A/N: here's a nice, fat chapter for you guys! so it's important to note that i did NOT write the poem in this chapter...i have no idea who did. i know it's not the best written poem with a lot of insight, but when i found it two years ago, i thought it was perfect in its concise-ness and simplicity. this poem is actually what inspired Unwritten. and get ready for a lot of Anna introspection

Broaching a topic is a meticulous and complicated art. It requires skillful tact, eloquence, and not acting like a dumb ass. There are the people who make small talk, asking you about the weather, is your mother doing well, how're Great Aunt Marjorie's weak ankles holding up now that she's taking a jazzercise class and then—BAM, out of nowhere, they hit you over the head with a Oh by the way, you're fired.

Then there are the people who beat around the bush persistently, perpetually, unflaggingly, tediously, interminably until you're sick to the teeth of it and demand to know what they want. Of course, they respond all wide eyed and innocent with a Who, me? expression on their face, naïveté in their voices, and manipulation in their minds as they give their spiel of I just wanted to ask…could you maybe…if possibly…I didn't know that you'd get so…just…it's okay, never mind, to which you are obligated to run your hand through your hair, sigh, and give in.

And who could forget the people who lug it around like an oversized club of sorts, waiting to bonk you unconscious with the gravity of what they said. Or the people who barrage you with reminders of You know you're my best friend, right? My best, best, best, bestestestest friend in the whole world. I would do anything for you. And you still owe me, remember? I'd like to think that you'd help out your BEST friend, yeah? So… canIborrowacoupleofthousanddollarstopayformyroommate'scarwhichIcrashedyesterday?

Three very different people at this very moment were trying to figure out which of the classy, tactful approaches would work the best for them when bringing their topic of interest up.

Kyoyama Residence

Let's start as usual with one Tamao Tamamura who it appears has reached some kind of realization, a flash of enlightenment if you will, which has stopped her furious taptaptapping away at the keys of her typewriter. Either that or she has become seriously indigested from all of the underbaked cookies she had downed earlier. For the sake of this story and Tamao's dignity, let's go with the first explanation.

"Ah, Jeanne!" Tamao squeaked as the fully dressed younger girl suddenly emerged from the room.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, Tamao." Jeanne looked worried. "But I think I'm going to go home now."

Tamao smoothed out a few wrinkles from her shirt. "Are you sure? Because if you need a ride tomorrow morning…"

The freshman smiled. "No it's fine. I have a few things to take care of back home…and it looks like you do too." Jeanne motioned towards Tamao's typewriter. "Marco should be outside by now anyways." As if on cue, the older man flashed his headlights outside of Tamao's house. "I'll see you at school tomorrow. Thank you!" And with that, she went out the front door.

Tamao kept staring at the door long after the younger girl had left and turned back to the task at hand (read: staring blankly at the piece of paper rolled into her typewriter) for a good ten minutes or so. "Um…" Tamao lifted her fingers up and wiggled them around as she struggled to focus on her writing. Which was next to impossible.

Maybe…Do I like him? I suppose maybe there is some truth to what Pirika is saying…but I've never thought about him like that. I've never liked anyone else other than—

"Hey, Tamao, what are you still doing up?" Yoh closed the front door behind him and took off his shoes. "Couldn't sleep?" He flashed a grin at her.

But instead of melting or burning up like she usually did in his presence (much more when he grinned at her), Tamao just gave a small, tired smile. "I guess you could say that…" …I'm not nervous around him?

His smile momentarily fell as he saw the distress that Tamao was in: disheveled hair, pajamas all messed up, papers strewn all over the living room table, discarded chip bags all over the sofa. "What's wrong?"

"Huh? Nothing's wrong," she said, her voice cracking a little. "Why do you ask?"

"Well…" He made a sort of pathetic gesture at the miniature disaster zone she was sitting in the midst of. "Just a wild guess, I suppose." He sat down next to her, attempting to clean off the seat of all the food wrappers. "Do you want to talk about it? Only if it makes you feel better." He gently smiled, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

Her heart skipped a beat, touched that he actually cared enough to make that offer. I can't believe I'm actually having a normal conversation with him—without blushing or stuttering.

