It's been...a month I think since my last update. Lo siento mucho! See, I was planning to finish this earlier but we had exams, and I then even the first week and second week of our sembreak was a bit busy. I'm here on our third week and only now have I done with it.

I passed all my subjects, thankfully, but not to my satisfaction. It's my fault after all. I'm such a lax. Still, I honestly feel kinda stupid and bummy nowadays. Oh no, this is turning to a blog! Ok, just on to the chapter in case I kill you with my emos!

I thank you all for the reviews! They gave me so much inspiration. I'll try to update sooner! If I don't update in 2 week's time, I give you permission to permission to kill me. Or not. Oh, please don't! I do want to carry on the hope for the next generations!

Oh, yeah. Disclaimers. They apply as always. If they didn't--nah, I can't parr with the great Morimoto.

XII. The Sensation of Falling

The mobile phone was strangely cold and distant in Ooshima Kyoutaro's large hand. The moment the Boss called him, an atmosphere of danger cloaked him. And it was this same feeling which brought him sprinting towards the last sighting of their ojou. For the moment, he could hardly care for the two boys which he had dumped at the perimeter of the carnival after the intended "lecturing".

All the years he had spent serving under the Kuroda household taught him many things, and one of those was that the Boss' intuition and judgment was very sharp; if possible, age and the experience it lent, gave additional edge. And so, he had every reason to be apprehensive. Though, he wondered grimly, he never mentioned what kinda danger. Or where he got the lead.

As he was pondering these things, he heard a distant commotion and he looked up, just in time to see that the gigantic ferris wheel was right before him. Without knowing, he already knew that the two were up there, and that something was happening. People were crowding below, looking and pointing upwards and he followed their gaze, fear dampening even his cool and battle-hardened spirit.

There was a gun shot, and for one agonizing second, Kyou felt as though it was his body which was hit. All of his battle instincts told him that the bullet found its mark and he just knew who that mark was.

Ojou—!

Another bang. His trained ears told him it hit its mark, but only shallowly.

His eyes widened. There. There was their young ojou, arching backwards. The sight was almost romantic, her body being illumined by the dim moonlight—but even from the distance, one could clearly see blood spurting. Her blood. For the first time in a very long time, the Young Chief, Kyoutaro, felt equally weak and helpless.

NO! I can't let Ojou die like this! With that, he ran as he had never run before, pushing people out of the way, his gaze directly at the staggering body. But he knew he would never be able to catch her on time…

She fell, slender feet flying off the cold metal floor as though favoring thin air. It was all happening too fast and yet oh, so agonizingly slowly, too. So slow, and yet there was nothing to do. In that split second, Kyou almost shattered all hopes when, from the carriage below the one Kumiko fell from, some one leapt. A red-headed some one…

ooooOoOoooo

Falling.

They were falling. It was the last thing Kumiko thought of just before blacking out. And for some insane reason, there was no fear—she felt secure, even, as though her whole processes believed faithfully in her amounts of luck. And for some other insane reason, she couldn't understand why "they" were falling. Wasn't she the only one stupid enough to be hit by those bullets?

Kumiko drifted ultimately to blackness and, for the first time in her life since the death of her parents, resigned herself to fate.

ooooOoOoooo

Blearily, Kumiko opened her eyes. It was morning. The bed was soft and downy and…familiar? Of course, it was her bed, after all. Still, what was that other smell?

"Hello, little one." She knew exactly who that voice belonged to. And it has been too long since last hearing it.

"Mom?" she croaked. And, as though she summoned her, Yuriko Yamaguchi, appeared by her bedside. Wide-eyed and wordless, Kumiko raised her shuddering hands and clasped the traditional kimono her mother wore and buried her face in it. It was just as she remembered—the smell, the feeling, the—

"Crying so early—you'll get wrinkly, young lady," came a genial voice from behind her mom, and without looking, she knew it was her father.

"Dad," she murmured, looking up at the round, jovial face which she used to pinch as a child. "I—I dreamt that—I was a teacher—and I had students. And….and…" she gulped. "Circus….ferris wheel—that was the last part! But you were already both dead there—"

Their faces became sad and they pulled away gently. "We are…dead, Kumiko."

The white curtains seemed to writhe and pull apart, before swallowing the two beloved figures. "MOM! DAD!" She blinked and…

Kumiko seemed to fall inside a car. The road, from the way the car jumped up and down, was obviously bumpy.

The sky was dark, and the bullets of water fell from the sky—

Bullets…

That's right, she thought, I was hit. Kumiko touched her abdomen and felt wetness—but there was no pain. Her, shoulder had a light graze, too.

