me, I would beg, would let out a soft, pitiful whimper, would press her ever closer to me. Her hands, ruffling my hair, sliding down the back of my neck, tracing my spine, drove me crazy.

We were warm after only a minute. But I didn't want to be warm, I wanted to be hot and satisfied.

Hitomi lightly nipped my bottom lip, sending quivers of joy and need through my body; or perhaps it was want, they both seemed the same at the time. Looking back, I believe they went hand in hand, needing and wanting; I wanted her because I needed her, I needed her because I might die from wanting so badly. Deepening the kiss tenfold, I rolled over, pinning her underneath me for more control, for better access. She complied willingly, all the while driving me insane with her sensuous tongue. But I needed more, more than just her lips, as I slid down to her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders. Her skin seemed so perfect. And still I needed more.

Already under her shirt, I caressed her breasts, so tender to the touch. Hitomi tensed, but made no move to stop me in my quest.

She waited until I tried to remove her sweater to pull back.

It wasn't the first time I'd tried to have sex with Hitomi, and it obviously wasn't the first time she'd stopped me, either. For all my trying, I had scored zero with her. After the first couple of tries, I admit, I basically gave up, but I still pushed, sometimes, like now, in her room. It really pissed me off that she turned me on, made me lose my head, made me make the first real move, then put up all these shields and barriers to keep me out and turn me off, like a power switch. Unfortunately, I'm much more complicated (I think) than a simple power switch, and my sexual desires were very hard to shut off once turned on.

When I attempted to talk about it, Hitomi always gave me the same answers. "I'm not ready," or "It's too soon," sometimes even the "I want to wait until I'm married" line. This time, though, this time was different. It was the first time I had attempted since our engagement. Did she really want to wait until we were married? Or . . .

"Are you scared?" I asked, looking directly into her eyes.

She flinched and looked away.

"V-Van, this isn't the time or the place . . ." she began, in a hollow, weak-stern voice.

"Then why did you start it? And you're avoiding the question."

She squirmed under me, but I kept her pinned there. Fear welled in her eyes briefly, then passed on to defeat. Or acceptance, now that I reflect upon it. "You started it. And I don't want to talk about this now . . ."

"I do."

"I don't want to fight with you," she pleaded, leaning up to give me a halfhearted kiss. "Please."

"Who said we're going to fight? Just answer the question. Are you scared?"

She sighed. "I'm scared, okay? Happy?"

"Not really," I said, giving her an apologetic kiss on the cheek. "Why are you scared to make love to me?"

"Van!" she hissed lowly, the anger from earlier seeping through. "I said I don't want to talk about it now!"

I ignored her angry outbursts, mildly surprised by them. "Are you not attracted to me? Is that why?"

Tears began to pool in her eyes as the short burst of anger drained away. "That has nothing to do with it. I'm attracted to you. I want you."

"Then why don't you take me?" I asked in a hurt voice. I couldn't understand what she was telling me. I couldn't read between the lines. I could only think that she didn't want me or love me enough to make love to me. "I want you. I give myself to you. But you never take me."

"Because I'm scared, Van. Don't you understand?" she choked, tears falling down her cheeks, the light reflecting off them. She looked so fragile and small below me. And beautiful, always beautiful.

I shook my head, leaning against her forehead, pleading. "No, I don't understand. What are you scared of? Tell me."

"You wouldn't understand," she sobbed, breaking down in silent anguish. Sorry without reason for the words I'd said, I comforted her, stroked her hair, kissed away her tears, blathered about how sorry I was, whispered calming nothingnesses in her ear.

All the while thinking about how that was the second time that day she'd said I wouldn't understand.

oOo

Sleep came easily to Hitomi that night, even with her tossing, twitching, and turning. The day had certainly made me weary, I certainly wanted to go to sleep, yet sleep would not come to me; my mind would not shut off. At midnight, I found myself by the window, seeing but not registering the reflection of the moon and lights off the snow. Only one thought ran through my mind:

Why is Hitomi scared?

For the life of me I couldn't figure it out. It couldn't simply be the "I'm scared, this is my first time, what does it feel like?" fear, because that, in my mind, could not hold that acute of a grip on anyone. And it wasn't even a fear, really. If you were attracted to someone, you would definitely want them, no? So Hitomi didn't want me? But she'd said herself that she did, and I could tell from our current physical intimacy that she was telling the truth.

So what, then?

"Van?" I jumped at the sound of Hitomi's voice, quickly facing her to mask my surprise.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" I asked innocently, kissing her forehead. "Go back to sleep."

"No, you didn't wake me. . . . Can't you sleep?" she asked tiredly. I guess her mind wouldn't shut off, either.

