User:The Koromo/Descending Skies

AN: It's been a very long time since I've been active writing fanfiction on this site, let alone Saki fanfiction. In the longrun, I have had so many ideas - fanfiction or OC - that have come at me including horror, angst, drama, and unproffesional music/film reviewing...the ideas just come on in waves, and I find myself pondering and jotting down these ideas for the future, thus making me focus less on my works in-progress or anything of the sort. For this reason exactly, I apologize to anyone who's been following my work. However, this fanfiction specifically has been something on my mind in the longrun either way. This story is intended to be the first of mine in a series of Saki fanfictions that will be provided with a more realistic edge in favor of the phantasy that I usually am accustomed to.

In it's barest sense this story is about life - more specifically, Amae Koromo's life throughout a one year time period (Amae's last year of highschool, going chronologically by what in-canon manga suggests). The main message of this story is nostalgia and longing; as well as personal struggles and turmoil that can only be fixed with effort. During the process of my idea surge, I had been listening to The Smashing Pumpkins' "Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness" record when this idea formulated in my brain, and as a result I decided to interconnect the music's general message with the story's general message - "The human condition of mortal sorrow". Do not at all think that this story will be angsty - it's message is to encapsulate a wide range of emotions within it's duration; the same emotions that Koromo must struggle through within this fanfiction. It was a particular lyric from a particular song on the above mentioned record that specifically inspired me to begin this story:

"On a live wire right above the street, you and I, should meet."

On the topic of duration, as a note of forewarning, this story will be extremely long. Even longer than a few of my in-progress novellas I am writing separately. This story will have at least fourty chapters and each will be fairly lengthy (about 2,500-3,000 words apiece, though it will likely fluctuate frequently). As a result of it's concept (the emotional mind can be a dark thing to indulge in), use of occasional profanity and occasional violence, the story will be rated a T. Reviews, criticism, and favorites are all greatly encouraged and appreciated.

Falling Skies

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A cold chill swept down the sidewalk, and the young, petite blond girl could not help but to grip as tight as she could against her coat. Still shivering, she continued down the lonely pathway which stood beside the equally lonely and desolate suburban street.

The wind struck relentlessly again; autumn was on it's way.

To most, a declaration as simple as "Autumn was on it's way" would not make them bat an eye, but to Koromo Amae, the season of autumn was a statement of importance. September; the same month in which she was born, and which her parents passed eleven years afterwards. Her birthday had passed, just yesterday; and in exactly ten days it would be the anniversary of her guardians' passing.

Right then, though, Koromo was focusing more on getting home rather than contemplating in the middle of the street. The sky was blue, and the leaves on the trees were beautifully patterned, either dark, glowing green from the precedent summer or the brown-ish, golden and crispy leaves that signified autumn. Sometimes there was a mix of both; swaying beautifully in the wind.

In any case, Koromo should've been happy, but neutrality overcame her. Autumn brought winter upon her, which would no doubt be desolate, cold and grimy. "Live in the moment" mother and father would always say, but Koromo exceedingly found it difficult to follow this philosophy due to recent events in her life - including the unfortunate loss of her parents. Now, in this moment, all Koromo wanted to do was get back home and rest following the exhausting school day. However, just like every other recent evening of returning home, a peculiar thought hit her.

She did not want to go back home to Touka.

To those who knew Koromo, this would be not only an odd and striking thought; but a shocking and unusual one as well. Touka, whom was Koromo's cousin, had been taking care of Koromo for nearly five years now. She was akin to a new mother of Koromo's; the only slot that needed to be taken was the title of "new father".

However, Koromo could not help but feel that both titles were unfulfilled; as Koromo felt as if Touka had fallen away from her as a caretaker and a guardian. Touka was, in contrast to her boastful eccentric attitude, now rather more cold and bitter than she was before the heart disease-induced death of her father - and Koromo's uncle.

Koromo initially had felt no remorse for her uncle's death; she had hated that man. Nearly five years of her life spent living with that neglectful, unempathetic control freak who dared to take Koromo in his isolated, chained household. Hideaki, his name, always had something new on his agenda for how he would keep Koromo completely sealed and isolated from outside civilization. Though he may have felt as though he was doing it for good, he only made Koromo feel more like a pathetic, caged wild animal rather than a person. Mahjong - the main reason she was neglected - was not a symbol of fun or joy within her family, like she had wanted it to be. It was a devil's speak, a taboo as a result of Koromo's monumental prowess as a player. But she did not want to be a taboo cursed child; she merely wanted to have fun with her opponents during play. She had lost on both sides.

Touka was Koromo's opposite in terms of reaction to Hideaki's death. She had been stricken with depressive grief and dwindling confidence, very uncharacteristically of her, after her father's illness-induced passing. She was still a motherly figure in some sense - hard working and cautious - but her father's death had effected her relationship with Koromo marvelously as well.

Oftentimes, Koromo was subject to scoldings or rants by Touka. Unlike the past, not a single mistake was to be made without a lecture from her caretaker. Touka's short fuse - even shorter than initially - had been getting to Koromo's head, intimidating her. She had never slapped, kicked, or punched Koromo - that was out of the question and would not be done by Touka no matter the circumstance. Still, Touka's aggression and post-mortem grief (indirectly taken out on Koromo) had not been as terrifying as Koromo's experiences with Hideaki after he had come home drunk on some nights.

To make circumstances even harder than they already were, the mahjong club had fallen into a state of decay. Jun and Hajime had been frequently attached to their own home life issues, giving them little time to visit Koromo, and Tomoki had been struggling with God-knows-what; she hadn't been seen for months by any of the friends. Butler Hagiyoshi was frequently hard at work, leaving Koromo with next to zero time to reach out to him. School was a similar scenario; no one had openly picked on or bullied Koromo, but she felt unnoticed and unoriginal - just another student goon in a sea of the faceless.

Her particularly engineered train of thought was cut short when she bumped abruptly into a metal surface. Looking up from her feet - in which her gaze had been focused on for the past minutes of thought - she saw the ever-so familiar gates to the Ryuumonbuchi manor in which she resided. Beyond the gates were a dirt pathway leading smoothly through the soothing, decorative gardens and luxurious fountains before crossing over the bridge and ending in the woodlands wherein the manor resided. Two large estates, standing side by side serenely beneath the autumn skies, a thick fortress of mountains behind them.

This was the place Koromo had callen home for the past few years. Before her parents' death, she had lived in modest security with them in a suburban-ish area besides a small, relatively obscure Nagano city. That had, for obvious reasons, changed once Hideaki had taken her in.

Since their untimely deaths, Koromo had become less and less cheerful. Her behaviors were almost bipolar in nature - from one surge of emotions to the next in what seemed like a split instant. But her sorrowful loneliness was always there in the back of her mind; Koromo had not always been happy before her parent's death, though after they passed was when Koromo's negative side began to take over. She missed the wisdom and love that her mother shared, and she missed all the hugs and the laughs shared with her father. Koromo did not want Touka to go on that same downward spiral that effected Koromo, but it seemed as though it was too late; she was well into it's beginning stages, from what Koromo had observed.

Koromo rapped her small knuckles on the relatively large set of wooden doors that led into Touka's mansion, but as opposed to anybody answering it, the wind blew them open on its own. Koromo was immediately hit with a delightful smell, one of bread toasting. Following the trail, Koromo made her way into one of the smaller kitchens in the manor, in which she saw Touka (who had gotten home from school about a half an hour earlier than Koromo) applying cold cuts between two loafs of bread.

She did not look good. She wore a set of tattered flip flops and her hair fell about in a jumbled, uncombed blond mess. She looked tired, lethargic and worn out overall, and she turned her head over to Koromo.

Koromo felt both fear and concern simaltaneously as she began to speak to her cousin. "Hello, Touka. I-is something the matter?"

"Koromo!" Touka stressed. "You're almost ten minutes late from getting back home! You worried me sick, desu-wa!" Touka placed a plate with a toasted sandwich atop of it and a glass of iced tea in front of Koromo as she sat down.

"The Koromo is sorry, okay?" Koromo sighed - she still had a habit of her third person speak. She didn't really have an excuse for her tardiness this time, since nothing specifically had happened to weigh her down, so in an attempt to change the subject she moved along. "Are you okay? You appear to be very distressed today."

Touka sat down across from Koromo with a glass of iced tea, but no sandwich. "Ugh, I'm fine, I suppose." Judging by the superficial tone of Touka's voice, Koromo knew this was most likely a lie. "I am just exhausted from the eventful school day and tattered from the amount of commoners I must put up with, desu-wa."

"Where is Hagiyoshi? He usually is the one who cooks in the household."

"He is running errands today," Touka explained, sipping her iced tea glass as though she was holding a cup of hot tea instead. "He's out purchasing some more insect repellants; I've heard that some infestations have been going on around here, so I always keep precautioned, desu-wa. You have not been talking to Haramura Nodoka recently, is that correct?"

Koromo shot up at that last sentence. She had indeed been talking to Nodoka via phone, as she wanted to keep in touch with the friend she had made during the prefectural finals from last year. They seldom called eachother, but were still friends only separated by sheer distance. "Huh? Why does it concern you?" Koromo knew the answer, but the question unconsciously slipped out.

"Grah!" Touka snarled. "I told you, Koromo! I do not want you talking to that woman! Speaking her name is not permitted in our household, and you know of this, desu-wa."

Koromo argued, though her voice was still subdued. "I have been talking to her, Touka, that I can't deny. But I don't know why you are concerned about it. In the past you have always been supportive of whoever I befriended, no matter the cause, and yet here you are restricting me from speaking to a friend."

Touka grew visibly angrier. "Like I have said in the past, Koromo, Nodoka is the least influence you need; you are not permitted to speaking with her. End. Of. Discussion!"

Influence? It was not like Touka's narcissistic, spoiled short tempered attitude was one to live by either, but Koromo kept this opinion to herself. Touka continued to rant.

"Koromo, when Hagiyoshi comes back to make dinner in an hour I expect that when I call up to your room to fetch you that you will behaved and non-questioning, desu-wa. Off, now, will you please? I need some time to myself."

Koromo could no longer argue. In response she meekly choked out "Y-yes, Touka" and stood up. She had not taken one bite of her sandwich, and did not bother to bring it up with her, though she carried the iced tea along with her.

Stepping through the hallway that connected Touka's mansion with her own, she opened the door to her very own room after ascending a flight of stairs and collapsed on the sheets of her bed. Various stuffed dolls and toys lay on the floor of the wide room, along with more professionally assorted mahjong tiles, and a window was plastered onto the back wall giving a fair view of the evening trees and mountains. On the nighttable next to Koromo was her cellphone, turned off.

Koromo settled into the pink sheets and blankets of her bed and, not bothering to kick off her shoes, rested her head upon the pillow and stared up above at the unmoving ceiling fan. This room was comforting but lonely; the worst part about this being Koromo's impression that her wall of loneliness had been broken down when she met Saki and Nodoka, though this only started a new chapter to her solitude.

Koromo, however, temporarily dismissed these thoughts as the waves of sleep caressed her mind. It had been a long, tiring, exhausting school day, and without even having the time to rise her head from the pillow, she fell into a midday slumber.

AN: And thus finishes the first chapter. Any constructive criticism, praise, or comments would be heavily valued and appreciated by me. And yes, again, this will be a long story; so as a result, it will take also a long time to finish all 40+ chapters. However, I sincerely hope you enjoy the story, and once again, any opinions and constructive criticisms in the review section will be taken into account and appreciated heavily. Goodbye, for now, until the next chapter.

AN: Here is the second chapter. Special thanks to anyone who's been following my story from the first chapter; I appreciate any and all support, in the form or reviews, follows, or favorites. Even views or visits (though I have yet to tell the difference) make me happy. Thanks also goes to Billy Corgan and Trent Reznor, both of whom have music very crucial to my writing inspiration.

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The next afternoon, Koromo had again found herself recycling the same routine; walking home on foot from a long, rigorous school day as usual. Koromo had still not gotten back into the 'swing' of school; the fourty day summer break had just ended and the school year had resumed into its usual agenda starting on the final day of August.

Koromo could not help but find herself worrying about this aspect; continuous repitition of the same routine, every day for who knew how long. She had met many people who suffered from the monotonous recycling and drudgery of everyday life, and she felt as though this idea was encompassing and gnawing at her brain. One part of her told her that it was in it's developing stages, and another side attempted to convince her that these feelings had begun a long time ago; perhaps even longer than Koromo could remember.

Koromo—for, despite how critically acclaimed she was in local high school mahjong tournaments—found herself not to have any real voice or purpose. She was not globally famous or renowned and she certainly did not make any lengthy, inspiring monologues. What she would say that was important would likely go ignored and unnoticed, just as she had felt in school, since, well, what was there important to say? She'd come to a conclusion that humanity is a race that has been programmed by the norms of modern society; a race that has no choice but to do what they're told, avoiding rebellion in fear of being pinned down by modern civilization and it's pressures. Those who showed enough bravery to stand up against these norms could be described as more courageous than the average human.

When Koromo thought of these types of people, she thought of names such as Kurt Cobain, or Budd Dwyer, or Charlotte Perkins Gilman, or Uesugi. But like her parents, those people were dead now; such names no longer mattered or held any significance anymore.

Koromo stopped at the doors to the manor, before she turned her gaze towards the direction of the sky. It had been a cloudier, more dreary day, though the sun was beginning to shine through the blackening clouds as evening began to set in.

Koromo was, as usual, worried about speaking with Touka, but this particular day she figured would be even worse. Koromo had stayed after school to help a teacher clean up the classroom before the after school programs started. A half an hour later, Koromo departed towards her home.

Now the problem that came, or rather would come, was Touka's reaction. She would be seething; that was a given. Even if Koromo explained her reasoning for coming home late, Touka would find a way around this and lecture Koromo about how worried she was, how lateness is not an option in the Ryuumonbuchi household, etcetera. Koromo herself was not one to lie; she would not make up some more far-fetched, bullshit excuse to avoid trouble. She knew better; she would be in it either way.