Where am I?

She blinked again, and saw her parents up at front. Of course. Who else would be driving? All that was a dream. A dream where I was older…where they died, and I was made to stay with my only remaining family…Grandpa…Kyou-san…and my brothers…then Shinohara—and I became a teacher…I had students…and a certain red-head…

"Where am I?" she cried, moving her body vainly; it was as though her body was held in paralysis. "What—"

"We're dead, Kumiko." It was her parents' voice, but when they turned towards her, there were only empty skulls. "It's time to die, deary—you should've a long time ago."

Her dry mouth gaped into a silent scream.

The car skidded and fell into a cliff.

ooooOoOoooo

Fell. Yes, the car fell. I fell just like that time. Came a distant thought.

The scene was different as she opened her eyes. The cemetery was nearly empty. Only a few guests, and her, was standing over newly dug graves. She couldn't cry. Why couldn't she? Why isn't she?

I want to—but they wouldn't want to see me lonely, I know it. When they were alive—

But they aren't. Not anymore. You were together—they died; you lived.

I didn't want it to happen.

It still happened.

I have to be strong. I want to be—

It's too late.

Never! Never too late.

It was cold, unbearably so. The cemetery was gone now. It was just blank emptiness. She curled into a tight ball as though it would be enough to shield her from that wretchedly dark emptiness.

I don't want to die.

It hurts, it hurts!

Loneliness.

Unbearable—I can't take this.

Pain…so red. Like blood.

Like the sunset. Like…

Hair…

Hair?

"Kumiko!" Warm arms enveloped her—this was an illusion too, but of all that she had seen, it was what she wanted most to become reality. "Don't die on me."

"Shin!"

ooooOoOoooo

Am I dead?

She tried to move her body, but her limbs refused to obey her. What's happening to me?

Am I paralyzed? Vainly, she tried to open her eyes, but blinding light forced her to turn away and close her eyes again.

"Sh-Shin," she managed to choke out. "Wh-ere…?"

There was a rush and commotion. "She's awake!"

"Ojou's back!"

"Call the Boss!"

Random sounds of whacking almost made her smile. "Shut up, fools! You're noisy!"

"Sorry, Young Chief, but we—Doc! She's awake!"

"Yes, I heard—" Someone touched her arm to feel her pulse. A gentle hand tried to check her lids open, but the light was still too much…

"AH!" Pain suddenly shot through her left ribs making breathing close to impossible. Her shoulder was throbbing as well.

A sigh. "As I suspected. It's too early for her to wake. Nurse!"

A gentle touch and a needle sting injected some fluid into her. Morphine? Kumiko thought dizzily. What were they saying? Too early, what's that? With that she lolled back to darkness...

ooooOoOoooo

Then again, maybe not.

The rooftop has never been as beautiful as this. The sun was setting against the crimson horizon—the clouds seemed to be drawn towards that center, spiraling peculiarly along the way. The place seemed to open to the universe in its immensity; an idyllic and wondrous plateau which seemed to set her free. It was impossible, she knew, but anything can happen in dreams.

This is a dream, right? She wondered. Just like the others. Her feet seemed to float against the cement, until she was close enough to lean on the railings. A knowing second thought told her that she would remember none of this when she awakes. Nevertheless, Kumiko couldn't help but take the spectacular and strange sight around her. So beautiful…

"You're beautiful."

Kumiko smiled, full knowing the owner of the voice. There was only one person who enjoyed the beautiful scenery of the rooftop with her. Turning around happily, she opened her mouth to stop in surprise; her conjecture had been wrong.

Dark hair, still neat in spite of the baby hurricanes in the atmosphere, greeted her instead of the expected disheveled red. A violet business suit flapped gently with the swift winds. Shinohara brushed it smoothly down, eyes concentrated on her. As though studying her face, he smiled. "Expecting some one else?"

"Yes," she murmured. In normal situations, the young teacher would have stuttered in confusion. But this was her world, her subconscious self—there was no room for that bumbling aspect of hers here. Yet there was some hint of hesitation as she added softly, "You're here, Shinohara-sensei…but this is my dream."

"Yes," said the lawyer stepping closer to her. "But I am here, too. I've been here long enough. You always thought of me once, so here I am. Still here."

"Ah," said Kumiko, understanding and not fully understanding at the same time.

With a deliberate step, he made a grab for her hands and kissed them gently. "Always here if you wished." She blushed yet didn't move away.

"You're—my subconscious representation of Shinohara," she thought aloud, her mind absently flying back to the psychology books she once read in college. "I figment of my memory. Have I truly seen you as this?"

