Author's Note: New chapter for you guys! Okay, so this one's pretty long. It wasn't intended to be, but I just kept writing . . . and this is what happened. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 3

Somehow, it starts to become normal to have her visit the roof every day. As the next few weeks pass, we continue to exchange light novels, and she even starts bringing double the amount of bento, saying that I have to begin eating lunch. I relent when I try some of her food.

While I may have been opposed to having her beside me in the first place, now it's an everyday occurrence and it's almost . . . comfortable. Sometimes, I think I even . . . enjoy having her around.

A week after our first light novel exchange, I return all four of hers, and she returns mine.

"You read four to my one?" she says, and she looks rather put out.

"Fast reader, remember?"

"Yeah, but . . ."

"Read more and you'll increase your reading speed."

"I don't think it works that way, Senpai."

"You never know."

"So what did you think of them?"

We hadn't been talking much about light novels in the last week, actually branching off to a few other subjects (some anime and manga that aren't associated with light novels, some of our school subjects, and she once again tried prying about my club).

"I actually really enjoyed this one," I say, holding up the first one. She beams, and I move onto the next. "This one . . . it had a really good premise, but was actually pretty dry, I thought. The character development could've been better."

"But the ending was so good!"

"Really? I thought the ending was all just shock value. Thrown in to make you try and remember it. But I just thought it was cheap."

"I agree that maybe the characters were a bit underdeveloped, but I thought the plot and story was great. I guess I can see where you're coming from with the ending being shock value . . . but I also think it was rather daring of the author to do that, despite what people might think of her. What about that one?" She points to the next book.

"This one? Oh, average, I guess. What was surprising was that plot twist in the end. That was done quite well, unlike the last one. Unfortunately, the rest of the book didn't merit the good twist. It was like nothing happened up until then."

"Yeah, I get that. And the last one?"

"Hated it."

"What, seriously?"

"Don't even get me started."

"No, I want to hear!"

And so we spend the next ten minutes discussing the pros and cons of the book which she dubs a "unique and potentially odd masterpiece," and I call, "a weird, awful, twisted thing that can't even be called a story."

"Senpai, you can be really opinionated about books, can't you?"

"So can you," I shoot back.

In fact, some of her opinions are even valid, but . . .

"So what did you think of the one I lent you?" I ask.

"Oh!" She takes the book in her hands and flips through the pages randomly. "Well, I really loved the writing style. It's so beautiful and there are a lot of memorable quotes. And the characters — they're so precious and heart-breaking and realistic, and I loved the protagonists and hated the antagonists! And ugh, they just gave me so many different emotions! And the plot was amazing, as well! For a light novel, it was surprisingly complex, and it kept me guessing until the very end. The setting was done really well, too. I could picture everything with ease. Of course, that was helped along with the amazing writing style. He's a really good author. Is there a sequel? Man, I hope there's a sequel. I would really love a sequel! Does he write any other books? I'm pretty sure I'd read anything else by him, even if it's just a cookbook!"

I stare at her.

She stares back at me, uncomprehending.

Finally, I say, "I think your emotions about that book may be stronger than mine."

She lets out a laugh. "Hardly. I mean, look at how much you've read this book, Senpai! You clearly love it to pieces! I . . . it's probably that I'm just better at expressing my feelings toward it, right? I'm sure that if you learned how to express yourself, you'd be able to write a whole other light novel singing its praises. Right?"

"That sounds awful."

"Don't be such a downer."

"But I am glad you liked it," I say. "Honestly, I don't know of anyone who doesn't. To answer your questions . . . no. There's not a sequel. And no, the author hasn't written any other books. Actually, there's not really much information about who he really is."

"Are you serious? So he's like some mystery man? Wait, is this really even his real name? Wait, wait, wait! What if this story is real and that's why we don't know anything about the author? What if he's actually writing his own autobiography? What if we just don't know anything about this parallel world? It clears out, Senpai!"

"Please. Calm your imagination."

"You're no fun, Senpai. You should let loose some more. Really, based on what your personality is like, I'm really surprised that you read light novels."

I frown. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's just . . . light novels are light, you know? And some of the content is kind of . . . you know? For someone like you, I would've expected you to read the heavy, classic stuff, and talk about stuffy stories."

"That sounds awful, too."

"But you know what I mean, right?"

"Sure, I guess. Maybe. No, not really."

She sighs and flaps her hands in the air. "It's just . . . you don't seem like the type to read light novels. That's all I'm trying to say, I guess."

"You don't seem like the type to spend her lunch hours with a guy like me."

She suddenly stiffens, her face going blank. For several moments, she says nothing.

I frown. I didn't think there was anything wrong with what I said, but it's clearly had an effect on her, so . . .

