30


When Law came home from school that day, he immediately tended to Rosinante. The man seemed further away from him, barely responding to any stimuli in front of him. It seemed as if the new medication had left behind only a stranger that Law didn't feel comfortable with. Rosinante said nothing as Law prompted him to his feet, Sugar's excited barking from the yard reminding them that she shouldn't be forgotten. Guiding him into his wheelchair, Law waited for the man to settle into it then wheeled him into the bathroom. Half hour later, he settled him at the kitchen table and started making dinner. It took him awhile to say anything; last night's dinner scene had made him feel anxious.

He was going to do it – he was going to leave Rosinante for his parents; for two people that essentially knew nothing about him now; for two people that may or might not keep him after they learned what sort of person he truly was. He might be quiet but he had turmoil swirling inside of him, muddling his thoughts. What if he couldn't abide by their rules and what if they started expecting things from him, things he couldn't do? They wanted to pay for speech therapy, for psychotherapy, and was he ready to revisit things he'd glossed over just to get through to the next day?

What kind of person would he be a year from now?

He felt Rosinante's hand on his and looked over at the man. He realized he had been the midst of lighting a cigarette for him, but the ember had burned down to the filter. He quickly put that out and relit another one, struggling to think clearly.

"How did it go to school?" Rosinante asked him gruffly, his speech noticeably affected.

"It was good," Law answered. "Easy day. We played touch football in PE, today. It was pretty great. Everyone had a good time."

Rosinante blinked hard a couple of times, shoulders hunched as he clasped his own hands together. For a few minutes, Law wondered if he'd retreated back into his mind so he set the cigarette into the ashtray to burn. He made to get up to tend to the frying potatoes in the pan when Rosinante grabbed him again, causing him to sit.

"That's not what I asked," Rosinante said slowly. Law snatched up a few napkins and gently cleaned the spittle from his lip and chin. "Will they take you back?"

Crumbling the napkins in hand, Law hesitated to answer. It was a struggle to say anything when he was leaving this man behind for something better for himself. All the remorse and guilt he could ever feel built up in the pit of his chest and expanded outward. Rosinante looked at him, brow furrowed slightly as he took in Law's expression. Troubled, the man patted his hand clumsily.

"It'll be fine, it'll be fine," he reassured him before erupting into a slight coughing fit. Once he was settled, he said, "This was is wanted. Right?"

Law couldn't answer, silently cleaning around his mouth once more.

"Before the house out at eighteen," Rosinante said sternly, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. "That's what I wanted."

It was a struggle because of the lump he felt in his throat, but Law asked, "Who's going to take care of you when I'm gone?"

"Be silly," Rosinante scoffed, reaching up to the table with shaking hands to brush at the pepper flakes there. Hitting them with the palm of his hand to get rid of the bugs. "I do."

"I might come back," Law made to assure him but Rosinante snapped, "You won't! Not here. You're not allowed back here! You understand? Not here. You've done your time, you leave from here and start again! You're not welcome back here."

Law used the crumbled napkins to ball into a tight wad before he set it aside. He left the chair to tend to the potatoes as Rosinante continued to grumble at the table, hitting at what he thought were moving bugs across the table top. As he used a spatula to turn over the potatoes, he heard Rosinante say loudly, "My brother will do so. Like always. So you're not needed here. Thank you for services."

Law wondered if the man was truly vehement in that he wasn't welcome back, or if this was his gruff way of reassuring him. He knew in his heart that Rosinante wanted the best for him; despite it, Law couldn't help but fret over the man possibly needing him. He was sure Doflamingo would be fine looking after his own brother but…

It wasn't forever, he told himself. When his parents decided they had enough or he had enough of their tries, then he'd be back.

When Doflamingo came home later that evening, he had a tired air about him. He pulled off his belt and keys and tossed them onto the table in the hall, making his way into the kitchen with a grumble about needing beer. Law had left behind some leftovers in a tinfoil covered plate, but it was unappetizing and cold. He threw that plate into the trash, fiercely annoyed about being fed 'leftovers' when he needed a hot meal. Something more fitting as the breadwinner of the family and not as the dog. He belatedly thought about Sugar, and grumbled as he dug out the contents of the plate, taking it outside to toss onto the lawn so she could sniff it out and get some exercise while she ate.