"No, I can't. But you should," I said, moving closer to put her back in bed. She, however, put a hand on my chest to stop me.

"It's because of me you can't sleep . . ."

"No--" I said, trying to interrupt her. But with her fingers on my lips, I gave up.

"I have something to tell you," she said lowly, darkly, sadly. Guiltily. "Something I should have told you a long while ago."

"Okay," I said, uncertainly.

Hitomi took a deep breath, closing her eyes to avoid my unblinking gaze. "I am not a virgin."

At first I wasn't sure if I'd heard her right. Hitomi, not a virgin? My innocent and naïve Hitomi, who was scared to have sex with me, had sex with another man? Then why the hell not me? And why was she scared now? Had she fucking cheated on me or something, right under my lovesick nose? My thoughts went from flabbergasted to angry to questioning in only a matter of seconds. I couldn't say anything. I might have screamed if I did.

"I was raped."

All the thoughts I had prior to that statement hit a brick wall. Hitomi, raped? My innocent and certainly not naïve Hitomi, scared to have sex with me because another man took advantage of her boundless kindness? Why hadn't she told me sooner? It explained some of the gaps in my reasoning. Like why she gave me a fearful look earlier. My thoughts went from shocked to questioning to sad and scared. Again, I couldn't say anything. I just couldn't believe I'd assumed she was a virgin. (Forever remember that to assume makes an "ass" of "u" and "me.")

"I'm so sorry . . ." Hitomi said, backing away, face buried in her hands. She sobbed softly. "I'm sorry I never told you, Van. I'm sorry I never told you the reason I'm scared."

Silence.

"Say something," she choked. I stared at her hard, closing the gap between us to deliver a soft, yet passionate, kiss. It lingered in the air as she stifled another sob.

"Why? Why would anyone do such a thing to you?" was all I could think to ask.

She shrugged, moving towards the window, away from me. "He was a really nice guy."

"Obviously he was not a really nice guy," I seethed, coming up behind her, draping my arms over her shoulders, fingers intertwining with hers.

Hitomi stayed silent for a moment, conforming, melting into my body unconsciously. "Maybe not. But when I first met him during freshman year at college, he seemed really nice. He was never popular, and not so good looking, and I think others teased him behind his back, but he always made me smile. He had some compelling cuteness about him. When he finally asked me out, I said yes. I think I sort of pitied him. But still, at eighteen, I thought I loved him. . . ." She trailed off, eyes fixed on the shimmering snow.

Directly into her ear, I whispered, "And then what happened?"

She turned to look me in the eyes for the first time that day. Hitomi's eyes, so exhausted, consumed, distressed, sucked me into their drowning reverie. With a sad smile, she continued. "I don't know what happened, exactly. I think somewhere in his heart he always wanted to be popular, to stop the teasing. Always wanted a girl to give him everything, to . . . obey him, for lack of a better word." She paused to collect her thoughts, skipping over what, I'm sure, were painful details. "The day seemed normal, you know? He invited me over, to study, he said. Of course I complied with something as simple as studying. We did that often. But when I walked through the door, he practically jumped me. It was so unexpected . . . it overwhelmed me."

Her body tightened against mine. "I told him to stop. I yelled 'no' over and over, but it didn't reach him. It didn't reach anybody. Instead he beat me, told me to shut up. He tied my hands behind my back, bound my feet together, gagged me, laid me on his couch. I don't know where his strength came from; I never believed him to be that strong. I never imagined he could take advantage of me. That day made me realize how weak I was. And foolish."

"You're not weak," I said soothingly, kissing her ear in utmost pain and love, "or foolish."

Hitomi gave me a genuine smile; it made my heart soar. "You only think that because you're a crazy lovesick puppy," she said playfully, giving me a teaser kiss. "And maybe I'm not so weak or so foolish anymore. But I was then."

I guess, as her smile faded into the darkness once again, I could only lighten the mood for so long.

"He kept me tied up, bleeding and naked and helpless, for five hours. He paced and paced his place when he wasn't . . . concerned with me. Eventually he released me, just let me go, didn't threaten me about telling the police or anything. I think he realized he'd made a horrible mistake. I ran straight back to the dormitory and called the police. They arrested him, said he gave up without a fight. He expected them, I know. He even confessed to the crime outright. That's when I started to feel sorry for him again. It was just a lapse in his sanity . . . But I've feared him ever since, though he's in prison."

"This is why you're scared. Your mind is scarred."

"There's more," she said dryly. "I got pregnant."

My head jerked back in astonishment, the breath catching in my throat.

"Y-You . . ." I stuttered, trying to think my way through. "You had an abortion, right? And then everything was fine?"

