Alrighty, here's the next chapter! This chapter was a joy to write --- I was really looking forward to this chapter so much. : D And I finally got to write it! Whee! Please enjoy!

Engel's Zimmer
Chapter 4 --- A Murder of Crows

"HARU!" Hiromi called for the third time through the phone to her distracted friend.

Haru dropped the pencil from her mouth and answered hastily, "Yeah?"

"Jeez, I feel like I'm talking to my grandma whenever I call you these days. Why don't you ever want to talk?"

"I do," she lied, taking the pencil in her writing hand to jot down the word she had been searching for while her friend screamed her name over the phone. In truth, talking on the phone had become a slight hassle, especially when it came to Hiromi's constant rantings ofTsuge. It was nice that they still loved each other, of course, but Haru knew almost everything about them and their dates, so when she found out that Hiromi frenched him for five minutes straight, it wasn't that much of a shocker. "Why don't you two go ahead and get married."

"What?"

"It's what you two want, isn't it? To spend a lifetime together, a witness to each other's life." A life, she wanted to say, that sometimes didn't mean anything to anyone else. Not particularly speaking to Hiromi and Tsuge either.

Her friend sighed. "Honestly. You need to stop writing whatever you're writing and go back to the old Haru. I miss her."

Haru only smiled and tapped her pencil to her lips. The were quiet for a moment, exchanging mental neurons when she asked to no one in particular, "I wonder what it would be like to kiss a cat . . ."

On the other side, Hiromi must've spewed her milk, then gagged on it. "C-CAT? Okay, seriously now. What are you writing?"

"Well, I was just wondering, you know."

"Why? You can't fall in love with a cat. Remember Biology? We're in the same Kingdom, but a completely different specie. Do you know what it'd be like to have kids? Or communicate for that matter!"

It'd be harder, Haru thought absently, if he were a statuette. "Sorry for asking." She took a different route so her best friend wouldn't think she'd gone mental. "What are you wearing to the dance? It's in a few days, you know."

Hiromi squealed on the other line. "It's gorgeous! Like, you know that dress that I picked out when Mrs. Shizuku . . ."

The pencil brushed against the blank paper as her friend talked. The gray letters melded together, swirling endlessly into a vast mold, a picturesque moment. And the pencil didn't break, not as she described the intrepid spins, those eyes that knew her, knew her soul. Her hands moved across the page like a dance. Left. Right. Dot. Stroke. Sweep! And then again. Again!

Her memories guided her hands through the dance she had cherished. In front of the Cat King --- how she wanted to laugh in his face! In front of so many cats, so many query eye wanting her to fall. But she did not. Those hands that kept her steady, the warmth of his fingers around hers . . . and that voice.

The voice that kept her from falling.

And yet, in a way, she fell harder and faster than she had ever fallen before. Fell before anyone could catch her. She didn't want anyone to catch her, not unless it was over.

Not until she had tried her best to bring that unbroken voice to life again.

" . . . and it has little blue bows in the back! Oh Haru! I love it! And the shoes! Oh, the shoes are white five-inch heels that lace all the way to my knees. They're as hard as hell to walk in, but I'll manage! Anything for Tsuge."

Anything for Tsuge.

Haru smiled as Muta came up to sit on her desk, yawning and rubbing his full stomach from her mother's meal downstairs. "Man, I'm stuffed!"

She petted his ears and looked out her window to the dusting of gold and orange sprinkled across the horizon. It was funny really. Hiromi would do anything for Tsuge.

And she would do anything for Baron.

- - -

In her first class that Monday, Haru couldn't find time to write between World History and her English paper due next class period. That, and the underlying fact that today was the only day to buy tickets to the Spring Formal. Tsuge bought a ticket for Hiromi, they would go rain or shine, and he was nice enough to offer Haru one too, but she declined.

"I'll be okay," she replied politely. "You never know, I could have my own courtier for the night."