With a tremendous, hesitant gulp, she pushed open the double doors and into the family room. Slowly picking up her pace as she tiptoed, she passed the mini-kitchen and unlike the previous afternoon, Touka was not at work making lunch. In the hallway to the back, Koromo could hear an audible shuffling from behind the door beside the staircase. Approaching it, she placed her hand around the knob.

There was no need to postpone the inevitable. She swung the door open into the living room, and immediately saw Touka pacing worriedly in a circle in front of the coffee table. Touka stared up, surprised at the sudden sound of the door opening, before her look of surprise turned into one of pure fury.

"KOROMO!" Touka charged up to her, her eyes glaring daggers at her cousin. Koromo cringed excruciatingly and attempted to speak.

"T-Touka-"

"Where have you been?!"

"I was-"

"Oh dear, here we are again! 'I was here!' 'I was doing this and that!' That's all I ever hear from you anymore, Koromo!"

By this point, Koromo had retreated in front of the coffee table to give some space between herself and Touka, though Touka continued her ranting from the distance. Koromo choked out meekly, "I-I am sorr-"

"An apology is not enough this time, desu-wa! Do you understand how worried sick you made me? This is completely inexcusable, is this clear?" Touka was beet red by now, terrifying Koromo all the more.

Koromo held her hands over her face but still spoke. "Y-yes! It is clear! I understand! But I was helping my teacher clean up a-"

"There is NO excuse for this!"

The next moment seemed to happen in a blur. Touka, now directly in front of Koromo, delivered a quick punch straight across Koromo's cheek. Koromo, due to combination of sheer force and surprise, tumbled over the coffee table, knocking over a plastic flower pot and tumbling onto the carpet. Along with stinging pain on her cheek from Touka's sudden unexpected punch, Koromo had felt her arm sprain as well; it had bended as she stumbled from the coffee table and onto the ground.

As Koromo stood up, looking up at her cousin with her jaw hanging open, Touka looked down at her own fist. Even she was shocked by what she had done. "K-Koromo..."

Koromo did not speak a single word. She turned around from Touka and sprinted as quickly as she could from the door and into the hallway that interconnected the two Ryuumonbuchi manors. "Koromo! Wait! I'm sorry, desu-wa! I didn't mean-"

Touka's words went ignored as Koromo entered her mansion and into her room. She slammed the door and locked it as tightly as she could before she crashed down onto her own bed, sobbing hysterically. Yes, Touka was spoiled and arrogant and the whole package that came with that, but she had always been that way. It was only recently that after her father died Touka began to grow more cold and bitter and controlling. Koromo knew this, but either way, Touka had never actually hit her...up until now.

Koromo heard panting from outside her door, and sure enough, Touka was soon at the door, heavily rapping her knuckles on it. "Ko-ro-mo! Open up!"

"Go away!"

"Please! Just open up, desu-wa!"

"No!"

A few similar exchanges continued for a few more minutes, before Touka let out a defeated sigh from outside the door and audibly gave up. After the echoing of Touka's footsteps (as she left the building and back into her own) had subsided, Koromo wiped some premature tears off of her cheeks and took her hands out of her face. She stood up and stretched, walking over to the back window.

The garden beyond was a natural sight to behold. Lush plantlife and flowers flourished all around, planted within large rectangular structures built around and above the concrete tiles. Beyond even the garden, a massive field wedged between the two halves of the forest stretched out as far as the eye could see into a beautiful vanishing point, perhaps even past the mountains. Koromo had often thought about traveling out there to discover what was past even that field, but that was asking far too much. Touka would not let Koromo go more than thirty yards out in that field.

Koromo fell back over her bed, resting face-first in the pillow. Her tears were still drying on her fingertips. How would she have dealt with Touka now? Touka's verbal frustration could at least be dealt with by either ignoring or apologizing—but hitting? Now knowing Touka was physically aggressive as well would not end in a clean fashion. If the authorities found out Touka had been hitting her cousin, the police would get involved, Touka and most probably Hagiyoshi as well (due to him being the legal adult in the household) would be arrested, Koromo would be sent to a foster home, and-

No. None of that were to happen. At that moment Koromo knew what she needed to do; call a trusted friend. Particularly, someone who had been in the mahjong club before its (seemingly) indefinite hiatus, that she could trust and keep what was said amongst eachother, well, amongst eachother. Koromo reached over to her night table and searched for some numbers on the screen to call.

Hajime Kunihiro. 090-1574-2349. Koromo called, but received no answer; she didn't bother to leave a message as this was a more urgent situation; it required a talk as soon as possible. Tomoki Sawamura? That was out of the question; weeks had passed and everyone else in the club, not just Koromo or Touka, had not seen her at all. It was as if every trace of her existence had been wiped off of the planet, though Koromo knew this was merely an over-exaggeration. Nodoka Haramura; Koromo had considered it, but not after Touka's outburst earlier today, especially given what she said about talking with Haramura the night before.

Jun Inoue. 089-8143-6122. Jun Inoue had always been one of the people Koromo could talk to the most; and certainly one of the more understanding (if still irresponsible, though not among her friends) of her companions. She quickly tapped in the number and held it to her ear.

"Hello? Hello?" After the phone had stopped beeping, there was still no answer. Koromo, defeated, turned to shut it off but was interrupted abruptly when the late caller returned the message.

The voice over the phone wisecracked. "You're calling the Local Loony House, how may I help you?" Koromo could not help but smile; she recognized that dry, smartass tone of voice anywhere.

"Jun, The Koromo needs to talk to you. It is very important."

"Sure. God, my dad won't stop bitching in the next room over. Anyways, what's up?"

"Jun..." Koromo struggled and choked to find the right words. This would not be too easy to explain without Jun reacting aggressively (towards Touka, that is). She should have planned ahead. "Jun...ah...you do know about Touka's treatment of me in recent times, correct?"

"Yep. I'm sorry I've not been able to catch up with you recently, lots and lots of stuff on my mind. What's she done now?"

"Well...Jun..." Koromo's lips felt dry and cracked, still struggling to release the right words. Finally, while she was still hesitant, she decided on being blunt and getting it over with. "J-Jun...T-Touka...hit me earlier."

For a few moments, everything was silent. Jun was obviously shocked; Koromo could not even hear her breathing. Finally she said, "What?"

"T-Touka hit me, Jun. She punched me, so I took off and I ran to my room and locked the door before she could continue or speak."

"Why would she do that?"

"The Koromo does not know. She overreacted because I came home late. So it is mostly my fault, I assume. Please, Jun, whenever you can, come to the manor. Please."

Jun cursed underneath her breath, though Koromo could clearly hear the word "fuck" escape from her mouth. She spoke up again. "Alright. I'm sorry, Koromo, but I can't right now. Whenever I make time to visit you, I promise I'll do it. Just hang tight, okay?"

"O—okay."

And then Jun hung up.

Koromo placed the phone in the night table drawer and sighed. Using her ringfinger, she fished up a necklace from the disassembled mess inside her drawer and applied it over her head, letting the medallion-like centerpiece fall onto her chest. She held the medallion of the necklace—which was held up by the silver string of small orbs that reached out from each side—in her hand, rubbing her thumb against it softly. For a few minutes, she just stared at it as if she was a toddler seeing a teenager for the first time.

But she knew what this was; this was nothing new to her. It had been a staple of importance to her, in fact; this was the last thing that Mother gave to Koromo before her untimely passing. Father; he was a busy man at the time of his passing to say the least, and he had no time to leave anything for Koromo except for his lingering memory. For Koromo, only the necklace remained as a memory of her mother; besides, of course, well, the memory of her in and of itself.

Koromo suddenly grabbed and pulled at her own hair—she had to stop tormenting herself emotionally with past grievances, depressive, dark memories and lingering complication. The memories of her own pain during the time of her parents' death had surely been so intense and overwhelming that the feelings of grief she still held on to now did not even breach a shadow of what it was back then. She knew how much it hurt back then—even worse than it did now—but she couldn't remember clearly if her misery had ever been worse than exactly at that moment of discovering what had happened. Quite frankly, she didn't really want to.

Deep down something inside her wanted to tell her that grief lasting this long was not normal—she did want it to go away, and only keep the memory of her parents in her head rather than let depressive longing consume her—but that part of her was just absent for the time being.

She rested her head on the pillow, staring at the mahjong table across the room from a distance. She sighed; she seemed to be even better at doing that than actually playing mahjong. Koromo, without pondering this further, let herself drift away for the next few hours—not into a state of dreams, or even sleep, but a state of memories. The good ones, of course. No more grieving—she forced herself to push all of that away for the time being.

Koromo had a tendency for losing herself in thought—even hours could pass with her doing nothing but lying down and reflecting on the past. This evening was one of those examples of her being deep down into the depths of nothing but thoughts, disregarding anything around her—like her own little bubble, or world. Those lengthy thoughts ended abruptly as another knock on the door signaled.

Koromo whimpered meekly, in a poor attempt to not sound pathetic, "What?" She knew already who it was.

"Koromo..." the voice from outside the door said. Sure enough, it was of course Touka. "I ordered some food, desu-wa. Please, come down." She did not wait to listen to Koromo's response, perhaps out of fear or shame (though she would never admit that), and Koromo listened to her trail off back into her own mansion.

Koromo shuddered, but her stomach did rumble. She had to eat something. The only question was dealing with Touka in the kitchen—what if she had hit her again? Koromo would need to call someone, a friend, the police, or anyone that could help her.

No. No. Again, she couldn't. She was clearly overthinking this. Such drastic measures would only need to be taken if Touka continued repeating what she had done to Koromo earlier. One incident would likely be passed off as nothing more than a normal parental act of discipline—not true physical abuse.

Koromo pushed all of these thoughts away as she descended the staircase and through the dimly-lit hall that interconnected both mansions. Pushing open the connected door and into the mansion, Koromo continued down the next hallway until she arrived back through one of the living rooms and into the larger kitchen, a different one from which Touka had been using to make a sandwich the afternoon before.

Koromo and Touka met eyes, and Touka quickly turned her head towards the table, which was blanketed in a thick white cloth that draped down below the base of the chairs. Upon the table was a brown bag of food with an artificial yellow smiley face drawn on it labeled "HAVE A GREAT MEAL" crudely. Touka had a salad in front of her, complete with diced bits of chicken and clear vinegar as a dressing, and she seemed not to have began eating it yet. Supposedly she had ordered it from a local no-name restaurant.

Koromo opened her mouth to say something, but nothing could come out but a hoarse wheeze. She grabbed the rest of the bag quickly and sat down in front of Touka, taking out the meal inside. It was, like her cousin's dish, a salad.

It was a simple plastic bowl of lettuce and celery, slathered with creamy olive oil and completed with fresh shrimp as a topping. Koromo looked up at Touka, hesitant to speak to her at all. She really just wanted to eat and be done with it so she could avoid Touka for the rest of the night. However, she made the decision to speak, regarding her meal. "No fried shrimp?"

Touka paused for a second, before answering. "No. Sorry, they informed me that they were out of stock. All they had was fresh shrimp, desu-wa."

"O—okay."

The two sat in an astounding awkward silence; just minutes had passed and it felt like hours. Finally, as Touka and Koromo both finished their meals, Koromo placed her chopsticks in the now nearly empty bowl and looked up to Touka. "Why?" she choked out.

Touka frowned. "Why? Why what?" She didn't need to ask, but she did so anyway. She knew what the answer would be.

"Why did you hit Koromo, Touka?" Koromo was audibly and visibly upset. She had to have asked at some time or another; she could not just leave it lingering. She did not want to feel this way; she did not want to feel abused by one of the last people she had left.

Touka choked back her breath and her face paled slightly. "I...I do not know, Koromo. An uncontrollable urge came over me and I unthinkingly lashed out at you physically. It was wrong, and I apologize, desu-wa."

"Do you really?"

"Y—yes. I do. Really."

"Okay."

Koromo knew her apology was not fully true. Touka could never bring herself to be generous enough to apologize for anything - in her voice, Koromo heard decay. She may have been sorry, but that didn't change the feelings of hurting.

Without another word, Koromo stood up, tossed her bowl of salad in the garbage, and started to speed walk back into her own mansion through the dimly lit interconnected hall. Touka stayed in the kitchen, temporarily numb. She rolled whatever lettuce was left in the bowl with her chopsticks, not bothering to finish it, and with a shamed sigh, she stood up and tossed the bowl into the trash bin. She had hoped that this situation would all be forgotten about tomorrow; but that notion was highly unlikely.

In the meanwhile, as Touka walked to her own bed, Koromo closed her own door, not bothering to lock it, and started to trudge over to her closet. Undressing into pajamas, she collapsed on her bed and removed her headband, placing it on the night table beside her. She wanted to pick up a book from her shelf and read—but tiredness got the better of her, and as her head fell onto the pillow, she felt the grasp of comforting sleep and majestic dreams encompass her.

AN: And thus ends the second chapter. I hope you have enjoyed it, and please, if you would be generous enough to leave feedback and constructive criticism, please do so. It would be heavily appreciated. Expect the next chapter in a week or so.

AN: Hello again; back with the third chapter. Before you start reading the actual chapter, to clear up any confusion, please be aware that this is a flashback chapter; taking place a year before her parents' death, in Koromo's dream after she drifted off to sleep in the previous chapter. Once again, all constructive criticism and opinions are welcomed. =)

Of course, inspiration and thanks goes to Billy Corgan and Trent Reznor (specifically Nine Inch Nails/Trent's "The Fragile" album, which I have been listening to non-stop since starting this story). Thanks also goes to Vein's Simply Tired for the reviews, and to anyone else who's been following this story =)

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July 23rd

Koromo felt the delightfully chilly breeze of the summer night air encompass her as she stepped out onto the sidewalk which connected to the well-lit town square under the star-dotted sky. Twilight had just passed, and night set in casting a starry shadow above the city.

Behind Koromo, a man and a woman followed her out of the brightly-lit store they had just visited. The man, about six feet in height, had piercing green eyes and short, fairly cut graying hair that ended about just above his ears. His face was visibly old and wrinkled with time, but in stark contrast, he did adorn a cleanly white business suit, and a warm and gentle smile. However, this quickly turned into a concerned frown when he saw Koromo was unthinkingly heading off on her own.

