Ryoshi can't believe that this is actually happening. She's here, talking to him. She didn't even push away his hand. The touch had been soft, warm, electric. It had made him want to kiss her so badly his fingers hurt, but he distracted himself by thinking about the way her voice had sounded when she said those four heavenly words: I want you around.

She wants me to stay with her! His heart had almost exploded with happiness. She wanted him with her. That was wonderful. Better than wonderful. Amazing. Unbelievable. But what did it really mean?

Did she just miss his back-up? Was that all he was, another weapon she needed around in a fight? Ryoshi rejects that on principle. Ryoko never lets anyone stand for her, never lets anyone help her be strong. Based on that, Ryoshi decides that she wouldn't let him do that for her unless she had come to care. So did that mean that she missed his friendship? She must have missed it a lot to come all this way.

Ryoshi decides that it doesn't matter what kind of affection she feels for him, or if she feels any at all. It doesn't change his decision, the one he made months ago when he saw her walk past his desk for the first time, when he saw that scowl that covered a pair of beautiful eyes that were so cold and cruel… but held a touch of something else, something… concealed, and soft. He couldn't stop thinking about those eyes, that feeling he got when he looked at her. She was different. He wanted to know her.

He knew then, just as he knows now. I'll protect her. No matter what. I'll become a strong man who can accept anything about her. Even if she never loves me back. I don't care what am to Ryoko, as long as I'm there, close to her.

Xxxxxxxcxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So. Plan?" I ask. Ryoshi jolts a little, like I've snapped him out of some deep train of thought. After a little bit he says,

"We should lie low for the next week. I think it'll be easier if she finds out as late as possible."

"Well we've gotta tell her sooner or later… If we just go then she's gonna think something bad happened to you." I sigh, and flop on my back onto the hard mattress… still letting Ryoshi touch me. Wanting him to.

This plan will be more difficult than I thought—his mother can't be kept in the dark, but we also need to make it so she that won't stop us from leaving, which seems like an impossible goal at this point. Outright telling her won't work—she'll just kick me out and lock Ryoshi up. We can't just run away either, she'll get a police search or God knows what, and Ryoshi still legally belongs to her anyway.

"Yeah. Maybe… Hey, what about a letter?" He exclaims, sitting up.

"A letter? You really think that would work?"

"To be honest, I don't know. But it does something, doesn't it? I can write her one before we leave. That way when she wakes up, she'll find it, and maybe she won't freak out. I can tell her where I am, but by the time she gets it, we'll be long gone."

I sit up beside him. "Not bad. On the other hand, if she doesn't take it well…"

"I think I can make her understand."

"You already tried that two weeks ago," I remind him. "It didn't exactly work out."

"Yeah, but she kept interrupting me and she was too full of her own thoughts to take it what I was trying to say. Maybe this time, she'll be able to hear me."

"Well, it's the only option that comes close to being good. So let's roll with it." I glance at the clock. Ryoshi and I have been sitting around in my dark bedroom for two hours?! I blink, then shrug. Time doesn't seem to have any balance when I'm with him. I feel a twinge, looking at the clock. I hope he won't go because it's late now. I know it's lame, but I don't want him to go.

Fortunately, he doesn't bring up how long he's been in here. The music from downstairs has gotten louder. I'm surprised Morino-sama hasn't told my fellow servants to knock off the racket yet.

"You got here two weeks ago, right?" Ryoshi asks, interrupting the sound of guitar. "How come you waited till you were sick to find me?"

God. This is going to be embarrassing.

"Uhhh..," I gasp. "I, um. You, upstairs is… well." Oh my God, strike me dead! I must sound like a total jerk.

"I couldn't go up there," I manage. "Upstairs is off limits for servants, so… I didn't have much of a chance?"

"I get that… but why didn't you come at night sooner? You shouldn't have done that, Ryoko," he says gently. "You were sick."

"Argh! I did do it!" I exclaim. "I just couldn't… I don't know… it seemed too weird, so I didn't wake you up."

Ryoshi silently takes this in. "So… did you come see me every night?"

I want to hide under this bed and never come out. I don't say anything. Silence. Well, except for the guitar music from downstairs. I hold my breath, hoping that I will disappear if I concentrate hard enough. Suddenly, Ryoshi's laugh breaks the silence.

"You're so cute, Ryoko." He laughs.

I turn and stare at his dark form. "What?!"

"This is what I'm always talking about. You act like you always do. But you're too shy to show yourself, even after you came all this way to do it. It's… adorable, really. I'm sorry, but that's the truth. I just can't resist you." He laughs some more, and even though I find this situation horribly humiliating, something bubbles up inside me. I start laughing with him.

"Okay, okay," I say. "I went in there every night. But I promise I didn't look through your drawers." We laugh, because this is so weird, so unconventional. Especially for me.

"I knew it!" Ryoshi exclaims.

"Huh?"

"I thought… I thought I was dreaming it, but I wasn't—you were really there, that whole time."

"Wait, you were awake?!"

"Sort of, I guess. Like when you're half asleep, half not. I'm a light sleeper anyways."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

I fill the resulting silence by quietly tapping my black shoe on the hardwood floor, to the beat of the song in the background. I realize that I recognize it. Where have I heard this song before? I really like it, but…

I suddenly remember. This was playing at the dance my school had, when I was thirteen… I shudder at the memory. Shiro had tried to teach me how to slow dance, but I had been really bad. I had stepped on his feet by mistake, and he had snapped angrily at me afterwards. I wonder why my friends didn't see him do that.

The unpleasant memory causes me to wrap my arms around myself.

"Ryoko?" Ryoshi asks.

"Huh?"

"This is a little weird maybe, but do you… maybe want to dance?" The music seems to tease me. It drifts closer. I can hear laughter from downstairs. It makes sense. These people seem to think even a blizzard is a reason to have a party.

Ryoshi's question, and the repulsion of the memory, causes me to instantly shy away.

"No!" I exclaim abruptly. "Well… maybe not no…I mean, I can't. I don't know how."

For some reason, dancing to this song—which has gone from the rock guitar to soft piano, as I know it does about four minutes into it—with Ryoshi seems scary. I don't want that memory to poison my time with him. I don't want to think of him when I think of it.

"I can teach you," Ryoshi offers. He tries to act like it won't bother him if I say no, but I can hear the hopefulness in his voice, laced with the gentleness of the piano.

You know, I consider, it helps to paint over the bad memories with good ones. A nervous voice inside whispers, But what if he laughs at you? You're clumsy as crap when it comes to this stuff! The first voice argues, But you've been boxing for three years! You're way lighter on your feet now. And he won't laugh. This is Ryoshi we're talking about. He's sweet enough to give you diabetes just by sitting next to him.

You can do this. Let it go.

This isn't just about dancing for me. It's about letting him do several things that tug at my defense system: seeing me be dependent on his guidance, especially at something I'm weak at, having him… touch my waist… and hands… and stuff.

But I have to be brave. I said I would get stronger for him.

"Okay," I whisper. "Just… be careful?"