"No." Hitomi shook her head lightly, her hair tickling my neck despite the situation. "I don't believe in abortions. They're the killings of innocent life."

"So?" I blurted incredulously. "You were raped."

"So?" she countered fiercely with a tint of sadness in her voice. "So I should punish the child for his stupidity? For my stupidity? It shouldn't live because of that? The rape wasn't the child's fault. It didn't deserve to be killed."

I wasn't so convinced, but I eased off, respecting Hitomi's fervent anti-abortionist beliefs. "Then what did you do? Put the child up for adoption?"

"No," she said flatly. "I wanted to keep the child."

I let out a frustrated breath. But I tried to keep my calm, if I had any calm left in me. Ominousness hung in the air. "What happened, then?"

She buried her face in my shirt and said nothing.

I knew for certain then that her child had died.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. Honestly, why is that the only thing we can say when others are sad? Why is that the only thing we can say when we don't know what to say? Even though I meant it, the phrase came out so hollow. I wanted to do something more, to say something more. But I ceded that I couldn't.

"I dropped out of school. I didn't do anything I wasn't supposed to. I visited the doctors regularly. I did everything," she sobbed, her tears seeping through my shirt, making me cold, icing my heart. "Everything," she repeated angrily. I'd never seen Hitomi angry at the world. Her expression softened again quickly, etched in sorrow and loss. "I went into labor only two weeks before he was due. I hadn't known it was a boy until after I'd given birth. But by then he was already dead."

"A stillbirth," I said, feeling my eyes begin to water.

"A stillbirth," she repeated, unable to breathe.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" I asked, salty, burning water trickling down my cheeks.

Still pressed to my chest, Hitomi gave a less than halfhearted laugh. "I told you, because I'm foolish. I wanted to get over my fears by myself. It's stupid to be scared of you, I know. I know it, but I can't get over it. And now we're engaged." She squeezed my hand. "I never expected that. I couldn't just tell you then, when you proposed. I should have, but I couldn't."

"You lied to me," I accused. "You lied to me about the pills."

"I didn't lie," she defended. "I just . . . didn't tell the whole truth."

"You said it had nothing to do with not trusting me."

She faltered and looked down at the ground. "So maybe I did lie to you . . . But I didn't mean to. When we were walking up the stairs, I fully intended to tell you the truth. Then . . . I couldn't."

"What about your family? The jokes they made about you? Why didn't they say anything? Did they lie, too? Or are you lying to me now?" I asked, angered and confused, sad and understanding, all at the same time.

"They didn't lie!" she growled, tapping into another of her bursts of anger. "They know not to bring up the subject. They respect who and when I want to tell people."

I let go of her to lean my forehead against the wall. This was way too much information, too many emotions to feel, for midnight. My head was spinning.

"Van, forgive me," she pleaded, wrapping her arms around my waist, nuzzling her head against my back. "Please."

"I can't believe you," I whispered, on the verge of crying again, leaning harder against the wall. "I can't fucking believe you, Hitomi."

"Van--"

I spun around, glaring her fiercely in the eye. There arose that fear again. "I can't believe, after all the crap you've taught me, that you never listened to your own goddamn advice."

oOo

No one woke up early the next day, another dark, cloudy, and cold day. Oddly enough, Hitomi woke up first. When I woke up at eight-- surprisingly, the second to awaken-- she was making breakfast for herself, or so I thought. Turned out the food was for me. But I felt exhausted and disheveled. And Hitomi looked it, too, as she cooked sluggishly, slightly hunched over. Her eyes, puffy and pink from crying, wouldn't spare me a glance. As Hitomi cooked in silence, Mamoru came downstairs, fully clothed for the day and looking extremely down.

Of the five of us, I figured Mamoru would be the most peppy; after all, virtually none of our fighting involved him in any way, shape, or form. But I suppose it was hard to be happy, when everyone else around him was sad. I knew how he felt.

"Sis, we should go sledding or have a snowball fight later."

At the time, I found his statement absurdly frivolous, but now I see that it was the perfect thing to say to pick us all up. To take our minds off things.

"Okay," Hitomi replied softly, bringing my breakfast over to where I sat at the table. We gave each other a small kiss on the lips in good morning. It certainly didn't feel like a good morning, after all.

"Then I want you to listen to a song the guys and I recorded a few weeks ago," Mamoru continued, ignoring and plowing through the lack of enthusiasm Hitomi and I showed each other. "Then we have to decorate the tree."

"Of course," Hitomi said with a smile, for her brother's sake.

"You, too, Van," Mamoru said threateningly. "I'm gonna knock the shit out of you with some big ass snowball."

"Mamoru!" Hitomi cried.

