Wow I didn't expect to upload again this fast, but this chapter's short and follows on the tails of the last one. As always, please tell me what you're thinking!

The next night when Momiji called, Namie didn't answer.

OOO

On Monday, Momiji wandered the halls at lunch, looking for Namie. He hadn't spoken to her since the party on Saturday, and after disappearing quickly at the end of their class, she was nowhere to be found.

Finally, by pure luck, he spotted her in an empty classroom, diligently working with papers spread on the desk around her.

"Hey," Momiji smiled, coming over to her. "I've been looking for you!"

"Really?" Namie didn't look up. "Fancy that."

Momiji blinked. "Are you ok?"

Now Namie did raise her head. She regarded Momiji as if he'd said something completely incomprehensible.

Shifting uncomfortably, Momiji felt the penny drop, and he asked, "Are you still mad about the party?"

Namie snorted and looked back down.

"Look, I thought it'd be fun!"

"Hard to have fun when you've got no one to talk to."

"You could have talked to some people. Or tried to get to know them." Now Momiji was starting to feel a little annoyed. It was like speaking to a brick wall.

"I did try." Namie finally put down her pen and gave him her full attention. "But it's difficult to be in a room full of people who know each other very well and don't know or care about you. And your one link has gone off somewhere else," she added contemptuously.

Momiji rolled his eyes, his own voice becoming harder too. "Like you can't strike up a conversation with a stranger. That's how you meet new people. That's how you form relationships."

"I don't need more relationships."

"Yeah right. Have you noticed you don't have many friends?"

Namie's eyes narrowed. "Maybe I don't want friends. I'd rather be left alone."

"People can't help you if you're all alone Namie!"

"I don't need help!" Her shout echoed around the empty room as Namie shot to her feet.

Momiji took a deep breath. He spoke calmly, trying to get her to see. "You can't hide from the world. You have to let people in. It's ok to let your guard down and be vulnerable sometimes."

White-hot fury burned in Namie's face. Momiji had never seen her like this. "You," she hissed. "You of all people, have no right to tell me to be more open."

"What is that supposed to mean?" he said, reeling back.

Namie put on a thousand watt, obviously fake smile.

"Oh look at me," she said in a singsong voice. "I'm so happy and perky, and I love singing and bunnies and ice cream." Her face hardened again. "I need to let people in? You hide from the world more than anyone with your little act."

It was as if she had slapped him. "It's not an act," he gasped, reflexively.

"Bull." Namie stared him down, even as Momiji desperately wanted to look away. "I know you've got at least as many problems as I do but you're too scared to let anyone see them. So you refuse to grow up and deal with anything."

And now Momiji was mad too. He couldn't remember the last time he'd really gotten angry but now he wanted to scream, to kick something, to run and hide from everything in the world, especially Namie.

"What the hell do you know? You don't know anything about me!"

Namie regarded him coolly. "And whose fault is that?"

"Whatever," Momiji tried to say equally as coolly. "I don't care what you think."

"Then why did you even bother talking to me in the first place?" Namie shot another dig.

Angry reasons chased each other around Momiji's head. There were a few calmer, more thoughtful ones deep down, but Momiji didn't want to think about them right now, so he spat the first thing that came to mind.

"I thought you looked like you needed some fun and humor in your life. So sue me for trying to help."

Wrong answer. A mask of deadly calm settled instantly over Namie's face, as his words hit home. It was somehow more terrifying than her fury. Momiji felt some of his anger drain away, leaving an empty space in his stomach as she stood to collect her papers into a pile.

"Namie—" he began but she cut him off when her eyes, completely devoid of emotion, met his.

"Thank you," she said flatly, "for your concern. You don't have to offer your help any more. As you've noticed, I'm not much good at fun. And I don't want, or need, your charity."

OOO

That night, Momiji didn't call.

Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya