.hack//Legend Of Twilight Bracelet Fan Fiction ❯ Where Will You Go...? ❯ Observation or Interrogation? ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

If you're reading the one-shot on FF.Net and can't see the song lyrics, come on over to AnimeSpiral (fumpalumpagust) , or MediaMiner (Arisa Niwatari) because it'll probably make a LOT more sense with the lyrics to go along with the text.

Title: Where Will You Go… ?

Summary: AU 'You're too important for anyone. You play the role of all you long to be. But I, I know who you really are. You're the one who cries when you're alone.' Maybe a facade can turn into a reality from which is inescapable. DITC PIECE

Note: This fic is a companion one-shot with the Fanfic Drowning In The Clouds, one of my other One-shots, although we have not reached this stage and probably, this conversation will never happen in the story, but just to, I dunno, clarify the beginning of how he first sees her. Whether or not they fall in love or learn loathe each other, I'm still not sure. I'm playing with the idea of having Alyssa with another guy, for a change. -wink- It'll all turn out good, twust meh.

Key

Italics - Song Lyrics

The Rest you should know.

Its long, descriptive, fluffy, humorous, angst like, dramatic, slightly action filled, mystery, and suspense. Lotta stuff in this one. I really, really, hope you like it because its way over 12 pages and longer than any regular story chapter I've ever done. I'm highly proud of myself!

Oh! -- Also, I realize the Balmung may be COMPLETELY out of character compared to what you're used to, but remember, its easier to speak and come up with admirable and wise quotes/responses/sentences/yadda yadda, even to geniuses, than in reality and face to face. He's still perceptive of course, and his words are still well chosen, only he's shown more... well... 17/18 years of age during high school, of which DITC is centered around.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer. “Don't own the song 'Where Will You Go', by the ever extravagant Evanescence (but I modified 1 or 2 words), nor do I own .Hack//Twilight. Muwaahaahaa, i really don't feel like jumping a horse, barging through the windows of the creators bedrooms as they sleep and forcing them to sign their characters over to me by threatening to send a swarm of purple penguins in yellow tuxedos and pink polar bears with green ties on them. It was already too time consuming to type this whole entire disclaimer when it bears no point whatsoever except to waste your time from reading the fic, of which I expect a review for! -smiles sweetly while two devil horns mysteriously appear on top head-

My sense of humor is drastically warped when I'm tired, my ego is inflated, full up on 6 cans of Pepsi, two cupcakes, a slice of chocolate pie ( I even made a mention of Choc. Pie in here!!) and uh... hot choooccccooollaaatteeeee... -drools- Bye all!! I'm gonna pull an all nighta, bitchez!! (its called friendly cussing, deal with it. ^_^;)

Oh, and Merry Christmas, -sings and bounces in seat like a bird-brained idiot- AND A HAPPPPYYY NEEEWWWWWW YEARRR.

Cause I sure as hell didn't have a nice Christmas after opening my presents. -tear- Ah, well, whats done is done. All I can do is bitch about it, leave looooong author notes, write a one-shot, drink hot cocoa, and ramble on to people actually reading this just to see what hilarious thing I will say next (there's a bit of sarcasm in there, I think...) and WISHING FOR PEOPLE TO REVIEW AS A CHRISTMAS PRESENT, or something. Dropping me an email would kick ass, or even IMing me. Its nice to know your out there! J/K

HAPPY HOLIDAYS
-Arisa Niwatari
------------------------------

I sat on the bench in the cold air, leaning back and resting my right arm on the curved armrest. It was nothing new; me watching her as she babysat a group of three boys and one girl in the playground. She knew I was there but she made no move towards showing a like or disliking of it any of the times.

Every time I thought the same thing when I watched her mother come by and snap at her on the way to work and she just simply sent a sharp and quick remark in a dull tone then went back to watching the four kids play relentlessly.

'You're indestructible. No one can pull you down, make you cry, lose your calm and collected composure that everyone admires. The legendary calm that proves deadly and powerful in every fight you've been forced upon.'

“The epitome of a strong warrior in a feminine body that no one dares to offend or touch for fear of marring their own skin by the whiplash.”

She turned from the swings and looked at me, her hair blowing fiercely in the wind and snowfall. She had heard me.

