(A/N): Thank you for the review, Mandy I Am, and thank you for following along, evilien! I appreciate the support. :3

This is the end of the first arc! Onwards to high school drama and teenage shenanigans!

Chapter 5 - Relief

"I always felt that the great high privilege, relief and comfort of friendship was that one had to explain nothing."

~ Katherine Mansfield

His internal alarm clock wakes him up at five o'clock in the morning. Or it should have been five, but Baralai can't tell in the darkness. It startles him to wake up to the sight of a girl sleeping in his arms, until it all comes back to him: Yuna slept over to wait out the storm. In the still quiet, he can hear his own breathing, which means the storm must have passed in the wee hours of the morning. Disentangling himself from her curled body, Baralai yawns. Sleeping on the floor doesn't feel as bad as he thought it would. Sleeping in close proximity with another, however, felt a little strange.

Moving to get up and start the day, Baralai collapses back onto the floor when her arms tighten around his torso. Stunned, he rakes his hair out of his face. The beating of his heart increases tenfold, but lessens a little when he notices she still sleeps. "Oh, my heart, why art thou beat so fast...?"

Prying her grip from his shirt, he sits upright and sighs. The weekend has come and gone, and now he must get ready for school regardless of what his body says.

After going upstairs to brush his teeth and wash his face, Baralai puts on his sweats for his morning jog, snacking on an apple downstairs, before going outside. He enjoys breathing in the chilly air as he runs laps around the neighborhood, watching rainwater drip down from wet tree branches into rivulets, which stream down the sidewalk's edge into street gutters. Stripped leaves and torn twigs litter the front yards and rooftops of houses all around, and Baralai deems the damage done to be minimal, before pushing himself on the last lap to return home. Slowing his jog to a walk, Baralai enters his house and locks the door behind him. Before he can take a breather, he hears the sound of footsteps approach.

"You went out for a run? I was wondering where you were..."

Baralai takes a deep breath and looks up, hands on his hips, turning to face Yuna who stands by the entryway. He manages a smile, relieved to see she possesses the energy to return it. "I apologize. I did not want to wake you."

"I was worried."

"Hm? About what?"

"It surprised me when I didn't see you after I woke up. For a moment, I didn't know where I was, but then it all came flooding back to me."

"Oh." Unsure of what to make of this statement, Baralai sighs and stands straighter, dropping his arms. "I'm sorry if I startled you. Do you mind waiting for me as I go shower and change? I will try not to be long."

Baralai fails to stifle the gasp of surprise when he steps closer and sees her face. Yuna places a hand over the bruise, self-conscious. Unable to bear the shame, he looks away and busies himself with removing his sneakers. "...You might... want to put makeup on that. It will attract attention otherwise, and people will start to talk."

"I-I know. I have some foundation at my house. I'll be sure to sneak in without anyone noticing."

He nods, heart full of remorse and sorrow. Baralai doubts he will ever live this down.

Baralai shaves his face after taking a ten minute shower because he hates the scruff that grows in the morning, and smoothes a hand over his dark-skinned cheeks. He hums in satisfaction and washes his face, slipping on a pair of straight-cut trousers, and then a mint blue sleeveless sweater over the white polo shirt, before exiting the bathroom straight into his room. Yuna sits at the edge of his bed, watching him tack on some cologne in front of the vanity mirror. After combing his hair and fastening his wristwatch, Baralai takes a moment to admire his reflection.

Every morning after he wakes up and every night before he goes to sleep, he likes to see how the day has affected him. He does this every day, so he can count the things that he likes about himself, building his self-esteem. He likes the color of his almond-shaped eyes, a lovely shade of dark brown. He likes the feel of his short platinum blonde hair, and how it falls naturally back into place when he moves it. He likes the look of his long bangs, and how they frame his nice jawlines. He likes his small nose, his thin eyebrows, and his curly eyelashes, and a plethora of little things. Baralai values his face more than any other part of his physical appearance because it says so much about him. Despite the nasty teasing throughout high school, he takes pride in his looks, and he will not let anyone tell him otherwise.

"Okay. I'm ready. Do you have all of your things?"

Yuna nods, and moves to get up. "Yes. My backpack is downstairs."

"Is there anything we need to pick up from your house?"

"No... Not that I can think of. I keep my textbooks and notebooks in my locker unless I need them."

