Crescent Moon Fan Fiction ❯ A Life Best Kept Secret ❯ Hidden hints of something more ( Chapter 5 )

 

Note to Disclaimers: I do not and never will own Crescent Moon, so please do NOT sue me. I have nothing to give you all, absolutely nothing. I own nothing except my college education…and even that, well…I don't really OWN it. So…you have been informed. All Crescent Moon things belong to their rightful owners…except for this story and some of its ideas—they're mine. Please don't steal them. Thank you.

 

A/N: Not much to say here except that it's STILL an Adult A/U fanfiction. It will eventually be NC-17 (meaning M, for Mature) in a few chapters, maybe Rated-R (meaning T here) in a few others. Maybe some Lime but no Lemon on fanfiction.net. You'll have to go to MediaMiner.org for that. Well, don't flame me for rated-anything content. I warned you. Thank you and enjoy.

 

Word Coding:

`Thoughts'

“Speaking”

Everything else

 

A Life Best Kept Secret (Chapter five)

 

Annoyed, Mahiru wiped at the small bead of sweat that slid down the corner of her temple as she collapsed against her bed frame. Sighing heavily, she sank deeper into the confines of her plushy, blue carpet, enthralled that she was getting something done, though it made her tired. Her room was a disaster area, needless to say. She'd been up early on Saturday morning moving furniture around, throwing out clothes and reorganizing her room, entirely. After all, midterms were coming up and she decided that she needed a clean, open area to study. Her mind worked better that way. Brushing stray bangs from her eyes, she let out a steady breath while she put her arms over her head, exhausted. `But I still have so much to move…' In reality, she'd only moved about 1/3 of her room, which mainly consisted of her bed and clothes. Her dresser still needed moving, her closet needed cleaning and her carpet needed vacuuming as well as shampooing. Shaking her head, she fell flat on her back in irritation, boredom surfacing as she resorted to rhythmic breathing patterns to calm her nerves. Her muscles felt a little sore and her feet hurt just a bit—she was still getting used to the heels. After a few more minutes of steady breathing she rolled onto her side in curiosity, wondering when Nozomu would return since he was, supposedly, back from his business trip.

 

It had been at least another three days since they'd been gone and she began wondering why the trips were becoming so frequent. `Is it really that necessary?' She knew little of business management, and so decided that those decisions were best made by those who knew the business. But nevertheless, something felt a little fishy to her, and she didn't like it, not one bit. Huffing as she sat up, Mahiru made a beeline straight for the door in order to retrieve a cool drink from downstairs. Normally she'd have Nozomu help her move her room around, as she did it whenever boredom struck; but he wasn't there, and Keiko would be the last person to ask. She'd been awfully busy dealing with Hokuto as of the late, not to mention her many visits to Akira's house. `I could've asked Akira,' she mused as a side thought. It was short lived, however, when she realized that he had said something about going out for Milk tea with Keiko before working. She'd received the day off since Midterms were coming up and she needed to do some “things” that couldn't wait. This wasn't true, by any means; but no one questioned her otherwise. She didn't dare ask Mitsuru for fear that he'd scream his response of “No” straight at her face. `And who needs THAT kind of stress in their day? I have to do this myself.'

 

It seemed like everything she did lately had to be done on her own. She hardly ever asked for help anymore, even from Nozomu. It felt as though the world was going to be hers, at this rate. But did she want the whole world? `Well, I want MY whole world…and that's it.' Though things seemed to be going her way, she did get curious of when things would blow up in her face. `Plans like this can only last so long…especially with my bad luck…but I'm going to make this one work.' Plucking a can of strawberry sweetened tea from her fridge, she let the door slam as she leaned against the counter, her eyes focused outside. Kids were screaming and laughing as the cool October air drifted around them. Halloween was coming up and she still hadn't decided what she was going to do. A summer had come and gone, and no one suspected anything about her double job status; therefore when the new semester of her third year in college rolled around and Lucy came knocking about continuing her job, she said yes. `If no one knew then, then no one will know now.' Of course, she hadn't quite considered that she'd done the job for a little over four months the semester prior, and that she'd have to be doing all year this time around. But she was confident in her ability to multitask and figured she definitely could do it. So the job and hectic schedule stayed. She was not used to it at all. She had attended her first year of college somewhere else, somewhere in the East Coast of the United States before transferring over to her new college in California. She'd lived on the east coast her entire life, in the middle of a crowded city. But with their father opening his own business, the job required that they relocate, and that they did.