“Its all as simple as that.”

I was never one to try and get to know a person past the point of understanding them, but she left the reasons why I understood her unanswered with a lot of questions in my head.

I knew exactly who she was.

Because not too long ago… I was some form of who she was.

You're too important for anyone
You play the role of all you long to be
But I, I know who you really are
You're the one who cries when you're alone

Nothing was ever wrong with her. She could stand alone to anything that came her way and defend anyone she liked without being accused of having feelings for him or her or being their friend.

What Alyssa did needed no explanation. She was her own person and everyone seemed to take notice of it.

But that only provoked more attempts to find out what would make the emotionless Ice Queen break, and hurt what they thought would control them.

Idiots.

“You hurt even without them ridiculing you at the same time that they admired you.”

“Shut the -”

“Children are present, don't forget.”

She sent me a cold glare I only saw once before from when I had been blamed with shoving her sister into a pool at one of the high school parties. “Heck up. You don't know anything about me aside from the basics.”

I smiled, shifting forward to set my elbows on my knees and rest my head on the flat of my fists. One of her traits in public or in school was that she hardly spoke more than seven words to one who insulted her foolishly without facts. It hardly ever accounted for me.

I wonder why…

“Like what? You hide everything from everyone because you hear about all the pain they go through when they cry on your shoulder and think that returning the favor would break them?”

I hit a little button. One that made her narrow her eyes in a rare occurrence. I almost feel proud of myself. I seem like one out to seek and destroy everything that poses a threat towards me, don't I?

Honest to god truth, I'm not.

I seek to find what makes me drawn to her and how she's able to look me straight in the eye after I insult both her and her sister when the younger Nagoya accidentally says a snide and rude remark about me or one of my friends.

She has some immunity against my knowledge as I have immunity against hers. Its tiring.

“I have nothing to hide, Balmung. What I decide to not publicize, however, is another matter.”

“But refusing to talk about something, namely something of the past, is keeping a secret and hiding what you don't want others to find.”

“Not when it is not ones business to know.” She ground out the last three words, her teeth grinding together.

Did I mention that I had the ability to make her snarl when I bantered back and forth with her when we were relatively alone and without an audience?

I had her by a string of confusion as she had me.

I laughed out loud, causing her to send me a look from the corner of her eyes that said my death was the only she wanted at that moment. She was in control of the conversation at that moment, countering my words with difficult words to match. I preferred the control.

“Why are you even looking at Chris, let alone being his girlfriend? He's not your type.”

She sneered, a smile creeping onto her face that was barely noticeable. “Why is it of your concern, Balmung? And how would you know what my type was?”

I stood and followed her as she followed the four children raced away to the other playground on the other side of the block.

“Would you believe me if I said that your boyfriend right now doesn't satisfy you?”

She whirled on me, eyes narrow. I infuriated her on a daily basis in school. At a park in late February with snow falling and four preschool kids, I still infuriated her. It almost amused me; how I could strike up emotions that other men, people, teenagers, whatever, couldn't. The fact that it was almost always anger disappointed me.

“I'm not having sex with him, you bumbling twit.”

My smile only widened at her flashing eyes that stood out from her black hair and black zip up hoodie that seemed to light for five degree air. “I never said you were. I'm not blind to the fact that you're still a virgin, its obvious from the way you repulse the very idea of taking part in it. At least, not until you find someone you love, anyways.”

“You know I'm a virgin, then.” It was a statement.

She looked over her shoulder absently, her gaze flickering four times to each of the children, then turned back to me.

“I can't say I'm not pleased.”

“You're sick.”

“I like to be in control.”

“Go to hell. Why are you here?”

“I wanted to bug you because, believe it or not, you're currently my favorite person on Earth at the moment. Kill me for it, but I needed something to occupy my time, and you happened to be available.”

“You call me babysitting four Tasmanian devils in a park where they can easily run in four directions and piss me off in the freezing cold and snow available? You're as considerate of me as my mother.”

Her mother? Ouch, that hurt. I wasn't blind to the fact that she and her mother were on the worst of terms with each other for some reason. I'd stood in the basement with Shuyin more than once to listen to their band practice and overheard some fights as if I had been standing right between the two when they were up in Anissa's room, so I know from first-hand experience that the comparing was a true insult.

