Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ For The Love of a Friend ❯ Friend's Failure ( Chapter 30 )

Tite Kubo owns Bleach and the characters depicted therein. The characters in this story are not mine, mostly.

 

Friend's Failure

 

It was odd how the importance of time measured by hours and minutes had been displaced by the importance of events. When Matsumoto had been dying he had measured the passage of minutes by the fluctuations of her reiatsu, not caring to think about another means of calculation. Once he felt assured of her recovery other disturbances had pushed the observance of the passage of time into the background and now he finally checked the hour. It was late afternoon.

 

The interrupted night, the hours spent `relaxing' in the bathhouse and then the unexpected meeting had blended together the day passed without him picking up a brush to complete his own paperwork. It was certain to be increasing by the moment, but he couldn't find the energy to care. Any vigour he had drained from him, whether through his feet or head he wasn't certain and cared less. A dangerous lethargy was overtaking him as the import of his last interaction with Soi gradually revealed the hidden truth.

 

She had used the word compassion, but he was of the opinion she didn't know what it meant. During the meeting with Byakuya she hadn't looked at him, her lips had often been tightly pressed together and she had seemed distracted. The abrupt manner in which she left only proved that she could not stand to be in his company, not even with another Captain there to ensure nothing untoward could be said or done. Everything he had seen and sensed only confirmed his impression that Soi hated him.

 

That was the main source of his lethargy. Any hope of an eventual reconciliation with the woman had withered. After he checked on Momo, he'd find Shunsui and make him supply the alcohol and conversation as he became drunk and maudlin. They could talk about women and how they were ultimately a disappointment because they never acted in the manner expected. Women knew nothing about love; they didn't feel the emotion as deeply as men. A few tears and it was over, like it had never happened if they could be bothered to even cry.

 

Except for Momo and Matsumoto. The weeks that had been consumed by Matsumoto's moping had both angered and frustrated him. Words brought her no consolation and even when she did try to concentrate on work he needed to correct all her mistakes. It would have been quicker if he'd done it himself.

 

Momo was not acting the way anyone expected. At the thought of yet another inquisition about Aizen, stupor weighed heavily on his limbs. The man hadn't interested him much before he'd been revealed to be a traitor and now the mere mention of his name on Momo's lips and he was ready to bolt out the door and eat anything sweet that came in his reach. Not that he was fond of sweets, but the cloying sweetness of sugar satisfied some internal need. Whatever it was, it wasn't important.

 

With increasing lack of enthusiasm he walked toward 4th Division. The gathering twilight shrouded the heavens with a darkening light that eased his spirit as it echoed his mood. Tomorrow at least one matter would be resolved and he could reassure himself regarding the health of his lieutenant. It would be good to see Matsumoto smile at him again, and ruffle his hair, though he hoped she wouldn't hug him too hard. That was always problematic, especially the ability to breathe if she was being exceptionally affectionate. Idly and as a distraction, he wondered if her marriage and recent experiences would have changed her.

 

A near death experience, the revelation about the rape, the reunion with the man who had betrayed her, the beating and the rescue. Surely one of these experiences would have left some mark on her; but he hoped not. Some women would be reduced to a shell of fear and inability to cope with all those experiences, but he didn't expect that of his friend.

 

“Hanatoro,” he said, sighing loudly as he approached the man. “How's Lieutenant Hinamori?”

 

“Not much has changed. Lieutenant Izuru was here earlier, visiting her. She seems very happy chatting with him about when they were at the Academy. That's all they seem to talk about, now.” Hanatoro smiled gently as he frowned.

 

“The past is safer than the present,” Toshiro said, meaning the words.

 

“But none of us can live there,” Captain Unohana said, making Toshiro start at her voice. “Here to visit Momo again, Captain Hitsugaya? I haven't seen Captain Fong since her earlier visit.”

 

Toshiro turned and stared at the medical officer. Why was she mentioning Soi to him? He hoped she wouldn't say anything about the linen room, but why would she? Deciding to answer the question he said, “Captain Fong's movements are not my interest. I thought I would see if Momo was well.”

 

“You have to tell her, Captain, about her condition. She should have been informed by now and it is only because you asked that I keep matters secret that she still doesn't know,” her words were matched by a fixed and intense gaze.

 

Feeling under pressure from her gaze and words he wriggled slightly and said, “Tomorrow. I'll tell her tomorrow.”