"Perhaps," whispered Shinohara with that secret smile. "You never saw the right picture correctly."

"What do you mean?" He tugged her hand gently, and only then did she realize that he had already pulled her into a waltz.

"You know. You saw me yet you didn't."

Orange, red, yellow and violet seemed to swirl before her as they floated round the rooftop. It was an eternity and yet it wasn't. It was blissful, wonderful, and yet unbearably lonely at the same time. She now knew what this dream was for. A dream was, after all, the road to the subconscious. Here all the yearnings, needs, fears would be borne naked. And here was one aspect presenting itself and now she understood its purpose: a parting was in order. "My conscious self didn't understand your love—but I did."

The waltz stopped; his hands still held her fingers but not as tightly.

"Did?" he said with no trace of bitterness. "It is too late, then?"

Kumiko smiled. "The internal struggle has ended and you lost. And I must let you go now."

"Ah."

"You've been freed." Kumiko pulled her fingers free and gestured to the swirling clouds of orange, red and white.

"As you wish, for this is your world." He bowed, and with that last smile which lost its precious secret, was released unto the heavens. His last words seemed to echo from afar before disappearing finally. "It ceased to be mine long ago when it became a rooftop…"

Kumiko threw her arms out to the heavens; dream or not, she felt an inexplicable feeling of recklessness which freedom brought her. And yet there was sadness, too. I will always love Shinohara-sensei, yet not here in this plateau. Not even after knowing the secret of that smile.

In this rooftop, my heart belongs only to one—

And the ground dropped. She was falling again…

…yet she felt secure. As though falling was the most simplistic thing. Or rather, as though she knew that there would be someone to catch her unfailingly…

The intelligent and rebellious student who dyed his hair to defy his father.

The young kid who entered her class and proved herself to be finally a man.

The friend and companion who listened to her rambles and put up with her moodiness.

That person, saved her, helped her more than once already. He was an enormous part of her now.

Shin Sawada…the one to be yet her lover. Or is he already? The answer seemed clear in her head and yet…yet…

There was only one way of truly finding out…

Yes, Kumiko was falling. But that didn't mean she couldn't embrace the light…

ooooOoOoooo

The air which entered her nostrils was so cold that it made her sit up in a gag. Kuroda's ojou anxiously raised her hands to her head, to her neck, down to her chest as though clawing desperately with the air itself. In her anxiety, she didn't notice the commotion of familiar voices and noises in the background. A heavy but reassuring hand pressed on her shoulder, another to her back, and her Uncle Kousuke's husky, soothing voice came above her cheek. "Don't rush it, ojou. The air wont bite ya. Breathe deeply, slowly…that's my girl."

"Ojou, you're still not well, please lie back!"

"Please, ojou!"

"Ojou!"

Kumiko rested her heavy head back onto the soft pillows. Finally, she breathed deeply and forcefully opened her rebellious eyelids. Everything was in a bright blur, but then again, she must have been asleep for some time. A wave of dizziness overwhelmed her, causing her vision to darken but she shook her head and blinked it away. Her vision was clearer now. Of course, not clear enough without her glasses but she'll live.

"Uncle Kousuke, Tetsu, Minoru, Wakamatsu…you're all here. Grandpa…?"

"I'm here, Kumiko," The Kuroda's sendaime entered in a sweeping fashion. A worried expression betrayed his usually sharp face. Then and there, the disastrous evening of the circus returned to her, and in a moment of weakness, confused and guilty tears almost sprung from her eyes.

"Grandpa…" Kumiko reached out in spite of the dull aching in her ribs and shoulder, took the elder's hand and kissed it. "I'm sorry for all this. I—"

"Hush," he commanded and took her granddaughter into his brown robes. This time, Kumiko was unable to stifle her sobs and cried into her grandfather's arms. It was both a very emotional and comical scene; while grandfather and granddaughter held on to each other, the live-ins, Wakamatsu and even Kousuke were also touched by emotion and decided to bawl their eyes out as well. It didn't help that Kyou who entered and summed the whole scene up, decided to join the foolery albeit with louder sniffles.

So it was not a wonder that, Shinohara, entering with a bouquet of flowers, paused, blinked, and debated whether or not to slink away lest he catch the infection. Unfortunately or fortunately, it was hard to decide, the moment between the Boss and the young ojou passed and Kumiko noticed him before he could retreat. "Shinohara-sensei."

"Kumiko," he said with a small smile. "You're well rested, I hope?"

"I don't know…how long was I gone?" she inquired.