The woman beside him grabbed Koromo's hand, before she could wander off into the street lost in her own cheerfulness. "Koromo, you have to stay by our side, dear!" The woman in question had long, flowing golden locks that stopped just short above her waist, complete with her slate blue eyes. She adorned a simple white shirt and a necklace dangling from her neck, with an equally slate blue medallion as its centerpiece.

"Oh, Koromo is sorry, Mother..." Koromo looked down shamefully at the sidewalk pavement, holding the bag of sweets she had been given. "But thank you for taking me to the candy shop! Yayay!"

The man, her father, could not help but laugh heartily. "It's alright, Koromo. However, I suggest you wait until after dinner to eat those sweets. Remember, we are taking you to this city for fun; we want you to enjoy it to its fullest, dear."

"Alright!" Koromo giggled. "Thank you for putting aside all of your work for me, Mother and Father!"

The two parents exchanged smiles. "Of course, honey. You will always be more important to us than whatever book or business we must attend to," Mother stated.

Koromo smiled; this was and forever would be her warm place - with her parents, safe, not alone, able to enjoy herself and life in general.

But she would be alone, soon enough. There would be no more warmth.

But now, in this present memory, her then ten-year-old mind did not know that yet. Here she was, by her beloved parents' side, without a care in the world. Unlike what she would become in the future, she lived in the moment and was able to properly cherish what was happening around her; with no worries of the future or the past. It was moments such as these—the warm, hopeful moments of clarity—that gave the impression that nothing could or would ever, ever go wrong. In this moment, everything was right where it belonged.

Once again, it would not always be this way. Koromo wished she had known this earlier; but like the average child, she was at that moment too ignorant to the true nature of the universe and its inhabitants. Once the teenage years hit, true innocence would end, just as in almost all human beings.

After a few minutes of the family walking (or skipping in Koromo's case) down the busy night street, looking for an appropriate restaurant for family dining, Koromo skidded to a stop in front of her parents, so sharply that they almost tripped over her. "Look!" Koromo pointed in the direction of a restaurant building, just across the street. "Is that a Hamires? I have always wanted to go there once again and have more of their delicious fried shrimp!" Koromo twirled around excitedly, humming to herself.

"I don't think that's a Hamires; it lacks the logo, but it could serve as a fine family dining night material. Ah, Mitsuuko..." Father turned towards Mother, grabbing Koromo's other hand like Mother had done. "What do you think?"

Mitsuuko rubbed her chin but quickly concluded. Being from the richer side of the family, she was always willing to handle currency issues. "Sure, Khelek. I am willing to spend some yen, especially if it makes her happy."

Khelek exchanged his wife's smile. "Of course nothing can go wrong with cheering her up, dear."

XXXXXXXX

Koromo had always loved the feel and atmosphere of restaurants. A time of dining with her family, wherein nothing could go wrong. This was why Koromo had, along with her goal of mahjong, always wanted to become a waitress in her future, and as she did not necessarily aspire to be a professional, mahjong in itself would not be a real job. Besides, the idea of bringing happiness and satisfaction to costumers like she would be able to do at a restaurant was a wonderful idea.

"Two adults, one children's seat, preferably a booth, please," Khelek requested at the counter of the dimly lit diner. Even at night, this restaurant was busy; presumably because late night dining was always inexplicably fun in most cases.

"Heeeeey! I am not THAT little!" Koromo grumbled in response to her father's "children's seat" comment but nonetheless followed her parents to the booth in which the waiter had seated them.

After drinks had been ordered—a simple alcoholic beverage for Khelek, a glass of wine for Mitsuuko, and standard ice-filled apple juice for Koromo—the husband and wife both respectively turned to eachother as Koromo excitedly downed her drink.

"I am worried about her," Khelek told Mitsuuko, frowning. He took a small sip of his drink. "The work is coming on in waves lately—I don't want to make her feel abandoned by us. The overseas trip is next year, and it's mandatory if I want to keep my job. I do not know what I'm supposed to do."

Mitsuuko exchanged his frown. "Dear, we don't have to leave her. I can stay by her side and you can leave for the business trip—it's nothing to worry about."

This only made Khelek frown even worse. What Mitsuuko didn't understand was that he didn't want to leave Koromo—all he wanted was to spend more of his time with her, rather than focus too much on his occupation. He did not see any third option that could provide both paths. "Mitsuuko, it isn't that, not necessarily. I just want to be able to spend most of my time with her, like the three of us did so much in the past. It may be the school break now, yes, but I still have work scattered throughout the fourty days. And next year, when my work resumes fully, I will barely have any time..."

Mitsuuko, from over the table, grabbed his hand and rubbed her thumb on his palm. She smiled warmly and reassuringly before she spoke again. "Khelek, you must learn to have a more positive outlook on the future. That is the philosophy you have always held on to—and the one I have taught both you and Koromo in the longrun. Happiness lies in the small things—and I know that, if you keep a positive attitude, you will get what you want in the end. Focus on the moment; worry not about the past or the future."

Khelek could not hold back a smile. Without Mitsuuko or Koromo, his life would probably already have dwindled into nothing but work-related stress; he wouldn't know where he would be without them, probably a university professor like he was at that time, but nothing good and loving to come home to after a long, monotonous day at work. "Thank you."

"Mister!" Koromo shouted in glee, interrupting her parents' conversation. They turned to realize she was speaking with their waiter. "Do you have fried shrimp with the hamburger?"

"I'm afraid not, ma'am," he answered. "Well, not by default, at least. We can certainly fry them for you."

"Yayay!"

Mitsuuko turned to him and asked politely, "Simple spaghetti, if you will."

"Make that two, if you please," Khelek finished, complying with his wife's choice.

"Very well. Your meals will be out as soon as they can," the waiter finished with a smile, before turning off and heading down the isles.

Koromo smiled at her parents once again. She was clearly in a good mood—and knowing this made both Khelek and Mitsuuko as happy as their daughter was. "Thank you so much, mother and father! Koromo loves you!"

Khelek suddenly wrapped his arms around his daughter in a hug, and she giggled as he propped her into his lap. "Of course, Koromo. You know we will do anything for you, no matter the cause."

Mitsuuko also shared a gentle smile. "And you are always more important to us than any book or occupation," she reminded again.

Fifteen minutes later, the family's meals arrived at the table—fried shrimp for Koromo, and plates of spaghetti dosed in marinara sauce for each of the parents. After Koromo began to dig into her meal excitedly, finishing the last bit of her meal, a loud, triumphant voice echoed from across the restaurant.

"Ha! Hand it over, you suckers!"

The three family members turned their heads over to the bar area of the restaurant. Just beside it was a mahjong table in which sat a slim young woman with long, flowing purple hair dangling past her waist, shoveling money into her breast area—from the looks of it, she had just robbed three men blind of their currency in a game of mahjong. As the three of them got up and trudged off, defeated, the slim woman shoveled her reward into her purse, before she stood up, stretched, and propped a cigarette between her lips though she did not light it.

Koromo's eyes, unlike the woman's cigarette, lit up in glee. She tugged at her parents' shirts, using both of her hands. "Look! She is a mahjong player! May I go and make introductions with her? Please?"

Mitsuuko and Khelek exchanged glances. Before they could answer, however, the woman was right beside the table, apparently about to head off to her car. However, before she could continue to move, Koromo leaped on her shoulder giggling.

"Haiiii!"

"What the hell, kid?" The woman said, shoving her off and back into the booth. "I'm not a horse back ride, if that's what you're thinking." She flicked her cigarette back into her purse and glared down at the two parents. "You two have a lot of nerve if you're gonna let your kid pounce me like that."

"Koromo!" Mitsuuko exclaimed, latching on to her daughter. She then spoke to the woman above the family. "My deepest apologies, ma'aam. Koromo is young; she simply wanted to make some introductions. Perhaps we can make amends for her abrasive tone. Now, Koromo, what do you say?"

"Sowwy..." Koromo responded, tugging at her dress.

Khelek finished for his wife. "Good."

The woman scratched her chin. "Introductions, hmmm? Well, that's fine, I suppose. Do you mind if I sit here?" She pointed to the empty space in the booth.

Koromo bobbed up and down excitedly, and Mitsuuko grinned and said yes. The woman propped herself down on the booth and Koromo slid over to her in her seat in a fit of excitement. "Hello! What is your name? You play mahjong too?"

"Mhmm," the woman said rather passively closing her exotic, reddish black eyes. She pushed a strip of her hair out of her face. "Yeah. Eighteen year old university student, looking towards Business Leagues, though mahjong is more of my specialty than education though that still has its merits. I'm looking to becoming a professional some day or another. Sometime between Intercollegiate and Business Leagues. I studied the French language for awhile throughout highschool and early university years." She yawned and opened her eyes, stretching her arms. "Oh, and my name is Fujita."

"It is nice to meet you!" Koromo responded, still bobbing up in down in cheer. "My name is Koromo! I also love to play mahjong! Would you play against me?"

Fujita petted the girl's head, causing her to pout—the woman was intrigued by the girl's cuteness, if she did think so herself. "Slow down there little one. I'm afraid to say I can't play right now—I've got some business to attend to on my schedule. So, see ya." Fujita stood up and flung her purse over her shoulder, humming tunelessly as she began to walk off.

Khelek glared at the woman, disgusted at her passive, disrespectful treatment of his daughter, whereas Mitsuuko merely looked disappointed. Koromo, however, frowned and shouted to Fujita. "Wait! Koromo has one more question!"

Fujita turned around one last time. "What is it?"

"Do you really aspire into becoming a professional mahjong player?"

Fujita nodded. "Yup. I don't think I will—I know I will. If you don't work to follow your dreams, then you won't achieve those dreams. I know it; so, to hell with anyone who thinks I won't achieve that goal; rien ne peut m'arrêter maintenant." She chuckled after those last words in a foreign language, presumably French, before she passed out of the doors and into the night sidewalk of the city.

If you don't work to follow your dreams, then you won't achieve those dreams. Koromo, try as she might have, could not get these words out of her head for the rest of the night.

Khelek stared up at the waiter when he returned. In perhaps what was a little too rough a tone, he said "Check, please" and applied his leather coat. "Let me use the restroom." He stood up and walked off, hands in his pockets, to the men's room.

"Mommy..." Koromo began to ask her mother. She had a tendency of fluctuating between dubbing her parents "mother" or "father" to "mommy" or "daddy". "What is the matter with daddy?"

Mitsuuko sighed with a frown. "He's mad," she answered. And with a good reason, she thought to herself, in referencing to that Fujita woman whom had so passively seemed to disregard their daughter.

After Khelek returned, the three of them headed out into the night and back into the family car, heading out of the city and back throughout the countryside road that led into the path to their home, about fourty-five minutes away. Finally, after a lengthy silence of driving, Koromo finally decided to ask, "Is something the matter, father?"

"Hm?" Khelek responded, temporarily not knowing what she was talking about as he was too focused on the road. However, it hit him and he responded, "Oh. It's nothing important—I just did not approve of that young lady's treatment of you, that is all."

"Oh." Koromo said nothing more—she did not understand what was so bad about that woman's behavior, but she decided it was best to not ask. She gripped the bag of sweets she had acquired before dinner, though she suddenly lay them down beside her. Laying back, she let the embrace of sleep overtake her after an exhausting day with her family.

XXXXXXXXX

Koromo's eyes fluttered open at the sound of the wheels of the family car pulling into the driveway of their home. Koromo, stretching her limbs and yawning slightly, sat up and observed the familiar land outside of the window.

In the far off distance, wedged between two fortresses of mountain mass, was a brightly lit, fairly mild-sized city. This was not the city that they had just visited—it was far smaller and much more relaxed. Faint noises of the cityscape were audible, though it was nothing that would keep the bordering suburbia awake all night.

As for the suburbia itself, in which Koromo then lived, it was more akin to a peaceful, subdued country side due to it's nature. A long, winding dirt road dashed through the center and stretched as far as the eye could see into the city—cars and other vehicles came by often from that direction. The mountainous landscapes were, perhaps, the most notorious part; the town was covered on the East and West sides by massive forested mountains excellent for a short hiking trip. The land in general was full of greenery and plants—tall, scattered trees, crisp grass, and delightful blooming flowers during the spring and summer seasons. Though despite its quiet, subdued nature, it was still very much a suburban area, given the amount of other houses besides the Amae family's that were dotted along the land. Of course, it was still a country road area at heart masked as a suburban area.

After stepping out of the car, Koromo followed her mother and father through the doorway. The house was large, but not a mansion like Koromo had currently lived in. It was just fairly sized enough to fit a generally large family, but luckily for the Amae family, there was only three of them—just enough to fit such a sized house. On the outside, the house was painted a simple white, with teal-colored window shudders and a brown wooden door. It was all fairly generic and simple—nothing really to complain about, and yet nothing to really cherish thoroughly. Mitsuuko, despite her wealth, did not want to live in a mansion as she viewed it as an inconvenience, as did her husband. A normal, simple family home was enough to make do with.

Koromo's mother and father kissed and hugged their daughter goodnight. Koromo still had not gotten used to hugging or being hugged, as such displays of affection were rare where she lived—but from people close to her, she accepted it widely.

Koromo climbed into her bed on the second story of the house in her bedroom, and tucked herself into her bed. She wrapped her hands around eachother and prayed. So many people she knew thought such an act or belief was silly or trite; but Koromo could not deny in her belief in a god, or the Christ, or some kind of figure that supposedly existed beyond this plane of existence. Especially in her culture, where such beliefs were less than prominent, it felt out of place to hold on to such beliefs or ideations; but she did not care one bit. Her mother had always told her to follow what she had wanted to believe in, and Koromo did just that in reading passages from the Bible and seeking inspiration.

These thoughts began to blur after she finished her prayer, and tiredness overcame her; and as the Koromo of nostalgic dreams fell into sleep, the current Koromo drifted out of it.

AN: And thus ends the third chapter; and the first flashback chapter at that. Next chapter is back to the present (and will also bring another main character into their debut), but there will be a few of these flashback chapters scattered throughout the overall story. Please, give feedback, and thank you for following this story to anyone who has been. I look forward to next week's chapter. =)

AN: Hello all, again. I am back from my five day vacation to Montreal, and I enjoyed it very much, though of course without internet I was not able to post any new chapter of this fanfiction, and I humbly apologize. Thank you to those who are following this, and I hope you enjoy the new chapter. All constructive criticisms are welcome.

