Author's Note (that I regret not saving earlier, because I accidentally hit refresh and screwed everything up):

Dear Gohda, that is the longest title I have written in a very long time. _

Anyways... what was I going to (re)write? Ah... I will admit, the feeling of creating your own universe (well... not exactly... since it istechnically based off of an existing one...) is both starting to build up and then wear off at the same time. And what I mean by that is... I've always been a bit of a hopeless romantic, but I can't seem to write properly for that sort of genre. I'm also, unfortunately, significantly repetitive. Perhaps I just enjoy throwing a little of insanity in there every now and then, subtly (YES, I spelled that correctly, anonymous. .__.) enough that it's barely noticeable within the context of the story, and yet when the pieces finally come together you just wanna kick something for not having a similar theory earlier. Perhaps it's my R07 (fangirl? stalker?) coming out in me, that makes me question this kind of reasoning. Maybe I'm purely an idiot with a (somewhat) fancy vocabulary. xD

Before we begin, I know that I'm going to get shot, beaten, stabbed, etc. etc. with this next part, but it just makes me so happy to see different characters (primarily the ones that I admire the most) suffer. I mean... not in real life... I'm not Shion, for heaven's sake. At least... I believe so. _ I guess it's things like these that give me the biggest thrill when typing whatever comes to mind. :(D

You know what? Screw it. For now, please enjoy chapter dos~!


Mion awoke in a daze, her eyes fluttering open tiredly as she rolled onto her stomach, taking half of the covers with her. Her face and hair were completely drenched in sweat, making her question exactly what she was dreaming about… followed by a flood of possibilities that both made her cringe in disgust, and laugh at the idea of something so ridiculous. She glanced halfheartedly at the clock; 3:18 A.M., sheesh.She grabbed the nearest pillow, pulling it around her face and ears and burying her nose in it aggravatedly. She still had hours to sleep before she planned on waking up at the earliest, and, as far as she was concerned, she didn't have anything of any significance planned for this weekend. She grew impatient, and kicked her feet against the mattress, unable to fall back asleep once she had been awakened. She wasn't like her sister, who, for God's sake, could sleep for an average total of four hours a day and still have enough energy to poke fun at her whenever presented the opportunity. Of course, her sister's life could be considered much less hectic than her everyday one, which included acting as a role model (and a rather unorthodox one at that) for the other club members, when it came time.

Ah – that's right… Before she ran off to go finish her education or whatever-else-it-may-be, only to come back and find everyone changed and unfamiliar to her old self, she still had to make sure she went out with a bang, at the very least. Just thinking about it gave her a headache, and she would prefer to spend her weekends free of any unwanted migraines, inability to sleep, etc. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be happening at this rate, to her great dissatisfaction.

She flung her bed sheets aside, rubbing her eyes and stretching before clutching her night robe to her chest and beginning to shuffle across the room to her dresser. Half of her hair was piled atop her head, the other half falling across her face and making her appear like some abominable disfiguration from one of those cheap horror films. She… honestly didn't mind. Besides - it wasn't like anyone was around to witness it. Pulling on the handle of one of her drawers, she debated on what she should wear in weather like this. A pair of her old jeans caught her eye, which she plucked between two fingers with either hand, and set on her bed cautiously. Although the temperature had died down considerably, it was still absurdly humid, as if it were about to or already had rained while she had been unaware of it. It was typical weather for this time of year, and her wardrobe had been skillfully adapted to such. She eventually settled for a plain, white T-shirt, which she covered up with a faded, navy-blue windbreaker that she had owned just under a year (and yet somehow managed to make it appear twelve times as such). She changed into these with little to no emotion, not bothering to rush herself in the least. By the time she was completely dressed, and had just finished fashioning the laces of a pair of her old tennis shoes, it was around 3:34 A.M., and she had a sudden urge to make herself some coffee, against all routine. She made her way to the bathroom, snatching her brush from the counter and running it through her hair painstakingly, wondering why she hadn't bothered to cut it for the past few years or so. Her sister had , coincidentally, made this same decision, and – when she left her hair down, the two were practically inseparable from one another just by glancing at them. She wondered how she would appear with shorter hair, and if it would simply make things easier for the two of them in general. As far as she could remember, she had never done anything – nor cared to manipulate her physical appearance so that she independently stood out, since the need had never arisen in the past. But of course – now that she was rapidly becoming an adult, she had all the grounds to do whatever-the-heck she wanted with her life, even if that meant separating herself from her closest childhood friend and companion. Well, appearance-wise, that was…