 

A small nod indicated that she accepted his words as if they were a promise. “I am positive you will, Captain. And if you do not, I will leave orders that she is told before the day is over.” Her departure was as quiet as her arrival.

 

As he walked with decreasing speed toward the room, he pondered the impacts of the departures. Four Captains would be departing, with their lieutenants, on the following morning. That would leave the Seireitei in its lowest defensive position since the sudden departure of those captains he'd heard about. 7 Captains from 13 meant they would have to be more vigilant and careful than before. Was this really the right time to divide their already depleted forces? The War was approaching and perhaps this fragmentation was exactly what Aizen had hoped for; a better chance to divide the power even more. There was no doubt in Toshiro's mind that Aizen wouldn't have permitted this to happen to his own soldiers, but he didn't need to factor in misplaced loyalty, or that was exactly what he had done in his abduction of that girl.

 

A grim smile fixed itself onto Toshiro's face. The traitors knew exactly what they were doing. Each move had been manufactured to keep the Seireitei off balance; the Captains concentrating on immediate matters rather than long term plans. Aizen may have moved slowly, but each step of treachery had been examined and judged before he had permitted his foot to move forward. The girl, Ichigo, the friendships that had been formed so recently were a gift to the man, one which he gladly accepted and acted upon. Did the man plan his meals with this amount of forethought and intensity? And the other activities in his life?

 

He'd made one or two errors, or were they errors? Sending Ichimaru to kidnap Ran. That had been a tactical mistake; hadn't it? He couldn't have known about the recently formed romantic entanglement and marriage. That would have been impossible; unless a spy remained in the Seireitei, conveying information to the traitors. The invasion, the timing, the abduction. Swallowing heavily he tried to ignore the dread that was echoing through his bones.

 

The man had spent years laying his plans and had obviously spent his time in the Seireitei observing the people there. A number of deaths could be attributed to him, including that of the 13th Divisions lieutenant and his wife. He had used that relationship to remove two threats while forcing guilt and grief on a Division already weakened by the health of its Captain. Had he planned on the removal of Yoruichi Shihoin, Tessai Tsukabashi and Kisuke Urahara at the same time that the other captains had disappeared? Since no one had replaced either the Kido Corps master or his assistant, much had been lost by this neglect. No one remained who knew all 99 forms of kido and many struggled to gain the correct techniques. Only a handful of the spells were in common usage.

 

While he hadn't been present when so many captain positions had been vacant, he'd heard stories and rumours. He'd at one time thought of asking Soi to tell him what it had been like in the immediate aftermath. Then he realised that would mean reminding her of Yoruichi, which he tried not to do. It had taken some time to fill the vacancies; that much he did know from a few comments he'd heard. Aizen had been promoted, but there had been stop gap measures taken. At that time there was not a major threat like the Winter War looming. Or had the Seireitei been facing another threat at the time which no one had noticed? Now it was obvious it had been facing one, but the threat was internal and the normal vigilance would have been relaxed due to the lack of direction. In retrospect it seemed clear that the sudden disappearance of so many Shinigami and Captains within a few days had not been a tragic accident. It had been part of a carefully constructed plan to manoeuvre the traitors into the necessary positions required for this series of events.

 

What could he do? If he tried speaking to the Old Man the chances were his analysis would be dismissed. He knew that Captain Ukitake might listen, but after recent events he felt disinclined to spend any more time in 13th Division. The last few occasions he had visited had promoted a feeling of unease each time he approached the place. Shunsui might listen, but would he take any action, despondent as he was from being discarded by Isane?

 

With a jolt, Toshiro realised it hadn't registered on him each time he had seen Isane recently. He had not observed her closely to see if she was suffering from the separation. But given the circumstances of their recent meetings he didn't think the 4th Division lieutenant had her mind fixed on anything but the problems resulting from Kiyone's brief liaison with Byakuya. Today she had seemed tremendously distracted, but that was possibly due to her imminent departure to Hueco Mundo and the confrontation. Even though he was in 4th Division he had no impulse to follow the matter up. It was not his business if his friend had lost the woman who obviously meant a lot to him. She wouldn't welcome the interference and he wouldn't know what to say.