The following day, Touka, as usual, was home half an hour before Koromo returned from school like she always had. For Touka, and most probably Koromo as well, this was a relief—she had not wished to relive the preceeding night's dramatic situation. For now, she forced to push those thoughts out of her head; she had still hoped it would be forgotten about by the time the day ended, but deep down she knew such a belief was trite and absurd.

Today, however, her after-school plans were a bit different. Just recently, Touka had been pondering and eventually came to the conclusion that Koromo needed someone to look after her other than Touka herself. Hagiyoshi had been often incredibly busy, the other club members were carrying their own weights behind closed doors, and Touka's stress had begin to become overwhelming; and last night's crucial mistake was no different. Of course, Koromo was stubborn—holding on firmly to the belief that she did not need anyone else to look after her, as she was "not a kid"—but Touka knew what was right for her cousin. She could not leave her alone, but she could not handle her forever. She needed a lengthy break, to where or what she did not know, but just enough to relax her each night.

It was for this reason Touka knew that Koromo needed a care taker, not thought but knew. Touka needed a break, but Koromo could not be left alone; that was unacceptable.

There was not many babysitting services where she had lived, at least not that she knew of; but she had the phone numbers of individuals that would certainly help.

She knew one of them, vaguely by memory alone, at least. She did not remember the person's name or gender. She had acquired the person's phone number before as an individual babysitter but never bothered to call them until now.

Touka collapsed onto her chair and dialed the written number into the phone. After a few moments of waiting for the person to pick up the signal, there was an answer.

It was a male voice, a strange sort-of hybrid between smooth and rough, which picked up the phone on the receiving end. He sounded as though he was in his early adult years. "Hello. Who's this?"

Touka ignored the man's question and asked her own. "Are you an individual and or part-time babysitter?"

"Why yes, yes I am, ma'am. I am assuming you're calling me for a temporary babysitting job?" He said these words casually, but Touka could have sworn he muttered something along the lines of 'dammit' afterwords, though. He seemed rather passive in general, just as Koromo herself described her first meeting with Fujita as.

"Yes."

"Alright, you the parent?"

"I am the guardian in general, desu-wa."

"Alright, kid's name? Amount of payment? Your home address?" Touka faintly heard the sound of what seemed like him writing on a piece of paper, presumably to write down what she was telling him for memory.

Touka answered, and a similar exchange of questions between herself and the man continued for the next few minutes. After his last question ("Your phone number, miss?") had been answered, he promised he would meet up at Touka's mansion in a few hours after the school day ended for Koromo. Subsequent to this, he said his temporary goodbies and hung up.

Touka closed her cell phone and set it aside on the computer desk in front of her chair. She layed her head back and let her own hairpiece spin wildly, pondering and planning where she would go and what she would do on her first night away from stress.

XXXXXXXXX

In the meanwhile, Koromo again found herself in the final period the school day, having no choice to listen to yet another boring, tedious lesson which was far closer to a lecture than to a coherent teaching lesson by her sensai. Again, as usual, Koromo felt a deep run of sadness within—monotony in the current situation, and monotony when she got home—all again repeating in exactly the same fashion, the day after the next, and the day after that as well, and so on and so forth for the rest of her life.

Koromo was cut short and surprised when, as the end of the lesson neared, the ring tone of her phone suddenly set off. As it was only a vibrating buzz, it was not loud in the slightest, but still noticeable. She frantically pressed her palm against her phone pocket and raised the other one to ask "Sensai, may I use the lavatory?"

The man lowered his eyes into a glower at her. "Recently I've observed you taking quite awhile in there, Amae, so I am hesitant to letting you go."

Koromo sighed. She did not have time to argue with this man. In a polite fashion she added a simple "please" to her original comment, to which the professor agreed. Koromo sped into the females bathroom and as she sat down in one of the stalls she opened her cell from her pocket and held it to her ear.

"Koromo!" a voice echoed from the other end of the signal. "Is this you?"

Koromo shuddered violently—she suddenly felt the rush of harsh memories from Touka's physical abuse last night as soon as she heard her cousin speak over the phone. In a manner that was perhaps too harsh, she retorted "Yes, it is indeed Koromo. What do you want?"

Touka's next comment sounded as if it was artificially excited, but Koromo knew it was false cheer—just about as false as Koromo's own plastic smile was when she was forced to act cheerful in front of others in order to feel accepted. "I have hired a babysitter for you, Koromo, desu-wa. He will be taking custody of you for whenever he can, as I myself have plans throughout the following weeks."

Koromo was admittedly taken off-guard. This was all too sudden and abrupt. "What do you mean? Koromo does not need a babysitter. I am not a child." After she said this, Koromo heard the marching of feet filing outside of the classrooms, bringing noise into the hallways, indicating that school had ended.

Touka sighed. "I know what is best for you, Koromo, desu-wa. And currently it is best for you to be around others, not to wallow in sorrow all by yourself, desu-wa. We do not want to see you return to your lonely moon."

Koromo nearly crushed her phone in half at that final statement. How dare she say this? How dare she say that right after she had nearly beaten her last night? If anything, Koromo would rather be left alone than be with Touka only due to that one incident alone. Koromo, however, putting aside her boiling anger, responded "O-okay, Touka. That is clear." She hung up immediately after not giving her cousin any time to reply.

Her memories seemed blurry as she stormed out of the school and headed back towards her home. As the walk continued, however, she felt her uncontrollable anger begin to fade—her paced slowed to a trudge and her face turned from its then beet-red color to her standard white skin. Despite being fully Asian, Koromo was a rare case—her blond hair and blue eyes as well as her clean white skin made her look more of Swedish descent, though she was fully Japanese in blood.

Koromo felt herself quickly calming down—it was as if a ball of molten hot lava had just been cleansed out of her mind erratically. It was a minor comment—not anything compared to last night. Touka did not mean to upset her with it, and she knew this deep down; but it seemed so condescending, so egotistical, as if she was just rubbing the memories of what she didn't have in to Koromo's face.

And Koromo knew she couldn't express that anger when she got home. If she did so, Touka would react harshly as well, and she did not want to relive what had occurred last night. If it happened a second time, Touka would never stop. It was a gut feeling.

No. No no no no no. Koromo had to stop torturing herself mentally with thoughts of "last night"—"last night" this, "last night" that. Everywhere she looked, the past was all she could see, and she knew it wasn't the right or good thing. The truth was, Koromo could never actually bring herself to hate anyone—and she most certainly did not hate Touka, and like anyone else, she never could, especially since Touka was one of the few things she had left. Sure, she had of course forgiven Touka for last night, but that didn't make her less paranoid or more comfortable about being around her.

As Koromo passed through the Ryuumonbuchi gates and onto the pathway before reaching the door to the mansion, she stopped immediately as she reached the doorway. After being lost in thought like she usually was, she had just realized that she felt as though something was missing from her chest area—both physically and mentally she felt peculiarly as though something was gone. She shrugged it off, merely assuming it to be another odd phenomena in the sea of life—and headed through the doors and into her home, now on time.

XXXXXXXXX

Meanwhile, on the same path Koromo had walked out of school was a boy who was casually strolling all alone. He looked to be about the same highschool year as Koromo was in, or maybe a bit younger; but he was certainly a highschooler.

His hair was a sight to behold—it was utterly and completely dark red, as though it was dyed, and it was rather scraggly and shaggy looking as though he hadn't comed it for a long time. His eyes were a natural hazel, though overall the boy looked rather messy as his hair was as well. A dirty, itchy torn-up gray jacket poked full of holes and tattered with time and age.

Suddenly, in the midst of whatever it was he was thinking about, he felt himself step on something that felt thicker than the dirt path he was walking. With a small, whispered "huh" under his breath he bent down and grabbed the supposedly lost item and wiped dirt off of it.

It was a necklace with a blue medallion in the middle of it. The boy's eyes widened, not knowing how anyone could drop a necklace, until it occurred to him that it may have somehow broke off with age.

He pocketed the object and continued to walk—he would keep it with him until he could find the person who had lost it and give it back to them.

XXXXXXXXX

"...So who is this person?"

Koromo poured herself a glass of tea as she sat down with Touka on one of the couches of the Ryuumonbuchi manor. The whole building was dimly lit, supposedly in preparation for the night. Touka held a newspaper at her lap, which she had placed down after Koromo asked her question. It was now evening, twilight beginning to set in around the Ryuumonbuchi complex.

"His name is Makoto Hanabusa, Koromo, desu-wa," Touka explained. "He will be your babysitter for the following weeks, or months if you so desire. I will be going out of the household each night, possibly to pursue a part-time job, so I have left you in the hands of a babysitter."

Koromo placed her cup of tea on the coffee table below the two. "Why do I need a babysitter? Koromo is not a child, and you know of this."

"Because I know what is best for you personally, Koromo, desu-wa," Touka said with what perhaps was a bit too much of a harsh edge, though this was not intended. "As Hagiyoshi is also busy, I do expect you to be on your best behavior for your new caretaker in the following nights, desu-wa."

"I see," Koromo quipped having nothing better to respond with. She had no choice but to accept Touka's decision, as an argument with Touka would be pointless—but she was not fond of this idea, as she was hesitant around strangers and especially did not like last minute changes such as this one. "Why are you going out each night, Touka?"

Touka responded, "Like I said, I do not know." She poured herself another cup of tea, which was no longer hot. "My intention is to possibly pursue a small job to compensate for how dullard and irate my current state is." She held the cup up to her mouth and took a sip, though she yelped and spit it back out into the cup after realizing how cold it had gotten.

Koromo was about to respond again, still not entirely comfortable with this decision from her cousin, though before she could do or say anything in retort the doorbell to the manor signaled.

"Ah!" Touka beamed. "That must be him." She shuffled over to the main double door entrance to the household, wearing her slippers, before she opened up the door and let the new visitor inside the house.

The man, presumably this 'Makoto Hanabusa' that Koromo had been informed of, clearly looked as though he did not look too heavily into standing out from the crowd, in stark contrast to Touka's philosophy. He looked fairly normal; he wore a gray, fuzzy-looking jacket and an equally gray shirt underneath. Like most males, he was broad-shouldered but he had short, scraggly blond hair that only reached slightly past his ears. His eyes were a shade of hazel in color. Height wise, he was fairly slender and very tall—around six feet in height if Koromo could guess by sight alone.

"Hello," he said casually, his voice sounding like a bizarre cross between rough in tone and smooth. "Payment?" Touka immediately fished around in her pocket and handed him some money, which he pocketed and nodded in thanks.

Touka smiled over to where Koromo was sitting. "Koromo, come here, desu-wa! It's time to meet your new babysitter for the following weeks."

Koromo stood up and speed walked over to Makoto, putting on a smile and bowing to him in greeting before he did the same.

"So, Makoto," she said to him, raising one finger, "remember the basics. Bedtime at nine-o'-clock, no sweets past seven, and make sure she brushes her teeth before bed, desu-wa! Remember that her mansion is the one located next to this one, and..."

Touka went off, and Koromo mentally pouted at her words. She felt as though she was being treated like a child, as though she usually was. Things such as that didn't help her mental state at all.

After Touka was done with her listing off of things, Makoto nodded. Touka waved goodbye to Koromo and headed out the door, Makoto then turning to the young girl. "So the mansion next to this one is yours? Show me."

"Yes, it is," Koromo responded, still hesitant of this man. She lead Makoto into her own mansion via the interconnecting hallway and into one of the living rooms of that mansion. Makoto collapsed on the leather couch and Koromo propped herself up on a stool besides the light switch and flickered them on, bringing light and more life into the room.

Makoto turned Koromo's television on and Koromo was about to head upstairs to get some sleep before she informed Makoto of the building. "The kitchen is just next to this living room...there are aplenty delicacies in the refrigerator. Search for yourself if you so desire, I am not hungry."

"Mhhhm, got it," Makoto said passively flipping through channels.

Koromo's foot was about to take the first step upstairs, but something stopped her. Instead of lying alone in her own room in isolation, she figured it would be a good idea to get to know this man. He did not seem too old, maybe about two or three years older than Koromo, so becoming his friend would not be considered too much of an age difference or strange. With a glimmer of hope, she put aside her past negative notions of the man from before and approached him sitting down beside him on the couch.

"Greetings," she said to him putting on a smile that she attempted to look convincing, though it ended up looking as plastic as her grin usually did. No matter what she was feeling on the inside, she was finding it exceptionally hard to smile lately; mostly because most of those aforementioned feelings were not exactly positive at all. "Your name is Makoto, is it not?"

"Hum? Oh, yes, it is." He flipped through the channels on the television more until he finally settled on one. "And you're the Koromo kid Touka told me about, obviously. Right?"

"Hey!" Koromo snapped instinctively. "I am not a child! I'm Koromo!"

"Alright, jeez, calm down," Makoto retorted somewhat irritated yet still sounding glum and dullard. "Is there anything I can get you or something? Like a drink? We should get to know eachother, after all."

Koromo felt her stomach drop. She had regretted her instinctive harsh tone in retort to his initial comment. She responded, "Koromo apologizes. And no, I would not like anything as of now."

"Hm. Okay."

Makoto just seemed very uninterested in what Koromo had to do or say; as if he did not want to be bothered with her at all, and as though all he cared about was money and being payed for his part-time babysitting job. Koromo sighed under her breath, and she said goodnight to the man and ascended the staircase and into her bedroom.

As she lay down on her bed in the pitch dark, the only light being that of the twilight sky, she immediately closed her eyes and began to do what she arguably did best; reflect. Reflection on the past, the good times, the bad times, or recently. She mostly attempted to focus on the good, clearer memories—it was a warm place for her. However, she could not escape the more miserable ties of the past, which she had wanted to end so desperately but could not bring herself to escape. She had scolded herself multiple times for feeling so weak as to be unable and incapable of moving forward and giving something new a chance, but the sorrow was too much to bear at times.