"I think I might like Horohoro," she blurted out.

And there goes the "normal" part of the conversation down the drain…

He gave her a knowing look. "Heh."

She groaned. "Was it that obvious? I don't know if I actually do or not…And the complicated part is that he's ignoring me. I think he's mad." She pursed her lips in thought. "And I'm trying to apologize to him, but I don't know how. What if he doesn't accept my apology?" Yoh shook his head. "Or what if he does but he doesn't feel the same way about me? Do I even like him in that way?" Tamao drew her knees up and rested her head on them. Yoh thought about it for a few moments as Tamao kept up the tempestuous cycle of self-doubt and worry in her head.

"Think about it this way…do you like him in the same way you like me?"

She looked up. She paused. She shook her head, subsequently surprising herself.

"See, you care about me like I was your brother, right? But you care about Horohoro in a different way," Yoh explained, standing up.

He…he's right. Yoh is more like my brother now. She blinked, trying to register this new perspective of hers. "Umm, but the problem is…I don't really know how to…bring it up with him. Every time I start typing, I get stuck. I have writer's—" She furrowed her brows when she saw a grocery bag on the floor by his feet. "Yoh…why were you out so late?"

"Er, about that…" He made an awkward attempt to hide it but instead tripped over it, spilling its contents all over the floor. "Guess there's no point in trying to hide it now." He sighed pulled out a hard hat and a bright orange vest. "No, I don't have a fetish for bright, fluorescent orange apparel. Yes, I'm working for Manta's dad's construction company," he recited in an attempt to ward off any questions Tamao might have.

"W-What?" Tamao's mouth opened and closed as a million different things competed to be the first thing she said. She bit her lip as her brain attempted to wrap itself around what Yoh had just told her. "But…but your grandparents have a lot of money!" She narrowed her eyes slightly. "And your parents have good jobs too…" Tamao struggled to understand why Yoh, the Yoh Asakura, son of one of the most influential families in the region, and admittedly one of the laziest people she had ever met, would willingly (!) subject himself to hard, manual labor at some of the ungodliest hours of the day.

"You can't tell anyone or they're going to make me stop." His voice lowered. "Well, um, I got into Village University…" He rifled around in his pocket to extract an extremely wrinkled, folded piece of paper and handed it to Tamao.

"Y-You got into VU? That's…that's amazing, Yoh! Oh my…wow…and it's such a prestigious school." Tamao's face lit up as she studied the worn out acceptance letter which, apparent from its numerous creases, Yoh had read over obsessively the past four weeks. "Did…"

He put the paper back into his pocket. "Yeah, she got in of course. It's Anna we're talking about here." Tamao smiled, slightly embarrassed that she even thought Anna Kyoyama, perfect student extraordinaire, might not have been accepted. "That's why I got the job. Since no one wants to work the graveyard shift and I only have school in the day time, it pays well and there were a lot of openings. And Mr. Oyamada pumped up my wages too because of everything I've done for their family and all."

"But why do you even need a job. I'm sure that your family can afford the school, no problem." Tamao cocked her head and leaned forward.

"Yeah, I know that of course. But they don't want me to go to Village. They think it's too far from home. They just don't get that maybe, just maybe I don't want to stay in Japan for the rest of my life." Yoh closed his eyes. "This is the first thing that I've ever actually wanted for myself. I mean, they made me do kendo, they arranged my marriage when I was ten, they have my whole life planned out for me. I don't resent any of it, I love kendo obviously and I never have wanted to break off the engagement with Anna of course. But is it so bad that I want to think about myself for once?" Yoh sank back into the couch, totally defeated and resigned.

Tamao's eyes widened. "W-Wait…they're not going to pay the tuition?"

"No, they said they would after they had this really long talk with grandpa. But the deal is that I have to take care of finding a place to live. I didn't reply fast enough to get a dorm so now I have to find an apartment…which I did on short notice." Yoh sighed.

"That must be really expensive…" Tamao suddenly felt silly as her problems were dwarfed by Yoh's.

