Disclaimer: This entire chapter is mine \O/ (Ye-yaaaah!) /Shot. But still, the characters aren't mine and the concept is ShellyCullen's. (I think my story line is going to be different, so technically, this far in, the plot's going to be mine...)

On another note, this is the last chapter for the next two-three weeks (the last week will probably be me grueling through jet lag (thirteen hour difference between where I am and where I'm going)), so don't expect anything new for a bit. But I'm pretty determined to get this finished, even if it means it means blowing off work and stuff, so don't worry about it being abandoned or cut early, or whatever.

On another another note, this chapter is like a filler type of thing to clear some murky things up, but it still has everything to do with the story, so don't skip it! And the chapter's a day early, if you were wondering (which you probably weren't, but still /Shrug)

And Shugo Chara isn't mine.

Chapter 5

Screwing

Months passed by with no one noticing the prince—of the very people they were hiding from—hidden in one of their comrade's room. Amu called it miraculous; Rima called it Fate smiling down on them; Kee called it, "Anyone who dares to go into Hinamori's room will be thrown out to the Angels."

Okay, not really, but he gave orders for no one to come near Hinamori's room—without having this bit of information come to Amu and/or Rima's knowledge, of course.

So, yeah, months—of endless card games, snacks and food smuggled, stealing Fujisaki and Souma's clothes without them noticing, went by; Ikuto was brought to the base during the summer, and it was nearing winter.

Aside from that, Amu found herself in Rima and Ikuto's company in her room more often than not, and Yaya managed to somehow disappear from Amu's life (for the time being, maybe). She overheard some people talking about how the new Kairi-scientist-geek-kid somehow managed to get together with the cute-but-kind-of-annoying-at-the-same-time Yaya. And needless to say, Amy was relieved—because that's one less person she'd have to worry about finding Ikuto in her room.

Rima sighed as she lay on Amu's bed, head hanging upside-down off the foot of the mattress.

Amu raised a quizzical eyebrow, looking up from her game of cards—strip poker (how he managed her to join was beyond her)—with Ikuto. "What's going on," she slowly asked.

The small blonde sighed once more, and Amu slightly narrowed her eyes at her while puffing her cheeks out. "How am I supposed to know what's wrong if you're just going to answer with sighs?"

Rima mirrored Amu's face: puffed cheeks, narrowed eyes. "I think it'd be best if we talk about it without that around to listen."

Ikuto's lips pulled downwards in a playful frown. "I'm still here, you know."

"Unfortunately," Rima muttered.

Amu rolled her eyes. "Alright; we'll continue this game when I get back, okay?"

The shirtless, sockless, and soon-to-be-pant-less Ikuto (because the fully-clothed Amu had straights the entire game, and she had a flush that time) pouted. "Can't stand to be in my company anymore?"

"Shut up," she mumbled as she put her cards in one back pocket and the deck in the other (because she can't be sure if Ikuto won't cheat, especially after her hands won every time), "you know that's not true." Her cheeks turned pink as Ikuto gave a smirk.

(Because Ikuto is just an annoying guy—Angel?—and he loves teasing her until her face is ready to practically burn off and melt to a puddle that will stain the floor if she doesn't clean it fast enough.)

"We'll be back in five, okay?"

"Okay," Ikuto agreed, pursing his lips.

Amu and Rima walked out, shutting the door behind them.

"Okay," Amu said, "what do you want to talk about?"

Rima looked up at her. "Do you know what you're doing?"

The pinkette gaped at her. "Not this again."

"I'm being serious!"

"And so am I!"

Rima groaned, covering her face with petite hands. "You're falling, Hinamori." Amu gave the blonde a pointed look that clearly said, 'What the heck are you talking about?'

"Like, you're not falling for a trick. I mean, you're falling. And this isn't the, 'Oh, help because I'm falling from tripping over a pebble of temporary infatuation!' I'm talking about the, 'I don't know what I'm doing because I threw myself over a cliff and am now diving into an eternally dark abyss of a forbidden love,' falling."

Amu blinked at her, once, twice, three times before bursting into the most painful fit of laughter she has ever burst into. And it wasn't long before Ikuto was beginning to wonder why Amu was laughing so much and poked his head out of the door—only to be met with the sight of a comically fuming Rima and a red-faced, gut-clutching, wall-leaning, tear-streaming Amu.

She laughed, telling Rima to wait with the occasional raise of a hand to signal she's almost finished—when she really wasn't.

As her laughter died down, she ushered Ikuto back into the room, leaving him pouting as she closed the door in his face.

"I'm," she choked back another fit of laughing, "sorry. Sorry. Just—that was the longest analogy you've ever used, so."

"I'm serious, Hinamori," Rima said as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes held only seriousness—and a spark of concern which she'll never admit to anyone. "You're falling hard; it's getting bad."

