DISCLAIMER: I claim no rights to K-on!

WARNING: Rated T for safety though I doubt there will be little to no explicit content.

Old Memories

Sweat dripped down, making a silent exit as she flicked it out from her forehead. She was on the very peak of her intense concentration, battling the rattling and jarring noises she created from relentlessly dropping a handful of steels that were utilized to serve as an immediate medium for creating a decent set of confections contrary to her previous abominable failed attempts of questionable content.

She slumped back on a thin space, near the glass window, to rest her already tired knees. Heaving a huge sigh of the century while staring blankly on space, she underwent a rigorous amount of effort in contemplating the dreaded idea of what transpired her to make something she didn't even imagined doing before. It was just in a spur, actually, that she relented to the idea agreed by the majority, in her mind, of course. She didn't think twice of consulting anyone because this was confidential, she nodded silently in agreement. Nobody should catch a wind out of this, not even her friends, she promised.

She made a little bit of research but failed miserably, it felt like she wasn't cut to do this in the very first place. Regrets always come in the end, she pressed her palms altogether to reduce her rising level of anxiety. Had she called her friends, she considered, this would be done in bliss yet she chose the hardest path and drove her to suffer in her own obstinacy.

Rumors weren't something she takes pleasure of being part of. In fact, a little bit of talking with the random guys spells trouble and laughable exaggeration. Tons of questions, exceeding her daily mailed love letters, from the people will pile up in insurmountable quantity and she's obligated to make a closure out from this matter to halt these senseless questions that never had the slightest relevance at all. Denial was never an option, in her case, because this has a negative effect and concocted fallacies will, therefore, ensue.

Baking a chocolate cake is, definitely, an act she should not engage.

'Why am I doing this?' her slender fingertips came into contact with her furrowed eyebrows as she pondered on her action. She felt totally stupid, wasting her precious time over something that would yield no benefits in her part.

Mio cursed the idea she perpetrated and repeatedly injured the figure, in her mind, she blamed responsible for the sleepless nights she had while browsing over numerous websites about the best present to give in the day of hearts. She came across the usual proposals: homemade chocolates, cakes, cookies and other pastries that would please the human palate.

Scrolling down for more, she clicked some dubious random pages to reconsider another opinion.

And the most hideous suggestion the sixteen-year old encountered that made her spewed brewed coffee, out from her pinkish lips, and tainted the screen was… sex.

Owner of grey eyes slapped her self continuously, in the middle of the dead night, as naughty thoughts have yet to infiltrate her innocent mind.

'Definitely not with her!' Mio rejected the concept of lusting over her new best friend. She downed her stimulant drink in one gulp because of the horror of getting intimate with…

Forget it!

She sighed again, for the umpteenth time, before giving this silly idea a rest. Lifting the tray carefully; she stared, for one last time, at her another failed Valentine's present. She took the crutch she placed beneath the emerald-tiled counter before squeezing the staff beside her body, creating a sensation of cold metal dispersing onto her ever soft porcelain skin.

"Who's the luckiest man alive to win your heart, my dear? " Mio quickly darted her gaze towards the doorway and found a pair of gleaming steel orbs peering onto the grey strands hanging idly on her creasing forehead.

"Obaachan?" the younger lady was surprised to see the woman leaning her back against the wall, her thin arms across her evidently sagging chest, while sporting a cunning smile that reminded the former about the amber-orbed. "W-welcome home… since when did you get here?"

The grandmother only gave the raven-haired girl a half smile. Her red kimono, adorned with prints of sunflowers of varying sizes, was perfectly trimmed just barely above her ankles, allowing her to walk without getting concerned of stepping into the fabric.

Grey locks were swaying gracefully when she moved her head in a perfect rhythm to match her silent footsteps - quite befitting for a woman who has mastered the art of elegance for years. All her movements never looked so stiff as if grace became one with her body. She left the longer strands dangling beside her face and tied the rest of her hair into a single thick bun held by two scarlet chopsticks. A thick yellow textile, serving as her buckle, encircled around her small waist, revealing a slender figure despite her age.

"I have been observing you since you started taking out the ingredients from the cupboard" she walked with dignity towards the younger version of herself. Her footsteps never made a single creak when she treaded on the aging wood floors, "a few hours, maybe?"

"I prepared a little. Do you want something to eat?" The young girl asked and settled down the tray back to its original place with utmost gentle movement of her slender fingertips as she parted the pads from the borders of the cold quadrilateral-shaped metal and lifted her palms midair.