He nodded. "It is. And I want to raise enough money so that Anna and I can live comfortably in America. So I don't have to rely on my family all the time…I don't want her to have to worry. She deserves this…" Yoh's voice trailed off as he slipped into thought.

Tamao's heart jumped as she was touched by the amount of love that Yoh had for Anna…but then her face fell as she realized that this meant they would be leaving in a few months for America of all places. For four whole years! I can't imagine what it would be like without them around…

"Well, I've bothered you long enough," Yoh said cheerfully as he packed away his things. "I hope that I at least helped a bit."

"Of course you did. Thank you," Tamao said warmly as Yoh waved and went to his room.

"Thank you." And she somehow she was able to write again.

Marco's Residence

The second of the three people-in-crisis happened to be Lyserg Diethel who, coincidentally (or perhaps not-so-coincidentally) happened to be pondering his own difficult situation at the same time. This pondering manifested itself in the form of one British exchange student staring up, in bed, at his ceiling, wondering how exactly he was supposed to apologize to one certain Ainu girl by the name of Pirika Usui. Admittedly, it was his fault. Admittedly, he had overreacted when he found out that his old circle of friends was somehow connected to Hao. Admittedly, he was embarrassed when Jeanne, soft yet resolute in her demands, had told Lyserg that she would like for him to at least be on good terms with Pirika, who Jeanne had actually become good friends with in the past couple of months or so. Admittedly, in summary, he had been one, huge prick to Pirika who had been nothing to nice to him ever since he came to Funbari Hill.

Lyserg sighed as he reran yet another plausible scenario through his head and grumbled as that one fell to hypothetical pieces. What do I do? I've already thought of groveling for forgiveness, buying her nice things, worshiping her…

"Lyserg?" Marco knocked as he stood beside the doorframe. "You didn't drink the tea I set out for you again…"

"British people don't drink tea every single hour, Marco!" Lyserg pulled the blanket over his head. "I've told you that every day since I've come here! Where did you even get that from?"

"Urban Dictionary of course, very credible source." Marco put his hands on his hips. "What's the matter?"

"Does there have to be something wrong with me if I don't want to drink tea?"

His temporary guardian merely stared at him. "You know what I'm talking about."

Lyserg stared up at his ceiling. "Jeanne wants me to apologize to Pirika…"

"Oh?" Marco sat down on the bed.

"But the problem is," Lyserg gulped. "I don't know exactly…how…to."

"The question is, young Lyserg, is do you want to apologize to the girl?"

"Of course I do. We were good friends before. And I want to please Jeanne too."

Marco pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he got a gleam in his eye. Uh-oh, this can't be good.

"As an experienced high school guidance counselor, I am now an expert in all teenage relations!" Marco cried as Lyserg winced. Most of Marco's suggestions to students usually ended in failure since the self-proclaimed expert had much more knowledge of foreign cars and guns than of the workings of the adolescent mind. "Now just tell me everything I need to know so that I can formulate a strategy for you! Pamphlet?" Marco extended a brochure that advertised in bright, gaudy print: HOW TO TALK TO GIRLS! Counselor Marco's Guide to Understanding the Female Gender.

Lyserg looked appalled as he studied the front cover of the pamphlet. No wonder so many of Marco's students have turned into social outcasts at school… "N-No, that's quite all right, Marco. I think I can handle it myself—"

"Nonsense! There's nothing I can't solve!" The older man batted his hand dismissively.

"No, really. Really, Marco." He sat up in bed, his heart pounding. "It's quite alright. I'll be fine on my own. Really." He began to panic. I'd rather eat nails than take advice from a man whose definition of casual Friday is short leather shorts and body fitted shirts.

Marco studied the younger boy's face, his arms crossed in exaggerated thought. "Well…whatever you say, young Lyserg!" He slapped him on the back. "As long as you do not upset Jeanne of course. If you do…" Marco made a slitting motion across his throat.

Lyserg nodded enthusiastically. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said shakily, imagining Marco's rage if Jeanne ever came home in tears because of what Lyserg had done. Hell hath no fury, etc, etc.