She's still staring off into the distance with no indication that she's going to be snapping out of it anytime soon.

Should I shake her? Mention light novels again?

Or . . .

I take in a deep breath.

"Tsukiko," I say.

She jerks to attention so fast that it's a wonder her neck hasn't just popped. "Yes!" she shouts. Then her eyes focus onto me. "M-Mayuzumi-senpai?" She blinks a few times, and then understanding fills her gaze. "You . . . you said my name! Didn't you? You said it, didn't you?"

I nod.

A smile spreads onto her face, and for some reason, unlike her usual cheerful grin that's full of joy and light, this one . . . it's almost heart-breaking in its sincerity.

"Mayuzumi-senpai," she whispers. "Thank you."

I don't know what compels me then, but I reach out to her, and my hand brushes against her arm. She lets out a small gasp. We have never touched before. Not even when we're exchanging the light novels or food. For some reason, we are always careful to not let our skin brush against each other.

"Tsukiko," I say again, this time a little louder.

Her smile stretches even more, and I think I see tears in the corners of her eyes.

"Mayuzumi-senpaiiii. Guess what I have?"

"No."

"Ah, you won't even try!"

"Nope."

"You're so cold!"

"Whatever."

"But this is so fun!"

"Then have fun by yourself."

"Senpai, you really are mean."

"So I've been told."

"But, Senpai, I really want to try this out. Will you please, please, please do it for me?"

". . . I don't believe I have any obligation to do anything for you."

"I'm your first friend!"

"I don't believe I ever confirmed that kind of relationship between us, either."

"I'm your best friend!"

"Wait, how do you get away with saying that now? I just said we aren't even friends!"

"C'mon, Senpai! I just want to do a bit of acting!"

"Acting?"

"You know . . . acting out a light novel? Like we're in an anime! Like we're voice actors! Wouldn't that be so fun?"

"No."

"Come on!"

And that is how I got stuck in this situation.

"So, you're going to be the knight, of course," Tsukiko says, in a very serious tone, "and I'll be the lovely princess."

"Why did you have to choose such a cliché story?" I complain.

"It's just . . . simple and sweet!" she says. "Those are the best for little skits like the one we're doing!"

"I don't want to do this."

"Too bad, Senpai! You've already signed up."

"I never recalled doing such a thing."

"But alas, you are." She lets out a dramatic sigh, smiles, and says, "So, here's the premise: the lovely princess is in search of her true love whilst being protected by her loyal knight who is secretly in love with her. As they travel through the land of dragons, over the troll bridge, and through the fairy skies, she eventually realizes that her true love has been the faithful knight by her side all along."

"Why a fairytale?"

"Aren't fairytales beautiful?"

"If you like sparkles."

Tsukiko sighs again, throwing her hands up into the air. "There is no hope for you, Senpai. But no matter, as the beautiful and lovely and pure princess, I shall cure whatever is inside of you! Whether it be a deadly disease or a venomous poison or simply your unlikeable personality, I will make sure that you become a nice person."

"That's quite a declaration."

In reality, I don't want to let her know how much that statement hit me.

Disease? Poison? My . . . personality?

I wonder, does she really view it that way?

Indeed, it's one thing for me to view it that way. And I thought I didn't mind other people looking at me like that either, but she . . . she changes everything.

Maybe the look on my face is weird, because Tsukiko says, "Senpai? I'm just joking, you know. I like you, actually. I mean, you're a great friend, that is."

I just continue to stare at her.

"Mayuzumi-senpai?" She attempts a smile but it fails halfway through.

I shake myself out of my stupor. "Oh. Sorry. I don't know what came over me there . . . ah . . . where we were? The dragon slays the knight or something?"

"Not exactly, no," she says. A frown creases her brow, though I'm not quite sure it's because I got part of the plot wrong.

"Oh, well, continue on then."

"Right. So, here's your script. I took the liberty of translating the light novel into a script for us."

"What if I'd refused?"

"You did refuse, Senpai."

"Right. I did. So why am I doing this?"

"Because you can't refuse me." She shoots me a winning grin and I roll my eyes.

"I can't believe you've gone to all this work," I say. "You are crazy, you know?"

"Sure, sure, whatever. The point is, just take the script!" She shoves the thick packet of paper at me and I take it with a grunt.

"Geez," I say. "How long is this thing?"

"It's double-spaced and one-sided," she says. "That's probably why it feels thicker. It's so we can make notes and adjustments if we want."

"Notes and adjustments? Why would we want to do that?"

"We could perform it!"

"No way."

"C'mon, that'd be so much fun!"

"Perform for whom?"