She needed to push these thoughts aside as she sighed and waited for sleep to come and bring upon its grasp. Before she did so, however, she had mentally contemplated the odd phenomena that had occurred earlier regarding the feeling of being physically and emotionally empty around her chest area, though she shrugged it off and fell into an early sleep.

AN: Thanks again to those who have been following this story; I highly appreciate it as stated a few times before. Yes, Makoto is my OC, as is the character debuting with a name in the next chapter, so if anything could be done to improve his (Makoto's) traits, please give me feedback. Expect to see weekly updates resume again, as I have no known vacations or plans for the following weeks.

AN: The fifth chapter. Thank you to all who have enjoyed and/or followed this story.

DISCLAIMER: the lyrical content in the beginning of this chapter in NO WAY belongs to me. All lyrics belong to Trent Reznor and Columbia Records.

XXXXXXXXX

"I'd listen to the words he'd say But in his voice I heard decay The plastic face forced to portray All the insides left cold and gray There is a place that still remains It eats the fear, it eats the pain The sweetest price he'll have to pay, the day the whole world went away." - Nine Inch Nails, "The Day the World Went Away"

Koromo fortunately woke up the next day to the first day of the weekend. School had been exceptionally tedious and painful lately, so a break was always a good thing for Koromo to indulge in when she had the chance.

She sat up in bed, still in her pajamas, and yawned. Usually she took some time to remember the events that occurred in the past nights, and this morning was no different. It took her a few seconds to remember the bulk of the details, but then the thoughts came rushing back to her—Makoto the babysitter, the odd phenomena of emptiness, school, her temporary anger at Touka, Touka pursuing a part time job or something along those lines.

And so she yet again practiced her morning routine—apply her necklace, dress into daytime clothes, brush her teeth, have breakfast, and then continue to relax or sleep (on weekdays, the last option was replaced with "head off to her school" but for obvious reasons this was not the case with weekend days).

And so she began the first step. Scratching her head, she craned her arm over to the nighttable beside her and after seeing nothing on the surface counter, she opened up the top drawer just below the counter. The whole thing was a mess—unkempt and dirty and full of stuff and with only one out of them all that she significantly needed, that being the actual necklace in itself. She dug around in the drawer, fishing around for the necklace, but could find nothing; no shiny blue medallion or necklace strings stuck out or were visible at all in the pool of items.

She frowned. Closing the first drawer, she opened the second one which was a bit less messy and contained a few items. She fished around in it, and the most she could pull out was an old, grimy batch of stuck together toy soldiers from countless years ago that she had brought over from her uncle's house during her time of being imprisoned by him.

The necklace was not there.

Koromo began to panic. Where could it be? She had remembered having it on in school, just before she stormed out after it had ended, but how could it possibly have fallen off, especially without her realizing it? It had been around her neck the whole time, held in place firmly. How could it just slip off?

Koromo began to sweat profusely and searched every crack and crevice in her room. In the closet, perhaps under the windowsill, beneath her bed, under the desk in which she had looked, even checking under the heater in one instance...it was nowhere to be found.

Her mind was melting into a stirring, bubbling mess of jumbled and nervous thoughts, some of them even incoherent and unrelated. She did not know where to start thinking, if she had to be honest with herself...the one major thought was "How could I lose my necklace?" That item was near and dear to her, a souvenir passed on from Mother, whom along with Father was now gone.

What, in the Heaven above, would Mother think? Would she be disappointed, upset, angry, irate? Koromo had lost the last thing she had left of her family's presence, and it was all her fault for somehow letting it slip through her hands, and-

"Koromo!" a voice shouted from beneath the spiral stairwell. "Breakfast is ready, desu-wa!"

"O-okay, Touka! Koromo will be down in a minute!" Koromo shouted in return, trying her best not to sound stressed or overwhelmed. Deep down, however, she truly was hurting. That necklace was not just something she could shrug off and say "I will buy a new one" to—it was something so important and grand to her that it became unacceptable to lose, and she had the audacity to just let it slip by completely.

Koromo sobbed into her arms, yet shed no tears. She could have let them fall if she had wanted to, but she forced them back. She was disappointed in herself, just as Mother's spirit was most likely disappointed in her as well. And what would Father have said? His family name could have felt as though he had been insulted. I am sorry my daughter is so clumsy.

No. Her parents would never say that. But was that claim really justified after Touka had been acting recently? Koromo had been finding it so hard to trust anyone in the past few weeks; it seemed as though everyone, even her allies, had been turning against her in some form or another. She just felt so alone, so unloved.

Like nobody needed her, or wanted her. Not even in mahjong.

Koromo trudged down sadly into Touka's household, before meeting her in the same kitchen in which the two cousins had eaten at the other night. Touka was sitting down in the brightly lit room reading a newspaper with a headline that was virtually invisible from where Koromo stood. It wasn't until Koromo sat down that she noticed Touka's features this morning.

She looked even worse than she did a few nights ago. Her eyes had dark purple rings beneath them, worn out from what seemed like an atrocious lack of sleeping. Her hair was falling about in a filthy, unkempt jumble which looked like she had tried to curl it before hand but failed in the process. It looked like she was not the only one who had a poor morning, Koromo thought.

"Touka..." Koromo hesitated. "What happened?"

Touka groaned which came out as more of a wheeze. "I was running around doing errands all night, desu-wa," Touka explained. "Buying household items, progressing on paperwork, among other mundanities. In addition, I also got a part-time job as a waitress in a no-name hole-in-the-wall restaurant a little further down into town...I am so exhausted because I have literally gotten no sleep, desu-wa, in addition with the irate mundanity of dealing with so many imbecilic incompetent commoners. Makoto is coming again tonight, so be on your best behavior for him, please." Touka crumbled up the newspaper at the desk and threw it out in a ball in the garbage bin. "Are you feeling alright, Koromo?"

I also got a part-time job as a waitress. Koromo felt her heart drop a slight bit at this comment; Touka was living her dream?

She fought the feeling off. "No, Koromo is not. Touka, my necklace is gone. I lost it somehow."

Touka shot up, though still looking lethargic and dazed. "How?! Was it not on your neck?" She collapsed down on her chair unable to stand for any more time after that; she truly was exhausted. "Do you want me to help you find it?" Touka did understand how important the object was to Koromo; she had been told of its personal and significant treasury before.

"No, it is okay," Koromo responded. It really wasn't okay, though; she needed that item desperately. "I will search around some more for it; I do firmly believe you should get some rest now, Touka. Please do not wear yourself out even further, it is unhealthy."

Touka sighed and nodded. "I suppose I should comply with that notion, desu-wa." The truth was, Touka did not want to sleep; she did not like resting in the morning and waking up at night as it completely threw off her schedule, unlike Koromo who could sleep through a war in her very own backyard and only toss and turn about once or twice.

After the breakfast that Touka had cooked up—simply toast and eggs—Koromo headed back up into her room and closed and locked the door tightly before she lay down on her bed. She did feel rather tired, too, despite getting the normal twelve hours of sleep she was regularly accustomed to.

Suddenly a completely new thought hit her. Touka had seemed not only tired, but awfully depressed as well, something that she tried so hard to hide (specifically after her father's death) but Koromo knew Touka enough to see through that facade. Perhaps Koromo could head out on her own later today and buy a gift for Touka; something as Koromo's own form of atonement for the issues going on with her cousin in the recent weeks. Koromo, reaching into her desk for a pen and paper, took note of this.

XXXXXXXXX

A few hours afterwards, Koromo was about to put her plan into action. However, seeing as Touka had long been asleep and showed no signs of waking up anytime soon, Koromo beforehand had written a letter to her. As she lay on her bed, using her desk as a propping device for writing, she finally finished and put her pen down to read the finished note in which she had did her best at writing script as neatly as she could. The note read;

"Dear Touka,

Koromo is going out to the store to buy some acessories or groceries, and I am writing this note as a forewarning for you not to be alarmed if you wake up and I am not there. If you should awake and see this, please do not be angry as I will return shortly.

Your cousin sincerely, Koromo"

Koromo grinned a tiny smile, hoping this note would prevent Touka from overreacting like she had done in the nights before. Approaching her room in the mansion over, she heard her cousin snoring soundly from within the room (which appeared to be pitch black inside) and slipped the note under her door.

XXXXXXXXX

As Koromo stepped out into the noon September sunlight, a cold breeze thrilled down her spine as she began walking the dirt path leading out from her manor and further down towards the more suburban and city-like part of the town. It was at this point that it hit Koromo; it wasn't summer anymore. Autumn really was on its way.

As she walked upon the dirt path between the trees that lead for a few more minutes until she reached her school, she had made a swift left turn in front of the school and into town. It was certainly far from busy today, despite it being the weekend; a few cars were on the streets and some bikers were visible, but other than that there was not much life. This had never really been an industrial sprawling city area, anyways; just a small town with buildings, which only acted as a lead-in towards the quieter, more peaceful rural section of the area in which Koromo called a home.

Eventually she saw it; a convenience store wedged in the middle of two larger buildings. As Koromo approached the window, she read one of the headlines seemingly spraypainted onto it—"FOOD AND ITEMS" and with no period at the end to signify that sentence or statement had ended.

Seeing as Koromo had nothing in her pockets but fifteen yen and a staple (she did not receive that much money, as she had no job as of yet) she figured that she could be able to find something nice for Touka in this place. It wasn't like Touka wanted a yacht (though she very easily had the potential to act like it); an item small and simple but affectionate enough to show that Koromo cared.

And so she stepped in. There was two sections of the store that were supposedly divided by a yellow line drawn on the middle of the floor. One section was "ITEMS", which seemed to hold plenty of small household accessories on its shelves, and the other "FOOD", which, just like its namesake implied, consisted of nothing but delicacy, though predictably most of it was junk food. At the counter at the back of the "ITEMS" sections was an unkempt, messy red-headed boy who seemed to be maintaining the whole store by himself.

Koromo began browsing. Obviously, she began her searching in the items section and would remain searching there; what would some sleazy junk food do as a gift? As she searched, it was all really just small, fairly cheap household accessories like birthday or holiday cards or cooking tools. Upon finding nothing that would substitute as a decent gift, Koromo disappointedly began to turn around and leave for another shop until she spotted something else out of the corner of her eye.

As she approached it, she noticed what it was—a house candle, white in color, stuck between two kitchen ladels; this place really needed to fix up its categorization issues. Ignoring that, she grinned and picked up the candle and held it up to her nose to find that it smelled strongly of vanilla. She knew Touka carried a lighter around somewhere; having a delightfully smelling candle would spice up her room and Koromo felt that it was enough to compensate as a generous yet simple gift towards her cousin.

Koromo approached the boy at the counter and began to notice more of his features the closer she got. He was rather tall, and had incredibly dark, scraggly red hair that looked like it had come straight out of an abstract painting; never in her life had Koromo seen hair like that, though she knew plenty of redheads but never having seen something like that. He wore a jacket, despite it being rather warm in the building, that looked fuzzy, gray, poked full of holes and itchy though it didn't seem to faze him in the least. Koromo observed what was behind him on the wall; posters of superheroes and cheezy-looking comic books and television shows and movies. Nothing special. He seemed to be fiddling around with whatever currency was in the cash register in front of him and didn't notice Koromo until she put the candle on the shelf in front of her.

"Oh, hello," he said with a smile and a small wave (despite being just in front of her).

Koromo attempted a crooked smile; the boy seemed friendly enough, but like always Koromo had a difficult time communicating cheerfully recently especially towards strangers. "Greetings. How much is this candle?" She had hoped deeply that it would be enough; she didn't have that much money, after all.

"Ah, yes. That candle will be ten yen, ma'am." Koromo sighed in relief and fished around in her pockets before pulling out the money that she had. She handed the ten of the fifteen to the boy and he smiled and put his received money into the cash register.

He was about to thank her and let her go back to wherever she called home, but as he continued to look at her, suddenly something struck him on the inside. Without thinking, he asked, "Hey, are you feeling alright?"

Koromo, who was turning around to leave, spun back in his direction, somewhat surprised. "Huh? Oh, yes, I am fine. Why? Did something look wrong?"

Koromo's eyes gave him even more of a gut feeling than initially, and he answered. "Well, I was just concerned. The look in your eyes, coupled with your voice...they just seemed sad. Sorrowful. Heh, I might be exaggerating, I know...but something's wrong, isn't it? I just can tell. Anyways, my name is Kazuo. It's nice to meet you." He smiled warmly, eyes closed.

Koromo's head shot up, genuinely shocked. How did he know how she was feeling from sight and sound alone? She stuttered before answering, "O-oh. I am quite surprised you know of my feelings. Well, I am Koromo. If Koromo does seem sad today, it is mainly because I have lost my necklace this morning, and have not found it since. It is very important and dear to me..." She held her chest, as if expecting it to be placed there, but she knew it wasn't. She felt as though a bullet hole was in her heart from just talking about losing it, and she felt her stomach drop from sorrow.

Kazuo's head, just like Koromo's, shot up instantly in surprise. "Did you just say a necklace?"

Koromo lifted her head to meet his eyes. "Yes. Why?"

Kazuo didn't answer and instead ducked down under the counter and began scouring around for something in the unseen drawers below. Koromo could easily hear him shuffling around in there, though. After about thirty seconds he shot back up, smiling, and holding a necklace with a blue medallion in the middle of it, which seemed to be covered in some faint dirt.

Koromo's face absolutely lit up in joy with a tint of surprise; how could she have helped that from happening? This complete, utterly random stranger had just found her very own beloved necklace from completely out of the blue. Sure, it could have been any other ordinary necklace that looked similar, but its less upfront features (which Koromo often paid attention to anyways) were glaring to her and made sure that it was her very own. The rusty beads that connected to the centerpiece medallion, the old age, the light that was dimming but still shining...it was her's. She knew it. "B-but how...how did..."

"Huh? Oh, I just found it during a walk when I needed to clear my head from...something that was going on at my home. I found it in the dirt, and I've been looking for the person who dropped it to give it back to them. I didn't really expect to find that person here, though...I tried to scrub some of the dirt that got on it off but you can still see some left over traces of it, unfortunately, but it's not that bad. And I glued the two ends that broke apart from eachother so it could be worn again. Here ya go." He handed the necklace to her and she immediately put it over her neck and held the medallion centerpiece in her hand, fighting back joyful tears.