Once back inside, he tossed the plate into the sink and looked into the fridge. One thing he was sure about Law leaving them was that there would be more food left behind than there was, now. He swore the teen was eating everything Doflamingo bought; but at the same time, Law's appearance told him otherwise. Restaurant visits showed him a teen too stressed to eat, and Doflamingo had to tell himself to stop blaming the kid for every little problem that crossed his path. It was easy to put the blame on him, though. Law either took it or dished it back, depending on his mood, and Doflamingo needed that in order to remind himself of where they were, today.

It was hard to see straight, sometimes. With all of the stress piled up on his shoulders, Rosinante's disintegrating condition, the state taking away his foster care privileges, he was having a hard time holding his head above the water. He couldn't take his anger out any other way but Law made it convenient for him to snap. He found the pair in Rosinante's room, his brother being propped up in his bed while Law read some passages out of one of his favorite books to him. Rosinante looked as if he weren't even mentally present – it hurt Doflamingo to see those near lifeless red eyes staring off at something that wasn't even there, and it hurt him that he'd never have his younger brother back in a condition that was whole. His illness was worsening, the drugs stalling progression, but it was clear to him that his brother wouldn't return to him.

Law looked at him cautiously, recognizing the festering anger building up in the man as he lowered the book.

"Well?" Doflamingo asked, leaning against the doorframe. "What of it? They want you?"

"Yeah," Law answered tightly, folding the page's corner neatly in place to save it.

"Don't get comfortable," Doflamingo muttered. "Parents are finicky creatures. If you aren't up to standard, they have other options. Like animals from the local shelter."

"I know."

"You're nearly of age to make your own decisions, anyway," Doflamingo stated. "They won't have you for very long. People want kids, not useless rejects."

"People want rejects – look at me, comfortable in your home."

Doflamingo ground his teeth for a bit. This was his own fault – he was quite aware that he was unnecessarily taking his frustration out on the teen by goading him, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. When Law was gone, the house would be still; he would have to remain with Rosinante alone, but what source of comfort was he when he was always absent? Maybe Doflamingo resented Law leaving but at the same time…

"For the check," he reminded him tightly.

"Right, right, that check goes pretty far here. Mostly for booze and restaurants," Law said bitterly.

Doflamingo mocked his speech, causing him to fiddle with the book with flustered fingers, feeling annoyed at the man's presence. "I fucking earned it! I have a right to purchase these things! If you were more useful, you could help out, too!"

"Go pass out," Law then told him firmly, scowling.

Glowering at him, Doflamingo said, "I haven't had a spot of alcohol, yet. There's nothing in the fridge! No dinner, no food – I get tired of sleeping on an empty stomach, don't you?"

"Obviously."

"Your parents will send you right back with that smart mouth. They're not going to want to deal with that damn impediment of yours. At eighteen, shouldn't you have control over it, yet? Doesn't it make you feel self-conscious, Law?" Doflamingo asked. "Speaking up in front of your peers this way, knowing they only ridicule you behind your back? How do you know you're not an internet sensation, yet? One of those…memes…"

"It's 'memes', you idiot."

Growling, Doflamingo hit the wall then left the room. Hearing him stalk away to the kitchen, Law cautiously waited for a few moments, glancing at Rosinante to see if he were conscious of this exchange. It felt like Doflamingo was going to snap, soon, and Law didn't want to ruin any chances of his possible return by burning any bridges. Whatever the man had to say or do, he would just have to take it. But he heard the fridge rattle with force, and then the back door slam – he tried to relax with a slow exhale, opening the book once more with shaking fingers.

He started to read again when Rosinante touched his leg to catch his attention.

"He's only upset," he said slowly, with a tongue that moved too thickly to form words correctly. It was all he said, Law wiping his mouth with a crumbled napkin and watching him with worry.

The next day at school, he was sitting with Sanji on the back steps of the auditorium when Smoker appeared at the bottom with an annoyed look. Both of them immediately put out their cigarettes with perplexed expressions, driven by reflex to do so.

"Why aren't you two eating?" Smoker asked crossly, hands at his hips. "That's what teenagers do, right? Eat a small family out of house and home? At your age, I was clearing out the cabinets!"

"I've been told I'm at the threat of having girlish hips," Sanji told him dryly.

"It's sub-sandwich day," Law said with disgust.

"With that attitude, you might be," Smoker told Sanji. To Law he said, "And just eat the meat, give your bread to someone who wants to eat it. Just eat something! Do you realize the less you eat and not nourish your body, you lose brain cells? Which is probably what you two want, considering the choices you've both made, recently. Listen, the reason why I'm here today is because it's time for you to move."

Both teens sat rigidly, unsure if they heard right.