 

California seemed like a nice enough state to live in, and she'd heard numerous stories about the people, the weather and the culture in; she'd hoped that's where they'd move. Naturally she was pleased to discover that they'd moved to a pleasant area in Southern California, where she was placed in college right away. She was more than excited to discover that her long time friend, Keiko Himura, had been attending the same college since her graduation from High School. Though they hadn't exactly lost touch during the first year of college, Mahiru did have to agree that without Keiko, she'd been a little sad her first year. It seemed like a reunion to good to be true. But she was happy when she discovered that they'd be together again, with plenty of good times to follow. Heaving another sigh, she placed her empty can in the recycling bin and headed back upstairs, determined to finish her moving around in the next hour. `Then it will be time for actual cleanup!' Hands on hips, Mahiru stood before her door, smiling deviously. Inhaling a deep breath of readiness, she rolled up her sleeves and marched into the room. The door slammed shut and anything and everything of the outside world was closed off to Mahiru Shiraishi.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

A couple hours later found Mahiru lying peacefully on her bed with her head on the pillows, arms dangling over the side of the bed's edges. The sun was still out in the sky outside; however, she knew it would be setting in a matter of hours. She was moving to sit up when she heard the doorbell ring obnoxiously. Letting out an annoyed growl, she jumped up and made her way down the staircase to answer it. She wasn't quite sure who she'd find on the other side but she wasn't really expecting it to be Mitsuru—part of her still hoped. Even though she doubted he'd help her out with the moving, she had still left a message on his answering machine earlier in the afternoon, and she was far from being finished with the process. She planned to rearrange the living room next and give the kitchen a thorough cleaning. `I almost forgot about the garage too…' she trailed off into thought as she swung the door open. She felt her eyes widen at the sight before her. Mitsuru stood in the doorway, a backpack slung over his shoulder and his gaze directed straight at her. She gasped. “M-Mitsuru, what….why…I mean, can I help you?”

 

He sighed in annoyance. “I got your message.”

 

She clapped her hands gleefully as she grabbed his hand. “Oh, yes, right! Come in. I didn't think you'd actually come to help me!” She closed the door behind her as she led them both into the kitchen for a drink. When he made no move to pull away from her, Mahiru smiled secretly to herself. `Maybe he doesn't hate me after all.' She was about to turn around and ask him what he wanted to drink when he pulled away and went to the window. Startled, she followed, trying to see what he was looking at. “Mitsuru….what is it? Is something bothering you?”

 

“Yeah…they're still there,” Mitsuru replied in indignation.

 

“Who?” Mahiru followed his line of vision until he saw Akira and Keiko standing across the street, waiting. `Wait a minute…so…he came because they forced him to!' Suddenly angered and somewhat hurt, Mahiru huffed and began pushing him back towards the door. Puzzled, he gave a questioning look to which she responded only by opening up the front door. “Just tell them I finished moving. I don't need your help.”

 

“Huh…? What are you talking about, girl?” Mitsuru looked flabbergasted. “Are you insane?”

 

“I see them. They made you come and help me!” She pointed to her friends. “Don't try and hide them!”

 

“I wasn't,” Mitsuru snapped back as he shot them a lazy look. “I ran into that damn hyperactive mutt and that crazed witch on my way over.” She glared; Mitsuru shook his head. “Ok, so maybe they gave me a push.” She looked positively infuriated at his blatant attempt at lying. “Ok, so they did make me come over here. Do you want help or not, because I can just leave right now.”