I didn't hate her; I was fascinated by her. She hated me and loathed my mere existence.

“About as available as some of the men after you.”

“Then you should know that my time, and myself, are taken.”

“But you like a challenge, so do I, and thats the reason we're both here. We're the only ones who will listen to each other, remember? We care but we don't show it. They don't care, but they act like it. Ironic.”

“Why am I suddenly your favorite person on Earth, as you put it?” Her face let up from the cold scorn and hate to an almost dull one with a hint of sympathy. “Your father home and fighting with you and your mother again?”

My lips tightened into a line. I'd forgotten that Cecilia had taken a fond liking to Alyssa and confided nearly everything she knew to the black haired, green eyed Goth with much confidence that it all would be kept secret. Word had never gotten around, but I knew from the way Cecilia listened intently to others, then sighed with relief.

I may not be close with my sister anymore but I was when we were younger. Old habits die hard, and some never change.

Then, there was the added fact that Alyssa had been dragged to my house on several occasions when Cecilia was obviously perturbed or stressed about something. By the time the girl in front of me went home each time, Cecilia was back to the annoyingly butterfly that was my little sister.

“Lightly putting it, yes.”

Her face remained flat and expressionless. “One of these days, you're going to have had enough of it all, you know. So will Cecilia. Where will you go then?”

I grimaced. When did we start talking about me? I couldn't bring myself to change the topic, finding it a bit too comforting to talk about it and let it out, after fuming for over an hour, and move on. “Find a place at a friends, I guess. I have no worries about Cecilia running to your house if she decides to bolt.”

“Is that an assumption that we will automatically take her in? We aren't on the best of terms, either, if you've failed to notice.”

I wanted no more with the subject, or her testing me. But now that she had turned the conversation slightly on herself, I found an opening. “Is that the reason why your sister shoves you out of the house and doesn't let you leave her sight? And why you always end up slightly red-eyed only when you return from escaping your sister?” I walked towards her as silently as I could. She had her back to me now, watching the four kids suddenly with sparked interest.

When I was behind her close enough to reach forward and embrace her, which I had no intention of doing, I spoke again in a low voice next to her ear, “But what makes you cry is that you know clearly that you always have to go back, or else you won't make it.”

But where will you go
With no one left to save you from yourself
You can't escape
You can't escape

Her jaw line tightened and her shoulders stiffened. I could tell it was more from the nearness of my body to hers rather than the fact I was right. Inside, though, she was probably oblivious to the physical tensing of her body and mentally cursing me. “What makes you think you know what makes me do anything?”

Because I know exactly the type of person you are. “Observation, eaves-dropping, spying, and occasionally, the occurrence of accidentally becoming a peeping-tom.” I was never one to lie. Truth was always what came in my mind and out of my mouth.

She mildly choked while on the hot chocolate she was taking an almost fast sip from, but still didn't turn to me; which was my small goal to achieve at the moment instead of opting to walk in front of her.

“How many… occurrences?”

I smiled. I had her attention full now. “Do you really want me to say?”

“Yes.”

“In the past month, or in all?”

“All.”

“Eight.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “The past month?”

“Five.”

She growled. After waiting for a response, I was expecting her to say 'Did you like what you saw?' but she proved me wrong and disappointed me with a lame one instead. “Fucker.”

I knew her better than that. She was holding back for some reason. Or had I actually wounded her? I took hold of her shoulder, admittedly surprised and almost worried, spun her around to look at her face. She looked ready to kill.

Not to mention the oh, so faint blush of red around the tips of her ears and cheeks.

I grinned.

I swear she almost snarled at me in embarrasement.

“I'm surprised that you don't at least have another string of curses to follow that, Nagoya. I'm disappointed.”

Her vocabulary seemingly returned from leaving the depths of her mind. “I'm so sorry that you're disappointed. But, with you being the resident narcissist, I'm sure you'll cheer up soon enough with your ego, correct?”

“Well said. But you don't truly believe I'm narcissistic, do you? I've not shown enough proof to be, have I? You know fairly well what a narcissist is from living with your mother for over seventeen years, am I wrong.”