"A week and a half," answered Kousuke. "You woke up for a while five days ago but they had to sedate you again."

"Ah…" she clutched her head for a moment, waiting for more information to register back into her head. "I remember falling. How—how did I live?"

The room, so jolly at her awakening, fell eerily silent. "Eh?" said Kyou slowly. "You—don't remember?"

"I—well—it was just—" she screwed her eyes in concentration. "I fell, didn't I? And then, my body—felt so warm. I kind of thought I was—was dead then. Why am I alive?"

No one answered. Or rather, no one wanted to answer. For some reason, she felt afraid, as though there was something sinister waiting to pounce. Like a nightmare…

"Oi! Tell me!" she cried hoarsely; her throat was still not used to speaking after so long. "What happened? Why aren't you telling me?" When they still refused to answer, she frantically grabbed her grandfather's robe, hands shaking. "Grandpa, please, please tell me. Anyone…please…"

"You fell, ojou," came Kousuke's voice, almost husky in its solemnity. "It was a height, yah know, but there was a nearby swan lake there, remember. You fell there."

The scene flashed back to her mind and she shook her head in confusion. "But it was too far for me to just fall on unless someone…someone…" The dreaded words suddenly went stuck in her throat as realization dawned sickeningly.

Unless someone pushed her strongly enough in that direction.

"Aye," said Kyou gently answering her thoughts. "The Young Master Red Lion jumped off the ridge of his car hard and sent you both falling towards the lake."

"Oh." But what does that mean exactly?

Kyou decided to let the stone drop once and for all. "The Young Master had a bad fall."

The words were worse than a sucker-punch. Falling on water could save once life for sure, but falling in a wrong angle on a water surface could be as potentially dangerous as falling on hard cement. It was all physics—and the cold and calculated knowledge left her numb. "And…"

"He was brought in the hospital with you but—he's in a deep coma. It was a really bad fall."

The words rang through the room and seemed to ring into her head like madness.

"Where is Shin?" Her voice sounded oddly distant to her own ears. Hollow.

"Ojou! You still need rest," said Wakamatsu worriedly. The two live-ins looked at their ojou in sympathy.

"Kumiko…" began Kuroda.

"I need to go to him. To see him. Please." Her voice broke at the last word but she gathered her composure and steeled her jaws in determination.

"Let me accompany her then." Everyone started at hearing Shinohara's voice. Clearly, they forgot he was still there.

"What—so you can leave her again?" hissed Kyou advancing towards Shinohara threateningly.

"Enough, Kyoutaro."

"Yes, Boss," said the Young Chief backing away, with eyes still intent on the other.

"Assist her to his room, Shinohara." And, with a final pat on Kumiko's shoulder, Kuroda gestured to the others and left the room with them, leaving only the lawyer and the invalid teacher. Walking towards the endtable beside the bed, he arranged the bouquet onto the empty vase. Kumiko bit her lower lip worriedly, tired and worn from the recently acquired information.

"Shall we go then?" came Shinohara's voice when he had finished.

"Is it okay?" she blurted out, bowing her head in shame. "It's my fault. I'm awake. He's not. What if he dies, Shinohara-sensei? What if—what if—"

The left side of her bed dipped as Shinohara sat on it. His fingers tipped her chin lightly. "Everything will be all right. It's not your fault." With that, he placed her head onto the crook of his shoulders. Kumiko felt slightly better now, save for the awful hollowness in her chest which was far worse than any of her other hurts.

"Thank you, Shinohara-sensei," she sniffed.

He smiled his slow and secret smile yet, for some reason she couldn't remember, it no longer seemed so secret. It has ceased to affect her, too. Immediately, she understood; there was only one person who could affect her twice as much now…

"Shin…Bring me to him, please?" she could no longer hide the pleading in her voice now.

The lawyer's eyes flashed for a moment before whispering. "I will, Kumiko."

I changed the title, by the way, from Dreaming through Light to The Sensation of Falling. It just felt more appropriate, neh? I hope you all understood what her dreams meant...sorry. I'm a bit fond of psychology--particularly the study of the subconscious via dreaming. Hope you're not too confused. Oh, did I leave a cliffie? I'm not even sure it is. Hehe. It's not actually meant to be a cliffie. There ain't too much ShinKumi in this chap but there will in the next chaps, not to worry. Anyways...

I neglected to proofread this chapter, but I'm just so sleep right now. I know...bad trait of mine...sorry. But I'll edit it if there are wrongs. If anyone notices grammar and spelling errors, tell me please? Tell me what you think?

How was it?

Bummy?

Stupid?

Shitty?

Just DIE!

Please Review!