"Are you sure?" Tsuge asked, grinning, "I got paid over the weekend and I'd be more than generous Haru."

"No. I'm alright, but thanks though. It's sweet." And somewhat sour on the same note. Both Hiromi and Tsuge must feel awful knowing that she didn't have a date for the night when half of the school already had their dress, shoes, and pearls. All she had were pieces of paper stuffed in an overcrowded notebook, and a fat cat at home gorging over her mother's Angel Foodcake. "Not like I'd go alone, anyway," she muttered to herself, then glanced at the happy couple slowly trotting away, laughing and cuddling into one another. "Or be a third wheel."

"Third wheel? I don't understand half this lingo."

Haru sighed. "It means a tag-alonger ---" she froze and whipped her head around. No one there. Okay, now she truly was hearing things. Before, she thought it was just her own imagination, but a few nights ago, it became too real. Especially when the voice whispered to her. And then just now. "Okay, I'm not loosing my mind, I'm not loosing my mind, I'm not ---"

"Haru," Machida, who sat beside her in this class, hissed, "stop talking to yourself. It's annoying. You're scaring my girlfriend away." And once she found out what a total jerk he was, she began to loath him instead of like him.

"Oh, sorry for ruining it," she replied calmly.

"He's bloody arrogant."

Haru half-nodded, then passed the voice off again as a figment. She was quite sure it was. Besides, no one she knew had that kind of voice.

After first class, she had managed to finish her English paper and set to work on the twelfth chapter of her memoir. Halfway through the memories of the maze, she was forced to close her notebook and stand in front of the whole class as punishment for not paying attention. Stand in front of the class and recite all of the hellos and goodbyes in English. She also had to ask, "What is your favorite color?" and "How doth the pretty crocodile improve his shining tail?"

Their teacher was a true-grit Brit. That, and he was a little on the insane side. Haru froze up halfway through the last question.

"How . . . How dove --- dear --- dumb te pretty crocodill impove h-hi . . ." the class began to snicker and laugh, causing her to flush red in embarrassment. She bit her lip and shook her head. How in the world was she supposed to know English? They were halfway across the 'bloody' world.

Then the voice came to her rescue. He was amused, but also kind. Unlike her other classmates. "How doth --- say it with me Haru."

"How doth . . ."

"Th-eepre-ti krok-ko-dyl."

" . . . the pretty crocodile . . ."

"Em-proo-v h-is."

" . . . improve his . . . "

"Sh-eye-n-ing t-aye-ll."

" . . . shining tail?"

The teacher clapped finally and sent her back to her seat. Haru thankfully came back and sat down, and whispered softly, "Thanks."

"Don't worry. I always had trouble with Japanese."

It didn't sound that way, from his flawless words. Each syllable laced with the confidence of cornerstones. So achingly perfect. Haru had to put her pencil back to her notebook to realize the voice.

To know who it was.

And when she did, she jumped up from her desk, gathered her things, and excused herself without even saying why. Her legs just flew automatically. Down the steps, through the streets she had walked so many times before. On and on through busy intersection traffic and shops opening up for the day.

It couldn't be him, her mind raced with the thought. It couldn't be him! He would say so if it was --- he would see her pain and say in that voice she loved, "Haru, don't worry. I'm here. I'm here."

The voice didn't. So it couldn't have been him. Yet she had no way of knowing if it was or wasn't. Not until, at least, she came to her house. At the gate, the shock alone loosened the grip on her books so they fell, and the sight of the cattails in her front lawn gave her goosebumps.

Then there were the crows, circling high above, cawing to one another in a great spiral swirling up and up until they were only dots, and then the wind rode them down again in a never-ending cycle. A cycle she had ridden once.

Haru set down her stuff as Muta trampled up from the street. "What happened?" she asked in the bravest voice she could muster.

"I dunno kid. One second I was snoozing in your room, the next those birdbrains were cawing and I left. Didn't see this coming."