 

All these unresolved and unhappy loves were creating an anxious and urgent feeling in the Seireitei. Even the recent marriage had been interrupted by the major issue of the abduction and near death of the bride. Was there a curse that prevented any happy solutions to these apparently ill formed relationships? It would explain his tempestuous and unhappy entanglement with Soi.

 

All this thinking had made him stop and he found he was outside the room which contained his friend. “Go and see Momo,” he instructed himself. “This is getting me nowhere.”

 

He entered the room and noticed that his friend was once more asleep. Her hands were resting gently and protectively on her stomach. “Does she know? Is it instinct?” he asked himself.

 

Not wanting to contemplate her response to the news he would be imparting tomorrow, he glanced around the room. A large basket stood on a table. Curious, he walked close, noticing the ugly and garish decoration the bedecked the exterior. Yellow and purple! Obviously the person who chose this had little taste. Purple? Could it be from Kenpachi? Deep purple was the colour he favoured, but why would he send a present to Momo? He barely knew her, from what Toshiro could remember. He would have been to busy to arrange something like this, unless he'd sent it to Matsumoto who gave it to Momo, but that still seemed wrong. It was not an action he would expect the 11th Division Captain to make. The colour wasn't deep purple, nor was it the royal purple that Yamamoto favoured, but he was certain he'd seen that colour purple previously. It had to be significant! As he looked at it he decided it was more mauve than purple. Not his favourite colour.

 

Yellow. Yellow reminded him of the sash Soi wore. The sash he'd undone with such pleasure and anticipation. If anything he was certain that she would never send a present to Momo, unless it contained something harmful. The disdain with which she spoke of his friend was proof she would not send any gift. Beside that, the overdone and tasteless decorations bore no resemblance to her austere likes. As he examined it closer he noticed strange figures. Some looked like bad representations of gods, good luck charms and rings. If someone had no taste whatsoever, they might decorate a present like this for a prospective bride.

 

Did that mean someone was interested in marrying Momo? The thought made his heart rest considerably easier in his chest as he looked at the contents. Bananas! Why did it have to contain bananas? When he saw them he thought of Soi and the vicious insult he'd delivered when he was angry. Pomegranates, lychees and tomatoes? Why would someone send tomatoes in a basket like this? Did he see some lotus root also? It was an expensive present and apart from the fruit, there was a toy black cat lying on top. It was a cute representation, but again it made him think of Soi.

 

All together it was a strange item to find in his sick friend's room. His ears picked up the crinkle of paper and he noticed that, without thinking about it, he'd picked up the card that accompanied the gift. Not looking at the envelope he read the inscription in the card and grimaced. `A Secret Admirer'. But why call Momo a Captain? Feeling a surge of alarm, he looked at the envelope and saw the words written there that confirmed his worst fears. It was addressed to Captain Soi Fong.

 

He stared at the words and unformed words and unfinished ideas flowed through his mind. Bananas. Tokens of luck, fertility and marriage. That was what decorated the basket. That with the message made an unpalatable fact very clear. He was not the only person interested in Soi. At first he felt startled: her attitude did not invite suitors, but she would be a good match for any Shinigami.

 

An ironic smile touched his lips. At least he knew the basket was not from Zaraki or Captain Kuchiki. The yellow decorations now made sense, but the mauve confused him. Not Zaraki, not the Old Man. He searched his mind again for that elusive mauve item he'd seen someone wearing. Again the image flitted at the edge of his consciousness only to dissipate as soon as he tried to examine it closely. Someone was courting Soi, with intent to marry her, and from the contents of the basket, the man wanted children. Whoever had sent the present had money.

 

Then another thought struck him. Why was the basket here, in Momo's room. As the truth hit him he sank into a convenient chair. Soi thought he'd sent it to her! The bananas! No wonder she had been so cool and wished to escape from his presence as soon as she could. A black cat! Another blow to her self esteem and a reminder of her troubled past. If she believed he sent it to her, he would never be able to recover from this disaster!

 

Soi had been restrained when she'd hurt him after the last Captain's meeting, assuming this basket had been received before then. He would never have sent her something like this, except he'd sort of considered it. She'd given the basket to Momo in a hostile gesture, obviously indicating that as she believed he'd sent the basket, she would give it to the woman he'd mentioned he'd considered marrying. Rubbing his finger along his top lip it seemed as if he was doomed. Unless he could prove the identity of the `Secret Admirer' he would never be able to recover from this debacle. He may as well marry Momo and live miserably ever after, satisfying duty but denying love.

