Disclaimer: Lolwhut.

Note: It's coming to an end.

---

The lights dimmed, landing the inside of the pavilion into an indecisive state of semi-darkness. The crowd paused briefly before breaking out into a remarkable collection of hooting, cheering, excited whispering, laughter, shouting, screaming, and enthusiastic waving. A spotlight focused on the center of the ring, revealing a small podium.

The ringmaster entered the circle, hopping gallantly onto the miniature stage. He bowed, and signaled for the crowd to keep silent. Once he had finished introducing the performances and thanked various sponsors, he stepped off the podium and exited the ring with a swish of his silk cloak and a click of his fine boots.

The clowns stumbled into the ring, tripping over misplaced toy trucks, dressed in outlandish garb, dancing to high-pitched music, riding panicking hogs, fighting with pet monkeys, tossing pies wildly, making strange faces at each other, spraying water everywhere, and screeching in helium-ravaged voices.

Trapeze artists flew past the audience on thin lengths of cords, deftly swinging from rope to rope, maneuvering gracefully, drawing awed exclamations from the astounded crowd, casting moving shadows on the ground, performing amazing stunts, and landing perfectly on the assigned platforms as they glowed with pride.

A chorus of roars ripped through the air, and tamers jogged into the arena. Lions followed in agile strides, leaping through the seemingly tiny rings of fire, balancing precariously on massive rubber balls, climbing slim poles to steady themselves on the rickety structures, enduring painful strikes of the whips their tamers clutched in their rough hands.

A tamer bravely pried open a lion's mouth, and stuck his head into it. Shizuru inched closer to her blue-haired friend, clinging to her arm in fear – not for the tamer's safety, but in fear of what would happen to the lion should it happen to "accidently bite off the tamer's head if it decides that its jaws are tired".

Natsuki found her reasoning rather ridiculous, but she didn't mind.

Shizuru had always been just a little too eccentric, after all.

---

Just a Little

Forever was never enough for her.

---

The clatter of dinner plates was clearly heard in the otherwise silent room, furnished simply yet expensively. A few famous paintings adorned the walls, amongst the vintage-pattern wallpaper. Porcelain jars of extravagant flowers lined the shelves, alongside display sets of exotic medicines, and transparent bottles of pricey spices.

"Your father called."

"Ara, what did he say?"

"He wanted us to visit him over in Kyoto, talk about our marriage. I apologise – I couldn't refuse him without directly rejecting his invitation this time."

"Ookini, for trying. It's fine."

"There was something about a ceremony to confirm our relationship."

"It's a family tradition."

"He also mentioned something about children and future heirs, I'm afraid."

An awkward cough followed the sentence, and the man scratched the back of his neck sheepishly as he looked at his wife. Coarse black hair framed his face, messy but fashionable. His nose was sharp yet undefined, his jaw delicate yet strong, his eyes soft yet purposeful, and his large mouth was pulled into a lax smile.

But what Shizuru wanted was luxurious blue tresses, a beautiful face set in a rebellious expression, pouting lips which were all too lovely, incredibly-addictive blushes, soft features that were constantly accommodating her cute frown, and intriguing eyes that spoke volumes to make up for what she didn't say.

Sometimes, we can't have what we want.

"When is the visit due?"

"The day after tomorrow."

"So soon?"

"We've been putting it off for months already, actually."

The Kyoto woman sighed softly, graciously cutting her salmon into smaller pieces which were easier to eat. For a moment, only the gentle clink of cutlery could be heard in the dining room as stainless-steel knives met the exquisite ceramic plates. Fractions of food vanished from before them as they ate, as if they were an ordinary couple enjoying a meal in silence.

"You might want to inform Kuga-san."

"I'll be calling her later to tell her."

And perhaps she would call her the next day too, and the day after that. A regular routine of starting the daily conversations on the phone, as a matter of fact. Just in case. While she was keeping Natsuki up-to-date with her activities, she could also talk to her about more welcomed things as well.

But, yes, Shizuru decided that she would call her every day. Just to make sure.

Natsuki had always been just a little too absentminded, after all.

---

The cheap plastic bag could barely contain its contents, rolling about on the tabletop before finally coming to a rest. It sat there innocently, while moments ago it had just threatened to leap off the edge of the table and incidentally murder the pair of dizzy goldfish that floundered around in it.

They had travelled far, from a game stand in the Arumajiki Circus grounds, to the home of Kuga Natsuki. After their treacherous journey bouncing up and down hazardously on a speeding motorcycle, they were tossed about by their own plastic-bag-home mercilessly. Somewhat miffed, they resolved to stay still to sulk.

"You can't possibly be serious."

"Ara, but I am!"

"Who names their goldfish Shindou and Chiba? In fact, who even names their goldfish?"

"A lot of people name their pet fish."

"But you can't even tell those two apart!"

"This one has a cute, defiant look in its eyes. She's also faster than the other one. This is Chiba."

"Wait, how could you tell their gender?"

"Instinct. They're both females, by the way."

"… Instinct."

"Yes, instinct."

"I'm going to trust you on that one, Shizuru."

"Mmm, Chiba resembles Natsuki, doesn't she?"

"She does not!"

"She does."

"And I assume that Shindou takes after you?"

Inwardly, Natsuki supposed that the goldfish did somewhat remind her of Shizuru. It moved with a quiet confidence that was all too familiar, its scales were a healthy blend of stunning gold, its tail and fins were wispy frames of fading crimson. In a sense, it seemed to be an extremely rare species of fish, the only one of its kind, although it was just a common goldfish.

The words 'attractive' and 'ethereal' did come to mind.

But Natsuki was certain that Shindou was not very much like her best friend at all.

Shizuru had always been just a little too beautiful for comparison, after all.

---

Bubbles.

Natsuki thought that Shizuru had far more class to participate in such childish activities. Natsuki thought that Shizuru had far more sense than to invite her along to these very childish activities. Natsuki thought that Shizuru had far more reason than to suggest that she participate along in these same childish activities.

Natsuki thought a lot of things, but what Natsuki thought about Shizuru tended to be incorrect.

Shizuru dipped the bubble blower delicately into the little bottle that happened to be shaped into a cartoon bear. Natsuki chuckled, noting that it seemed as if she was thrusting a torture device into the poor bear's head. The crimson-eyed woman withdrew the wand, releasing a slight gust of air to form bubbles.

The bubbles populated the sky, their numbers quickly multiplying.

They were the tough, burst-resistant kind. Quietly, Natsuki mumbled something about it being just like Shizuru to buy that type.

The pair of girls stood on the peak of the hill, the grass tussled by the gentle breeze, watching the graying sky being overtaken by bubbles.

The taller of the two realised that the saying "what goes up must come down" was not quite so true.

They just went further up, soaring to unreachable, unbelievable heights.

Heights so unreachable, that they got lonely because there was nobody else around.
Heights so unbelievable, that eventually everyone forgot all about their very existence.

It must have been cold up there.

Still, Shizuru saw that these bubbles were like wishes. Fragile, hopeful, many, yet all eventually died.

Shizuru relied more on her lies. They were solid, powerful, imposing, and reproductive.

She fed them to her fangirls, her friends, her parents, the world. But only a small helping at a time, she always remembered. The supply never ran out, though. In spite of all these outputs, she still managed to live off her own lies.

Not that she was a deceiving creature.

Everyone had their own weapons – brutal strength, smooth tongues, charming appearances, illustrious backgrounds, surprising speed, impressive intelligence, slippery flexibility, stunning endurance, shrewd craftiness, helpful resourcefulness, dependable trustworthiness, or sheer wits.

What Shizuru had was a lie.
And a lie generated more lies.

What Shizuru had were lies, and if lies were her weapons, then she would use them.

People adored her lies.

Silently, the flaxen-haired girl paused in her own thoughts, which were just as wrong as Natsuki's, but in a different, warped way.

Like bubbles.

Shizuru had always been just a little too ruthless, after all.

---

"She's leaving for Kyoto."

"And?"

"That's it, she's leaving for Kyoto. She's leaving Fuka. She's leaving me."

A glass of undistinguishable liquid – most likely alcoholic – was placed heavily on the chipped, weary counter. A long, suffering sigh was drawn out, and a withering look was passed to the cobalt-haired girl. Frankly, Nao was getting tired of the lack of self-confidence Natsuki had, or whatever it was that took her "dimwitted certainty" away.