One of the benefits of having a twin sister was that there was a good chance that she wasn't alone in this reasoning, and, for all she knew, Shion could have already gone and done something drastic beforehand, failing to mention it to her personally…? She shook her head. Now wasn't the time to be worrying about pointless things like that. She made her way back to her room, searching through a plastic bag that she had concealed within the recesses of her closet, and withdrawing a pair of small, brand new scissors that she had bought last time she was in town in the case that she ever needed them (for whatever reason). She slammed the bathroom door behind her, fidgeting with the sink faucet absentmindedly. Her heart began pumping at a furious rate, her blood pounding against the back of her skull with tremendous force. She didn't understand why she was becoming so excited over something so trivial, that had never even mattered in the slightest to her before. She tore at the package hungrily with her nails, breaking it open on the second attempt and bringing the back of the blade to the nearest strand of her hair, waiting, vulnerable. All she had to do was apply a small amount of pressure with her thumb, and the scissors would completely sever everything in their presence. Just to be sure, she pricked the blade against her skin on her opposite finger- drawing a small amount of blood, which began to well up almost immediately. She sucked on it, grinning reassuringly, her entire body beginning to shake from the sheer adrenaline. Her face had turned a pale white, her eyes tired and bloodshot. Before she had time to question her own sanity, she positioned the scissors about 12 centimeters from the bottom of her hair, slowly allowing the blades to enclose around it and sealing her eyes shut. Of course, this was a rather stupid decision, and, at last second, her hand was nervously sent flying upwards, causing her to make an awkward, diagonal incision.

She gasped as she watched a large chunk of her hair float towards the floor, the scissors having met about halfway. There was no turning back now, and – without a moment's hesitation, she snapped the blades shut, making a faint clicking sound on impact. She ran her free hand through the now partially gone bunch of hair, turning to the side and wincing at how much of it she had accidentally cut off. She took a deep breath, measuring out the new length before proceeding to messily chop away at the remaining sides of her hair, until she was completely satisfied with her work. She ebbed at a few remaining layers that hadn't been one hundred percent removed in the initial stages of the process, until she was left with hardly anything in comparison to what she had started out with. She splashed a bit of water onto her face, before wetting her brush and running it through her hair one last time. She hadn't meant to do something, well… this… extreme, and had already begun to regret not getting a professional to do it or anything – as long as it hadn't exactly been herself. She reached for a nearby ponytail, drawing her hair back and winding it around her fingers – only to pause and come up short at the last moment. She allowed it to fall across either side of her face, the longest strand reaching just past her shoulder blades, straightening it out contemplatively. It was certainly… different… than what she was used to, that was for sure. She pushed her bangs to the side with her middle finger… then moving them to the center of her forehead, unsure.

It was at that moment that she looked down, and noticed that she was standing in a giant, green blob, which had completely concealed the floor from her ankles and down. She grimaced. Damn… had there really been all that much?

She bent down to pick up some of the larger segments, discarding them in a small blue bin wedged between the sink and the toilet, before miraculously locating a broom and sweeping the remains into a dustpan. She rubbed her hands together, running them under the faucet for a few seconds to clean off all of the mess she had made. She pulled her hood over her eyes, concealing any changes made from view, and checked her alarm clock once more. 4:15 A.M.