 

Huffing again, Mahiru slammed the door for the second time as she jerked him in the direction of her room. “I need you to help me move my dresser and shampoo the carpet for right now, ok? Don't say a word…” She shoved him into her room, and then was gone.

 

Mitsuru shrugged nonchalantly as he set his backpack down next to her cluttered desk, which consisted mainly of school books, tests, exams, general notes, notebooks, lab manuals; if it was from school, it was on her desk. But to the side of that, on her lamp desk, were piles of clothes, hangers and shoes piled high until they looked about ready to fall off. He raised an eyebrow as he caught sight of the wall above her headboard, really looking at it for the first time since he hadn't been able to the last time. It was decorated with a drawn out story about a demon boy and a princess who had fallen in love with the demon boy. He rolled his eyes at the mushy scene and continued looking around. Only then did he notice how much she liked the story on her wall; there were clues and snippets of it all over. Her desk lamp was made into the shape of an old fashioned doll wearing a traditional kimono; the doll's head lit up and light poured out from it. On the top of her bed was a hand-made quilt of a handsome demon and a beautiful princess dancing in the middle of a brightly, rainbow colored forest, a sunset behind them. It was elaborately embroidered. `Maybe her…mom made it,' he mused as he kept looking around. On her window was a scene of a magnificent princess sleeping under the moonlight with a young demon watching over her, carved into sticky plastic that stayed on the glass. He felt his eye twitch. `What is it with her and this story?'

 

Shaking his head in annoyance again, he made his way towards her dresser where clothes were still overflowing and it looked extremely messy. `What do they think I am? Her servant boy?' Though outraged, he knew it was a lost battle to fight. Keiko Himura was not one to mess with, especially when it came to Mahiru, who happened to be her best friend. He remembered Keiko from High School, briefly—and she him. Though for the strangest reason, when they'd met again, she acted like she didn't; he'd figured she hadn't liked him much in High School, or elementary for that matter. Shrugging his shoulders he began pushing the dresser out of the room, not surprised at how heavy it was. It looked as though Mahiru had already disassembled most of her bed frame as her mattress was sitting in the middle of the floor. He noticed the bolts, nuts and screws lying haphazardly on the floor as well. `It figures,' he thought as he rolled his eyes. `If she's this messy here, then it explains the work environment habits…what a pig!' He'd never really encountered a young woman's room with the exception of Katsura; but he didn't think it was normal for a girl's rooms to be this messy. “She is such a disorganized, messy idiot,” he mumbled as he pulled on the dresser again.

 

“Incase you hadn't noticed, I AM cleaning OUT my room, Mitsuru.”

 

He nearly jumped out of his skin when she spoke, surprised that he hadn't heard her; but he masked it well. “Whatever, dumb girl. I don't care how messy your room is.”

 

“Then stop mumbling about it you big meanie,” she replied. “Besides…I just haven't ever been that good about cleaning my room. Geez…you act like it's a big surprise.”

 

He raised a brow, feigning indifference. `I could've sworn…' He left his thought unfinished when she shoved a glass of what appeared to be iced-strawberry soda into his face. “What?”

 

“I'm offering you a drink, nerd. Just take it and say thanks…or however you thank people, if it's possible,” she snapped in response, turning away after he reached out and accepted the cool beverage. “Seriously…”

 

“I am grateful,” he murmured as though she'd offended him, which she had. `But I'd rather die before she found that out.'

 