"But…I only decided last night," Law said, his shoulders stiff. "Isn't it a process? They haven't even moved to this area, yet. You can't take me out of school for this."

"It's funny how you mentioned being taken out of school for something like this, yet it was no problem not being on time at the start of the year," Smoker said, lighting up a cigarette, tossing the match aside. "Part of the unification process is a move right away – why dally? Everyone knows it was coming."

"I'm not ready. All my stuff – I haven't even packed. I have a test later on, I can't miss that," Law said, slightly panicked as Sanji gave him a worried look.

"Trust me, it's not going to take you long to pack. I even brought along some extras to help you out," Smoker said, pulling out a roll of black trashbags from his pocket. Law gave him a tired frown, Sanji glaring at the man.

"They're going to drive him to school, right? Each and every day? Pick him up? They're not going to just tell him he needs to jump on a bus and get dropped off to the closest drop off point, are they?" Sanji spit. "Or enroll him somewhere else for their convenience when this doesn't work out?"

"Calm down, killer, it's arranged. One of them will drop him off, another will pick him up. They took the day off to prepare for you. All that was needed was to complete the paperwork. Your room was already waiting for you long before they started this process."

Apprehensively, Law glared at him. He wasn't ready to do this – he needed to psyche himself up. Prepare all his options and practice what he needed to say and say his goodbyes to Rosinante. He felt like all the smoke he'd inhaled earlier had built up in his throat and caught there, and his legs refused to work.

"Well, let's go," Smoker said, flicking ashes to the side. A teacher called out to him, and he grumbled as he put the cigarette out upon command. "I'm eighty freaking years old, what does it look like? I have to follow these rules? This is bullshit."

"Why don't we do this afterschool?" Law asked, unmoving. "I have to go home to Rosinante. He needs to be taken care of."

"I already talked to the spider monkey about this this morning," Smoker said. "He's aware of it. He was making arrangements to have one of his friends take your place this afternoon. By the way, if you try and jump down from there to make a run for it towards that house, I have Hina and Tashigi parked in strategic places along the way to stop you. They're not afraid to tackle, either."

At the withering look he was given, Smoker glanced around before pulling another cigarette from his shirt pocket. He lit up as the bell rang noisily. Sanji looked to Law with concern, seeing the tendons flexing in his neck as he continued to sit there. He sat down beside him, whispering, "It's better this way. You can't overthink it. You just have to wing it."

With the thickness in his throat, Law couldn't say anything in response. He fiddled with the threadbare material over his knees, feeling panic edge up around his thoughts. Drifting into his bloodstream. Without Lamie there, it felt like a horrible place to be. It would be deathly silent without her happy voice ringing out, and his parents would be forcing themselves to be compliant and pleased, but everyone would be tense and stiff around each other.

On the other hand…he had agreed to this. He agreed to this because of the boy sitting next to him, his cast bumping into his arm as he fiddled unnecessarily with his own slacks, looking as panicked as Law felt. He looked to him, feeling all the emotions that Sanji was radiating for him. Not for himself – for him. Just as nervous and panicked as he, probably overthinking everything for him.

When Sanji realized he was looking at him, he turned his head to look back.

"The first step's always the hardest," Sanji reassured him on a low whisper, shuffling out of his bag to rip out a piece of paper from his notebook. He wrote hastily. "Besides, make them give you a phone. You can call me. Everyone else has their phones, call me tonight, after nine. We can talk."

It was a small freedom, an even smaller reassurance.

"A computer, even! We can chat online! Skype, or something," Sanji said, brightening up at the idea. He passed him the slip of paper he tore away from his notebook. "He hasn't taken that away from me. Make them do that, too. Every kid needs computer privileges. And don't be afraid to dig in that fridge. You don't owe them anything, you already gave them what they want."

"Hey, what's being conspired up there?" Smoker asked suspiciously, catching sight of them.

Law took the slip of paper. It didn't make him as nervous as the thought of finally living with his parents, again. He crumbled it into his hand, then slipped it into his pocket.

"It's another home, but you know what to expect," Sanji told him as he shouldered his bag again. He gave a cautious look at Smoker, then hugged Law's head with a quick gesture before rising and moving down the steps. Sneering at the man, he said, "I thought you said you were going on a diet?"

"Can it, walking stick bug."

"Those greys look like they're spilling down your nose," Sanji said, squinting up at him. "Maybe you should grow a mustache to hide it. That's probably why you're single."