I laughed, a sincere laugh. "You're on."

oOo

Sleds and snowballs really did take our minds off of . . . well, just about everything. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had so much fun in the snow; I don't think I'd ever had as much fun. Although Hitomi and I didn't say much to each other, we played together, childishly, taking cheap snowball shots at each other and pushing each other down the hill when we weren't prepared. Mamoru gathered what seemed like half the neighborhood kids together-- anywhere from ages six to sixteen-- and we had more of a snowball war than fight that went on for half the day.

When we went back to the house, none of us acknowledged Mr. and Mrs. Kanzaki. Instead, Mamoru dragged us instantly to his room, to listen to his music. As to be expected, his room was an utter mess-- magazines, CDs, candy wrappers, graded school work (and some ungraded), and God knows what else littered the floor. On the walls, pictures of various bands and singers were overwhelming. On the dresser, pictures of his own band and friends were framed. In the corner, a stand and an electric guitar sat haphazardly. But I'm sure Mamoru would never let anything happen to his precious guitar.

"Tell me what you think," he said simply, putting in one of what seemed like thousands of CDs scattered throughout the room. Hitomi and I sat down on his unmade bed, both of us wondering what his song (for me, his music in general) would sound like.

It started out with a simple drum beat, then added guitar chords as it got further in. After about fifteen seconds, Mamoru started to sing . . . (I'll admit, I had some difficulty understanding what he was singing. It had "screamo" and all that good junk, you know?)

Hey girl, you know you drive me crazy.

One look puts the rhythm in my head.

Still I'll never understand why you hang around,

I see what's going down.

Cover up with makeup in the mirror.

Tell yourself it's never gonna happen again.

You cry alone and then he swears he loves you.

(Chorus)

Do you feel like a man when you push her around?

Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground?

Well, I'll tell you my friend, one day, this world's going to end,

As your lies crumble down, a new life she has found.

I contemplated his chorus as the song went on.

A pebble in the water makes a ripple effect;

Every action in this world will bear a consequence.

If you wait around forever, you will surely drown.

I see what's going down.

I see the way you go and say you're right again,

Say you're right again.

Heed my lecture.

Do you feel like a man when you push her around?

Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground?

Well, I'll tell you my friend, one day, this world's going to end,

As your lies crumble down, a new life she has found.

One day she will tell you that she has had enough.

(It's coming round again.)

(repeat)

Do you feel like a man when you push her around?

Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground?

Well, I'll tell you my friend, one day, this world's going to end,

As your lies crumble down, a new life she has . . .

Face down in the dirt,

She said, "This doesn't hurt."

She said, "I've finally had enough."

(repeat)

The song was less than three minutes long, and honestly sounded to me like half the stuff on the radio. But I actually really liked it. It had a good message. A very, very good and profound message. It's depth, in that teenage way, surprised me a bit, coming from Mamoru. But as I watched Mamoru and Hitomi, I don't know why any of that was surprising. As they looked at each other, I could see it. Even before that, I could sense it, knew exactly what inspired Mamoru to write the song.

They had a one in a million brother-sister bond.

oOo

The three of us just had pure fun putting ornaments and lights and beads on the Christmas tree. Mamoru was really into this Christmas thing; he was the one who hung all the decorations outside and everything. We argued over which ornament should go where and which lights to put on, so on and so forth, as classic Christmas carols, such as Silent Night, wafted through the house. Just really trivial things to pass the time and avoid the inevitable: talking to the parents.

Dinner was relatively simple (since Mrs. Kanzaki had cooked half of the food for Christmas already and didn't want to be bothered with too much extra cooking) and much quieter than usual. Hitomi finished first and proclaimed she had to take a shower (I couldn't believe she'd leave me hanging out to dry like that!). Mamoru talked to his parents, obviously taking their attention away from me. But there was no way of focusing Mrs. Kanzaki's on anything other than me.

Mamoru went upstairs to do . . . whatever it was that he did; Mr. Kanzaki settled into the couch to read.

Mrs. Kanzaki ignored the dishes and came to talk to me, for I still sat at the table, blanking out.

"Van, we need to talk," she began, sitting directly across from me. I couldn't help but see the resemblance she and Hitomi shared; Mrs. Kanzaki appeared to be a older version of Hitomi, with darker hair and more wrinkles, less pep, all that good stuff that happens as we age.

"Okay."

"First, I want to say I'm sorry."

"Okay . . . I don't know exactly what for, but I forgive you."

She stared at me as if I were an alien. "So easily?"

I scratched my head absently. "I don't recall ever being truly angry with you."

"But . . . what I said about you was mean and untrue."

