Author's Note: So just as a heads-up, there will be twelve chapters in total plus an epilogue. So four chapters left! Thank you all for reading and reviewing so far! You all are awesome. Oh, and I've written a Kuroko/OC one-shot - it should be up soon; just needs a bit of editing if you wanna check it out (some shameless self-promoting, you know).

Chapter 9

Tsukiko disappears after that. Rather, she sends me one text message, saying she's left for Tokyo, where the rest of her family is, for the funeral, and she'll be there for the rest of term and winter break.

That's all. Nothing more. Not even a good-bye.

If I were in her position, though, I can't say I would've done any better.

Her mother died.

Sometimes, as I make my way to school without her by my side, without her voice echoing through my ears, I wonder how she is doing. Sometimes, when I go up to the roof and realize that my stomach is grumbling, unused to not eating during lunchtime now, I wonder if she'll even return. Sometimes, when I pick up a light novel, think of how it all started, and put the book down, I wonder if she's thinking of me, too.

But more often than not, I only think of her. Her smile. Her laugh. The way she teases me. Maybe even flirts with me. (I don't know. Is she flirting? I've never exactly been able to tell what one defines as "flirting.") I think about her hair, teal or red. I think about the stories she likes, the ones that make her cry, and the ones that make her eyes light up with joy. I think of the delicious meals she makes, and how she never once complains about sharing them with me. I think about her relationship with her mother, how she held it more precious to her than anything else.

Second-term ends in a quiet way. Without her, everything seems to be quiet. Like the whole world has been suspended for a moment, like time itself is saying to wait, hold on, until her return. It doesn't help that it's winter, that sometimes it'll snow, and then the world is whitewashed and everything appears dull and lifeless.

Kind of like a world without her.

During winter break, even though the weather turns out to be a bitter wintery cold, I find myself wandering around even more than usual. I visit all the places I went to with her. But now, they only seem cold and empty. I find a few new places I think she'd like. Christmas decorations are going up, lighting up the streets and shops, shining merrily, speaking of a celebration, but they only serve to annoy me with their cheeriness.

It seems like I might be useless without her around.

Two days before third term is due to start, I receive a text from her.

Mayuzumi-senpai, what is your favorite color?

I don't debate her question. I don't send her back an answer, asking where she's been or why she hasn't contacted me earlier. Instead, I simply reply back with:

Purple.

The next day, among the gray late afternoon skies, there's a knock on my door.

As I approach the door, thinking of the previous day's text and the only person who'd be interested in seeing me, my heart begins to pound. The last few weeks have been . . . well, to put it mildly, torture.

I open the door.

Kiyabu Tsukiko stands before me. A scarf around her neck, striped knitted gloves on her hands.

She has a single dark purple stripe in her hair.

"Hey," she says.

I stare at her.

"What do you think?" She runs a finger through her hair. "I took your advice. My aunt offered to pay for it, actually. Good thing, probably. I was running out of money for hair products. Do you even know how expensive these things are?"

I'm still staring at her, and my mouth falls open slightly.

"Senpai?" Her eyes are large, her cheeks are pink from the cold.

I reach forward, half in a daze, and grab her hand, pulling her forward into the house. "You'll catch a cold if you stay out there," I say gruffly.

"That's the first thing you want to say to me?" She laughs softly, but she wraps her gloved hands around mine, and doesn't protest as I close the door behind her, and guide her to the couch.

"I can make some cocoa," I say. "I'm at least halfway decent at that."

"That sounds . . . nice and warm." She sighs happily and disposes of her scarf and gloves, laying them on the table before the couch.

I move to the kitchen and begin heating up some water before pouring the chocolate in. With two mugs ready, I bring them over to her, and set them on the table before her. She takes the cup into her hand, warming her fingers, before taking a sip.

"This is . . . really chocolaty," she says. "I like it."

"What's wrong with a bit more chocolate than it calls for?" I ask.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." She glances around my house and says, "I don't think I've ever been in here before. I can tell it's your place."

I glance around, too, at the blank walls, the dull furniture, and say, "You mean, a shadow could live in here and no one would know any better."

She sets the mug down with a thud and says, "Don't say that again. I hate it when you refer to yourself in that way. You're not a shadow. You're not . . . someone to be ignored. You're a perfectly capable person who's worthy of anyone's respect."

My breath catches. Her eyes meet mine. I say, "Thank you."

She casts her gaze downward. "I . . . I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly. Without saying good-bye or telling you anything. And then not talking to you at all during . . . It was just . . ."

"It's fine," I say. "It doesn't matter. I understand. Your mom . . ."

She immediately stiffens, and I cringe.

"Tsukiko," I say. "I'm sorry about your mother . . . I know it was sudden and unexpected, even if you . . ."

"It was sudden and unexpected, even if we were expecting it?" she says, her voice bitter. "Yeah, I know. I know better than anyone."

I hate seeing her this way. Full of anguish and pain, so low to the ground that she doesn't know how to even begin to look up.

I remember my conversation with her mother. I take in a deep breath and steady myself.

"Tsukiko," I say, and her eyes meet mine briefly. "It may seem cliché, but it's true. Your mom cared for you, and she loved you so much. But she doesn't want you to be like this. She needs you to seize the chances that she can no longer take. She wants you to live life for her — and with her, because she's with you, too. Right? That presence you feel, like she's always here, like you'll never be able to forget her. Right now, that might seem overwhelming, like too much, but it's a good thing. It's a sign that you really loved her in return, and that you'll be able to carry her with you wherever you go. Tsukiko, please. Keep your mother with you, but don't dwell on her death. Live your own life, and remember hers."

