sorry for the delay. I went to Quebec City for four days, and the majority of today I was really tired, but here's another chapter. I'm gonna be pretty busy this weekend too, so I'll try and get up as many chapters as I can. Enjoy!

Chapter 8: Him

I wake up, and immediately a fierce headache attacks my temples. I groan and roll over, pulling out of Hikaru's grasp. This wakes him up.

"Kao... ru?" Hikaru mumbles sleepily. He opens his eyes. "You okay?"

I shake my head. No, I'm not okay. Then I say it out loud. "No, I'm not okay. I think I need to stay home from school."

Instead of just saying shrugging and saying okay, he snuggles close to me.

"Aw, but..." He trails off, feeling my forehead. He must think it's a fever, but really I'm blushing. Underneath the blankets, Hikaru's foot is slowly rubbing my leg. Somehow I feel it's worse to do this while the sun is shining.

He slumps back into the pillows. "Fine." He whines. The touch of his foot leaves my leg, and as much as I am relieved, I'm also a little disappointed.

At that moment, the alarm goes off and our twin maids sidle into the room. "Breakfast is ready, young masters." Hikaru yawns and dismisses them, then disappears to take a shower.

I tug the blankets up to my chin and put a pillow over my face, trying to block out the sounds of Hika showering.

-oooo-

When I wake up for the second time, everything is silent. I check the clock: 10:00 A.M. No wonder.

My headache still isn't gone and my mouth is as dry as the Sahara, but I'm not hungry. Surprisingly. Usually at this time I could eat so much and not get full. I wonder if I actually am sick. Not a bodily affliction, but one of the heart. Lovesick.

Last night, we were so comfortable, and I had to open my big damn mouth and spoil it for myself.

I find myself wondering what Haruhi and Hikaru are going to be doing today. No Kaoru! Stop thinking about that!

I sit straight up in bed as a thought occurs to me. What if Hikaru asks Haruhi out today?

It would be a perfect opportunity. Since I'm not there, it gives him a reason to talk to her alone. He could ask her in the rose garden. He mentioned to me once that if he were to ask someone out it would be in the maze, preferably the center.

This is depressing me, so I pull out my iPod. Music is a good distraction, right? I press play, letting soft music fill my ears.

Would you please take me away from this place,

I cannot bear to see the look upon your faces.

That certainly applies to me. Sometimes I just wanna say fuck it and run, leaving everything behind. Sometimes I think it would be best for everyone. They wouldn't have to see me or talk to me, disgusting, sick me. And I think I'd be happier too. Get out of Japan, find a girl to love... Oh who am I kidding. I love this country, this city. And my brother.

I've barely reached this conclusion when the third line starts. Isn't it funny how fast the brain works?

And if there is some kind of God do you think He's pleased?

When he looks down on us I wonder what he sees.

I know the answer to the first part. Of course he's not pleased. In the bible, they say it's sin. Believe me, I've checked.

Although, if they could get past the gay part, would they even care about the incest? I mean, it was written a long time ago. That was probably still legal. Like Uncle Grampa.

Ha, Uncle Grampa. In our case though, it would be more like Uncle Father.

I chuckle to myself. What just went through my mind? Hikaru and I raising a child, living together, and being accepted. The smile fades from my face as I realize the finality of that. That would be... Lovely.

I sigh and lick my lips. I have a stomachache and I need to pee. I get out of bed shakily, still holding my iPod, and wobble to the bathroom.

Do you think He'd think the things we do are a waste of time?

Maybe He'd think that we are getting on just fine.

If God thinks Hikaru and I are fine, He's a sorry excuse for a god.

I use the bathroom, wash my hands, and stumble back into bed.

We are definitely not fine. We-no, I-may look fine, but in reality, I am a fucking wreck. Last night, this morning, yesterday, and every other day.

There's this overwhelming guilt I feel, like I could have a choice of who I fall in love with. And I know I really don't, but it's so wrong I can't help being guilty.

Ever since He can remember, people have died in His good name,

Long before, that September, long before hijacking planes,

He's lost the will, He can't decide, He doesn't know what's right or wrong,

That is one thing that He's sure of, this has been going on too long.

This has been going on too long. I curl my hands into fists, digging my nails into the palms of my hands. I release my hands and relax my face, which I've just realized was contorted into a grimace.

Ever since all this has started happening, there has been a thread of anger weaving its way through me, growing slowly but surely, wrapping itself around my veins and squeezing. My anger was stewing, bubbling, boiling, and now it is red-hot.