"True."

Natsuki stared blankly, feeling her heart being crushed as she heard her friend just confirm her deepest worries. To be honest, she had not been expected that, nor comfort and denial, but just simple advice. She did not really think Nao would coldheartedly rub it in her face, pour oil into the fire, make the feeling hurt more.

"But she's waiting, Kuga. She's leaving you, and she's waiting for you to follow."

"…"

"The loyal dog follows its master, figuratively speaking."

"What?"

"Look here, Kuga. Do you treasure her?"

"What kind of stupid question is that?"

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Get to the point, Nao."

"She loves you. You love her. She leaves. It's only natural that you follow. The map is changing, and the treasure is moving. It's simple."

"No, it's not that simple."

A fist is slammed on the table, knuckles white from the intensity of the hold. Nao glares darkly at Natsuki, a reminiscence of the look she had during The Carnival. An even more foreboding expression crosses her face, and her lips were about to curl into a familiar sneer before, as quickly as the menacing expression had came, it disappeared.

"Fine, so maybe it isn't that simple. I'm probably not one to know."

"…"

"But don't you think that she deserves to know? That she should know that you love her too? You love her, and you know she loves you, and you're relatively pleased with that. But she doesn't. She's left with this constant fear, constant self-loathing, because she thinks that she's scared you away."

"…"

"She thinks that her precious Natsuki doesn't want her anymore. Rejected by you."

"… Nao."

"Abandoned, actually. The master abandoned by her faithful dog, the dog that she loves, the dog that loves her."

"Nao, stop."

"Hmm."

"Thank you."

With that, Kuga Natsuki was off to set things right. Nao exhaled heavily, feeling exceptionally light-headed – this time not because of her drink, but the strange sensation of a job well done. Returning to her glass, she sipped its contents, sniffed at its rim, and placed it aside.

She wondered about just when Natsuki started using her as a personal counselor.

Natsuki had always been just a little too slow when it came to Shizuru.

---

The rain thrashed upon her back, but she paid it no mind. The road was wet, slick, yet she found herself speeding at a rate that could attract policemen from overseas. The vision the weather provided her was near to none, but she merely hoped Ducati's headlights would suffice and ploughed on.

Flinging herself off her motorbike, she climbed over the iron-wrought gates, ignoring the gashes she received from the barbs that were meant to dissuade intruders. She raced down the cobblestone pathway, blindly stumbling, and paying absolutely no attention to the burglar alarm sounding shrilly.

She punched the doorbell, but there was no response for a minute. She couldn't afford waiting, and jammed a firm finger into the trigger, yet still there was no answer. Now terrified, Natsuki kicked the heavy oak door with such force that part of it shattered, and she hastily slid an arm through and half-gouged, half-picked the lock.

Thankfully, the lock was one of those that were satisfyingly expensive, but disgustingly easy to break. She threw the door open, its hinges shrieking in protest. A shout came from outside, but Natsuki had long fogged out all but one thought.

Shizuru.

Lobby – nothing. Hall – nothing. Kitchen – nothing. Dining room – nothing. Bedrooms – nothing. Back porch – nothing. Room after room, with every single crevice, there was nothing to reward her desperate search. Furniture was tossed aside in a frenzy, refrigerators and wardrobes overturned as all logic left her mind.

No, no, no.

It doesn't happen. It doesn't happen this way.

Natsuki screamed, and police sirens screamed back.

No.

She had always been just a little too late.

---

A (very reluctant) trip to Bali, a screw-up with the Internet, and a fascination with Pokémon Mystery Dungeon 2. I wonder if any of those excuses are valid.

I'm sorry. I was sort-of held up.
I really need to review some stories, I see. Oh, the marvelous wonders I have missed in my absence!

This is the second last chapter.

Anyway, to reviewers:
All of you have been my sole motivation to continue writing, as cheesy as I sound. Your support really boosted my moral, and somehow overtook my laziness. I really love it when someone openly shows that they appreciate my efforts enough to review, or even bother enough about the story to give critique or ask questions.

Thank you.
Special thanks go to jquackers and Blue Lone Wolf, for putting up with my ceaseless rambling.