“Fuck off, die, and leave me alone. I'm not in the mood.”

I wanted to take her chin, not forcibly, of course, I'm a gentleman, and turn her head to make her look at me like she always did; with or without an audience.

The way she looked at me and didn't judge me for my clothes, popularity status, looks, and what connections I had.

But she still defied my attempts to overpower her unmoving resistance against my friends and their never ending attempts to finally catch her and either 'fuck' her or successfully prank her.

It wasn't so much as because I wanted to bring her down, it was because I was interested in how she seemed to flawlessly make my friends, the top of the popularity food chain, make complete, and total bumbling fools of themselves.

“Sorry, but I speak the truth and of what isn't a fairy tale but reality not inside a book.”

“Yeah?”

She actually sounded wistful. I had to give her props, because for a second, she had me believing that she was actually going to be a little bit nicer to me instead of continuing fights with me. So, God help me, I repeated her because I hadn't caught on to the sarcasm.

“Maybe I don't like reality and try my best to fix it or change it.” She turned to me finally. I saw nothing in her eyes except a blank emotion. “There's a lot that needs to be changed, isn't there, Balmung?”

Everyone believes that she hides everything, she's as cold as ice, and, when you think about it and it comes down to it, as cold as ice was exactly how she felt. No one knew it because they didn't look the right way.

Numb.

You think that I can't see right through your eyes
Scared to death to face reality
No one seems to hear your hidden cries
You're left to face yourself alone

“Do you like to be alone?”

It was a stupid question to ask her, especially then, but it was more to unbalance her cool rather than out of curiosity.

It worked.

She sent me an unsure glance, one eyebrow raised as she lifted the cup of hot chocolate - which I was sure it had to be somewhat cold by this time - to her pale pink lips. Her lips looked more to be the color of her skin - light but with a somewhat deeper, more blemished color.

There was a pause as she stared ahead of her silently, her face suddenly open and showing concentration and slight frustration.

Had she, the one I'd overheard give insight to all situations who had thought deeper than I was sure most girls would ever think, never thought about how she preferred her company, so to speak?

She finally answered after her lips pressed together tightly several times and the wind swept over us bitterly. “I'm not sure. I've never really had too much of a choice, most of the time.” She looked up at me, no grudge or distaste of me in her eyes. “But I'd have to say I prefer being alone. Or with just one person, or two, never a crowd.”

She was a clever little witch. By all means, she was lucky enough that I liked her enough to where I didn't even consider giving her a snide response in return for the elusiveness she continued to keep up every time I so much as looked at her.

But she wasn't getting away with it.

“You didn't answer my question.”

She lowered her head sharply, as if banging her head on a wall, and a huff of air slipped past of her lips. Her hair shielded her face and I couldn't tell whether she was actually angered that it hadn't worked or amused.

She suddenly laughed - albeit short and almost refined. The kind you heard from rich people in their thirties and were strictly business with only class and nothing less.

When she looked up at me, she was smiling one of those smiles that meant she was amused that someone had caught her deliberate responses that didn't answer the question that had been asked.

It was still nice to see her smile as the occurrences were seldom.

“Nothing gets by you, Balmung, I'll give you that much.” She stalked off a second later.

I bet her sister would have bolted if I had tried to converse with her. I wouldn't though. Not my type or taste.

I followed her, falling into step with her easily, as she was about half a foot shorter than I. For a woman, that was no easy feat, which I admired, although physical. I was six foot, six inches, and she was six foot.

I looked down at what she was wearing and smiled at the simplicity of it and the clear message coming off of them. Well, the message I saw, anyways, with me being someone she probably didn't particularly wish to stay in the company of. Black pants, not baggy, but just loose around her legs with zippers, bottoms that could zip off and change the pants to Capri's, metal loops meant for straps, etcetera. The bottoms were ragged and worn from being stepped on and the black zip up hoodie was a quite nice touch. She had holes at the ends of the sleeves where her thumbs went through and it was long, but it look just one size too big unlike all the others she had.

While I probably shouldn't be saying it, but she looked as if she wasn't a typical Goth that went around sleeping with many men but one that was to be respected and different from the crowd, not needing anyone; completely independent.