"Th-thank you, um, Kazuo...correct?" She tried hard to not sound awkward in that moment, but it was even harder not to. Her necklace was back with her, and safe, and she would make sure she wouldn't foolishly lose it or let it go again. It all felt right where it belongs.

"Yeah, that's me," he answered. "I work in this market for a few hours on the weekends. It's an awfully boring job, but it pays well at times. Every other day of the week I'm in school. Yeah, I don't get too much break, if you couldn't tell."

"What school do you go to?" Koromo asked, letting the question slip off of her tongue.

"I'm a third year at Ryuumonbuchi High School," he answered still smiling.

He really seems like a cheerful person, Koromo thought. Unlike I usually am. "I am Touka Ryuumonbuchi's cousin..." Koromo responded.

"Whoa! Really? That's so cool!" Kazuo said, genuinely interested.

"Ah, I suppose...but it is not truly really anything special. We are not praised for it. Koromo really is not that popular...I just feel there. I am not certain if I want to be extremely popular, either. The fact that Touka has the Ryuumonbuchi family name is a symbol of pride for her personally, though...I have never even seen you in school."

"What's your cousin like?"

Koromo hesitated. She could have done without a question like that, but decided to answer anyways, though she made it just close enough to a full truth. "She is...quite alright. Koromo cares about her very much. But following recent events in her life, she has been breaking down. But I care not to explain what exactly has been going on due to our personal issues."

"I can understand that," Kazuo said. He seemed to be quite the talkative character. "Oh, and here's my phone number, if you want to call me up anytime. I'd like to get to know you sometime around." He smiled warmly and scribbled a string of numbers on a small sticky note at the side of the cash register. He handed it to Koromo whom pocketed it without immediately reading it and exchanged his smile.

"Alright. Thank you. And many great thanks for returning my necklace to me, uhm, Kazuo." Koromo bowed from over the counter.

"No problem. I'll see you later, and have a lovely afternoon!" He bowed in exchange and Koromo turned around to exit.

As she walked out onto the sidewalk, she suddenly turned back around towards the building. For a few minutes, she just stared; thinking solely about Kazuo. Who was he exactly? Why had he seemed so cheerful...yet, at the same time, why had she sensed a hint of dread in his voice? And, furthermore, how did he know Koromo was a depressed individual just by sight and sound default alone?

She temporarily shrugged the feeling off, but did keep it in the back of her mind. What was more important was that she made a much needed new friend and the fact that her beloved necklace was back. She kept pondering as she headed back home, also wondering if Touka was still asleep or not.

XXXXXXXXX

A few hours later, it was nearing supper time, and Koromo found herself relaxing on her bed not planning to sleep but once again planning to reflect on the past day. Touka had woken up prematurely earlier, though somehow no longer feeling tired, and Koromo gave her the gift she bought and informed her of the boy she met at the convenience store and the fact that he returned her lost necklace to her. Touka told Koromo that she would be heading out again for her new part-time job later that night (after supper) and reminded her that Makoto would be coming to look after her again, as he would continue to do for the following weeks.

Makoto...Koromo was still not sure of her exact opinion on that man. He was not cold or mean or cruel, but he was certainly...dullard. Judging by Koromo's first interaction with him the night before, he seemed very uninterested and not bothering to care about what Koromo had to say, which hurt her a tad bit. She would try to get on his 'good' side again tonight, and if that didn't work...well, Koromo did not necessarily wish to think about that possibility.

After supper time (in which Touka had merely heated up leftovers from the night before, along with some mere sush as she had no time to cook anymore for the night) Touka prepared to head out, only waiting for Makoto's arrival.

"So, Koromo," Touka directed her attention to her cousin as they sat upon the living room couch in Touka's mansion, "you know the rules, desu-wa. No sweets after seven, bed time at exactly nine o' clock, and remember, always brush your teeth before bed, desu-wa!"

"Yes, yes, Touka...I know." Koromo was still not fond of Touka's short but still irritating list of night time rules she had compiled. It just made her feel so much like a child, which certainly did not help.

After Makoto's arrival, Touka left the building for her nightly job (not without reminding Makoto of her rules list beforehand, of course) and Koromo directed Makoto again to her living room in her mansion. Koromo sat down on the couch with him, and attempted to start a coherent and friendly conversation.

"Hello, Makoto," Koromo said smiling crookedly. "How have you been since last night?"

"Me? Oh, I've been okay. Struggling a bit with some stuff, but it doesn't concern you. I don't think you'd care anyway." Just like the night before, he started skipping through television channels on the remote until he settled on one that interested him playing an old-school slapstick cartoon.

"Koromo would care..." Koromo said meekly under her breath. It could have sounded false and fake since it was directed towards someone she just barely knew, but she really did care. If she wanted to befriend him, she would not only develop a care but also genuinely feel that care. "I have had issues within my life as well, if that makes you feel any more clear. Please, do not hesitate to ask. I wish to get to know you."

"Mhhhm, yeah, that's great," he said passively as he continued to glue his eyes to the television, more interested in the anthropomorphic animated coyote getting an anvil dropped on its head than what Koromo had to say about her state.

Koromo was definitely hurt by this. He did not care one bit? It wasn't horrible, as the two of them barely knew eachother, but Koromo still felt stricken by his words. She had told him of issues and attempted at empathy, but he just blatantly ignored it. Unthinkingly Koromo said with a venomous tongue, "You just do not care one bit, do you?"

"Huh?"

"About I. I attemped interaction with you last night too and this was the same behavior I got out of you." Koromo stood up and began to head up the stairs and into her bedroom.

"Wait? What? I didn't mean it, I do ca-"

He was cut short; Koromo was far up the staircase already and entering her room. He heard the echo of the door slam from above.

Looking back on it, he did seem a bit passive. He really didn't want to get to know that girl, as all he needed was money from this babysitting job as he was almost completely broke by this point in his life, but he did feel a pang of guilt. There was something compelling in her voice that he didn't initially pay attention to, but it became clearer once he thought about it. It did seem generally...upset. Issued, perhaps.

XXXXXXXXX

Koromo sighed, now in pajamas, tucking herself in for the night. It was warm in her room; gladly as it had been a rather chilly day outside.

Of course, she began her nightly ritualistic routine; reflection. Mostly, it was her first meeting—and hopefully not her last—with that mysterious yet kind boy Kazuo whom had given her back her lost necklace, and to a lesser extent, the memory of Touka and Makoto.

Her thoughts began straying off from what they initially were and into different territories; most notably the memories of her parents, of course, and what Koromo's life was like—and additionally, how much better it was—when they were still around.

Koromo yawned; it was time for sleep. She didn't usually have nightmares, and she hoped this night was no different. At the very least, she hoped whatever dream she had would be a good one; and falling into slumber, that dream world began to encompass her into pleasant dreams reflecting the past.

AN: If anyone is thinking there's going to be any romance in this story, you can just throw that whole idea out of the window. I'm not too great at writing romance that much, and even then, I've never ever wanted this to have any romance in it from the start...I just feel as though if I did that, the whole feel of this story would be ruined, which of course I do not want to happen. This is a story about friendship/family related bond and trust; not romantic love. Also, I wouldn't introduce the romantic concept in general because it's already too late in the story, I think.

Anyways, I'll see you all next time. This is the longest chapter so far, so I hope it was a satisfying one. Cheers to everyone who's been following me here!

AN: Chapter 6; the second flashback chapter. Dedication goes to Trent Reznor and Billy Corgan for their inspiration on me, and to anyone who's enjoyed and followed this story so far.

"Shichiro, look. You know what is the issue with me. I can't always appease to your needs. I have a wife, and a daughter, and I cannot keep up consistently with such pressures. Therefore, as of now, I will have to politely decline your offers. Of course, this is entirely subject to change, and mandatory to do so, but-"

"Don't give me that, Amae," a deep voice snorted over the other end of the phone line with Khelek Amae. "As your boss, you must appease to my requests if you desire to keep your job. The overseas trip is next year; by the time, you best be prepared for it. Therefore I require you and each of the other professors to attend your work during this break. Do not take this personally; you are not the only one. I've gotten calls similar to this one recently as well."

Khelek groaned under his breath. There had to be another way. "Shichiro, there must be another way. Why is this needed? No students, high school and the like, are attending any schools in the district in the following thirty-five days. So far, you have refused to explain your reasoning, to my knowledge, towards anyone involved in the school staff of why these meetings are mandatory in the following days. Throughout the past year, the amount of meetings have been almost overwhelming; and you yourself have said that the most crucial and important topics have been brought up and covered in this said meetings. Therefore, unless you decide to reasonably explain your intentions, I will merely have to decline your offer." Khelek exhaled sharply after his exhausting, long-winded monologue.

Shichiro was silent for a second; only the buzzing of the phone and his breathing was audible. Finally, he let out a long sigh and gave up trying to convince his employee. "Fine. You can choose as you please, Amae. There is no way for me to stop you. However, know this; while it is your choice, I still have the right to be extremely disappointed in you if you do not show for the following meetings. With that, let it be a note of forewarning." Without waiting to listen to his acquiantance's response, he hung up.

Khelek hung up the phone as well and dug his face into his arms, groaning silently. Knowing how disapponted his boss would be did not help much if at all, either. But he had a family; Koromo, if Khelek could not be happy with himself over the summer break, would be terribly disappointed and upset especially if he could not spend time with his little daughter. How could he just do that to his own daughter? There was his wife Mitsuuko, as well; who knows how she would feel?

Khelek took his arms out of his face and observed his surroundings. He was in his all too familiar, mildly sized office building in his house; laptop (in which its desktop was just a dull DFLL default background), his phone, and a printer and a few stacks of paper in front of him on the desk. A few pencils and pens as well as even some drawing markers that Koromo had let him borrow from her room as well-

"Daddy?"

Khelek nearly jumped out of his skin momentarily, until he recognized the relieving voice of Koromo's and he turned around in his chair and saw her standing in the doorway. She was in her pajamas, her hair in a jumbled mess from just waking up, and holding her chubby teddy bear doll at her side while she used her other arm to rub her left eye. "Ah, Koromo, it's you," Khelek said in relief. "You scared me."

"Ahhh, sowwy..." Koromo said with a small grin. Her father never failed to cheer her up. "Well, anyways, mommy says that breakfast is being prepared, and she wanted Koromo to come and get you, so I did. Is something wrong?"

She noticed the bleak expression on his face. He replied, "Oh, it's nothing important, really. Just some issues concerning my job, honey. I...can tell you the full details at the kitchen table with Mother."

"Okay."

XXXXXXXXX

"So what's for breakfast today, dear?" Khelek asked his wife, opening a newspaper for reading.

"Pancakes, dear," Mitsuuko responded to her husband's question.

"Yayay!" Koromo shouted gleefully. "Koromo loves pancakes!"

The Amae family's kitchen was small, but it was very much enough to fit a family of three. The sliding glass doors behind the kitchen table provided a beautiful view of the landscape scenery from their home; vast, grassy plains that lead up to the first hiking paths of the mountain, scattered with the occasional house or tree.

"So honey," Mitsuuko said as she placed two respective plates of pancakes smothered in syrup in front of her husband and daughter, as well as taking off her apron and sitting down at the kitchen table with her own plate, "how has your communication with your job acquiantances been going?"

"Daddy seemed really upset about it earlier, so he said he would discuss it with you too, mommy!" Koromo cut in with a stuffed mouth.

Khelek felt himself tense up. "Yes, ah..." Khelek said trying hard for a sigh not to escape his lips. He needed to tell them what was being urged unto him by his boss, but what if that upset his family? Sure, Mitsuuko was understanding, as was Koromo despite her naivete and age, but if he told them of the choices and options in which he could only pick one, they would be disappointed, not necessarily at him, but at the whole scenario. Deciding to just get it over with, he said "Well...the news is that my boss wants and is pressuring me to attend meetings over the course of the school break. He has never properly explained why, though he gave me the option not to attend the meetings, though he has told me that if I do not, he will still be extremely disappointed in me, and knowing him, that will likely result in me being booted from my job. I'm completely torn in this moment."

Koromo looked down at her plate of pancakes sadly, tears beginning to well. She then looked back up to her father. "Y-y-you mean that you-you won't be able to spend time with us?"

Khelek almost instantly shot up. "No, no, no, that's not it at all, honey. I would give over the whole world to spend all of my time with you and mommy—you know that. My choice has already been made, and that is to spend the rest of the break with the both of you. But it's his reaction that bothers me. What if, in the end, he is so angry that he fires me from my job entirely? He has always been an insensitive man. I do not know what to do."

"Hmmm..." Mitsuuko drawled, taking a sip of her tea cup. "Of course, you know what I have always said, dear; do what is best for you. This is all up to your choice."

"Yes, daddy!" Koromo agreed with her mother. "We both want to see you succeed."

Khelek smiled. Thank God for a supportive and generous family. "I know what's best for me. And what's best for me is to stay with you over the break. I...really do need that, I think."

"And what's more," Mitsuuko additioned to her previous comment, "I'm sure that you wouldn't be fired, Khelek, for such a small reasoning without some bigger power, even higher than him, in your job intervening. There's no need to worry, dear; focus on the moment. Live in the now frontier." Mitsuuko smiled warmly; that was her signature facial expression and one that always cheered Khelek up.

Koromo suddenly hopped into her father's arms and squeezed him tightly, giggling. Khelek grinned and hugged back, though underneath it all, worry still flooded him on the inside. He felt the warmth of Koromo's innocence; an innocence and ignorance to the truth of what this world really was that he wish he still had. Oh, how he wanted to be a child again.

XXXXXXXXX

"So Khelek," Mitsuuko said to her husband after the two of them finished cleaning up breakfast and Koromo had headed off on her own to her playroom upstairs, "any plans for today?"

"Ah, not really," her husband responded. "I initially intended to spend my day pigeonholed up in my office just doing nothing but paperwork, but once I talked to you two, that notion changed. Thank you, dear. I want to spend some more time with Koromo, so I might take her out later tonight after dinner to do something fun, perhaps get some ice cream or buy her a new toy or something. If that's alright with you, of course..."