I shrugged. "It's not the first time someone's said something degrading and untrue about me. Besides, your opinion doesn't change the fact that I love your daughter. And it doesn't change the fact that she loves me, either."

Mrs. Kanzaki considered what I'd said. "You love her . . ."

"With all my heart," I said honestly.

She smiled slowly at me. "I guess I'll just have to accept it."

"I guess so," I said equally.

"But one thing, Van," she said sternly. "Two things, actually."

"Yes?"

"One, you really must call me Mom," she said with a rueful smile, "and two, you shouldn't think so little of yourself."

I smiled at her statement. "Hitomi would tell me the same thing."

"What would Hitomi tell you?" Hitomi asked, standing on the stairs with hands on her hips, probably chafed that I was conferring with the enemy.

"Oh, nothing," I said sweetly, walking slowly up the stairs. "I was just saying how Hitomi would tell me that she loves me, and then I'd say the same mushy thing back, and then we'd have to have this mushy kiss, because we're just so mushy like that."

Hitomi's eyes lit with love for the first time that day, her bitter feelings melting away. "Okay then, Mister Van Fanel, I love you."

"Aw, really? That's so sweet," I said gaily. "But I love you more."

"Uh huh," she nodded, stroking the back of my neck. "Whatever, just give me my mushy kiss, Romeo."

Like I would fight with that.

oOo

On Christmas morning, I wanted to wake up first. Unfortunately, Mamoru beat me to the punch. And since Mamoru beat me to the punch, Mr. and Mrs. Kanzaki beat me to the punch, too (Mamoru simply couldn't wait and had to wake them up, after all). And since Hitomi always woke up relatively early anyway, even she beat me. So I ended up being last (story of my life, don't you think?).

First and foremost, we had to open presents. Well, the Kanzaki's had to open presents (talk about being left out). Mamoru opened his presents first, which consisted mostly of CDs, video games, and clothes. Mr. and Mrs. Kanzaki exchanged gifts, and both Mamoru and Hitomi gave them little things (can you guess what Mamoru gave them?). When it came to Hitomi's turn, there was very little to open (since she never asked for anything). Her parents gave her money and clothes, while Mamoru gave her a homemade CD, full of her favorite songs.

For once proud to be last, I held out a little box for her to take, neatly wrapped in that really shiny red wrapping paper, with a stick-on green bow on top; she simply stared at it.

"Open it," I whined, pressing it to the palm of her hand and closing her fingers around it.

"Van, we weren't supposed to get each other anything!" she cried, pushing the box back into my chest. I gave her a candy-coated smile.

"You told me that after I bought it for you."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"What fun would that have been? I would've bought you something anyway."

"Take it back!" she insisted. I gave her the sad, puppy-eyed face.

"But I can't, no refunds," I lied. Well, not exactly a lie. I just didn't know whether I could or not. (I'm just not telling the "whole truth," right?)

She sighed, defeated. "You stupid, stupid man," she growled, carefully peeling off the paper, like it were something special. Inside was an old jewelery box I scrounged up (don't ask me where I got a jewelery box from! And not that it wasn't jewelery, of course). She gave me a sideways glance that said I can't believe you spent money on me after I told you not to, you fucking bastard, I'm going to kick your balls later. (As you may expect, she didn't quite think in those terms, but it brightens my day to type that.)

At the sight of the pendant, however, she stopped glaring daggers at me.

"It's beautiful," Hitomi said, letting the gold chain dangle between her fingers. The pendant itself was pink and tear-shaped, crafted to perfection. One good swing would have it keeping rhythmic time. I believed it fit Hitomi impeccably.

Taking it off her hands and putting it dutifully around her neck, I leaned back to observe her. All the other Kanzaki's, I noticed, had their eyes on us, too. "Hm, it looks even more beautiful on you. Your beauty now blinds me, princess."

Calling her princess never failed at bringing out a blush. She giggled, grabbing a fist full of my shirt and pulling me in for a slow, passionate, arousing kiss. I could hear Mamoru pretending to gag in the corner.

"I'll get you back later," she whispered so that only I could hear.

oOo

"Wow, I can't believe Hitomi actually has a boyfriend," seemed to be the phrase of the day. Seriously, we were like the hot-topic of conversation in this convention of Kanzaki's. I met everyone-- aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins-- and they acted like I was some spectacle. Hitomi stayed by my side for most of the introductions, or tried to. She, too, seemed really embarrassed, and had to help her mother with food preparations. But I didn't care about the embarrassment so much; I only worried about why Hitomi still distanced herself, if only slightly, from me. My mind, however, had little opportunity to dwell on that.