There, she falters. "Um. Well, I'm sure we could find some people."

"Yeah. No way."

She shrugs. "Well, whatever. Let's just do this!" She pumps a fist into the air. "I'll be the narrator, too, okay? And you, you can be all the minor guy parts, and I'll be all the minor girl parts. Sound good?"

"Whatever."

"Actually, that should be, 'Yes, Tsukiko, that sounds amazing!'"

"I see no reason why I should say that."

"Of course not. All right, let's get started!" She clears her throat. "'Once, in a land far away and in a distant time than our own, there lived a lonely princess with not a friend but her loyal guardian, a knight with whom she'd grown up with. The princess had just had her coming-of-age birthday and was now eligible for marriage. As such, her parents were searching for possible suitors. But the princess disdained such an idea, and wished to marry for true love, someone she could truly treasure, hold dear to her heart, spend the rest of her live forever with, and —'"

"This introduction is way too long. Can we get to the action?"

"Is that all you care about?"

"It's also somewhat mushy."

"It's a romance story! And I know you've read romance before, so don't give me that!"

"That's not the point. Hearing you read it is going to make me vomit."

"Wow, thanks, Senpai. You're really encouraging." She sighs. "Okay, I'll give an abbreviated version. 'So the princess took it into her heart to search for her own version of true love. Together, with her loyal knight, they decided to search the country for someone with whom she could be her happiest.'" She shoots me a look. "All right, Senpai. Your turn now."

"Where?"

"Were you even following the script?"

I glance down at the paper. "Um . . . let's see . . . 'someone with whom she could be her happiest . . .' Ah, here." I clear my throat like Tsukiko just did a few moments ago. "'D-dearest princess . . . you look weary. You are unfit for travel. . . . Are you sure you would not like to stop? After all, I'm sure they never taught you to walk in shoes other than high heels at the castle."

"Mayuzumi-senpai, have you never acted before? Don't stutter, don't pause between sentences. Use inflection. Also, don't add lines! The knight would never say something so disrespectful!"

I frown. "But they're best friends, right? Shouldn't they be plenty comfortable with each other? Besides, stories that have dry characters are no fun."

"You're no fun," she complains.

"Your turn," I remind her.

"'Ah, my dear knight. Do not worry about me. The trip is wearying indeed, but my heart is strong! I shall persevere to find my true love, no matter how tired my body may become!'"

"Who write this script? It's terrible."

"It's a fairy tale. Your turn."

"'Dearest princess. If your body does become tired, have no fear, because I will carry you to the depths of the earth, even if both of us faint.' Wait, how would he carry her if he fainted as well? This doesn't make any sense!"

"Just read the script!"

"'Dearest princess, my heart only belongs to you. If your courage ever happens to waver, just know that I am with you, not only in spirit, but in heart. Because my heart belongs to you.' And yes, I am repeating myself because obviously that line is important. Do you see now, dearest princess? I am in love with you! Because my heart belongs to you! It's an important line! So it's said multiple times!"

"For the last time, Mayuzumi-senpai, don't add lines!"

I throw the script onto the ground. "No way!" I say. "This is not happening. I am done with this story! It's one thing if you chose a halfway decent story, but this is pure trash!"

Tsukiko draws in a sharp breath.

I avert my gaze from her, suddenly realizing how the words sounded.

She picks my script up from the ground without saying a word. Shuffling the papers until they're neat once again, she says, "I'm sorry. I just thought . . . it might be fun. I'll . . . I'll . . ."

She turns.

For the first time since we've met, she turns to leave.

And for the first time since we've met, I realize, with startling clarity, that I don't want her to leave.

"Wait. Tsukiko."

I reach out and snag her arm. The scripts tumble out of her hands and she lets out a noise of surprise.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I'm sorry, okay? You're right. You're right. About me earlier . . . about the poison . . . you're right. I do have a disease. There is probably . . . something wrong about me. I'm sorry. I don't know what to do about it."

She's still facing away from me; my hand is still around her arm.

She reaches back and grasps my hand with her other hand. "Mayuzumi-senpai," she says, her voice softer and quieter than usual. "No . . . it's okay. I'm the one who should be sorry. I shouldn't have forced you to do something that you didn't want to do. You have every right to be mad at me."

"No, that's not —"

Her fingers wrap around mine and I find that I'm suddenly unable to speak. She turns to face me, and there's a very tender smile on her face. "Thanks for the apology," she says. "It wasn't needed, but I'm grateful all the same."

I blink a few times. "You . . . are you okay?"

"What do you mean? I'm fine!" She tries to brighten up her smile, but it appears too forced.

"Tsukiko," I say.

"Hm?" This time, her smile at least appears somewhat genuine. I find that when I say her name, it always seems to have a positive effect on her.