"Of course it is alright, Khelek," Mitsuuko responded. "Anything to make her—and you—happy."

Khelek grinned. "Thank you," he responded simply.

XXXXXXXXX

After dinner—which was an exquisite dish of chicken breast topped with bacon, sushi bits, mushrooms and melted cheese—Khelek temporarily retreated back to his office room (kissing Koromo on the cheek beforehand and telling her he'd be back in a minute) and sat in his office chair, pausing momentarily to catch a deep vaccuum inhaling of air. After pausing, he began to rummage around underneath his office desk in the wooden drawers below, before he managed to dig out a large book from one of the shelves.

He huffed, blowing gathering dust off of the book. It was brown-ish black in color, tattered with time, but still fit to be opened. On its front cover page, Koromo when she was very young, even more so than she was at this time, had crudely written the word "FAMILY" in capitals along with a medium-sized cartoon-ish heart sloppily drawn next to it.

Khelek smiled and opened up the book; it was packed with photos—a memorabilia of the family's history. Photos from Koromo's birth, Khelek and Mitsuuko's marriage, and the past, even beyond that into before the two of them even met eachother, and when Koromo wasn't even a glimmer in Mitsuuko's eye.

Khelek skimmed through the photo book. Gazing upon these memories always cheered him up; relaxing nostalgia and memories made up the greater good of whatever happiness he had, along with Koromo and Mitsuuko. He stopped first at the images of newborn Koromo, during the very first day of her life. Little cute blond patches of hair had already grown in on her head, even directly at birth. She was asleep in this picture, eyes closed, at peace. It just put a smile on Khelek's face; all of it.

He then skipped back in the photo book about four years earlier, during Mitsuuko and his marriage. The chapel, him and Mitsuuko as the center of attention, the whole feel of warmth and love and nostalgia in the air...

"Daddyyyyy?" Koromo whined from down the hall, wanting to head out.

"Ah, oh yes, apologies, Koromo!" Khelek shouted back and headed out of his office and into the hallway with Koromo.

XXXXXXXXX

"It is such a pretty night," Koromo said to her father as the two of them traveled down the street in Khelek's car. Right next to the city beside them, a road protruded outwards into a smaller town, another suburban area connected with the country-like suburbs that Koromo and her family lived in. The twilight had ended and night set in; leaving shining bright veils of stars setting in and puffy, reddish orange clouds dissolving into darkness in the night sky. It was also a rather cool night—not too cold, and yet not too hot.

"It indeed is," Khelek complied, talking back to his daughter who was sitting in the back seat of his car. They sped into the town beside them; passing stores and malls and restaurants until they finally reached the small, isolated ice cream shop in one of the town's avenues.

"Vanilla ice cream cone, pleeeease!" Koromo said to the man selling ice cream in the brightly lit shop. He smiled and, using the machine, made Koromo an ice cream cone which he handed to her and Khelek paid the man for his generosity.

Koromo and her father headed outside, sitting on one of the small tables on the deck of the ice cream shop. The night was young and beautiful; the two watched cars roll by and felt breezes upon their faces, as Koromo began to devour her ice cream.

Khelek stared up upon the night sky. He marvelled at its starry beauty; a beauty that made him feel at peace and comfort. He turned his head to Koromo, whom was already biting at the cone of her scrumptious dessert delicacy. She's living in the moment, he thought to himself with a deep sigh. Unlike I am.

After Koromo finished her ice cream, and Khelek continued to ponder and gaze upon the nightly sky, Koromo turned to him, ice cream still left over on her lips, and asked "Are you alright, father?"

"I suppose," he lied, knowing full well what part of him she was addressing. "Just worried about my boss, and my job, and the future...it all seems like nothing will ever come together. I despise all of this stress."

"Well, Koromo is here, daddy!" Koromo responded wiping ice cream off of her lips. "I shall always be here for you and mommy, and you and mommy will always be here for me!"

I shall always be here for you and mommy, and you and mommy will always be here for me. You and mommy will always be here for me. Oh, if only Koromo knew what would happen in the year following...

"Koromo..." Khelek paused, before grabbing and hugging her tightly to which made her giggle. "I love you. So much. Thank you for all your support...and your hope. The hope that you give to me."

"Don't thank me, daddy," Koromo insisted with her signature smile, brushing off the comment. "It is the truth! I love you, too!"

Khelek smiled, and stood up. "Do you want to buy a toy, or something?" he asked his little girl. "I still have plenty of money on me. If that is alright with you...and if you want a toy, that is."

"Sure, daddy!" Koromo responded and grabbed onto his hand. The two of them walked back out to Khelek's car and headed off to buy a toy and then head back home for the night.

AN: I thought this chapter was subpar compared to the first five, and I wouldn't be surprised if you'd call it a filler chapter, however I think it acts more as an exposition/set-up chapter for the next flashback/dream, and what is to come later on in this story. This was basically a description and exemplification of Khelek's feelings and thoughts—to show that Koromo wasn't the first in her family to have these feelings about life. Still, if you liked the chapter all the same, that makes me happy and I thank you. Please don't hesitate to leave a review and tell me where I can improve on the chapter and the story as a whole; constructive criticism helps me a ton.

AN: This chapter is quite depressing (even for this story), so please make sure any sharp objects and alcoholic/opium substances are out of the line of sight. I consider this chapter to be the depressive, dark side of Koromo's personality personified and only a precursor to upcoming events in the story. Again, all thanks go to my followers and my two heroes; Billy Corgan and Trent Reznor.

XXXXXXXXX

"Because we don't know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well, yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that's so deeply a part of your being that you can't even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more, perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless." - The Sheltering Sky, 1990

When Koromo woke up from her nostalgic dreams from the night previous, she for whatever reason could not remember much of the preceding night before. She only remembered her first, and also hopefully not her last, encounter with that one sickly kind, friendly boy; Kazuo, was it? She could not clearly remember. Makoto...she also remembered something about talking to him and directing her fury at him for his dismissal of her feelings, though everything else was fuzzed out and blurry.

Koromo, still in her pajamas, tumbled lethargically out of bed and collapsed onto the floor. Why was she so lethargic and worn out and tired? She had gotten her signature twelve hours of sleep like she had needed by default, so there was no reason to feel this way, especially on a weekend day when everything was supposed to be about relaxation.

Pushing herself from off of the ground, she checked her drawer instinctively to see if the necklace was there. Thank God, it was there in its place; checking the drawer was now something that Koromo had to be extra cautious about, even moreso than initially, given the incident that happened the morning before in which she was lucky enough to be given it back by that Kazuo boy whom had found it.

Kazuo was his name, was it not? Her memory seemed awfully blurry for reasons even she herself could not explain. It all came out in her mind projector as a fuzz, a haze. She dug into her drawer again and pulled out the small, yellow sticky-note that had crumpled slightly in the process of being threshed around in her pockets and the drawer since the previous day, though she unfolded it and looked down at the words on the paper:

"KAZUO Y NUMBER:

090-143-8137"

Ah, yes, Kazuo. That was indeed his name. She had found it quite abrupt that he had gave her his number so quickly, but then again, he was quite sweet and seemed rather compassionate; and even somewhat with a veil of naivete within him. Maybe he just needed more friends like Koromo did. But what did the "Y" at the end of his name stand for? His last name's initial, Koromo guessed, that probably being the case.

Suddenly a splitting, drilling pain echoed throughout Koromo's head; and her lethargic feeling from before came rushing back in waves suddenly. She tumbled over to her closet, propping her arm up against the wall and gasping as she coughed wildly into her other arm. Koromo, unsure of what exactly was going on, grabbed some clean daytime clothes from her closet and took them into the bathroom where she hastily undressed and began to run the shower.

What was going on with her this morning? Not only had she felt seemingly random, out-of-the-blue physical pain (perhaps she had slept in a wrong position the night before, though again, those events from last night were blurry) but she also felt awfully depressive and unenthusiastic, seemingly for no real specified reason at all. Perhaps it was from the dream last night; the fact that the desire to be with mother and father again, except perhaps in Heaven (though that was a long, painstaking journey away), would never be fulfilled.

This was not new to her; Koromo had experienced abrupt, hard-hitting and abrasive periods of depression before in her life, even seemingly without real cause. But this morning it was particularly bad; and the aching, pounding, drumming physical pain drilling and droning voraciously especially in her head area did not help at all.

Suddenly Koromo's aching head was hit with an idea that was audible in her mind, even above all the abrasive aching; change the shower to a bath. A bathing session was much more relaxing and far less noisy than a showering session...it did not have that irate pattering sound, and perhaps her vision, head pains and blurred memory could be fixed with a warm, relaxing descent into a veil of warm, welcoming water (and, perhaps if needed, painkillers afterwards).

Stopping the shower's run, she turned the knob module in the tub to "BATH" mode and waited about a good five minutes for the water to rise up out of shallowness and into a reasonable height for bathing. Her head still drumming abrasively, she groaned as she stepped in and descended the majority of her body into the water, not counting her head which she did not submerge, and grabbed a bar of soap off of the metal rack beside the tub for usage.

She rubbed the soap all along her body and when she was done washing herself to a fair, reasonable amount, she placed the green bar back on the metal rack above her head and remained lying in the bath, thinking. Her headache was now beginning to dissipate, though faint flickers of it still remained in the far-off distance. But, still remaining so, why did she feel so horribly depressive...? The bath had not helped that predicament. She, for apparently no reason at all, felt utterly empty and unfulfilled, and a dark cloud passed above over her. Why did she feel so generally...down in this moment? Her necklace was there in her drawer, safe, untouched and secure. Touka was probably downstairs making breakfast, if not finishing it up already. She had just made a new friend from the day before, and yet...

She felt so utterly...confused, saddened, like she was of no worth to the world. She really did not need these periods of depressive mood, especially during the weekend.

It's just a glimpse.

There it was; Koromo talking to herself subconsciously again. She figured that everyone on Earth had that asset to their consciousness in some form or another, but Koromo wasn't sure if Koromo's own subconscious had any similarity to many other people, if any at all. Her mind, just like anyone and everyone elses, was a complex maze of tunnels and mirrors, and corridors of memories, both sandy and clear. But Koromo herself felt as though her mind was a never-ending war, a divine duel between light and dark; the good side clashing with the bad side, in an endless, bottomless pit of mixed, confused emotions.

Almost like Bipolar disorder symptoms, even. Was she diagnosed with it? It would make sense, but even if so, no one ever told her. And if so, there was successfully working medication for it. Hopefully.

In this moment, it was clear that the bad side was winning. Negative thoughts, corruption, the feeling of being weighed down upon by life's mundanities...Koromo shuddered as she stood up, applied a towel from a cloth rack and drained the bath tub of its liquid contents. Though the bath water was warm, she felt colder after stepping out of it. The towel helped that somewhat, but not much.

But what did her subconscious mean when it had said "It's just a glimpse?"

Perhaps it implied that this wasn't even the full-frontal assault that Koromo's dark, miserable side could show?

Perhaps that's it.

She stuck with that idea and she trudged over to where she had placed her clothes. Dropping the towel in a clothing bin, she dressed into her daytime clothes; her signature white thighhigh socks, a non-signature yellow jersey with smudged, blurred out text on it, medium-sized pants that reached down to her knees; just right enough for the bridge between a warm summer and a chilly autumn.

She crossed over into Touka's household and found her once again in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Touka turned around to face Koromo, though it was executed as more of an abrupt twirl rather than turning over, which Touka blushed at after realizing it. She looked far better than she usually did recently; her hair still unkempt and uncombed and in a jumbled, tangled weedy mess, but her eyes weren't drooping or slacking and for once she looked perfectly awake. "Ah, good morning, Koromo, desu-wa. Up early, I see?"

"Yes," Koromo responded meekly, before clearing her throat upon realizing how she sounded. She glumly sat herself down on a chai in the kitchen and asked dully, not bothering to wonder about what today's breakfast was, "How is your part-time job, Touka?" It came out as more of a statement than a question, though this was not Koromo's intention.

"I'm becoming more accustomed to it, desu-wa," Touka answered in reply. "I have overlooked its pay, but it does really have a fair amount of payment to its employees, desu-wa. Still, it is an exhausting part-time job, and an awfully unfitting one for me at that." Touka, despite being naturally rich, always felt it was a necessity to occupy herself with something, especially if it paid money—a little extra never did any damage. Touka, deny it as she might have, was the type of person who needed to preoccupy herself with other things besides herself. "Is something the matter, Koromo?"

All of a sudden Touka had somehow noticed Koromo's glum, dismal expression, and took note of it out loud. Koromo tensed up, not wanting to tell Touka of her dark, damp mood, so she covered it up easily, though it did not sound very convincing; "Yes, Touka. Everything is alright."

Touka saw through the verbal facade. "Tell the truth, Koromo, desu-wa," she demanded, pausing the making of breakfast for a moment.

Koromo tensed-up further. She did not want Touka to get angry, but she didn't want Touka to know about her feelings in this moment. She just could not talk to anyone right now, especially about how she felt; it just made it worse. "Koromo swears, Touka. I am fine."

"Don't lie to me, Koromo, desu-wa!" Touka said with a sharp command. "I can tell that something is wrong right now. Now, tell me."

Koromo was not going to deal with or tolerate this right now. Instead, dismissing whatever breakfast Touka was creating, she stood up and reflected her thoughts verbally; "Touka, now is not the time. I am not in any sort of mood to deal with an argument right now." With that, she turned out of the kitchen and back up to her room in the next building over.

Touka froze for a second, temporarily contemplating whether or not to follow Koromo up to her room or not. Eventually she decided not to; she knew that she wasn't feeling well, and it certainly would not help her to confront her about it—and Touka did not want to risk the possibility of losing control again, if the argument heated up, like it had a few days before.

Instead Touka merely sighed and got back to making her own breakfast; she would confront Koromo about the issue later. And really if she had to be totally honest with herself, just like Koromo didn't, she really didn't have any mood to deal with it right now either.