Before dinner, I was occupied with the adults, asking me the same old questions about myself, blah blah blah (we've been through this before, have we not?). Her grandparents, they were very nice (even on her mother's side) and were mostly concerned with my character; the uncles, concerned with my career and financial standings; the aunts, with the sheer romance of it all.

Dinner came, at the time, much to my relief. Hitomi and I sat next to each other, somewhat in the middle of the dinner table, that, although quite large, would not sit most of the family. Despite this, Sadato, waiting until everyone had gathered around, ceremoniously told us to "get out of those chairs! You're sitting at the head of the table!" as he hauled and shoved us to the front.

"Dad, why do we--" Hitomi began, cut off by her father.

"Hitomi and Van have an announcement to make."

Hitomi and I gave each other the oh God, what do we do, what do we do? look as the room fell into a hushed silence.

"Well, say it," Mr. Kanzaki said with a nudge to my shoulder. I merely reverted my attention to Hitomi again, who sighed.

"Um . . . Well, Van isn't really my boyfriend," Hitomi began awkwardly. Everyone remained completely still and attentive, except Mamoru, who looked ready to attack all the food. For support, she hugged my arm, leaned against my shoulder. "Van is my fiancé."

Silence, then squeals of delight erupted from aunts and female cousins. We were instantly swamped by congratulations, hugs, kisses, and tons of questions. So much for dinner being tranquil and not embarrassing.

For the rest of the night I hung out with Hitomi's nine cousins (four boys, five girls), all of them no younger than thirteen and no older than Hitomi. Mamoru landed pretty much in the middle, in terms of age, with his cousins, and, of course, was the most popular one. His girlfriend, Angela, came over for dinner as well, and clung to him as if super glued. She was sexy, I admit, wearing tight, form-fitting jeans and a glittery red shirt, topped with a Santa hat. But, in my undying love, I preferred to look at Hitomi, who was wearing a white skirt that came to just above the knees and a tight, red shirt.

The best part, though, was that she was cuddled in my lap, resting her head in the crook of my neck as everyone began to talk again. Next to us sat Emiko, the youngest cousin, who, as most thirteen-year-old girls are, was extremely interested in Hitomi's love life and looked up to Hitomi, since she was the oldest. Of course, Emiko talked to me, too, and asked me how Hitomi and I had met.

"All lasting couples have good meeting stories," Emiko said sagely, her brown eyes boring into mine, and curly, chocolate brown curls bobbing as she nodded.

"I think we have a good meeting story, right, Hitomi?"

"If by good, you mean interesting, then yes," Hitomi agreed smartly.

"Tell me," Emiko said, giving me her full, undivided attention.

"Hm, well, it was a rainy day, the first day of my bus driving career, and I was really cranky. I was almost at the end of my route when your cousin, sprinting in her yellow poncho before I pulled away, boarded the bus. The fact that I had to wait for her annoyed me, but then she held up the bus even more since she had no money. I demanded that she get off, but she got me with her whole 'I'm going to help orphaned children!' spiel. Then she just wouldn't shut up on the ride there," I said, rolling my eyes in mock-exasperation. Hitomi pushed my face away playfully before I went on.

"So, this routine of ours went on . . . well, it still goes on . . . and these days she has bus tokens," I said, flustered, wondering where to go from there.

"When did you start dating?" Emiko asked, to get my brain cells flowing again.

"Have fun explaining this one," Hitomi said with an evil grin.

"Er . . . well, one day Hitomi foolishly brought this other guy on the bus. He made me quite jealous. So, in the orphanage parking lot, I beat the living daylights out of him. For some reason, your cousin found that okay and forgave me and then asked me to go on a date. On our date, she made me go stargazing, because she's crazy," I concluded. "But if she weren't crazy, I probably wouldn't have fallen so hard for her," I added, just to be all smooth and whatnot.

Emiko seemed ready to say more when Mamoru asked the group, "Who wants some music? And not this same old Christmas crap."

And he's the one who loved Christmas, huh?

"Put on something of yours," Angela said sweetly.

"Of course," Mamoru said, as if there were no question about it. "The guys and I wrote this song just to be catchy and whatever. Good to sing along to."

He didn't put it on too loud, so as not to disturb the adults, although some of them seemed interested in Mamoru's music. Again, the song started off with a simple drum beat, then added guitars and vocals. I have to admit, it was pretty catchy. Not deep or anything like the last one . . . but catchy and friendly, none-the-less.

Gotta rock'n'roll romance

Tearin' up the chart again

What a feeling I missed

(I can't wait to get back in the swing of this.)

Runnin' by devotion

Fueled by emotion

We're never giving up now

(Tie me down to the sidewalk gently)

(Chorus)

The same old street

We walked last night

We rock this show

'Til the morning light

'Cause you're my life

My love, my friend

I'll be with you 'til forever ends.