 

Irritably he left and returned to his quarters. In bed sleep eluded him. Each of his recent meetings with Soi played through his mind and their conversations now seemed strangely disjointed. Almost as if they were talking about different things, while the flow appeared normal. Her reaction when he'd told her that their relationship wouldn't go away had been extreme. Was there a possibility that there was another factor at work of which he was still unaware? Did she have an attachment to one of the traitors? He shook his head, dismissing the notion. That didn't work. Nor did it seem likely that she'd heard Yoruichi was returning because that news would have spread through the gossip infested Seireitei like an airborne disease.

 

He turned over, trying to find a place in the bed that seemed comfortable. It didn't help. Turning again he pushed the hair off his forehead and then rubbed his face against the sheet. It didn't help. The air felt heavy and he knew he would long for morning to arrive. When morning came he would meet with Matsumoto and ask her advice. An irritating itch made him scratch his leg. He'd sort out the issue with Momo and maybe arrive at a solution of how to resolve the current dilemma he had regarding Soi. Now his other leg itched. Above all else, he wanted to at least recover something, even if it was a pale friendship that could never be rekindled to the passion. For some reason his knee felt uncomfortable, and he tried moving it until it seemed okay.

 

Bugger that! He wanted the passion. After experiencing that with Soi he'd never be content with a stupid friendship that would mean he'd have to watch the woman he wanted with other people. How could he be content with that? He'd want to kick whoever it was, hard and he'd end up freezing them with his glare. Foolish he might be, but not so foolish as to expect Soi to eschew all possibilities of romance after failing with him and Yoruichi. His knee began protesting again and he flexed it a few times to work out any tension. Then his elbow was twisted. Finally a cramp formed in his foot.

 

Frustrated at all the minor irritations he rose from his bed and remembering his earlier resolve, he decided to visit Shunsui. If the man was asleep, he'd wake him and they could drink and drink a bit more. Lying in a lonely bed, staring at a ceiling was unpleasant and with the recent events sprinting through his mind he needed distraction for a space.

 

Arriving at his friend's quarters, he observed that there was a light showing and a slurred voice spoke from within. “Unless you've got sake, go away.”

 

Just by chance, and because he'd guessed the conditions of entry, he pushed open the door and showed the present he was carrying.

 

“Come in, pour a drink and join me in mournful silence,” Shunsui said. The smile he normally wore was lopsided and the lines around his eyes were more acute. He pushed a cup toward Toshiro and held out his own. As soon as it was full he gulped down the contents and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

 

“Another one comes to ask advice?” Shunsui said.

 

Wondering what he meant, Toshiro noticed a large open box of sake. “Why did you demand sake if you already have it?”

 

“I decided that most visitors want something from me. Why should I give away anything for free? I gave my heart freely and had it returned at great cost. Now I realise that we all must pay.”

 

It seemed strange for someone to bring a large amount of sake to Shunsui. Placing the bottle in the middle of the table he skirted the query he wanted to raise. “It must have been a hard question.”

 

A harsh laugh was his answer. “All questions are hard. Otherwise, why ask?”

 

Another cup was drunk. “Advice from the lovelorn to the distressed,” he adopted a falsetto voice. “How do I make a woman fall in love with me?” he fluted and then laughed again. “Love. Why ask me about love? Love has left me. Love is leaving tomorrow without a goodbye.” A loud slurping noise indicated the man was having another drink. “But he asked and I told him to send gifts. Women like gifts.”

 

Gifts? In the process of raising his cup the word startled him and he spilt the sake over the table.

 

“Sorry,” he blurted out.

 

“It's a waste of good sake. Waste. It's a waste of time trying to make a woman come back. You beg, they ignore you, you send gifts and they return them, unopened. She didn't even read my note.”

 

In all the possible outcomes of this visit he hadn't expected to become Shunsui's confidant about his problems. With his limited and pathetic experience it was evident he was in no position to provide any solutions to the older man, but he decided to listen.

 

“I don't know what happened. I thought everything was going well. We'd agreed we loved each other. What obstacle could there be? We were even talking about a future. It would have been a long future, but I didn't see things changing. When she asked, I said I didn't want anything to change.” Shunsui thought and then shook his head. “I sent her a present the next day: an antique hair ornament that she would wear in her delightfully short hair. She returned it.”