She blinked. That seemed an unrealistically long time, but, then again – being the perfectionist that she was, it was probably around 4:00 before she had begun to make any actual progress. She wondered if anyone was awake at this time. She somehow highly doubted that, considering that it was the first weekend of vacation, and, if left up to her, she would be taking as much advantage of it as possible. She darted down the hallway, grabbing herself a slice of bread from the kitchen and shoving it in her mouth in order to hold her off for a while. She made herself a quick glass of water, nearly swallowing it in one gulp and dumping it's remains in the sink. She made for the back door, carefully easing it shut behind her and attempting to force her way through the hordes of overgrown bushes and trees. She reminded herself to get around to clearing this same path sometime in the near future, otherwise it completely destroyed the purpose of escape when she ended up completely lost and alone in the dark. Summers in Hinamizawa were notoriously hot and humid, and it wasn't going to do her any good to be outside for too long unprepared. The first glimpses of the sun had become visible over the horizon, and she knew she was going to have to make it fast before she was more likely to be caught.

She knew her way around the village by heart at this point, and allowed her feet to guide her wherever they may will, knowing from the start her destination. She tucked her hands into her pockets on either side, closing her eyes and sighing at the cool breeze that kicked in less than halfway through her journey. It wasn't until about five minutes later that she realized she had forgotten to make coffee, and uttered the foulest curse within the restraints of her knowledge- and rather loudly, at that.

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Mion kicked a few rocks into the grass, stooping to pick them up once she spotted any decent-sized ones. She had absolutely no clue what time it was, or even how long she had been outside – all she was aware of was the fact that she was now standing outside of one… particular… house, and found it extremely necessary to prepare herself for a torrent of angry swears and (most likely unreliable) death threats. She had stuffed her pockets with an assortment of pebbles, stones, and twigs, of all shapes and sizes. She braced herself, hurling a medium-sized rock at one of the windows on the second floor, praying that he was home alone that day. She frowned, folding her arms across her chest and thinking for a moment. She dug into the depths of her jacket once more, withdrawing an even larger sized stone, and winding her arm back as far as she could. She swung forward, releasing her grasp with a grunt, the stone sent rocketing out of her palm and hitting the glass with a loud crack. She swore under her breath, hoping that she hadn't broken anything in the process, which, to her amazement, came true. She waited for a few seconds, before showering the windowsill with all sorts of pebbles, branches, rocks, and even a shoe or two, to no avail.

She fell onto her bottom with a sigh of impatience, waiting for any kind of movement that could possibly signal that she had woken him up. A minute passed… no, two… and still, nothing. Mion considered the possibilities of getting immediately back up and heading home for the morning, but something had kept irking her not to do so. Something that felt like it was clawing and clawing at the back of her skull time and time again, which had driven her nearly to the point of insanity. It was an unbearable pain that she couldn't describe – and only by doing something completely stupid or out of her league was she able to ease it's anxiety for short periods of time. She didn't feel like moving her legs, as she was already tired enough. Perhaps… if she waited just… a bit… longer…

She shook her head furiously, waking herself up from her momentary daze. She crawled onto the road on her hands and knees, reaching for her leftover shoe and slamming her foot down onto the pavement. She made sure that she had laced each one up flawlessly and etiquettely, before the sound of something opening – possibly a door, or a window – brought the hairs on her neck to a full stand. She spun around in melodramatic horror, only to see a rather pissed off and disoriented boy looking around on his doorstep. She remained still for a moment or two, until he finally seemed to notice her presence, his expression changing noticeably.

"Oi… Mion? Is that you?" he called, leaning tiredly against the doorframe for support.

She whistled, trotting over to where he stood and grabbing him by the wrist. She tugged as hard as she could – making little progress. He had hooked his right hand somewhere within the interior of the house, and, refusing to give in to her latest whim, stood there, looking perpetually confused. Mion defiantly released his arm and placed her hands on her hips in defeat. She forced a small laugh at the abnormality of the situation.