The mirthful expression on Amu's face fell, and seriousness hardened her look. "I—I know. I don't think I can pull myself out, either."

"That's what I was afraid of," Rima muttered before a mischievous glint flashed across her eyes. "So," she drawled slowly, "has he gotten to second base, yet?"

At an alarming rate, Amu's face flushed to a shade darker than red, and Rima nearly threw herself into a laughing fit much like Amu's earlier. "H-he hasn't e-even gotten t-to f-first, yet…"

"I'm just yanking your chain, Hinamori," Rima giggled, not at all reassuring. "I'm all for you guys hooking up and whatever, you know, even if he is second-in-command to our enemies." She gave Amu a serious look. "Just know there are going to be some boulders, mud, rocks, and all that in your way."

Silence filled the air; it was almost comfortable but still awkward. And Amu broke the silence.

"I really like him, Mashiro, and I don't what to do," Amu said, covering her face with her hands in almost exasperation. "I don't know if he's just screwing around with me or what."

"I know, Amu," Rima said, offering a small smile. "I know."

Ikuto sat against the door, listening carefully. Occasionally, he'd hear one of them say something and actually make out what they just said, but the other times, he heard muffled voices speaking—the metal door didn't help, either.

His ears perked, hearing bits and pieces of what Amu was saying,

"I really like him, Mashiro…don't know what to do…don't know if he's just screwing around…"

He didn't know what to feel—on one hand, he wanted to jump for joy when he heard that she reciprocated his feelings (even if just slightly), but he wanted to rush out there and reassure her with showers of kisses and compliments to show that he's completely serious. That second feeling was a bit too sappy for his tastes—and would probably scare her off.

Amu turned to the door and quietly said they were coming back in. When the metal door creaked as it opened, the pinkette was met with the sight of Ikuto lying on his stomach with his chin resting in his hands that were supported by his elbows. "Took you long enough."

"Yeah, yeah," Amu dismissively waved a hand. "Let's get back to that game." She reached into her back pockets for her hand and the deck, setting the latter cards on the floors between Ikuto and herself. "You're going to get your ass whooped with this hand."

"Sounds kinky," Ikuto smirked, "let's do it."

Amu's face flushed a furious red, and Ikuto chuckled. "Sh-shut up."

Ikuto ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he sat Indian-style on Amu's bed. Amu and Rima were in the mess hall getting lunch and smuggling back a box of food for Ikuto, leaving him with nothing to do.

He lifted his shirt, grimacing at the sight of the pink scar that ran diagonally across his abdomen. He traced it with a finger, visibly wincing as he felt the ridges under the pad of the digit. Still, he absentmindedly ran his hand across the flawed skin, his mind reeling as it recalled the incident that led him to the wound—to Amu.

Johnson Dark was not his father.

And Ikuto Tsukiyomi would be damned if he was anything like that man.

His thoughts were interrupted from the knock at the door before Amu said she was coming in. The prince dropped the scowl off his face and straightened his shirt. When the pinkette entered, she had a Styrofoam box in one hand and a large porcelain (black) mug in the other hand. "Hey," she greeted continued without waiting for Ikuto to respond, "lunch was weird today, so I don't know if you'll like it." She stopped to sip on the steaming liquid from the mug. "But, I don't know, we don't usually have grilled salmon with steamed rice and broccoli."

Ikuto shrugged, and Amu handed the box to him while sitting on the bed. It creaked in protest from the slight gain of weight.

"Utensils?" he asked.

"It's in the box." She continued sipping from the cup, and from where Ikuto was sitting, he could smell the telltale scent of strong green tea.

"Anything to drink?"

"You can have some of this if you want," she said, gesturing to the mug.

He shook his head. "If you didn't get anything, it's fine."

Amu's lips quirked into a smile, "It's kind of the third mug I've had. Hotori and Souma somehow managed to find me in the mess hall and talked an earful, so I got something like a headache. The tea makes it better."

"Which explains the three mugs you have had?" the prince asked as his eyebrow rose.

"Kind of, yes."

It fell silent, and it was neither awkward nor comfortable. They sat in silence, and Ikuto resisted the urge to take the mug from her hands and drink from it; he was starting to get jittery and nervous for no apparent reason.

The prince ran a hand through his blue hair, and he caught Amu glancing at him while doing it. He turned his head to look at her, and she looked away as her face erupted in a blush. His eyebrows furrowed, and he reached a hand out to cup her face and turn it to look at him.

He leaned in, and Amu did nothing but lean into his hand and look straight into his eyes. He could practically see the butterflies that danced in her stomach from her eyes, and the heat radiated into his hand, warming it. Their noses and foreheads touched and Ikuto went in for the kill.

But before his lips met with hers, Amu shied away before completely turning her body so her back would face him.