"I'm single because I'm too awesome to buckle myself down to one person, brat. Get out of here before I turn you in for skipping classes," Smoker threatened him.

"If you come back to Baratie's, I can tell them to give you the senior menu, instead. Those dentures look dangerous."

Smoker made to kick him, but Sanji scurried off as the tardy bell rang. By the time he straightened, Law was making his way down the stairs with an apprehensive look.

"You're not going to the executioner's," Smoker told him. "They're your parents. Like I said, Hina and Tashigi will meet us at Donquixote's house, and you can get your stuff. You can say goodbye to Rosinante privately."

Because he had nothing to say, Law just nodded.

At the house, while Hina and Tashigi made small talk with Jora, Law went to the room he shared with Rosinante and threw his things into one of the black trash bags Smoker had brought. It was annoying how right the man was – all of it fit in one bag. The rest fit into his backpack, and he stood there for awhile, taking everything in. He folded up his sleeping bag and set that aside, tucking the notes from Sanji into his trashbag. He felt restless as he looked over Rosinante's bed, over the pictures on the wall from a past life, of the closet that held the man's treasured wardrobe but were things he never wore again as his mind started drifting away. Walking to it, he flipped through the hangers, looking at all his oddly printed shirts, his jackets, the hats that were never worn. On impulse, he pulled a jacket and some shirts from the hangers and stuffed it all into his trashbag with a wary look at the doorway. Twisting the tie on tightly, he then grabbed his backpack and left the room.

Smoker took his things and left to take them outside, muttering about the kitchen's state of affairs. Law walked over to Rosinante, the man sitting in a listless position on one of the easy chairs. Jora and the other two ladies gave them some privacy as he crouched down next to him, touching his hand to catch his attention. But the man's eyes were on something far away, and Law wondered if he would even hear him.

"I'm leaving," he said low, grasping onto his arm with both hands. All the words that should have left him remained trapped in his throat as anxiety starting to strum through him once more. He bent forward to rest his forehead against Rosinante's arm, smelling the comforting scents of the man and traces of his last cigarette. He wished he was more attentive, this morning. He should have known that Smoker would do this – he should've, would've, could've.

But he told himself he would be back. It was inevitable.

He straightened up and hugged the man gently, Rosinante unresponsive to the gesture. Law wished he would do something; throw a fit, curse at him, say something about Spongebob, about Sugar. But nothing left the man's mouth. He wondered if Rosinante would even remember he was leaving. With a sense of heavy sadness, he straightened up from him, fixed his collar, then left the living room. After the front door closed behind him, Rosinante smiled faintly.

The ride across town made Law realize just how small of a town it was. It was just outside the distance to Grandline, so there wouldn't be too much of a problem getting to school. On the way there, Smoker reached back behind his seat and pulled out the bag that Lorenzo had given him weeks earlier. Law still didn't want to take it. He stuffed it into the trash bag without a word, Smoker giving him a look.

At a stoplight, he said, "Don't get comfortable in this house – they'd already secured another closer to your school. You've got to finish school, make it as far as you can after that. You've got parents who love you, who want to support you. Take advantage of it, kid. Not many kids have the opportunity like you do."

"Will all these stupid motivational speeches stop then?"

"No. I'll drop by from time to time to check on ya. Not as a worker," Smoker added. "But as a friend."

Law snorted at that, but he fiddled with the trashbag apprehensively. At the back of his mind, he wouldn't mind those visits at all.

"What plans do you have for your birthday?" Smoker then asked.

"Getting wasted for the first time. Soak it up with edibles from the local dispensary. Get bitches pregnant."

Smoker laughed. "HAH. You have a sense of humor, that's great!"

"It's not a big deal," Law muttered. "It's just another year."

"A complaint came into our office about your friend," Smoker said slowly, turning on his blinker before making a proper stop at a turn signal. "What's his deal?"

"It doesn't matter. He's moving in with his mom."

Smoker was glad to hear that. But it made him feel bad that one of the sure tethers Law had found strong enough to hold onto was going to be clipped too soon. In the short time that these two kids had known each other, Smoker knew more about Law than he ever did in the years he worked with him. With the way the other kid clung to him, Smoker was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. At the same time, having a kid removed from a potentially dangerous situation was always a plus in his book.

"Always knew there was something fishy about that group," he muttered.