"Tell me more about yourself. Your family. What are they like?"

Her eyes widen slightly at the question. I'm not usually the one to initiate the conversation. But she smiles anyway and says, "Well, I don't have any siblings. My dad died when I was younger, so I don't really remember him. And my mom . . . she's great. We're really close."

"That's nice."

"Yeah." Her eyes light up, but they also look a bit misty, too. "She's sick, though."

"Sick?"

"Yeah . . . the doctors say there's a chance she won't make it."

I begin to take a step back, shocked, but Tsukiko's grip on my hand tightens. "No, please," she begs. "Don't leave. You're my . . . you're my first real friend. Okay? And I know you say we aren't friends . . . and I'm sorry if you still find me annoying . . . but to me, you're my friend. And my mom's dying!"

"You just told me that," I whisper. "You just . . ."

I can't believe it.

She almost said it too easily. She was talking about her mother, smiling, and then she just let it slip that she might die . . . and now, she looks so fragile, so small, like a porcelain doll.

Perhaps she thought it would be easier that way. To tell me without so much drama. But once the words were out, they had a greater impact than she could have reckoned with.

"Mayuzumi-senpai," she cries, and she tugs on my hand. For some reason, I let her draw me closer, until our bodies are only a few inches closer. "I've known for ages. I have, and yet I can't seem to come to terms with it. We just moved here, you know? To Kyoto and to Rakuzan . . . and it's all so different. But Mom's still the same. She's still the same, and I think that maybe she won't ever change. Perhaps she'll always stay the same. And that will be a miracle if it happens that way. But it probably won't. Fate won't be that kind to me, will it? Senpai, answer me!"

She is demanding a reply out of me. She needs some kind of answer, some kind of words that I can't seem to think of. She needs someone to comfort her, someone to say the exact right thing.

She doesn't need someone like me. Someone who can only speak in the language of poison, whose words turn into venom as soon as they lift from the tongue.

I open my mouth. I close it. I don't say anything at all.

The tears begin to stream down her face.

She is crying.

She is crying.

I can't do anything at all.

"Please," she says. She moves even closer and I can't find it within me to stop her, even though my body is screaming that some part of this isn't right — or maybe that some part of it is — and lays her head on my chest, her small arms encircling around my body.

Something flutters inside my chest. For a while, I let her hold onto me. I don't move. I don't move my arms around her, to hold her up, too. I just let her grasp onto me, if she needs something to keep her afloat. Even if it is someone like me, I will let her use me.

But then . . .

"Senpai," she says and she glances up at me. Her face is streaked with drying tears, and her eyes are puffy and red.

I stare down at her and I can't put into words the powerful emotion rising inside of me.

"Yes?" I manage to say.

"I . . . if you could . . . that is, if you don't mind . . . I would really like . . . I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to —"

I sigh. "Just spit it out."

"Can you hug me, too?"

I stare at her. Hug . . . her? Envelop her in my arms? Currently, my arms are hanging loose, useless by my sides, but at her words, I find them moving, almost like of their own will, powered by the force of her voice. They wrap around her and as if she wasn't close enough before, pull her in closer. She lets out a sharp breath, like the air is being squeezed out of her. I hug her tighter and tighter, and as tight as she can, also, she hugs me.

We stand like that for a long time.

Her chin pokes into my chest. My chin rests against her head, into her dyed teal hair. We seem to be opposites in every way, only drawn together by one common interest. Hardly enough to establish a good, solid relationship, and hardly enough to keep the relationship strong and going for a long time. But yet . . . this goes beyond all rationality. This is illogical, unreasonable, but somehow . . .

"Kiyabu Tsukiko," I find myself saying.

Then, she says my name, "Mayuzumi Chihiro."

As if by some unspoken agreement, we separate. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes dilated. I'm sure I don't look much better.

She says, "Senpai?"

"You can call me, if you need to," I say. "I'll give you my number."

Her eyes widen, because she knows that for me, that means just about everything.

"Yes!" She grins broadly. "Senpai, thank you."

No, I feel like I should be saying, thank you.

A/N: Well, that seemed to escalate a bit quickly. A bit dramatic for me, maybe, and maybe it's also a bit OOC for Mayuzumi, but maybe not. We really don't know much about him (man, I wanna know more!), but to me, he always seemed like someone who put on a tough front but was really pretty sensitive and nice on the inside. And he really just needs someone like Tsukiko to break down his walls and force her way in. He has a very subjective way of viewing himself, but maybe she can change that.

Anyway, thank you for reading! It makes me happy each time I get favorites/follows/reviews. :D You guys are awesome.

~ J. Dominique