Tsukiko's eyes are downcast, but slowly, they left to meet mine. "Mayuzumi-senpai . . ." Her eyes begin to water. "I . . . I . . . I'm sorry. I know I'm being stupid. T-thank you . . ." She gasps in several breaths, and her hand flops in front of her. I reach forward and take it, stilling its motion. She stares at our two hands, the fingers intertwined together.

"It's what friends do, right?" I say.

She blinks several times, fast, to clear away the tears. "Right, right. Thank you, Senpai. More than anything, I'm glad I'm met you."

"And I . . ." I swallow but force myself to continue. "I'm glad you're back. I missed you."

Her eyes widen slightly at the words, but then the smallest of smiles graces her lips and . . . like always, it makes my own words worth it.

"How was Tokyo?" I ask.

"Hmm? It was fine."

The two of us sit on the couch, a little bit near, but also a little distance between us. Her hands lie on her lap, and she stares down at them, like she doesn't know what to do with them.

"How was your family?"

"Fine. They . . . didn't talk to me much. Other than the apologies and comforting, of course. Most of them . . . I don't think they really knew Mom that well."

"I hate it when people try to pretend like they understand, when in reality, they're just keeping up appearances. Or they just like to think they understand."

Tsukiko frowns. "I don't think it was like that. I mean, they all were truly sorry. It's just . . . none of them were as close to Mom as I was, so I suppose it's hard for me to think that they can relate."

She shifts, stretching out her legs and arms before her. I say, "Do you . . . not get along with the rest of your family well? Is that why you and your mom moved?"

"Our family can be a bit stressing," she admits. "But it's not like they're a bad family. Mom just wanted to get away for the . . . last few months." She struggles with the last few words.

"What did you think of the move?"

"I didn't really care either way. I'd support Mom any way I could."

"That sounds like you."

She sends me a sideways glance. "Ah . . . now that Mom's . . . gone, though . . ." She swallows. "They want me to move back to Tokyo. They've agreed to continue paying the rent for 336 and let me live there by myself until term ends, but once this year is over . . . I'm going to be moving back."

I stare at her, and it takes me a moment to realize that my hands are clenched by my sides. My body is naturally angled toward her, as if I'm having to lean closer to her because I can't understand what she's saying.

"You're . . . leaving?"

She nods.

"In . . ." My mind quickly makes the calculations. "In three months?"

She nods again, and her lips are pressed together in a thin white line.

"But . . ." I don't finish.

It's not like I can tell her to stay. I have no hold or sway over her after all. When she leaves, I'll be heading to college. It seems like we'll both be going our separate ways . . .

I unclench my fist and force the words out, "I . . . I see."

"I like Rakuzan," she says. "I'd rather not leave, but . . . it's illogical for me to stay here, in an apartment by myself . . . when my aunt has a spare room and they can enroll me in the same school my cousins go to. I mean, it's just unreasonable, right?"

"Right," I echo.

She gives me a desperate look, like she's almost hoping I'll argue, but I suddenly feel drained. I know I should say something; maybe I even want to say something, but I can't seem to find the energy to search for the right words to speak in this situation. So I lean back into the couch's cushions and close my eyes.

"Mayuzumi-senpai?" Her voice seems distant, so far away.

I open my eyes, just slightly to see her face hovering above mine. I breathe out, and stare at her, her brown eyes, and the purple strand of hair escaping from behind her ear.

"What time is it?" I ask, trying to distract myself.

She blinks, then glances at the clock on her phone. "It's almost six. Are you getting hungry?"

"No. No, that's not it. It's just . . . do you have anything going on for the rest of the night?"

"No, not really." She licks her lips. "Actually, I was wanting to ask you . . . about that . . ." She glances at the wall, to the direction of her apartment. "I don't really . . . feel like going over there right now."

She glances at me imploringly, and I stare back at her, waiting for her to continue. She doesn't, just shifts uncomfortably.

It takes me a few moments to realize what she's asking.

"You want to stay here?"

She nods, a quick and sharp movement. "Of course, if you don't want me, I can go over there. But it's kind of lonely now and I can't even walk in there without —" She shudders and doesn't finish. "But if you —"

"No, it's fine," I say, cutting through her blabbering.

Her eyes go large. "Really?"

"Of course."

"R-really?" She shifts on the couch again. "If it's too much of a bother, I can —"

"Tsukiko, stop. It's fine. I already said it's fine. This apartment's built for more than one person anyway. There's a spare room. And an extra bed in it for when my parents visit. You can use that. You're welcome to stay as long as you want."

"Mayuzumi-senpai, t-thank you!"

I wave a hand at her. "Don't worry about it. Any friend would do it."

She shakes her head. "I don't think so."

"You don't . . . what?"

"I don't think just any friend would do what you've done for me," she says, tilting her head thoughtfully. "I don't think you're just any friend. That's what I'm trying to say."

A/N: Wow, Mayuzumi's really grown attached, hasn't he? This chapter may seem somewhat forward in a lot of ways, especially with Mayuzumi, but because of the situation and his and Tsukiko's developing relationship, I figured out I could take some liberties.

I hope you all enjoyed! Thanks for reading. I would love to hear your thoughts. Until next time.

~ J. Dominique