When they pulled up to the house, Law drew in a shallow breath and exhaled shakily. The house was nice, with a yard that wasn't as kept as it should have been – just flowerboxes here and there where Lainy worked, and the obvious signs of a dog that lived there. His parents were waiting on the small porch, looking nervous as they drew away from each other, as if they had been in the middle of a pep talk. A large dog wagged his tail cautiously as he walked up to the edge of the stairs to watch Smoker's car pull up to the curb. At that moment, Law wished he had remembered to hug Sugar and tell her 'goodbye', too, wondering if she would miss him. He felt guilty for not thinking of her as he'd left.

"Sorry for the short notice," Lorenzo said as they climbed out of the vehicle. He rubbed his hands anxiously, Lainy holding onto the dog's collar with one hand. "I thought it would be easier if you could come here and figure out what you'd need so tomorrow would be a little easier."

Law wondered if it would get any easier. He didn't know what to say to the man, hiking his backpack over one shoulder and grabbing his trashbag from the back seat. He approached slowly as Smoker said something to them that he tuned out. The dog was a golden retriever mix, and he wagged his tail anxiously as Law walked up to him. He crouched to let the animal sniff him first, and the dog approached him with a friendlier air, taking in his scent with a wagging tail.

"I'm missing school," he said petulantly, rising to stand. "I had a test."

"They'll allow him to remake it," Smoker assured them, and Law felt too irritated to say anything else.

"This is only temporary," Lainy said as she indicated the yard. "I suppose you don't have to get used to it…the other house is closer to the school. It's a bit smaller than this one, but…we're ready to move. We started packing once we had the confirmation."

The dog nosed his hand, so Law petted him atop of the head as Lorenzo lead the way up the porch and into the house. Trashbag rustling noisily at his side, Law followed reluctantly, Smoker trailing behind him, yelping as the dog barked at him with warning. Lainy hurriedly grabbed his collar to control him, leading him with her into the house as Smoker pressed a hand to his heart.

The house was near immaculate – clean, modern, with an empty feeling. Law felt like he was looking at a model, finding it a clear difference from the cluttered mess he was used to at Doflamingo's. The rug was cream and bent gently under his weight, the dog leaving Lainy's side to run to its bed between two couches that faced each other. The cat was watching them from the kitchen counter, a fluffy, three-legged Persian with narrowed eyes.

Lainy said something about the clutter, but Law approached the cat without acknowledging her. The cat hissed at him, tail moving sharply in warning so Law figured he'd work on her approval later.

"Where do I put my stuff?" he asked interrupting Lainy in mid-explanation about the cat's name.

"Let's work on our attitude," Smoker told him gruffly. "You're going to be living here."

Law shrugged a shoulder as Lorenzo cautiously led the way towards a narrow hall nearby. "It's not the first," he muttered, Lainy fiddling with her fingers with a show of apprehension.

The room for him was located at the end of the hall, near a guest bathroom. It was nearly the size of Doflamingo's living room – with a queen sized bed, a large closet, a desk and empty bookshelf nearby. The view overlooked the backyard, with other houses visible just beyond that. It felt like he'd just walked into another house of its own. He reminded himself not to get used to it.

"This is only temporary," Lainy repeated nervously. "When we move, you can pick your room from there. We can buy whatever it is you need once you get comfortable. Clothes, books, something fun? Like…maybe a game console? A television? Your father loves his cable."

"Both of us, actually," Lorenzo said hastily. "That's what we like to do, relax in front of the television some nights."

"It's important that you can allow yourself to relax here," Lainy said. "Find things to do, find a show, maybe – if you're interested in gardening, we can work on the flowerboxes! Take some time to yourself, too."

It struck Law that for the first time in a long time he wasn't going to be busy. He wasn't going to be at the side of a man that needed total manipulation and assistance from room to room. When he came home in the afternoons, he wouldn't have to clean after Rosinante, cook for him, visit with him. The idea of being alone in the place without anything to do was overwhelming, and his jaw clenched tightly. His expression was hidden from the others as he frantically tried to reset himself. He dropped his bag at the foot of the bed as Lainy inspected the closet for the millionth time and Lorenzo sputtered aimlessly about finding activities to do in the evening.

Smoker stood next to Law, saying quietly, "It's gonna feel weird right now, but let it go. That man wanted you out of that house for your own good, and I know you know that. It's time to be a kid, Law. It's time you learn to be a kid."

Swallowing tightly, Law wanted to snap at him for even thinking he could be one again. But all his feelings were trapped in his throat. He shoved his hands into his pockets and felt the crumbled piece of paper there – Sanji's phone number. His fingers clenched around the paper, as if seeking strength from it. Admittedly, he felt better.