That was pretty much what she wanted to portray, I assumed.

That was sometimes the way she tried to help out some of her friends, or people who came to her for help and/or advice. Sending them off on their own with a small cryptic sentence and an almost unfriendly shove.

Come to think of it, she shoved people away sometimes without warning. Giving the cold shoulder to whoever came up and talked (or tried) to her, or a glare that was more of a warning than anything.

I overheard Anissa talking to her friends, Jackie and Jami (I don't eavesdrop on purpose, I just walk in on them and happen to stop before being seen), I guess, and explained it was more to keep them away when she was feeling a bit, even the slightest bit, in a bad mood.

I really doubted that.

If she could handle a ton of insulting comments hurled toward her, pranks, being walked in on in the locker room by a guy and then shoving the guy out, she could handle a few little bad quirks in one of her friend's personalities, right?

That brought me to my next question: “Why do you shove people away sometimes then become suddenly nice, or even protective and defensive of them in another time? Its really quite annoying.”

Did I mention I had received and been on the other end of some of those moments as well? Only, not as a friend of course.

I took a couple more steps and she stopped. I turned to look at her. She looked up at me. For once, Alyssa looked genuinely surprised, her eyes slightly wider than I was accustomed to seeing them. They were almost always slightly narrow, looking around speculatively and as if predicting everyone's moves and thoughts.

A fucking Fortune Teller, or something. Wouldn't surprise me if she had a pack of Tarot cards in her room along with some tea leaves.

Actually… That's not true, now that I think about it. She doesn't strike me as the superstitious type.

“So I have mood swings like any other person. I have things called emotions, too, you know. I'm not exactly the Ice Queen everybody says I am.” We started walking again. Now we were getting somewhere. “Just because I don't want anyone seeing when I'm 'overflowing' with glee, not that I've experienced that at this school, or when I'm overly pissed and ready to break my desk in hall, doesn't mean I'm not happy or angry. And besides, most of the time, I'm just in a neutral mode where I don't smile because nothing is making me and I don't frown - or fume - because there is no reason, too. I'm not a bitch, even though it seems like it.”

I was smiling, my hands shoved into my pocket by that time to save them from the cold winds. I glanced ahead of us, at the three boys and girl, then back down at her. My smile had turned into almost a grin at that time and her nose was nearly wrinkling up. No doubt it was at the victorious look on my face, and the raised eyebrow that seemed to criticize me should have caused the smile to disappear, but all it did was make me laugh.

I laughed way more with her than I did with my family and about as much as I did with my friends. Laughing as much as I did with my friends probably wouldn't be that hard of a feat to reach if it was another person hanging out with them, but to me, my friends were comedians and hanging out with Alyssa - she would say pestering for her pride, most likely - was almost just the same.

Her responses were so much different than what I was used to that they made me laugh simply by the way they seemed out of place compared to my friends.

In a way, I reveled in the match and challenge I had in dumbfounding her.

She inched away from me as I laughed and both her eyebrows raised.

But I still had my mind working, deciphering her reasons a little differently than she would probably expect of me. “I don't think that's the reason,” I said when I was finished with my short, controlled fit of laughter. “I think its because you don't want them subject to you hurting them. I know it takes a lot of control to not just whip out the first thing that pops into your mind when handed an insult on a filthy silver platter, and it gets worse to keep control when its your friends because you can usually trust them with being yourself. Also the fact that you don't want to get close to anyone for fear of later hurting them on accident by doing something for them - whether it be against their will or shoving them to solve a problem themselves - and for fear of them seeing you in a different light then losing their interest in you, acting different, then you hurting them. Basically, you want to get away from all the possibilities of hurting them before those possibilities have a chance to rise.”

I realize you're afraid
But you can't abandon everyone
You can't escape
You don't want to escape

She stared at me in concealed shock with her mouth parted slightly. Enough to where air could slip through and disappear in white webs to the sky. Once again, I noticed her lips, only this time that they weren't chapped, unlike those of many girls at our school.

Against my will, my mind subconsciously thought of kissing her.

Treacherous thoughts seem to come into my mind a lot when I was actually with her. When I wasn't I thought only of how she continued to evade all my questions and answering just a few that made me lose my train of thought and bring up more questions.