"We will have to stop by your house anyway. I want you to shower, and have a change of clothes, too."

"Oh, no, we don't have to. I mean, do we have time?"

"It's close to six fifteen, so yes."

"Um, okay."

Curious of her sudden discomfort, Baralai dismisses it for now and leaves his bedroom, sensing Yuna's footsteps following close behind. In the kitchen, he grabs a bottle of cold water from the refrigerator, and remembers something he neglected to do yesterday. "You know what, I almost forgot to prepare Grandmother's food. Give me a moment..."

Hauling a giant can of apple sauce from the high cabinet, he places it down on the countertop and opens it with an electric can opener. Yuna watches him, fascinated, as he pours the contents into a white bowl, depositing the rest into a plastic container. From the bottom cabinet, he pulls out a pot and lid, and fills it with filtered water, putting it to boil on the stove.

"Can you pass me a wooden board from that drawer there?"

"Oh, of course. Here."

"Thank you. Can you take out a big glass bowl for me? From where I'm pointing. Yes, there. Thank you. Also, can you pass me two sticks of butter and a box of feta cheese from the refrigerator, please? Feta cheese looks like those white blocks floating in the water. You will see it."

Yuna fetches the items, eager to assist, and places them on the counter one by one beside him. Baralai pulls out several pieces of fluffy-looking bread from a plastic bag and starts slicing them into bite-sized cubes, dumping them into the enormous glass bowl he pulled from the other bottom cabinet. He cuts up chunks of butter and drops them in there, too, and whips out a plate and fork to mash the feta cheese into crumbled morsels.

"That looks fun. Can I smash them, too?"

"Here. You can do it for me. Thank you. When you are done with that, dump them in the bowl with the bread and butter."

Baralai leaves Yuna to her own devices, pleased by her desire to help, and moves to pull out a whole box of strawberries from the fridge, inserting the fruit into a bowl of cold water. Once the water on the stove begins to boil, he leaves the strawberries to soak and proceeds to dump the bread, cheese, and butter into the pot. Within seconds the butter melts, and Baralai turns the heat down to the LOW setting.

"Thank you for all your help. Would you like some popara?"

Yuna steps closer, peering at the bubbling mass. "You mean what's on the stove?"

"Yes. I know you must be in a rush to see your mother, but... I would feel guilty if I didn't you offer you any breakfast."

"Does it taste good?"

"Of course. It may not look impressive, but it's actually quite delicious. It's a common Bulgarian meal that kids love to eat for breakfast. You can eat it hot or cold, on any time of the day."

"I'll give it a try, but are you sure? You made this for your grandmother, right?"

"I can always make more. It's easy to prepare." Baralai switches off the stove and wipes his hands on a dish cloth, moving to grab two plates for themselves. When he turns to hand her one, he finds Yuna staring at him in a way Baralai will come to associate as daydreaming.

"What is it?"

"Oh! Nothing," she says, taking the plate, "Do you do this everyday?"

"Yes. I am responsible for all of Grandmother's dietary needs. Oh, must make sure to leave out her vitamins... There. Okay. I'm done. Let me dish you up some popara..."

"Thanks. You're very organized in the morning."

"Of course." They both sit at the dining table once their bowls are full, taking a moment to enjoy the meal. "I have to rely on myself in order for anything to get done around here."

"Don't your parents live here, though?"

"No. They live out-of-state. It's just Grandmother and I here."

"Are you not close with your parents?"

"No, not really," he says, pausing to chew and swallow, and he wonders why does she look at him with such sorrow in her eyes. "Apart from the weekly allowance they send me, I won't hear from them for days at a time unless I need something."

"Do you ever call them just to chat?"

"No. They are always too busy to chat, and even then, they are not at all that interesting to talk to. Besides, all they seem to care about is how Grandmother is doing." He stirs the sopping wet bread with his spoon, solemn. These are truths he has come to accept as fact, a part of his daily life; not until does he say it out loud do the words sound so sad. It embarrasses him to confide in someone when not even his best friends are privy to his private affairs. Something about Yuna, though, makes him want to talk, and he enjoys every single conversation they have ever shared.

This time Yuna says nothing more, and Baralai appreciates the silence.

Baralai expected Yuna to bolt the moment he parked in front of the hospital, but her level of restraint surprises him. Does his presence ease her nerves, or cause her to keep up appearances? He settles on the former when they cross the parking lot and she clasps the hem of his sweater.