 

“But you advised this man to send a gift even though yours didn't work?”

 

“Why should anyone else find love? He's a flabby fool anyway. More inclined to think about food than sweet words. I pity the woman he's chosen to woo. But he has money. Lots of money.” Shunsui drank another cup and slopped some more into Toshiro's nearly empty cup. “I bet he sent food. That'd be like him.”

 

Gingerly, Toshiro picked up the drink and sipped. The burn of the liquor traced a path down his throat and settled uneasily in his stomach. “When was this? Who was it?”

 

Shunsui closed one eye and placed his forefinger against the side of his nose. “Yesterday. Secret,” he said. “Guess. If you get it wrong you have to drink a cup. And I'll join you.”

 

“Can I guess without drinking?”

 

The emphatic shaking of his friend's head indicated that this was not going to be an option. “That's the price. I told you, everything has a price.”

 

Throughout the conversation Toshiro had picked up a few things. The man was fat and not very intelligent and rich. He must be a Shinigami and so must the woman. From the timing and the mention of food he was certain that the woman mentioned was Soi. “Did he tell you who the woman was?”

 

“No. I'm not interested, unless it's Isane. I asked if the woman was tall but he said she's short, so I didn't care after that.”

 

Short! It had to be Soi. But who could the man be? Thinking quickly he eliminated most of the Captains. Some of them might be rich, but none of them flaunted their money. It wouldn't be Captain Kuchiki, or Zaraki. They were already involved, one reluctantly and the 6th Division captain had never shown any partiality for Soi. Quite the opposite. Immediately he began to consider lieutenants. No one much further down the chain of commence would dare court a captain.

 

A Shinigami with a liking of the colour mauve, who was fat, rich, stupid and looking for a wife. As he began to comprehend who may have sent the basket to Soi he wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh, scream or be ill. The idea was disgusting and funny at the same time and now he knew why the mauve colour was familiar. It was the same shade as the scarf or whatever it was he wore around his shoulders. Knowing how Soi felt about the man made the incident seem farcical and he wondered how she would feel if she knew the `Secret Admirer'.

 

Deciding to play along he asked, “Was it Chojiro Sasakibe?”

 

Shunsui sniggered. “He's not stupid. Nor fat. Have a drink.”

 

Toshiro drank the cup in celebration now he'd worked out the problem. “It was Marechiyo Omaeda.”

 

His mouth falling open, Shunsui looked blearily across the table. “I gave you too many clues. That means you win. I suppose you better have a prize. Choose something.” Motioning toward his room with the hand that wasn't holding a cup Shunsui changed the subject, obviously to the topic that absorbed him, “I didn't mean the joke to go so far. Do you think Isane wanted change? Is that why she left?”

 

Choosing his words carefully and emboldened by the spirits he'd drunk, Toshiro asked, “Tell me a little about the conversation?” Rising to his feet he wandered over to the table and saw something that startled him. He wanted it, not for himself, but for Soi. Would he be able to persuade his friend to give it to him? He'd said a prize, but this was expensive and not something to be given away lightly.

 

“We were lying in bed and she was talking about The Wedding. Hell, all the women are talking about The Wedding. I blame Kenpachi for it. I said it was nice that Kenpachi and Ran got married. She said she thought it was wonderful, but it would mean a big change for them. I mentioned that Kenpachi said Ran was pregnant and that was the reason he was marrying her. She went quiet and said that it would mean a very big change and asked how I felt about change.”

 

Toshiro nodded and picked up the small statuette. A hornet! It would be perfect for Soi. Change. Marriage would mean change and so would a baby. Did he want to marry Soi? He'd already promised Zaraki that their children would play together.

 

“And you said?” he prompted, dragging his attention back to the present. He'd have to work the request into the conversation, but now seemed a bad time.

 

“I said why change when nothing's wrong?”

 

That struck a chord in Toshiro. The mention of change had soured everything he had with Soi, whatever it was they'd had.

 

“She said that things were changing between us. They'd changed from the first time we kissed. I told her not to be silly; that everything was going to remain the same.”

 

That seemed an odd thing to say. It sounded like she was hinting at something, but right now Toshiro couldn't work out what it was. They'd agreed they were in love and were looking toward a future. What was she worried about? Had she fallen out of love with Shunsui? Yet, if she felt like that, she would have told him to his face. Shunsui's assumption that nothing would change was wrong. They'd been talking about something that caused immense change.