Marco shot one last dark look at Lyserg before his face lit up in a blinding smile. "Good night. I shall make you some tea to help you go to sleep!" He exited the room, skipping and humming a tune that sounded oddly like "My Girl."

Why did Funbari Hill High School ever think it would be a good idea to assign Jeanne and me to him? Why? He's obviously not sane! Lyserg glared in horror at the pamphlet Marco had left on his night stand for a few more minutes until he got up to get a drink of water.

As he entered the living room, Jeanne looked up from the book she was reading on the couch. "Oh, hello, Lyserg!" She smiled at him as she closed the novel. "You couldn't sleep either?"

Lyserg blushed. "U-Uh, what are you still doing up, Jeanne? Y-You need your rest!" he stuttered, flustered that she had caught him dressed in such an indecent (aka, embarrassing) manner. Why did I have to wear the pajama bottoms with cats all over them? he mentally berated himself.

"I just got home from Tamao's house," she said slowly as she observed Lyserg's awkward, jerky movements. "I slept over to celebrate Pirika's performance in the play." It might have been that Lyserg was still embarrassed by the smiling cat faces on his pants, or because the girl he loved was in the same room as him, but he could swear that Jeanne had slightly stressed Pirika's name.

"O-Oh yes. I forgot that you were supposed to stay the night. Wait, then how come you're home?"

Jeanne gave a small smile. "I had a feeling something might have been upsetting you…"

Lyserg blinked rapidly. "R-Really?"

She nodded. "Would you like to tell me what's on your mind?" She patted the open seat next to her.

He sat down. "Well I was just talking to Marco…" She frowned a bit.

"It isn't always a good idea to talk to Marco about personal problems…" she said, half-jokingly, half dead on serious as she motioned towards the kitchen where the guidance counselor was busy at work boiling seven kettles of tea (all different flavors) for no apparent reason while singing a number from The Sound of Music.

Lyserg inwardly groaned as he made a mental note to pour the tea later into what he had convinced himself was a thirsty hibiscus plant. "I am aware of that…" He grimaced as Marco's cheerful call of It's teatiiiiiiiime echoed into the room. "But I was just thinking of a way to apologize to Pirika…" Here, Jeanne noticeably brightened. "…But I have to admit, I'm stuck." He laughed bitterly.

Jeanne tilted her head upwards, causing a shower of her starlight colored hair (that he had admired for so long, but that's not the point) to cascade down her back. "Oh Lyserg," she said sadly. "Boys never do realize how simple the answer to their problems is, do they?"

Lyserg just wanted to collapse. Throw in the proverbial freakin' towel. Just walk away as a certain young lady by the name of Kelly Clarkson had wailed into his ears by way of his iPod's headphones late at night. Wave the white flag so that the enemy otherwise known as the entire female race would stop bombarding the shit out of his exhausted regiment. In other words, he wanted to give up.

"What…is…the…answer?" he asked in a half-hearted, last ditch attempt, full well knowing that Jeanne, just like every other girl he had asked in the last month, would not tell him. Knowing that she would just look at him in a What, you expect me to tell you the answer? To betray my fellow girl? Hah, in your dreams! Knowing that she would want him to figure it out for himself. Knowing that that would probably be the ideal way, the preferred way to go about it so that he can grow as a person and so on and so forth as they say in self-help books. So Lyserg didn't really expect an answer. But what a lovely surprise it was when he was met with:

"Just go up to her and say you're sorry and that you were wrong and overreacted."

First: "….."

Then: an odd sort of choking sound

Later: "Mphh."

After: "T-Th"

Finally: "THAT'S the answer?"

His mind was about to implode in on itself. He refused to believe it. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't allow himself to believe it. And the masculine part of his brain, hopped up on testosterone but mostly anger at himself that he didn't think of this earlier, told him that he shouldn't believe it. It is coming from a girl after all, it remarked snidely, snarkily scoffing at the idea. Thankfully, the realistic, rational section of his mind stomped this notion out and ordered Lyserg to just accept it already, man before Jeanne threw him another curveball in this game more commonly known as male/female interaction.