"No, dear. Thank you for the thought but I'm quite full already." She paused briefly and observed the cake made by her lovely granddaughter. Her wrinkled index finger dove onto the mound full of chocolate icing before bringing it close to her lips and licked it artfully. It was too late for Mio to utter a protest.

"Not bad" she smiled at Mio who was expecting a harsher remark from her grandmother who was also known for her profound skills and knowledge in cooking. "Something's lacking and everything else would be perfect."

"Did I miss an ingredient or something?" The shy raven-haired inquired and she only received a stern nod from the old woman.

….

"Do you have someone you like?"

Round black pupils dilated in response to the unexpected query by the old lady who was still relishing the taste of Mio's home baking albeit she tried to remain calm despite the growing uneasiness.

"Eh?" was Mio's initial reaction then came an endless stuttering before making herself coherent to respond appropriately to the question. "This…" she bit her lower lip unexpectedly though she never intended to lie against her only relative, "this is for my friend."

"Boyfriend?" Signs of aging were definitely manifested by the grey-haired. She heard it totally wrong.

"N-no!" Mio attempted to restrain herself from raising her voice but she was caught off guard with the term used to refer to the recipient of her baking.

"It was for…"

Ritsu! Why couldn't I say her name with ease at all? Am I really… No. Stop thinking nonsense, Mio.

"For?" she reiterated while arching her slightly depleted eyebrow, eager enough to hear the name of this fortunate human being ever to exist in this universe to have Sakuragaoka's idol do something so rarest in her entire life.

"It was for my best friend, really." Long strands, tinged like it was doused in ebony, swayed slowly towards her west as she averted her gaze for a while when she mentioned the root of all this absurdity.

Glancing over the window, Mio's grandmother caught a silhouette of two birds roosting over the high walls of their ancestral house. Subtly reminiscing the times she spent when her late husband was still alive, her stormy eyes reflected a border between happiness and sorrow. Recalling these moments she was once very familiar was directly synonymous to the sugary feeling of consuming enormous amounts of sweets even in just a fraction of second thus earning her a smile she used to wear outside the scope of the prying media.

The kitchen, greatly inspired by classic European architecture, had recaptured its usual silence that was lost temporarily during the raven-haired girl's conquest of making a cake for the foolhardy eighteen-year old lady. There was just silence lurching between the owners of eyes genetically engineered to manifest the color of a roaring tempest.

Twenty minutes. No one even attempted to break the deafening silence, not even Mio who had lots of questions she held in suspension to give the old lady the needed time to relive her experiences in her own memory.

"Mio" Her grandmother uttered her name gently as ever, "do you know, in the past, I used to hate your grandfather so much?"

Huh?

An inquisitive look became more apparent in Mio's face as she redirected her gaze to her relative who confessed suddenly out of the blue. Observing the old lady's shift in tone and facial expression, the sixteen-year old garnered the necessary courage to ask a bold question, "… you do?"

+FLASHBACK+

"Mariya!"

"Mariya-sama!"

"Mariya-chan"

"Gah, I had enough with these people!" A half-dimmed face stole a glimpse from the search party who was undeniably looking for someone of noble blood. She rested her back on the sturdy trunk of an oak tree while propping her head on her thin yet creamy arms, ignoring the incessant calls of her name in the process.

"I'm fed up playing nice girl" she ran her fingers along her silky ebony hair and tucked the remaining strayed strands beneath her left ear.

The young rebel was, without doubt, Mariya. She was, once again, being searched after escaping the household for her inappropriate conduct towards her family's important guests.

"Why am I getting engaged with that sore loser, anyway?" An irritated tone became more prominent as she spat on the idea of being the future wife of her timid cousin.

I'm off better being a religious figure than marry a guy who couldn't raise a fist against his bullies at all!

"Mariya-chan" a soft-spoken boy with the same hair color and eyes as hers pleadingly asked for her return, "your father is worried. Please show up, I made you some chocolate cookies."

She gritted her teeth and bony prominences became more apparent as she clenched her fists angrily. Her grey orbs consumed a dangerous amount of raging fury and was ready to set a disastrous explosion had she lost her cool in this very moment. She felt insulted from the young lad's statement that denoted a subtle level of insensitivity.

Calm down, girl. He'll get what he'll deserve for insulting yours truly.