XXXXXXXXX

Koromo closed the blinds on the window to block the morning sunlight from glaring into her room, and she collapsed onto the bed, face first before turning on her cheek and adjusting to her position, even without putting any blankets or sheets over her. That warm, calming bubble bath had done its magical charm on her headache, as it was gone now, but she still felt utterly isolated and completely miserable. Lethargically, she flipped herself over onto her back, craned her arm lazily over to her night table, opened the drawer and took out her beloved necklace before pushing the drawer closed again.

Not putting it on, and instead merely holding it to her chest (beads, medallion and all), sighed and gave it a light kiss. Softly to herself she whispered, "Mother...and father." Attempting to fight back tears, she gripped it tightly as if to make sure she would never, ever lose it again.

Why did she have to lose all of it? Why did everything she loved eventually get taken from her? Her parents, the time when Touka was more emotionally stable and helpful, the mahjong club she had come to love so much, and, most of all...her very own happiness. It just wasn't fair. None of it was fair.

She missed her mother's wisdom, she missed when her mother showed her what life really meant, and how she could live up to those philosophies. She missed her father's complete, unconditional love, his hugs, humor and kisses, and the times that he would take her out with him to his job or something else he did. She missed the mahjong club, she missed Jun, she missed Hajime, she missed Tomoki especially, she missed Hagiyoshi, she even missed that part-time maid Ayumu whom she rarely ever saw. She missed, most specifically, the time where she could legitimately smile and show true happiness and gratitude without having to fake it or put it on artificially. She wanted clarity amidst all the chaos. She wanted the persistence of loss within her life to fade away.

She wanted to do something that mattered.

Koromo placed her necklace gently back into the drawer and shut it tight again, before directing her attention to the desktop surface of her night table, in which lay her cell phone. Before anything else, she wanted to call three individual people; Jun, that Kazuo boy, and Makoto. She had known Jun for years, so she knew her phone number off of the tip of her tongue. Kazuo she had just met and he had given her his phone number on the spot yesterday, and she acquired Makoto's number by Touka's word of mouth whom had written it down and handed it to Koromo just for cautious measure.

With tired hands, she reached over to Kazuo's number that he had written for her on a sticky-note, and Makoto's number in which Touka had jotted down in a much neater and less sloppy fashion than Kazuo's on a separate piece of paper.

"KAZUO Y NUMBER

090-143-8137"

She read it over until she had it memorized, but decided to call Jun first. A few days ago, in which Touka's overbearing had escalated into Touka physically striking her, Jun had promised she would visit Koromo whenever she got the oppurtunity, though she had not lived up to that promise as of yet. Hopefully that would soon change.

089-8143-6122...

Koromo punched in the numbers on her cell phone, and held it up to her ear hoping to get a response from the other side like last time. She laid back on her bed again and let the phone buzz off on its own until she received an answer from the other end of the communication line.

"Who's this?" Sure enough, it was Jun's voice, but her question came out as more of an agitated bark than her usual laid-back demeanour that she usually had. Koromo, upon hearing that, instantly began to have nerve-racking second thoughts.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all...maybe you can't do anything right.

No, no, no, no, NO. She would not have it. She pushed that second part of the thought out her mind and spoke hesitantly to Jun, "J-Jun...it is I, Koromo. Is something the matter? Is this a bad time?"

Jun coughed from the other end of the phone line. "Oh, hey, Koromo. And no, that's fine, totally great time to call," Jun responded, though given her lethargic and dullard tone of voice, Koromo couldn't tell if that comment was sarcastic or the truth, though she started to lean more towards the former. "What's going on? Has Touka quit it with doing you-know-what?"

"Yes, she has," Koromo answered though still hesitant. She tried not to let the depressive monotony of her voice shine through in her speaking, though it was difficult to manage. Hopefully the fuzz of the phone would cover it up. "But...Koromo is still not sure whether or not she will try it again. Once again, is something the matter, Jun? You sound irate. Tell me what is the problem."

"Oh, it doesn't concern you," Jun answered presumably attempting to let her voice return to its usual laid-back, relaxed tone of speaking though she audibly failed, still sounding beaten up and annoyed as ever. "My mom is utterly incompetent and my dad is as hateful and in-need of desperate anger management issues as usual and my older sister is a horrible brat. I'd say its mostly my dad who likes to bullshit everyone else in the house, always making up another version of the truth since he doesn't want to admit being wrong no matter the issue, hence why I'm so pissed off right now; but at the very least, my dad doesn't beat me physically or anything. I try to look at the positive side of stuff no matter how little of it there may be. But most and more importantly, what's with you? You usually call me up when something's going on. So what is it, if I may ask?"

'My dad doesn't beat me physically or anything.' For reasons unknown, this one comment immediately sent a massive shudder down Koromo's spine. Why did she feel as though it...connected to her, in some form or another? Her parents had never beat her or mistreated her, it was only Touka in a shocking twist of events who had ever hit her, and she didn't know anyone in which had that happen to them...did she? She was not physically abused by her parents, so yet, why did she feel like this comment metaphysically had some sort of resonation or link to her?

Koromo didn't dwell on it for more than a few seconds, or else Jun would probably hang up the phone if she did not carry on the conversation. "O-oh...it's...well...nothing," Koromo said trying not to lie, but let it slip out. For some reason, the depressive side of her personality made her more prone to lying; she wasn't so sure if that was common in other people similar to her or not. "Just...I desired to carry out conversation with another, that is all, as Touka is...busy right now. In addition it's also difficult to generally carry out friendly discussion with her, at least nowadays, as you so clearly know."

"Alright, I see. I promise I'm gonna visit you tomorrow like I promised initially, okay? Tomorrow's a free day for me since everyone but me is going to be out doing family chores, so I have time to come visit. But right now I got more family stuff to deal with; so I'm gonna have to go. I'll see you tomorrow, Koro."

"Goobye, Jun."

Jun hung up, and Koromo did the same before she turned over to Makoto and Kazuo's number. Koromo contemplated whether to call Kazuo or Makoto first, though she eventually settled on Kazuo; she wished to know more about him. Sure, Makoto's backstory was a complete mystery as well, but Kazuo was not passive nor was he disinterested in what Koromo had to say, like Makoto was; or at least how he seemed outwardly. As she gripped the phone tightly and began to dial his number, like a silent breeze of venomous air the sorrow of her life hit her again. Painfully attempting to fight it off, she held the phone up to her ear.

The sorrow of being broken, bruised, forgotten and sore, the sour part ofher mind said.

Koromo mentally spat at those thoughts as she waited for a response through the phone. "Hello? Is anybody there?" After a few seconds, someone on the other end of the phone line finally picked up.

"Hey, who's here?" To Koromo, the voice was not instantly recognizable since, of course, she had just met the boy, but it was clearly him; Kazuo. "Hello?"

"Ah, oh yes, hello, Kazuo. It is I, The Koromo," Koromo responded over the phone.

"Oh! Hey!" he replied, sounding as cheerful as he had last time; though still with that same unexplained dread and looming darkness in his voice, though perhaps even more so than initially in the store. His voice had instantly and audibly lit up when he heard Koromo's voice—when saying hello, he had sounded noticeably dullard and lethargic, though Koromo did not immediately recognize it. It was only after his voice lit up in which she noticed the drastic mood whiplash. "Koromo, right? I see you've used my number that I gave to ya. What's new?"

"Yes, Koromo is indeed my name," Koromo confirmed. "And there is...nothing necessarily new, I suppose. I just desired to talk to you, since we have just met and never got a chance to truly speak. How are you?"

"I'm...good, I guess," Kazuo responded sounding considerably hesitant. "Ahh...yeah. Yeah, I'm good. How about you? I'd love to get to know you a little bit more. I'm good..."

Koromo knew that comment was a lie. Already she could tell that this new friend of hers wasn't too great at masking the truth. She asked, somewhat concerned, "Is something the matter? You really sound distressed."

"No," Kazuo said though it sounded more of like a bark, which made Koromo jump in surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry...sometimes my voice uh, gets a little abrasive unexpectedly. It's...nothing, really! Nothing's going on with me right now, I'm totally fine. Seriously." With a cough, he hastily began to speak again before Koromo could respond, "So how are you doing?"

Obviously something was wrong with this boy, at least in this moment. She felt genuine concern, though when she was asked how she herself was feeling, she contemplated whether or not lying or telling the truth. Finally she mustered up the courage to choke it out; she did not want to make poor impressions on a new friend. "I am...not doing so well."

"Ahh, what's wrong?"

"General sadness and feelings of isolation...like you pointed out yesterday, except it is more overbearing even more so than normal. Anyways, I do not wish to dwell on it too much. It is rather an...uncomfortable topic for me."

"Alright. Say, could I visit your house? Maybe tomorrow? I really wanna get to know you more. I think it would help in person, y'know?" Kazuo asked. He sounded casual in that moment, though still with a small, slight tinge of fear and discomfort.

Koromo gave him her address and they said their temporary goodbies to eachother. As Koromo hung up, now preparing to call Makoto using the source number that Touka had written for her on a separate piece of paper, though before she dialed him she placed the phon down temporarily for a small break and looked back on her discussion via phone with Kazuo, her new friend from just yesterday.

It was obvious that the boy had some sort of morbid secret he had kept hidden, and the hesitant, anxious way he spoke, coupled with his denial which was an obvious lie, confirmed that quite clearly. What was his deal? He was quite obviously a rather cheerful boy; at least, he seemed that way outwardly, though Koromo was now beginning to have second thoughts on whether that were true or not. Then came having to tell Touka that he was visiting tomorrow, but that was a different issue entirely; she postponed that problem for later as she did not need that type of stress, especially in one sitting with some other issues.

Again, a soundless breath of stinging sorrow penetrated her soul. She groaned fiercely and gripped on to her head; it seemed like whenever she wasn't speaking with another person today that the misery and lack of preoccupation came back even harder. Suddenly, without any beforehand warning, a peculiar, unrelated memory suddenly hit her.

"So if you aren't a person, then what are you?" The cat-eared rival girl at the mahjong table asked this with a harsh tongue, attempting to look down on the blond girl before her though failed letting a hint of expected intimidation cross her face.

Koromo grinned in return to the opponent's question. "You'll soon find out for yourself," she responded.

'Person'. 'Person'. 'Person'. That single two-syllable word seemed to echo and bounce around in her head. Maybe when playing mahjong, she seemed more like a monster than a person, at least behavior-wise. 'Monster'. 'Monster'. 'Monster'. But, deep down, she had always knew that, even after all she had undergone, and just how damaged she had become, that she was still a person. She was not a cold emotionless unfeeling machine, though, at times, the misery could certainly make it feel that way. She was on the same tier as any person; the frail personification of human difference. Even sometimes she had tried to deny being different, as it was a sense of insecurity for her; a pass for being deemed as "freakish" and ignored by society like she had been so many times before.

But is denying it really worth it?

She stared down at Makoto's number, temporarily not remembering it even as the words were straight to her face on the paper.

"089-227-348"

She wanted to call Makoto for one last chance. One last chance to see if he actually, for once, had an interest or legitimate care in what she was going to say. If he didn't, she'd tell Touka that he was no longer needed as a babysitter and...well, that would be that, hopefully. But she would call out first for one last time. A resonation. She highly doubted it, but just like her mother would always say—"The third time is the charm". Hopefully that would be the case this time around.

And so Koromo called. After a few seconds, Makoto picked up—she still wasn't sure if he lived in his own house or in a dorm room for college—and he began to speak. "Hello?"

"Hello, Makoto," Koromo responded. Makoto was slightly startled; he did not expect Koromo to know his phone number but it quickly occurred to him that Touka probably gave her his number at one point.

"Hey, kid," he said casually in an aloof manner. He seemed less dullard than normally, however, though Koromo figured that was probably the fuzz of the phone doing its job. "How do you know my number?"

"Touka gave it to me the night before," Koromo answered though quickly irritated by his 'kid' quip. "Also, my name is Koromo. I am not a kid."

Makoto grinned, though for obvious reasons Koromo did not notice his expression. He was genuinely beginning to enjoy her presence; he found her manner of speech amusing and her personality intriguing. Maybe he had overlooked this kid initially. "Ah, alright, sorry..." He hesitated to say this next comment, as he did not usually consider himself an apologetic person no matter what had happened, though he managed to reveal himself. "Look, Kokomo...right?"

"No...my name is spelled Koromo." That was the second time today someone over the phone had asked her if they had gotten her name right. It was the first time someone got it wrong initially on first try, however.

"Ah, okay, Koromo. Look, I just wanted to apologize for the way I treated you the other night. It was passive and impolite of me. I guess I was overlooking it so I just wanted to say I'm sorry about that behavior. I just got some...stuff going on. If that's understandable."

Koromo's face lit up in both shock and a smile. "Yes!" Koromo beamed a slight bit too loudly, and instantly regretted it. However, she continued; "I mean...yes. And I do understand." A bit too much, perhaps. "Thank you for your sincere apology."

"You're welcome. I might be coming to babysit later tonight, okay?"

"Okay. Farewell and good day, Makoto."

"Bye."

And so the both of them hung up.

To say that Koromo felt relief did not even describe it. Maybe Makoto was not such a bad or bland or dully uninteresting person after all; she had sensed sincerity in his apology and forgave him simply and easily. There was a difference between happiness and relief; no true, sincere happiness had been felt for as long as Koromo could remember but relief was certainly a close, almost as comforting feeling.

As Koromo lay back on her pillow, preparing to close her eyes and drift away like normally, she did not expect to receive another phone call on her cell. Jolting up in surprise, she grabbed the phone and held it up to her ear again, hoping this would be the last call. "Hello? Who is this?"

A startlingly familiar voice echoed from the other end of the communication line. A voice that was somewhat deep, yet still falsetto-ish and female, laid-back, and most certainly wracked with the cursed strain of pipe smoke. Koromo instantly knew who it was as they spoke; "Hey. Long time, no speak, huh?"

AN: Yes, a cliffhanger. I'm a jerk, I know...though it should be fairly obvious as to who the voice is, but just in case it isn't, you'll find out in the next chapter; in another week or so. ;P Thanks again to anyone who's been following this story; I highly encourage you to please leave a review, especially a constructive one; they help me more than I could imagine. See you all next time.