The prince frowned, slightly frustrated with himself. "What's—" wrong? He wanted to ask.

But he knew that Amu knew what the question was, but she didn't answer and let it linger, the rest unspoken, in the air.

"You're what's wrong," she answered, almost to herself.

"What?" Ikuto asked, a confusion expression overtaking his face. The fear and nervousness nearly stopped his heart. "How am I—"

"Why do you keep doing this to me?" she asked as she turned. Her golden eyes glistened; the tears were beginning to pool on her bottom eyelids. "You're always kissing me and goofing off. Do you know where that leads me?" She didn't wait for him to answer before she did. "Sleepless nights, doubting thoughts, regret, shit I don't want to deal with! Not now."

He stared at her, eye wide and mouth almost hanging open. She looked vulnerable with the tears in her eyes and her face red, but he fought to keep the urge to envelop her in his arms and whispering nothing but sweet things to her down.

Almost shamefully, he looked away to the side. "I—" can't help it.

Suddenly, the door burst open. Rima stood in the doorway, and immediately, she felt the heavy atmosphere.

Her expectant gaze fell on Ikuto. "You, come here, in the hallway, with me."

The bluenette gulped, slowly standing and hesitantly walking out the door.

The door closed, sealing his fate, and immediately, Rima fired off. "What did you do to her? Huh? Are you stupid?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "Of course you are if you're this dense and oblivious to the point where you can't tell she obviously likes you. Are you an idiot?"

"I—"

"Of course," Rima muttered. "Look, that girl," Rima started as she pointed a thumb to the door, "she really likes you, okay? You got that, lover boy? So don't play like that. Especially since you like her just as much, if not more."

"What—"

"I may not know you too well, but it's pretty obvious."

"But—"

"Just shut up! You," Rima said as she poked a small finger into his chest, making him tilt back a good centimeter or two, "need to get over your casual teasing tendencies, and just tell her you like her, okay? You're practically in love with this kid."

"…"

"Nothing to say?" Rima continued without waiting for him to answer. "Good. Anything else before I decide against what I just asked?"

"Can you—"

"No. Now go in there and get her, tiger," she answered as she pushed him towards the door.

"But I can't—"

"God! What now?" Rima asked, exasperated.

"I can't do it," Ikuto answer, giving her a withered look.

"What? Ikuto Tsukiyomi," she threatened, "you are the prince—the prince—and you can't tell her how you feel?"

"No."

"Well, why the hell not?"

"It's more complicated than what you're making it out to be, Rima," Ikuto answered as his expression grew somewhat more desperate.

"Are you serious," she deadpanned. "How is it more complicated than you like her, she likes you, you tell her, she tells you, you and her hook up, and everyone lives happily ever after?"

"She thinks I'm screwing around," he answered.

"You might as well be, because you're not exactly dropping hints the size of elephants, you know."

"I don't want to scare her off, and dammit! Rima! I can't tell her because I'm the prince of your and her greatest enemy."

Rima fell silent, knowing where this was going to go; Ikuto knew just as well, but continued anyways.

"And even if I tell her, she tells me, we hook up and whatever the hell you were saying, what chance do we actually have? I'm practically the reason why these people are in the camps, barely surviving…"

"That's not true, and you damn well know it."

"What the hell, Rima?"

"I know you aren't that type of person, Tsukiyomi," Rima said as she looked up at him. Her caramel eyes bored into his blue ones.

"And how could you possible know that?" he asked, almost mockingly.

"It's written all over your face," Rima answered, completely serious. "This is Dark's fault. She could help you defeat him, you know."

Ikuto narrowed his eyes at her so he would look like he was glaring at her instead of having his eyes widen in surprise.

"I still can't tell her, Rima," Ikuto said.

The blonde groaned in frustration. "Fine." And a wicked smirk stretched across her face, scaring Ikuto (just a little bit, he swore). "In time, she'll find out."

The prince felt shudders rack through his body, and the goose bumps rose on his arms.

Rima left the issue alone as the weeks slowly passed by and she felt somewhat sated with Ikuto's—indirect—promise of telling Amu how he felt. However, it was taking longer than she expected, and it didn't help because Kee kept sending her to missions that always had something to do with the camp his brother was running. Jin gave her the creeps and something always jarred her off from him.

Other things were beginning to bother her as well: Like those prototype bracelets Kee gave Amu and Rima on that mission where they were kidnapped by the prince. Something was definitely going on with that.

Rima twisted the metal bracelet around her wrist—a habit she picked up ever since Kee gave it to her and Amu. Something was wrong, and Jin, and possibly Kee, was behind it.

If they were kidnapped, wouldn't something have alerted the base?

The matter of the issue had been left alone for too long, Rima decided as she stood up from the loveseat she was lying in while she was—distractedly—reading.

I'll deal with it myself.