"Neither did I." She stepped into the cattails, watching the crows circle in one particular spot of her yard. They would swoop down, pick at something, then flock back up into the crystal blue sky. "Muta, what are they saying?"

He listened, then replied, "Traitor. Fleshy traitor."With a keen eye, heraised an eyebrow to the novice writer."Haru . . . did you . . .?"

"No!" she shook her head violently. "I didn't change anything this time! I swear! I left everything like I remembered it --- I asked you for some of the details, remember?"

In fact, Muta did remember, and that made him all the more cautious. "C'mon. Let's go check it out. Can't hold out forever."

I can hold out forever, Haru wanted to say, but bit her tongue and followed the fat white fluff-ball through the stalks until they came to a small indented clearing. Haru couldn't see anything because of the cattails, but it sounded like Muta found something. The murder of crows hissed at her once before flocking in different directions.

That was only when the cattails stirred.

"M-Muta? What is it?"

"See for yourself, kiddo."

So she did. Folded back the cattails and stared at the man sprawled out against the stalks, knicks and scrapes from the birds over his face and clothes. "I-I didn't do it. I swear," she told Muta.

The cat sat on the man's chest and pawed his nose. "Stupid birdbrain."

Almost on queue, the man turned his head to the side and blinked his eyes open. Black marble. Eyes of stone. He looked down to the cat, then up at Haru, then thumped his head back onto the ground, relieved. "I'm back."

"Toto?" Haru asked, hesitant.

"Haru."

"H-How . . .?"

He grudgingly sat up, a scrape bleeding down his cheek. "I don't remember." Haru bent towards him and wiped the blood away. "Baron and Muta and me were having tea with my special mulberries when . . ." those stone eyes clouded with thought. "I really don't remember, but we fought. I remember a fight. And you. Baron said you were crying --- but that couldn't've been when that thing came . . ."

"Thing?" Haru knelt down.

Muta answered, "Death. He's right. They tried to escape from him and they couldn't. But Baron didn't mention anything about Haru."

"Yes he did," Toto argued. "I remember that. He kept saying she's crying . . . she crying." He looked over to her. "Where is Baron anyway?"

Knowing this was coming, she sat down in the reeds and smoothed out her skirt. It was so hard to compose her thoughts. "He's a statuette --- and not what you think either. He's . . . gone."

The man looked like he had gone pale. "What?"

"Gone. Vamoosed. Not alive. Dead." Muta tried to knock that into the birdbrain's head. And somehow, Haru took the blunt words pretty well. She just cringed a little. A little flinch when she should have began sobbing. That was the strange part, she began to understand and live with it. The fact that he just might be dead, even if she heard that wonderful voice in her head. Muta sat down beside her. "And how did you get human?"

"Human?" Toto blinked, looking at his hands. "I didn't realize I was until you said something."

Muta almost died. "How can you not notice?"

"That place, it didn't constrain us to objects. We were as vast as we wanted or as small as we needed to be. I just got use to it." He clenched his fist, then thought of something. "But, if I'm human then . . . where's my statue?"

"Probably still in that courtyard," Haru replied, standing. "C'mon. Let's get you up and that cut cleaned." She held out a welcoming hand, and he took it gratefully, slowly standing. It was then that Haru realized that she only came up to his chin. He was tall, dark, handsome --- the type of guy in a Tamora Pierce novel. His jet-black hair was windswept back, and his features were very pointed, like a crow's. "C'mon."

She led him into her kitchen and instructed him to sit down so she could put a bandage on his scrape. Muta jumped up onto the kitchen table and watched mutely. Both were thinking somewhat the same, both hearts were beating so fast, so impatiently. If Toto was back, did that mean the Baron was on his way? Or did it mean that the Baron wouldn't come back if he wasn't there now?

"You can't fly anymore," Haru finally said, trying to stray off the subject she desperately wanted to talk about. She was just too scared to ask. "Are you mad?"

Toto shook his head. "I can live without it. At least I'm not in that place anymore, watching Baron court around his fiancé."