"Al…right…then…I'm…going…to…go…to…sleep," he said mechanically as he dumbly stood up, still trying to comprehend the utter and complete simplicity of it all. Aren't girls supposed to be complicated?! Ugh, they are so confusing! Jeanne giggled and waved goodnight to him as he walked back to his room, ignoring Marco's squawks of But what about your tea?!?!

"Lyserg?"

"U-Uh, yes, Jeanne?"

She smiled and pointed. "I like the kittens on your pajamas!"

Lyserg mumbled something along the lines of I'm never wearing these again walked back to his room as fast as possible without his legs detaching from his body.

Kyoyama Residence

Now, dear reader, let us return to Tamao's humble abode. Anna's room to be exact. The lair of the mistress of FHHS. The chamber of the future, successful onsen owner. The threshold of the she-devil. But never before in her entire life had Anna ever felt this human, this vulnerable as she contemplated her current dilemma the same time she heard Tamao and Yoh's incomprehensible murmurings from the living room and Lyserg was struggling with Marco's offerings of tea some miles away.

She took out her own acceptance letter that had arrived in the mail a month before and stared at it. It wasn't that she didn't want to go to VU. She would love it (or at least experience some type of affection towards it, as Anna still hadn't figured out the complex and all too human inner workings of love yet), considering it was better than she had hoped for. It was prestigious, it was a good school and Yoh had gotten in too—she shook her head. Again, it wasn't that she didn't want to go. More like…couldn't, she thought expressionlessly while staring at the piece of paper that was covered in Congratulations! and We hope to see you in the fall!

But how am I going to tell Yoh that I…can't go. Granted, even though Anna wanted nothing more in the world than to forbid Yoh from moving thousands upon thousands of miles away from her (and her supervision!), she knew that she wouldn't be able to bear ordering him to give up his dream. He has worked…hard…for this, she thought begrudgingly.

And yet, she was still at a loss for how to tell him her current predicament. She had it all planned out: perhaps take some night courses, maybe she could enroll in an online class, Kino and Tamao would surely be able to help her out as well. She herself had no real need to even go to a school as long as she ended up with a degree, it was fine with her. But first she actually had to relay the news first.

The mumblings from the living room ceased and she heard footsteps passing by her room which suddenly came to a halt.

"Goodnight, Anna."

Every night for the past month he had done this. In the quietest almost too soft to be heard whisper he said those two words without fail, probably thinking that she was asleep, probably thinking that she would never hear it. But she did. She stayed awake until she heard him say his nightly farewell and over time, she found it rather hard to actually fall asleep until he passed by her room. She sunk into apathy every time she tried to avoid thinking about how it would be to spend four years with minimal visits without Yoh. Yoh, who she had spent her entire life with, from the moment of her birth to when they would both die. Yoh, who knew her better than any other person on the planet ten times over. Yoh, who understood what she was thinking without even having to say a word. With his stupid goofy smile, and carefree, happy go lucky attitude that irked her beyond belief and his horrid taste in music. And yet…

She would miss him. Though she would never be caught dead admitting it, she would miss him with her entire being. She had barely made it through September without him, when he was away in God knows what country at that point for his kendo tournament. Only the arrival of Tamao in the beginning of that month had kept her sane, though she never showed it. She kept up her trademark disinterested persona, pretending that she didn't give two shits that her fiancée was halfway across the world for four, grueling weeks. And people believed her. Or rather, they expected it from her. How did that blue haired dork put it again? Oh yes, that she wasn't capable of feeling love. Or sympathy. Or any type of emotion aside from anger.

But the problem is that she was completely capable of doing so. She felt too much, she cared too much, she was hurt too much. And since people expected it from her, she never let it show. Otherwise, how would they react when their leader, their resolute rock in the storm, suddenly was subject to the passing whims and passions of emotion? Everything would fall to pieces. And Anna would never under any circumstances let that happen. She needed order, she breathed it, exuded it, lived it. She was the epitome of structure and form. She loved order to death.