They meet Yuna's father in the foyer, and Baralai stands in place as she rushes forward to hug him. Witnessing this intimate reunion between a father and daughter, it makes him feel like an intruder. He wants to step in and introduce himself, but doesn't know how without breaking them apart. Her father pulls away from the embrace first and turns to face him. The smile on his face encourages him to walk forward and reach out his hand.

"Hello, Mr. Alexander. I'm Baralai, Yuna's friend. We talked on the phone yesterday."

He takes his hand and shakes it. "I remember. You can call me Braska. Thank you for looking after her. It put my mind at ease to know she was safe and sound. Unless I'm wrong?"

"He did not hurt me, Dad. He was really nice." Yuna smiles, concealing the truth behind the makeup on her face. Baralai looks away, and hopes Braska does not see the guilt written all over his face.

"That's good to hear. I was planning to head over and drive Yuna to school, but she told me you have a car."

"Yes. I was going to take her after we saw her mother."

"I'd appreciate that. I was actually on my way to work." A quiet moment passes where Braska turns to lay eyes on his daughter, and lifts a hand to stroke her cheek. Something twists the proverbial jackknife in his heart, and Baralai tries to breathe through the unpleasant emotion in his throat. "I will see you at home."

"Okay. Goodbye, Dad."

Goodbye. Baralai's heart throbs, unsettled by that word and everything it entails. In this day and age, people take their lives and the lives of others for granted, never knowing when they will see their loved ones again. Never has this fact resonated more than last night, and as he watches Yuna and Braska embrace once more, his mouth forms words from the memory – a memory born from a happier time.

"...but not goodbye."

"Did you say something?" Braska says, curious.

"Oh, sorry, I–." Baralai pauses for a moment, thoughtful, and then his laugh breaks the silence. "'Farewell, but not goodbye.' I was just thinking how appropriate it sounded."

Yuna smiles a little, touched, and wipes the tear from her eye.

Once they have said their farewells to Mr. Alexander, Yuna and Baralai continue onwards. Yuna throws the door open once she reaches the room, and dashes inside. Baralai follows, watching her collapse by the comatose woman's side. Clutching onto her limp hand, and touching the bandages and wounds on her mother's face, Yuna pays attention to nothing else. Uncertainty weighs on his feet, and Baralai lingers by the doorway. He feels that sensation again, witnessing a tender moment not meant for his eyes, and steps back out, closing the door behind him. Baralai walks down the hallway, lost in thought.

'Now that I stop to think about it, I never allowed Yuna the time alone to grieve.' She had been too unpredictable to leave alone and, as much as he wanted to be there for her, his constant hovering must make her feel suffocated. If he were in her place, he would feel suffocated, but he can't presume to know how she feels. Returning to the foyer, he sits down at a bench, crosses his legs, and sighs.

This agony and helplessness he feels, it paralyzes him. Never has he wanted to reach out to another human being like he does now, not even his ex-girlfriend or Grandmother, because he doesn't feel obligated to support Yuna. He wants to be there for her, and be involved in her life even though he doesn't have to.

'But then again, I'm not as close to her as I would like. There are others, like Rikku, Paine, her friends, and her family, who would know what to say or do to make her feel better. Someone else Yuna would much rather lean on. I'm not the most empathic person, or quite the most sensitive one. I don't like saying pretty empty words, because what good are lies in the face of loss? What can I do for her?'

Baralai sits there for what seems like a long time, staring off into space. He looks up when he senses her standing nearby, and suppresses the urge to frown when he sees how hard she strives to hide the heartbreak.

"There you are. I was wondering... where you went..." Her hand flies to her mouth after she chokes up, spooking him with the sudden flood of tears. "When I-I opened my eyes... you were gone...!" It occurs to him why the words sound so familiar. Yuna said the exact same thing earlier this morning, and only now does the reason dawn on him. Waking up alone scared her, sitting alone in a room with an unconscious woman scared her, the thought of losing him scared her. The truth scares him, but the loneliness and abandonment she must feel frightens him even more, and he blames himself for letting her ever feel that way.

Baralai stands up at once, and does not back away when she staggers to lean on him.

"The doctor said... she won't wake up for a long time..."

At a loss for words, he holds her close and lets the silence envelop them.