“What causes those beliefs to settle in your mind?” she asked guardedly.

I ignored her and continued on even though it sounded as if I had finished, raising my arm to settle it around her shoulders, noticing the way she stiffened immediately, as well.

“I also think that you're afraid as well, of being on the receiving end of anger instead of projecting it. Of being hurt yourself. You've gone as far as letting your sister become the closest to you but no further than that. You're more of a vessel - ” her shoulders stiffened even more, “- to which people use that as an advantage and release their pain and anger - both by violence, talking, crying, pranks, insults, whatever - and you see that as enough of a relationship between people. You prefer being needed instead of the one needing. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'd say that your sister is the only one you'll confide in, and I mean honestly telling the whole story. Not the basic and impassive informing that you give everyone else, including me.”

When had I become the one answering my own questions? Nevertheless, I had turned to her to see her face and a flicker of incredulity and surprise flash through her eyes quickly. She still persisted.

“Again, what cause those beliefs to settle in your mind?”

“Am I right?”

There goes her strategy backfiring and disappearing in flames. One of us would have to cave if she continued.

“What makes you believe that you are right, Balmung? I think I can speak for myself when I say that -”

“You don't like being a vessel even though you can't help it?” I regretted the sudden, accidental harsh tone of my voice and my words when she looked in the opposite direction of me. I was in no way trying to hurt her, just merely trying to understand. I began to apologize but she cut me off. “Look, I didn't mean to say it so -”

“Would it inflate your big ass ego if I told you that you were right?” she snapped suddenly. She didn't look anywhere near tears, but she still had the hurt tone in her voice. It sounded exactly the way it did whenever she and her mother got into an argument that included her mother saying the final word. “You shouldn't even be here” or “You know you were a mistake so why are you still in this house?”

Something like that.

It pained me to know I'd made her feel even remotely close to it.

Her head suddenly whipped around, as if searching for something, and then that was when I remembered that she was watching Shuyin's younger brothers and sister; a task I myself had taken on quite a few times myself. I had grown fond of them.

Her voice called me out of my slight stupor of staring in three directions and seeing three of them to my satisfaction, and made me realize that there were supposed to be four, not three.

“Jared!” her voice called again. This time it sounded more like a demanding call than a beckoning one, and I turned to look at her then the direction in which she was looking. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Come here, buddy! You wanna tell me why you've got a bunch of snow in your hands and hiding behind the bush while grinning like a dog?”

Even I had to laugh. While it wasn't the best tactic books and therapist would recommend, it would do the job of making the kid laugh and wouldn't feel threatened to return with a huge grin plastered on their face. Which was exactly what Jared did. He giggled like a maniac and grinned like he got his favorite toy for Christmas and everything else in the world. That, and chocolate pie.

I doubt any other girl would have been able to pull it off without a few tears falling out of Jared's eyes mainly because everything about Alyssa rang superiority, authority, harmless to an extent, and a sheer lovable personality that took little time to get used to.

And when you were a kid, albeit four years old, and a boy, all that together, plus not being very strict, beautiful, pretty if you were a toddler speaking, and a voice that sounded like a piano when light, playful, and soft - it was like an Angel on Earth all to his very self.

And I'm a narcissist.

She ushered him back to the others and he happily obliged after she had finally gave him a kiss on a cheek for persuasion methods.

I saw her look up at me then over at Jared and a small, wry smile came on her lips. “Is kissing you on the cheek all I have to do to make you leave?”

I decided to play along. “No. Not the cheek anyways.”

She did as well. “Then come here.” We were standing a few feet away from the slight separation while looking for Jared, but I went forward nonetheless.

I made no motion to tilt my head down from its usual straight position and look down at her. Even at her height, she would have to reach up to kiss me, and so, a smirk played my own lips to match her wry one.

“I'm desperate enough to where I don't miss the loophole,” she said, finally, after crossing her arms and looking directly to her left as her body fully faced mine. “What will make you go away?”

I consider the possible options and settled on one that made my smile quirk up a bit more. “A date. A kiss. Fully, honestly, truthfully answering at least twenty of my questions.”

Her eyes shifted towards me but her face stayed held in the same spot and an eyebrow raised. “One of the three?”