Haru dropped the bandage. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, um," the man shot his eyes to Muta, who sighed and left the birdbrain to his own trouble. "His fiancé. Louise. She was taken there too."

"But you said," Muta retorted angrily, "that Baron thought of Haru."

"He did," the bird-man corrected, "before he found Louise there. Haru, he and Louise were made for each other --- quite literally. Like soul mates." He tried to sound convincing, but with each word, the young woman's face went dimmer and dimmer until it was blank. "They've been waiting a long time for each other, Haru. A good fifty years, I think."

For a moment, Haru only concentrated on putting the little bandage on his cheek, which was harder than it sounded. Especially when her hands shook, when her heart was ready to break. So it wasn't his voice she heard . . .

It couldn't have been.

Because Baron was never coming back.

"He's happy Haru, you should have seen those two love birds. It was truly inspiring. Really. They are so happy now. They're together."

"Yes," her voice came out steadier than she thought it would, like her body knew this was coming, but her heart did not. No, and that stuttering heart was about to shatter. Shatter and never mend together again.

Toto lifted her chin until she looked him in the eyes. "Baron told me you like him, but I'm sure it's just harmless love, and if it isn't, Baron wanted me to tell you this ---"

She didn't have enough courage to speak, for fear she would break. Crumble into an endless pit of blackness. All that work, all those tears . . . and Baron would just ignore them. Ignore them and live an eternity with Louise. Without even saying goodbye.

" --- He wanted me to tell you, If you care about something with all your heart, let it go."

Let it go. That was good advice. Better advice than her own. Tears pooled in her eyes. Toto wiped them away.

"And if it was meant to be, it will come back to you."

Haru closed her eyes and smiled sadly. Come back to her. If only it was meant to be. A statuette and a girl? How could there be true love in that? Why would he come back to her when he had his other named Louise? They were made for each other. Louise was probably so beautiful, fit for a cat figurine such as him. It was sad --- heartbreaking --- to know that he wouldn't come back.

Yet she was smiling.

"I gotta go Toto," she told him, taking his hands to hold them tightly. "Feel free to stay here as long as you want. Mom won't mind. Tell her I'll be back, okay?"

"Okay but ---"

There was no time for dilly-dally as Haru got up and calmly walked out of the kitchen, into the small forest of cattails, and out into the street. Then did she kick up her heels and run, her notebook tightly in her hands. She was laughing as she ran halfway down the street and turned into an alleyway. Laughing so hard she didn't care which alleyway she chose, as long as she got there. There were so many ones to choose from, but she knew no matter which way she turned, no matter which pathway she would choose, there would be only one destination.

The place where it all began, with the little toy houses and the statue of a crow in the center. It was lifeless now, she could sense it in her gut. Lifeless because he was free from a statuette. In fact, he probably was trying to straighten the situation out with her mom at that very moment.

He would be just fine. Besides, her mom needed company once in a while.

A little house stood out from the rest, the house that she sat beside and fished out her memoirs, and finished them. Word for word.

It was dusk when her pencil finally broke on the last letter. And almost dinnertime when she organized all of the pages and opened the Bureau doors. They were always open for any weary traveler. Even after Muta locked then up.

"If you ever want to," Haru told no one, "I want you to read this, Baron. Even if you choose to stay with your true love, read it and remember me, okay?"

The wind whistled back in reply.

She closed the doors and stood to take one last look around the old courtyard. Her hands guided their way across the housetops, along the circle until she met the arch, and with one last goodbye, turned and walked away.

(Is this the end! Oh no! Don't make it end there, please!) As always . . .

Continue:
A) Yes! Or-I-will-carve-your-heart-out-with-a-twisted-spork-and-make-you-like-it!
B) No. That was a good ending. Let poor Haru suffer forever without her beloved. To walk the lonely roads of life forever and ever. The End. (You cruel, heartless person who picks this. : P)