Smoker patted him on the shoulder, turning away from him. "This is all he has. You got room for it?"

Lorenzo looked at the black trashbag with dismay, Lainy puzzled as she closed the closet doors just to open them again.

"I'll unpack later," Law muttered.

That night, he waited for the clock over the kitchen sink to change hands, the slip of paper in his hand sweaty and twisted. In the living room, Lorenzo was snoring loudly on the couch while some housewives accused each other of various things, and Lainy was looking over her Sudoku puzzles with a concerned expression. Their dog, Panda, was twisted onto his back with his paws folded over him while the cat, Polar, was still glaring at Law from the kitchen table. He reached out to touch her when she hissed at him, tail whipping around in agitation.

The only landline was located in the kitchen – with cellphones, such phones were mostly obsolete. Its other major flaw was the overly long cord that prevented him from taking the phone anywhere for privacy. When he thought it was appropriate, he dialed the number clumsily, sneaking a peek at his mother, who was using white out to fix an answer.

There was a scuffle of sound at the other end, and Sanji's breathless answer as someone shouted in pain. A loud slam caused another scream, and Law had to pull the phone away to rub at his ear.

"Sorry, Law, sorry! I just got home - GIVE ME A GODDAMN MINUTE! FUCK OFF! Okay, I'm back. Are you settled in?" Sanji asked, strangely breathless as someone roared with displeasure in the background.

Law started to answer when Sanji shouted again, "YOU TOOK MY PHONE AWAY! SO WHAT IF I GET A GODDAMN PHONE CALL? Nevermind about that, Law, are you in?"

"I am."

"Are you okay?"

"Not really," Law mumbled, glancing at his mother again and wondering if she could hear their conversation clearly with how loudly Sanji was talking.

"I'm glad you did it! I can't imagine what you're going through right now – do you have a computer? It'd be easier if we chatted on line because – "

Heavy breathing at the other end caused Sanji to sputter in outrage. A high falsetto asked if this line were busy, so Sanji said quickly, "I'll see you at school tomorrow!"

"DAD! SANJI'S TALKING TO HIS BOYFRIEND!" Niji screamed, losing the falsetto.

Law quickly hung up. As chaotic as that phone call had been, he felt better. It reminded him of what he was doing here in his parents' home. He glanced at his mother again, her brow still furrowed as she printed in neater numbers, whiteout still in hand. The cat hissed at him again, settling down onto the tabletop with its paws neatly folded underneath him. He looked at the cat, vaguely amused by its angry face. He wondered what happened to its missing leg, then rose up from the counter.

"Are you going to bed?" Lainy asked, as if startled to see him there. She lowered her glasses from her face as he walked by with a grunt. She frowned a little, trying not to feel down about the lack of progress with him so far. She heard him walk into his room and close the door behind him – the vague, quiet sound of the lock moving into place troubling her.

She hoped things would get better. She supposed time would make it easier.


RR: Yep, finally! It's a little tough, though – I have so many LawSan versions it's switching gear into the correct versions that has me tripping here and there. Thanks for the suggestion with my laptop, but it's alright; my work computer has come in handy, haha! Ichiji has plans, and none of them are good – he's very intent on keeping the family name untarnished by silly things like teen romance. As for the homework scene, he was pretty rattled by his own impulse and needed something to calm himself – he's such an alien. These two have come a long way since the first chapter! It's crazy! There will be bumps until the last chapter because these things are never perfect, even if perfection is in reach – but it'll be interesting to see whether or not their teenage romance can survive the obstacles that is life.

Guesty: Yay! I made someone happy! :D I can call it a 'day', then.

Naghi-Tan: haha! Yonji's interests are food, girls, sports and food. He's always eating! If he can find a girl that eats as much as him, I'm sure he'll be in heaven. :D Thank you for your review, and hope you're doing well since the last we spoke!

Penumbra: It was embedded in ice that is a broken laptop - I had these chapters near finished already, but I'm rewriting what I can remember of them. Hoping for the ending I wanted as a result! I'm happy you enjoy the VS siblings chaos – they're fun to write when they're in this state, not when they're being awful. They are very spoiled – sickeningly spoiled. Ichiji won't understand the connection LawSan have with each other, so because of that, he's going to destroy it in his family's name. D:

Fireofshandora: Niji doesn't get much love because he's the jerkiest of them all. I can clearly see him as I write him, and…I like that evilness of his. XD Yonji's their laugh soundtrack to their shenanigans – it's important for these brothers to have a certain role to live their best life!