She locked her eyes towards the subject of her hatred fueled with fiery and disgust, hiding her presence in the thick green foliage of the tree she had chosen to carry out her retribution stealthily. Clenching and unclenching her fist, she sat with legs widely spread apart while her palm rested on the smooth surface of her carnation-kissed knee.

'A little bit of patience', she repeatedly reminded herself. Adjusting the rhythm of her breathing by taking a few slow deep breaths, assimilating a cold-blooded professional assassin, she wore a wicked smile that emanated conceit in its finest.

Failure was never part of her vocabulary; she knew that from the very beginning. Success will greatly depend on how wise her decision was. Rushing was just an excuse all fools had grown accustomed to. She was, however, an exception.

Born with noble bloodline, her agility, surprisingly, far exceeds their family's guards. Constantly outsmarting them was never an easy task as their household held the record of having the fiercest security ever existed in history. Though this might be a form of exaggeration, however, the staff received the harshest training no mere human being can handle yet, all of them, vowed for their unwavering loyalty towards the head of the house.

Mariya didn't have a mother to begin with, she only knew her through the sole photograph being left displayed on top of the golden altar, lightened with euphoric sweet incense, to commemorate her brief existence after dying right after giving birth to her daughter. The said child was raised by her father without reconsidering marrying another woman and it proved to be quite stressful to be a single parent and governing a humble community that was almost forgotten by Japan herself.

It wouldn't be a surprise if she was quite a tomboy despite possessing a beauty forever worshipped by mere mortals. After all, she grew up in a household surrounded mostly by men. Her hobbies and other recreations include gambling, playing pranks and sneaking out of the house.

This gave the headmaster a real headache and he planned to send his daughter overseas for rehabilitation. He knew that he needed an institution that would gradually teach Mariya how to act as a lady properly. However, he also needed someone who will be the young rebel's future husband to succeed him in his position. The aloof bearded man, with scars marring his grim visage, wanted a grandchild as well.

Unfortunately, the headmaster's nephew never exuded the necessary manliness to appease the almost confused and restless crowd. The declared heir's movements were tainted with grace and he easily sheds tears whenever something touched his vulnerable heartstrings.

The rowdy servants persuaded the venerable noble that his potential successor was unfit to take over the household. Catastrophe was imminent and everything that their ancestors worked hard for centuries would all be in naught. Yet, Mariya's father was never influenced even a bit from their biased personal opinions despite slandering the poor boy's name in favor for a better ruler. He remained calm amidst the objections he received for making such decision then glared at his servants dangerously, his orbs resembled the resistance of indestructible iron, sending wild impulses that would alert the feeble brain to flee from the scene at all cost.

"Do you dare question my decision?" He said in a very low vibrato voice while eyeing his petrified retainers who were about to fall from their shaking knees. All of them apologized, nodding incessantly, for their blatant exhibition of discourtesy in front of their master.

Sighing, the bearded man slouched back to his throne, shrugging his stiff shoulders and kindheartedly excused them for their behavior.

Approximately three minutes. It is time. Mariya snickered not loud enough to make her location known to the people who were looking for the mischievous lady.

She pulled a sharp object flailing near her waist and brought it closer to her vision for scrutiny. It never failed her to marvel on its blinding beauty whenever she takes a brief view of it. The ridiculous level of maintenance can be clearly seen on the dagger she held. Her small knife reflected her angelic face as she unsheathed it out from its glossy black scabbard, scarred with a trivial amount of grazes. There was a name engraved at the bottom of the blade and she squinted her eyes, out of habit, to read the initials of the blacksmith who crafted this weapon masterfully though, regretfully, it seemed that someone purposefully tarnished it – marring the humble masterpiece.

"Don't fail me this time" she whispered lovingly at the object like it was a human being in disguise, "let's give them a good show they would never forget for eons."

Loud yet sharp series of thundering snaps earned the attention of the oblivious party and they were welcomed by a number of slightly decaying logs, supported by thick blue ropes, hurling violently towards their direction.

"Duck!" an older servant dressed sloppily with a red bandana enwrapped in his brow yelled. They crouched down, for dear life's sake, otherwise they will be adding the increasing number of casualties made by none other than the sole daughter of their current hard-to-please leader.

Not given enough time to recuperate from the initial attack, another loud snap was heard and, this time, they saw a golden fluid streaming down their toes. Another servant who survived Mariya's logs leaned forward and observed the viscous substance consuming every space of their footing.