Why did she love it so much? Because it was the only thing that could be depended on in any stage of your life. Families, sure they love you but if you do something wrong then it's Hello, disownment! Goodbye, Anna. Lovers? Same thing. They'll tell you that you're their own and only and next thing you know, they're stabbing a variety of kitchen utensils into your back the moment you slight them. Money is transient as it passes hands as fast as quicksilver, possessions fade away over time, awards and titles are forgotten and have to be constantly competed for and renewed. Yes, order was constant, it was consistent, it was perpetual and reliable. It was always there as long as Anna traded in her human side every single day. And it was a price Anna was more than willing to pay.

But then how would she react when Yoh was gone? Recently Anna had started to wonder if she loved order or Yoh himself. Perhaps to her, Yoh was that steadiness she needed. The constancy of seeing him every day, of him setting a cup of coffee out for her when she got home late, of his simple words that calmed her down whenever she was angry at herself, of him saying goodnight at around three in the morning. He was perpetually there for her and maybe, just maybe over the years she had taken it for granted. And that's why she would be so lost once what she had become so accustomed to was taken away from her. That expected familiarity of his eyes, his arms, his smile, his hair, even his stupid orange headphones would be forced from her and flung over to America. America that had millions of people. Of the female variation.

That's what she hated. He would find another girl, a sweet little thing who would love him openly, who would hold his hand at school, who would kiss him gently in public, who would actually treat him like he was a human being. In summary, someone who would give him everything that she couldn't and then some. And the part that hurt the most is that Anna knew he deserved it. That she couldn't blame him for wanting more, for opting out of the arrangement, for leaving her; hell, if she was Yoh, she would leave herself. She felt disgusting and greedy like she was refusing to share him with anyone else that could give him something better. Like she was hoarding him all to herself, knowing that once he saw what else was out there, that there indeed was actually something else besides Anna out there, that he would run and never look back. He really, truly deserved everything that the world could offer him. And she didn't even deserve him and his love.

Which is why she had to let him go. She sat on her bed and put her VU acceptance letter away and tried to think of a way to tell him what was happening, what was preventing her from joining him. Of course, if she ever told him any of this, how she felt about him and how she was just disgusted with the way that she was treating him, how undeserving she was of him, he wouldn't hear any of it. He would shake his head and say that he loved her and that none of that was true. But Anna knew that it was true. That the only reason he said that was because she had trained him to. She had trained him over the years to react like that, she conditioned him to the point where he actually thought he was in love with her, that he genuinely cared for her. But she knew that he didn't. He couldn't love her. How could anyone in their right mind love Anna Kyoyama? They couldn't. Who in their right mind would? No one. He would say that he loved her because he was afraid. Scared of what she would do to him if he said otherwise. That he would get punished, beaten, sentenced to a month's worth of physical training. That she would lash out at him if he didn't.

What have I done?

She heard Tamao pack something up and head back to her room but instead of going directly to bed, she knocked shyly at Anna's door and entered.

"Hi, Anna." Tamao shifted uncomfortably the huge, unwieldy typewriter that Ainu doofus had gotten her for Christmas. She dug at the carpeting with her feet. "A-Are you…" She licked her lips nervously and looked up at Anna. "Are you okay?"

Anna didn't know what to say. She was unprepared for this. She couldn't bring herself to explain why lately she was quieter than usual, more irritable than usual. So instead she just kept silent and exited the room and handed Tamao something on the way out. She stared in confusion at the retreating figure of her older cousin and looked at what she had pressed into Tamao's hand.

A slender, white pregnancy test looked back up that proclaimed in a large, pink positive sign that yes, indeed, Anna Kyoyama's worst fears had come true and no, she was not okay: she was going to be a mother.