“Nope. All of them. Or I'll be bugging you until you become criminally insane. We all know how long that will be, too.”

Her face turned partly sour. She was hiding her emotions again. “When? And how long would it last?”

“Probably a day at most. I'd probably have more questions.” I fired another question; actually more of a statement I was wanting clarification of. “You speak like you want to confuse people sometimes. Like you want them to understand but figure it out on their own. Bull's Eye or not?”

Everyday at school, she said something, whether it was to a teacher or to a student, she automatically responded with something that sounded like it belonged to a girl from the medieval times. I understood them immediately, but I always saw the way her eyes seemed to fade when the one she was talking to failed to understand.

We were walking down a sidewalk now; the four kids walking in front of us and talking like they were discussing the fate of the world, which probably meant dessert or a toy, to them. It wouldn't be long until we reached Shuyin's house and the kids were gone. She wouldn't have a reason to stay and not bolt.

I felt like I was suddenly becoming a stalker, but one with questions.

You're so sick of speaking words that no one understands
Is it clear enough that you can't live your whole life all alone
I can hear you when you whisper
But you can't even hear me screaming

“Bull's Eye. But I don't exactly intend at first that they have to figure some big, important, life endearing or endangering concept, like they think, but I just say it because it was how I was brought up. You can't say something with your heart on your sleeve, not in my world, so you have to disguise it or reword it so it sounds more like a monotonous, robotic response with no true meaning or heart behind it.”

I frowned. “But it still hurts.” We were standing at the end of the driveway, face to face, both our hands shoved down our own pockets.

She gave me an almost wistful look then, what I had though abruptly, she turned to trudge up the stairs. She replied faintly. “Yeah. It does.”

I realize you're afraid
But you can't reject the whole world
You can't escape
You won't escape
You can't escape
You don't want to escape

The way she turned sharply meant she was becoming uncomfortable and making an attempt to quell the tension she was feeling.

I had shot insults at her, but nothing but minor and petty things such as looks and friends, which I knew wouldn't wound them so much as anger them, but she had trusted me for a small part of the day.

Without me knowing it until know, she had indeed worn her heart on her sleeve the entire time. I thought she was hiding but she wasn't.

Watching her come back down the stairs, waving to Shuyin's mother as she called my name, I noticed her head low and chin tucked in to her neck.

I walked with her down the street, neither of us exchanging any words, and we were silent for at least two blocks. I wasn't going to be favored when someone spotted the two of us walking, but I didn't care. I actually wanted to be with her at the moment.

To be honest, I wasn't sure whether I liked the way she did everything discreetly, right underneath everyone's eyes without attempting to really hide anything. In some ways, infuriated me, and in others, it made me like her more, if not as a potential girlfriend or crush, then a friend I could count on for more than a few laughs and small favors. I wasn't even sure if she thought of me more than just another guy at school who threw disruptive and insulting comments at her to see if she was strong enough to withstand it.

I knew now that she wasn't and it probably tore her up on the inside, finally, after so many blows. The ones from her mother probably stung worse than all of them combined, and the occasional ones she received from her sister when they fought probably killed her inside.

But she still went like an Ice Queen. Acting oblivious to the pain she should have felt and wallowing in them when alone.

I still felt like I owed her something. A promise or an apology, I wasn't sure which. But the safest bet was the promise, so, taking hold of her elbow as she turned to walk onto her street, I did.

“I promise not to hurt you.”

It was the best I could do.

She smiled at me, one of those smiles that make a guy fall in love a woman and find the girl more trustworthy and comforting than anything else in the World, and looked at the ground.

“Thanks. But I know its no guarantee.”

And she walked off.

------------------------------

Uh.. YEAH!! w00t. Ok, sue me all you want. I probably didn't do the song justice, Balmung justice, or even my original character justice.

But did anyone else observe the way that none of it considerably and surely lead to a relationship or sparks of love/dating interest in each other?

Ok, so it hinted. I didn't want to solidify everything in Concrete yet for this one-shot and Drowning in the Clouds. Remember, Alyssa isn't a main role in DITC and, if I decide so, she might not even make another appearance.

Ok, review please!!!

Oh, and did you like the song?