We all sang along with the chorus the second and third time.

The same old street

We know it well

We live our life

We forget our hell

This is a place

Where we run our lives

With all our friends

We make things right

Mamoru put on a couple more of his songs, to the delight of his family, until the interest died away. Turning the stereo down, Mamoru removed his CD, then seemed to contemplate what to do. Finally, he asked, "Hitomi, where's the CD I gave you?"

"By the tree. Why?"

Mamoru retrieved the CD, placing it in the player. "'Cause you like all that soft junk, so I made you a CD full of your favorite soft songs. I figure it'll be nice background music."

Hitomi laughed. "Whatever you say."

I'm so happy he did.

Emiko had lost interest in Hitomi and I, and, as the first track began to play, we were left in our own little world for the first time that night. The song really did begin slowly, with a peaceful, somehow sad, mix of instruments, especially the piano. Instant recognition registered in Hitomi's eyes, as she whispered into my ear, "This is my favorite song."

I listened intently, the people around me, except for Hitomi, disappearing.

She'll let you in her house

If you come knockin' late at night

She'll let you in her mouth

If the words you say are right

If you pay the price

She'll let you deep inside

But there's a secret garden she hides

Lulled into a trance-like state, I picked Hitomi up, placing her deftly on the floor. She didn't seem to find this odd until I held out a hand, asking her to dance. She stared at me for a moment, as if seeing me for the first time, before breaking into a small smile, accepting my offer, noticeably touched by my random act of romance. Although we never went dancing, Hitomi followed my lead well, knowing and matching my slow steps. In a matter of seconds, everyone in the room had quieted to watch us, drowning in our own sea of young love. We didn't even notice.

She'll let you in her car

To go drivin' 'round

She'll let you into the parts of herself

That'll bring you down

She'll let you in her heart

If you got a hammer and a vise

But into her secret garden, don't think twice

Somehow, we didn't crash into anything. Due to all the guests in the house, Mamoru and I had rearranged most of the furniture in the living room, creating a wide open space where the table had once been. Burying my face in Hitomi's hair, I lost myself in the scent of her, wishing that this one moment in time would never stop. She lightly kissed my collarbone, a small gesture that meant the world to me. With arms around her waist, I pulled her closer to me, as close as I could manage without stifling her, close enough that I could feel the methodic beating of her heart, could feel the pendant resting between her breasts. And still it wasn't anywhere near close enough. I feared nothing would ever be close enough.

You've gone a million miles

How far'd you get?

To that place where you can't remember

And you can't forget?

The words of the song were touching, so expected of something Hitomi valued so highly. They reflected her, just as tenderness, understanding, and shimmering love reflected in her eyes, mixing with unsprung tears of happiness. I kissed her lips delicately, mouthing I love you.

She'll lead you down a path

There'll be tenderness in the air

She'll let you come just far enough

So you know she's really there

Then she'll look at you and smile

And her eyes will say

She's got a secret garden

Where everything you want

Where everything you need

Will always stay

A million miles away

When the music stopped, Hitomi and I simply held each other, cheers, claps, and whoops bringing us out of our stupor. Hitomi hid in me, thoroughly embarrassed and red, while I just smiled, satisfied, reveling in my moment of triumph.

"Hitomi," Mrs. Kanzaki called sweetly. As if on auto-response, Hitomi and I turned our heads, and were met with a blinding flash.

"Mom," Hitomi whined, completely embarrassed again. Some family members laughed.

"You'll thank me later," Mrs. Kanzaki said briskly.

I put a finger under Hitomi's chin, making her look up at me. "It's okay," I whispered, moving in for a true kiss. I knew she applied my statement to the picture only. But that wasn't what I'd meant at all.

"Hey, hey, hey, no tongue, Van, there are virgin eyes here!" Mamoru exclaimed, as I was about to really sink in to the kiss.

"Mamoru," Hitomi said, laughing, head falling against my chest in utter defeat.

oOo

When Hitomi says she'll get you back, God, she'll get you back.

"Can we stop at your place first? I really have to go to the bathroom," Hitomi said on our late Monday night car ride home. Even with an entire day to rest, it was hard to overcome the fatigue of fighting, revelations, family, loud music, spontaneous pictures, and mind-numbing love. I glanced at her tiredly, really wishing I could sink into bed as quickly as possible, but respecting the urges of her bladder at the same time.

"Sure," I replied, making a left, only a block away from my apartment.

Since I would be home for a few minutes, I took my things out of the car. Hitomi, for some reason, brought in her backpack.