 

“Marriage,” he said reflectively as he reviewed their conversation. Shunsui and Isane had been talking about Matsumoto and Zaraki's marriage and the possibility of a child.

 

Shunsui sat up straight suddenly. “Did she want me to ask her to marry me? Is that the problem?”

 

Nodding slowly, Toshiro said, “I thought you were the expert on women. Why do woman talk about other people's relationships or marriages? Could she have been hinting?”

 

“Marry? Me? Marry Isane. Why would I? It would mean…”

 

“Change,” Toshiro said.

 

“Being tied down to only one woman! Isane's nice and lovely and intelligent, but I don't want to get married. I'm too young.”

 

Wide eyed at that comment, Toshiro stared at the man. Young? Who was he trying to convince? “What?”

 

“You know what I mean. Another sweet and lovely woman might come along. I might lose interest. I might fall out of l…”

 

Toshiro seized on the phrase. “Love.”

 

Shunsui frowned at the use of the word and continued. “I like her. She's sensible, most of the time, but not intense like Nanao.” A small secretive smile crossed his face. “Isane is shy and humble and so fervent. And the way she smiles at me when she wakes up makes me want to hold her close and breathe in the scent of her skin. I want to cradle her in my arms and protect her so she won't worry about any silly mistakes.”

 

“Like? It sounds deeper than that.”

 

Shunsui suddenly seemed more sober. “I'm not saying that word seriously. Not the one you mean.”

 

“You were quite happy to say it many times earlier. Love is leaving. Giving your heart. You'd agreed you were in love with each other,” not knowing why he was persisting, Toshiro was facing up to his feelings as he tried to make Shunsui aware of his.

 

A shuttered look came over the 8th Division Captain's face. “That was a private moment which I shouldn't have shared. For the rest of it, I was being melodramatic. I didn't mean what I said. The sake was making me maudlin and sad.”

 

“So love is okay as long as it's not permanent.” He'd said what they were both trying to deny. They might say they wanted it, but when it came to the moment of commitment, fear took over.

 

“Love is meant to be passing.”

 

“You're lucky then. Your love is passing from here to Hueco Mundo,” Toshiro said with calculated cruelty. “She might not come back.”

 

Shunsui shut his eyes and bowed his head. Waiting for a response, it seemed to Toshiro that the man might have fallen asleep but when Shunsui opened his eyes his gaze was directed toward a small but perfect vase which contained one red rosebud.

 

“I can do nothing more. I've sent her flowers, presents but they've all been returned. When I visit 4th Division she's always too busy to see me. I tried speaking to Retsu, but she only smiled and told me that her lieutenant has much to occupy her time,” the dejection in his voice was unmistakable. “Would you talk to her for me?”

 

If the man had asked him out on a date he couldn't be more surprised. “What? Tonight?”

 

Shunsui looked hopeful and then shook his head. “It's late and she needs to sleep. You could visit 4th Division tomorrow but they're leaving so early.”

 

“I'll talk to her when she comes back,” Toshiro offered knowing it was an unsatisfactory offer. “Or I could send her a message on your behalf.”

 

Shunsui quickly got writing implements and encouraged Toshiro to write a note at his dictation. Summoning a messenger the note was sent and having completed the action, Shunsui brightened. “Since you've tried to help me out, you can have that hornet. I owe you anyway. It's valuable, an antique, but I never liked it much. Angry looking thing: it seems like it would sting you if it was alive.”

 

Toshiro's tongue felt large in his mouth as he tried to thank his friend. He had the present, but how did he get it to Soi? She'd reject anything he sent. Why was the woman so unreasonable? Why couldn't she accept he'd made a mistake? She'd made mistakes too, but he wasn't going say anything.

 

He again remembered their last private conversation. Concealing a groan as a yawn, it struck him that Shunsui was yawning at the same time. Bidding farewell to his friend he made his way slowly home. There had to be a solution.

 

 

A.N.

 

Soundtrack

`Burden of the Past' Bleach Original Soundtrack 1

`Sad but True' Orbital

`End of All Hope' Nightwish

 

The next chapter. In time. I hope Toshiro can think of something clever.

 

Review. I like reviews.

 

Thanks to ldymoon, Bastion and Mors for the reviews.