Funbari Hill High School

Shooting Star (Spring Edition)

That Complex Chemical Reaction Known as Unrequited Love

By Tamao Tamamura

It's hard to say what I feel inside
but there's emotions I can no longer hide
a change in you I hope I won't see
when I express these feelings within me

Weird as it may seem to you
as days pass I keep thinking of you
Perhaps love is really blind
For I just can't get you out of my mind

I know it's wrong to fall in love with you
but please don't tell me you hate me too
God knows I'm trying my best to change my acts
and now I'm facing some cold and rotten facts

I'm not asking you to love me too
and I know my dreams will never come true
Your warm smile is all I need to see
And a simple hello is more than enough for me

All I ask of you is some attention
And just a little sign of affection
That will help me make my life complete
Creating memories no one else can repeat

I hope you'll try to understand and help me face reality
I have never felt like this before
so please don't say you won't see me anymore

Free Period

In the end, Tamao knew it wasn't her best work. The word choice, the syntax, the structure. But she knew that something this important to her couldn't be bogged down by unnecessarily elaborate apologies. She needed something simple, straight to the point and that conveyed her message clearly. And that is exactly what she got. Not too obvious that screamed Oh hey, FHHS! I'm apologizing to Horohoro! Now everyone knows! but not too vague that even he himself wouldn't be able to see it. This was perfect for her purpose and she was content and happy enough about it. Now, I think it's high time for a cup of coffee and some peace and quiet…especially after last night. She had barely gotten any sleep even after getting to bed past three. And with what she had discovered about Anna… Oh my, I wonder how this is going to work out. Is she still going to go to VU? Has she told Yoh yet? Probably not. She mindlessly flicked out the combination to open her locker. Poor Anna…She sighed. At least I don't have any homework to worry about for the next few days. Thank goodness it's spring break tomorrow! She peered inside her locker for her manila folder.

"Don't tell me I left it in English class," she groaned. "Perfect." And with that, she banged her head against her locker in defeat.

Room 522

"Read it." Joco slammed down a copy of the Shooting Star fresh off the press on the desk in front of Horohoro. "Read it, and tell me how you freakin' feel about yourself for hurting Tamao this bad. Do you have any idea how much you have to do to make her this vulnerable? And in a school wide publication too! Yeah, she's nothing like Anna but she still has that Kyoyama pride she had to swallow to humble herself to do this!" Joco was seething mad as he continued. "And you're still going to keep up this stupid game of ignoring her. Poor Tamao. That poor girl. I pity her, you know? For falling in love with such a heartless bastard like yourself."

Horohoro didn't move. "I read it already…" he mumbled.

"Oh, you did? So how do you feel? Do you feel proud about what you've done? Did you get back at her like you've hoped?"

Horohoro was silent.

"You're blind, man! You have to be fuckin' blind to not see what's in front of you! You have this great girl who actually cares about you for once in your sorry life and what do you do? You're trying to force her out. That's what you're doing. That's exactly what you're doing here. And it doesn't make any sense. Horohoro, the guy who always did the right thing, the reasonable thing. You know what, I don't see any reason or logic in what you're doing right now though. I don't get you, man. I just don't get you."

Joco clenched his fists. "She loves you so much that even if it hurts her not to be a part of your life, she'll do it. She'll keep out of your way if that's what you want. If that isn't love, I don't know what is. She's not asking for much in return. She just wants you to look at her and she'll be happy, high as a freakin' kite. You have no idea what you've done to her, do you?" Joco shook his head and laughed cynically. "You don't. See, with girls like your sister and Anna, you'll know when you've hurt them or pissed them off. They'll make it known. They'll shove it in your face that you've done something to them. Even Jeanne will tell you upfront. But no. Tamao's different. She hides it because she thinks that she'll be a downer on everyone else. What word did she use….Oh yeah, an 'inconvenience.' Can you believe that? An inconvenience. She thinks that how she feels, what's tearing her up inside for two months, two whole months, man, will be an inconvenience on our good time."

Joco ran a hand through his hair. "Some people might think that her keeping quiet is just her being weak. You know what I think? I think it's her being strong. She's stronger than Pirika and Jeanne and Anna and Kanna and Mari and Machi and Ms. Jun and the twins and Sati and every other girl at this school. She's self-sacrificing. She puts others before herself. And that's what makes her a better person than me or you or even that girl you're still butt hurt about." Horohoro's head shot up. "You know, if you did that to Tamao, she wouldn't have followed you. If she thought that if ignoring her is what you wanted, she wouldn't have said anything because she cares about you that much. You still haven't learned from the last time, have you? What you did to Damuko is exactly what you're doing to Tamao."