I placed my bag on the bed, then returned to the couch. I waited as Hitomi went to the bathroom for a minute. Then two. Then three. Then five. Then eight. Then ten. Finally, wondering if she'd fallen asleep or something on the toilet, I knocked on the door.

"Hitomi? Are you okay?" I asked, worried.

In response, she opened the door. And there she stood, perfectly unharmed, completely awake, wearing nothing but a lacey bra and frilly underwear.

Suddenly, I was completely awake, my eyes wandering the body I'd so longingly desired. Now, seeing her, tender skin exposed, womanly curves enticing, my brain did a back flip, then shut down. As she hugged me, placing my hands on her hips, all my wants and needs flooded back tenfold.

"H-H-Hitomi," I stammered. She was already nipping my neck, hand under my shirt, sliding up my chest. Driving me over the edge, causing me to plummet, until a net of sanity caught me. I stiffened involuntarily.

"This is what you want, right?" she whispered, looking up at me. Her voice was so small. And her eyes sparkled with water.

Sparkled with fear.

I cupped her face, shaking my head fiercely. "No. No, this isn't what I want. Not if you don't want it. Not if you're scared."

"I'm not scared," she proclaimed defiantly, clinging to fist-fulls of my shirt, hands trembling. "I'm not scared . . . I want you. I want you to take me."

I admired her stark determination, but still, "Hitomi . . ." She cut me off with a tonsil-mashing kiss.

"I want you," she persisted, trying to convince herself more than me. "Make me see that," she pleaded with me.

Even nice guys like me can only hold out for so long. Sweeping her off her feet, I carried her slowly to my bedroom. "If that's what you really want, because God, that's what I really want," I consented, shutting and locking the door behind me.

AN: -dies- This chapter is FOREVER (by my standards). And to think, this is an added chapter. I'm very glad I added it. This story would be so incomplete without it. But, I'll admit, the whole Hitomi being raped thing . . . yeah, that was not in the original planning. So . . . I had to remove and reword things from chapter seven to make that spontaneous plot twist fit (from the birth control scene). Sorry if that's . . . I dunno, just, sorry about that? -confused- (if you find any contradictions, let me know, I'll fix them immediately.)

Alright, let's talk about the music . . .

Song one (the one Mamoru wanted Hitomi to hear): "Face Down" by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. This song was number one or something on LetSingIt's chart, so I downloaded it (yeah, I'm susceptible like that). I think it's popular on MTV right now or something. At first, I thought it was pretty weird, but then, it got stuck in my head, and I thought it was really catchy. Eventually, as this chapter fell into place, I saw it as a piece to the puzzle. It really is a good song, especially if you're into bands and screamo and all that good stuff. (I repeated the chorus because that was the most important part.)

Song two (random Mamoru song): "The Timing and the Season" by Finding Westerly. I cut out a verse and didn't write out the chorus each time because this song was basically a segue into the next scene. But still, it's a good song! Finding Westerly is a MySpace band with two EP's out. They're really catchy and fan-friendly. If ever you get the chance, you should check them out, add them to your friends list, and love them!

Song three (Hitomi's favorite song): "Secret Garden" by Bruce Springsteen. Yes, I'm sure most of us know who Bruce Springsteen is. This song was made for the Jerry Maguire movie, I believe. And, in my mind, it reflected Hitomi's inner fears of a sexual relationship. It really is very beautiful and sad-sounding. A must-listen! (It was either this song, or "Dancing in the Dark," hehe.)

I understand it's hard to fully enjoy this chapter without having heard the songs, but . . . well, I want to help you with that. Of course, for Finding Westerly and RJA, you could go on MySpace. But, if you trust me (haha), you can IM me on MSN or AIM, and I'll send you whichever song you want :D. My contact information is in my profile.

Of course, if you don't want to do either of those two things, you could always download them illegally (or legally) yourself XD (Finding Westerly lets you download the song legally :D). I'm not gonna lie, my computer is a haven for illegal music. I just can't help it . (Forgive me!)

-Taps fingers together nervously- So, you finally got to see what type of music Mamoru writes. What did you think? I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, for, as you know, there are only two chapters left :(. And next chapter . . . er, well, next chapter will DEFINITELY not be as long as this one. Actually, it might only be half the length. But don't expect any fast updates. I'm getting so behind on my summer school work. And next chapter . . . has a lot of emotional things in it, and action-y things, that I'll probably need a bit of time to write.

And I'm sorry, but I won't be able to review reply to all of you this chapter :(. I promise I will next chapter, even if it's the death of me. I'm really, really sorry! You know I love you all dearly, right? Oh well, I'll say it again, for emphasis. I luff you all:)

Well, until next time, then?

-Spirit0