"Ahaha, I can assure you that it's me, honestly. Now let's go-"

She attempted to force him to lose his balance, placing him at her will – however, he had anticipated this move, and had unexpectedly batted her hand away at the last second. She pouted, not quite ready to go down without a fight.

"Keiiiii-chan! Come on!"

"Mion, in case you haven't noticed, I haven't even gotten-" He paused mid-sentence, allowing her to take in everything that he had just said. Her face turned a bright red, and she took a step backward, dumbstruck.

Sh-shit… why hadn't I thought of that before…?

"AAAAAAHHHH… i-in that case… just… hurry up, alright?" She didn't bother to hesitate and slam the door shut for him, but rather – grabbed him by the shoulder, forced him into his house with one hand, shut the door with the other, and hopped off the front porch, refusing to meet his eyes for even the briefest glimpse of a second. She didn't know why she was overreacting so much, and had yet to attain the slightest idea, as she began nervously fidgeting with the strings of her jacket. He returned less than ten minutes later, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a white T-shirt, much similar to her own. He tossed a worn, partially discolored maroon jacket over his right shoulder, and groaned.

As much as he hated… anyone… waking him up on a Saturday, especially this early in the morning… he could make an exception here and there, if it were the sake of his friendship with the closest he had ever had to, well… a girl… his age, just for a change of pace. He pretty much owed it to her - for abandoning her earlier, that was - and had figured that this was some kind of cruel and unusual punishment on her part. Whatever it was, he was going to let her have her fun, seeing as he was far too exhausted to fight back according to his own will. It's not like it wasn't the second or third time she had tried something on this level, it's just that he had been too ignorant not to clearly state his rejection it this time.

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"Ahh… Mion? Where the hell are we going, anyways..?" he muttered, breaking the silence between the two of them that had existed since they had gotten a good ten meters or so from his house. She didn't answer. She simply smirked, and continued walking at a steady pace, ignoring his protests that his feet were starting to hurt, and that they best head back before the rest of the village began to wake up. He didn't want to risk being disabled over the next few days, considering the fact that he still had an entire summer to get out and do something, for once.

Mion took a rather large step, avoiding a tree root that had begun to extend out across the path - Keiichi trailing behind reluctantly. They came across a small stream, which he immediately recognized as the same one that they had gathered by during the Watanagashi, less than a month ago, now. He wondered if the reason he hadn't realized it earlier… was the fact that Mion undoubtedly knew more than one shortcut around these areas, and had probably brought him here for some unknown purpose. Of course, he didn't question it, preferring his sanity over the risk of aggravating her. However, he didn't see the point in waking him up in the middle of his deep slumber, or why she even bothered in the first place…

As he nearly became absorbed in his thoughts, he noticed that she had begun to sway precariously to one side, her entire top-half having gone limp.

Of course, she would…

He frantically caught her by the waist, fighting back the urge to succumb to the small, unintentional blush that was beginning to creep across his face. Now that he thought about it, he had never quite gotten this close to another member of the club before, despite just about always having the upper hand. Besides… Mion was… Mion, for lack of a better description. Then, of course, there was Rena… who was far too shy and awkward in situations like those that she couldn't have possibly-

Mion let out a small gasp, pulling her hood back over her head and straightening out her hair, panicking. It took another second or two, before Keiichi caught sight of what she had been hiding just about this entire time, and opened his mouth, shocked. The two found themselves immensely overwhelmed, unable to say anything to one another for what seemed like the most drawn-out, painful silence either had yet to experience.

"M-Mion… wh-wha…?"


OKAY, happy-fun-time is officially over. "

Review, comment, subscribe, throw your computer at a wall and burn it's remains because you can't bear to read horrible fanfiction anymore, I don't care. I love you guys~ :(D (I also can easily look you up, Ninja. You can't hide, buahaha. You also said "aggravatedly" was a word. I somehow doubt that. Correct me if I'm wrong. Long ending message - commenced. xD)

And for those of you who haven't reviewed, the only excuse I'm willing to accept is "I don't speak english", because otherwise, I know. Oho~