Horohoro gripped the edge of the desk but remained quiet. "You know, you're acting like Tamao's not good enough to be Damuko's replacement. You wanted Tamao to replace her so bad, to be exactly what you lost ten years ago. But you got scared when she was turning out to be something different. You were scared because she wasn't the same, that she was different and too unfamiliar for you. And all because you can't let go of the past." Joco clenched his teeth. "That's it, isn't it? That's what happened. Come on, say something. Or did I get it so right, so on the nose that you have nothing to say?"

"Tamao is not just," Horohoro just snapped right about here, "A REPLACEMENT FOR DAMUKO. SHE'S THE ONLY GIRL I EVER LOVED…until…until…un-" Horohoro slammed his fists onto the desk, his entire frame hunched over, shaking. "Until Tamao…" he finished off in a hoarse whisper. His fists unclenched and his hands lamely fell to his sides as he took a few deep breaths.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. "Thank you. I needed that."

Joco sat down on the floor next to him. They sat in silence for a minute like they always did after these cathartic, proverbial slaps in the face. Joco and Horohoro had realized ever since they had met each other that getting a message through the skull of the other was no easy feat—they other usually had to have a huge preachy shouting session to wake the other one up. "Of course."

"I probably would've screwed everything—"

The door swung open. Tamao stepped in, tears racing down her face with an expression that looked pained beyond belief.

"T-Tamao," Horohoro's brain had shut down. This cannot be happening. He couldn't handle anything, much more this, right now. "How much did you—"

"Enough." Joco took this as his cue to leave and only when the door slammed shut did Tamao lift her eyes from the ground. "D-Did you really mean that…"

Horohoro's face reddened. Crap, I didn't want her to find out like this.

"I'm just a replacement for…her." I knew he could never love me back.

Wait, wha-? "Huh?"

"I heard you through the—"she hiccupped, referring to the thick, metal and wood door that she had been standing behind during Joco's lecture.

"What exactly did you hear?" he asked his question again slowly, trying to ignore what he had begun to suspect.

"T-That I'm just a…replacement for her and…she…was the only…girl you ever…loved," Tamao managed to say, amid her sobs as her small frame began to tremble.

"Tamao," he whispered. "I would never ever say that."

She looked up, her eyes still misty. "But you did…"

He smiled sadly, entirely exhausted. "I said that you're not just a replacement for Damuko. And that I'd never loved anyone besides her until…" His voice trailed off.

"Until…?" Tamao furiously wiped at her eyes, begging herself to not get her hopes up too high. Oh, please, please, for once let me get what I want…

He bowed his head, too ashamed to meet her gaze. "Erm…untilImetyouatthebeginningofschool." He coughed.

Her entire face lit up until it was brighter than San Francisco on 4/20. "R-R-Really…?!" she squeaked, unable to hide her sheer happiness.

"Um, yeah," he said self-consciously, scratching at the back of his head. "It wasn't obvious?" He finally looked at her and grinned sheepishly. "Haha, wow, I probably made everything awkward. I mean, it's not like you'd ever like me in a million years anyways so I get it if you don't want to hang out with me any--"

His sentence was cut short by one pink haired girl suddenly hugging him out of relief and joy and excitement and every other feeling she had been deprived of for the last couple of months. "No! No of course not." Her eyes flew open and she released him and backed away a little out of embarrassment. "O-Oh, sorry about that. Well, um, what I mean to say is, that maybe, I really…like…you…too…" Her voice got increasingly smaller until it was nearly inaudible as she started to blush very deeply. She brought her hands to her face as she attempted to hide it.

He gently smiled. "Well, then, that works out perfectly, doesn't it?" And then he pulled her into a hug.

She beamed up at him. "Yes, yes, it does!"

A/N: by far my favorite chapter to write (aka, the chapter where shit happens) things are getting interesting =] so i was rereading the first chapter of this story, and oh boyyyy was it bad. the first chapter is the only one i've retained from two years ago...and thus my writing style is MUCH different. i hope my writing's gotten better since i was a SOPHOMORE haha =) so anyways, my next writing project will be to rewrite the first chapter so that it's more consistent. Reviews would be niceeeee