"This is" he dipped his finger to identify the substance that had them completely surrounded while sporting a façade that read bewilderment, "…honey?"

They heard one final snapping of the silver string up above and a pile of yellowish, marked with tiny brown spots proliferating on the exterior, small haven for hairy-bodied, nectar-loving insects were squashed mercilessly onto the ground.

"To the riverbanks!" he cried and grabbed the youngest member's fragile wrist to escape from the predicament they were currently in. A swarm of disturbed bees arose from the hive; their rapid fluttering produced an eerie buzzing sound that denoted their wrath as they instinctively flew towards the falsely accused suspects of perturbing their preserved peace.

Panic filled the air and an excruciating yelp became the very vocals of the harmonious stinging. Some faces were stung beyond belief. Their only means to flee from these enraged invertebrates were to head immediately to the riverbanks and take a temporary shelter from the fresh, cold waters of the calm stream.

Withholding the operation seemed to be the unanimous decision though, on the other hand, their master's notable belligerence would greet them halfway before they set foot on the fortified entrance of the house for their failure to retrieve Mariya out from the premises of the acclaimed mystical forest.

Admitting their obvious defeat, the one in charge of this search walked nonchalantly towards the boy, exerting a small amount of effort to wage war against the mild current imposed by the crystal clear river.

The ranked official gave the young master a gentle pat on his soaked raven hair. "Bocchan, we will resume the operation by dawn" he tried to persuade the latter with a soothing voice, curving the edges of his pallid lips upward to form an authentic smile. "We should take a rest first and tend the injuries of the other members." He lowered his head to express his sincerest apologies, "we have failed, we're terribly sorry."

Future heir of the household was enticed with the ostentatious beauty exuded by the woods in secrecy. He got lost for a moment, trailing his keen eyes to the tall trees enshrouding the expanse of the tranquil forest. Melancholic yet monotonous chirps from the swift birds and impassive cicadas supplemented the needed melody to the already eerie atmosphere.

The rustling of the leaves in response to the cool yet mysterious wind billowing through the humble fields and allowing the acquiescent grasses to dance freely in synchrony, sent forth a perceived nostalgic feeling to every living being who wallowed in this enigmatic scenery. It felt like the ancestral woods tries to tell a forgotten tale that was forever buried in the depths of man's consciousness.

Rays of light escaped from the trees' leaves, planting a soft kiss in the boy's pale cheeks, bringing him back to reality as warmth caressed his good-looking face in a very gentle manner. He raised his hand to take shade from the luminosity brought by the blazing sun, creating shadows that seeped out from the narrow spaces of his adducted fingertips.

"This is a very beautiful place" he said lowly, inaudible enough to be understood by the man who previously dabbed him in his head.

"Did you say something, sir?"

He shifted his gaze towards the servant with notable delay, smiling serenely while a glint of satisfaction emitted from his modest lips, "Nothing at all." He clasped his hands tightly, turning the skin surrounding his knuckles white before uttering a simple prayer, "Whoever watches this forest, please watch over Mariya and keep her safe from any harm."

After his short, earnest request from an unknown supernatural entity, he turned his back and marched his way to regroup with the other members of the search party who were covered with filth and large bruises plaguing their swollen thick layers of skin.

He stopped dead on his tracks when a frigid wind blew onto his delicate body, making the hairs in the back of his neck rose out from sheer horror, and whispered something to his panic-stricken eardrums.

"I will."

A/N: Oh, hey. It's been a while since I last added an update to this poor excuse of a title. Eight months, was it? Time, sure, flies fast. I never intend to ditch this story despite having a busy schedule. Well… I almost did, actually. This one's short unlike those previous chapters that made me want to hang myself in the gallows because I'm already running out of ideas. This arc will span atleast two to three chapters. A what?! Well, I'll try my hardest to fit the flashback in two chapters. Reviews are highly appreciated. Thank you very much for reading.

I dedicate this chapter to my children, my shiba inus and to my wife, of course. xD

Let me thank these people shortly…

sumiiko: Oh.. eh… uhmm… thank you very much. I'm quite embarrassed. D:

jazz3560: Thank you very much. Well… here's the update.

Oneechantsu: Who said I'm going to abandon this story? I just took a long break from writing because of many reasons. :P

To those who added this crap title to their lists: Thank you very much, I am very grateful.

To the readers out there: Thank you.