She hadn't heard him at all, so he wasn't quite surprised when she walked to her window and leaned out, watching the trees sway in the breeze, the soft wind playing through her hair. Her blonde locks rustled in the cool zephyr as she sighed, deep in thought, thinking about some thing he couldn't even guess about. She frowned as she heard Mitsuru begin to move things again, her mind anywhere that didn't involve her moving her room around. Instead she was focused intently on the fact that he was actually helping, whether someone had forced him to or not. Either way, he really could have said no—even to Keiko. She knew how intimidating Keiko could be at times but even then, Mitsuru had never seemed like the type who would just sit there and take what someone said to him. Sighing again, she shook her head before turning around to walk out of the room and start on folding the clothes that were spilling from her dresser drawers. She'd gotten about two steps before tripping over his foot and falling to the carpeted floor with a loud thump. She had not quite expected that, but what surprised her even more was the hand that reached out to help her. Looking up in shock, Mahiru gasped as her eyes met Mitsuru's, her breath catching in her throat for a mere moment. `This…I don't…I've seen this…deja vu?' A second later she took his outstretched hand as he helped her up from the floor. They stared at each other a minute before he whirled around to go back to work—there were no snide comments. Mahiru was positively dumbfounded.

 

The rest of the afternoon carried on in a relatively silent manner until they had to go and clean the garage out. They stood there, staring in horror at what was actually in the garage. She hadn't been in the garage in about five or six months when it was still pretty clean. However, now it looked as if hell had warmed over. There were piles of random things sprinkled about, mainly clothes, yard tools, and the lawnmower was spewing leaves while it dripped gasoline everywhere. Mitsuru raised his hand to his head to scratch it, mystified. Mahiru simply shook her head, aghast. “It looks like Nozomu and father have been in here recently. I uh…I don't even know where to begin, Mitsuru.” He said nothing, to which Mahiru rolled up her sleeves. “Well, it's not going to clean itself! Come on.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Mitsuru made his way past her to clean up the oil, which was now creating a large greasy, shiny puddle right next to a pile of boxes that looked useless and old. Mahiru ran to the boxes as Mitsuru mopped at the mess, her eyes investigating the papers within them once she'd opened them. They were filled to the brim with bills, files, important looking things. `But they might be really old…but still…I'd better get them somewhere safer.' Hefting the boxes up and out of the way, she allowed Mitsuru to pass by her before heading to the house to put the boxes away. Once inside she slumped against the door, her heartbeat wild as she glanced outside. She inhaled sharply as she saw Mitsuru move a box, the muscles of his arms flexing from the strain while his shoulder blades stuck out through the material of his shirt. She was amazed by it, partially because she liked him, partially because his shirt wasn't exactly thin. `I feel like a pervert,' she thought as she clasped her hands together, trying not to fidget with them. She could hear him still moving boxes around, shifting, stacking—sounding thoroughly annoyed. Figuring she'd been gone long enough, she made to step out into the yard when the door she had been leaning against swung open. She barely had time to jump out of the way, pinning her back to the nearest wall while she tried to calm her breathing. Mitsuru stood in the doorway giving her a curious but irritated look as he brushed past her without saying a word; no apology, either. Huffing, Mahiru followed him into the kitchen, watching in slight bitterness as he poured himself a glass of lemonade from the fridge.

 

After gulping it down, he wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve before leaning against the counter opposite to her, waiting for her to say something. Infuriated, Mahiru prickled. “Can't you at LEAST say you're sorry? You could've injured me back there!”

 

“What were you doing behind the door, dumb girl?” His eyes shot daggers at her face “Besides, I came to help, not clean the entire garage by myself. What was taking you so damn long?”

 

She gritted her teeth. “I was putting some stuff away, ok? I was on my way out before you so gracefully almost killed me, you big meanie!”

 

He rolled his eyes at her childish use of words. `It's amazing to me, even now…' Quirking his lips into a scowl, he shoved past her only to pause at the door. “Come on, we still have a lot of work to do before sun down.”

 

Nodding, though she would much rather have bashed her head in, Mahiru followed his lead through the back door until they reached the garage. There was dust floating all over the place where light was shining through, and there were faint traces that showed Mitsuru had been starting to rake the leaves in the front yard. `Well, I didn't ask him to help clean the yard,' she thought. Nevertheless, she still appreciated that he even came over in the first place. Picking up the nearest spare rag, Mahiru set to cleaning the dust off the remaining boxes while Mitsuru went back to moving furniture around. The rest of the afternoon went the same way until it was about 9:30 at night, which was about the time Mitsuru started complaining about being hungry—though not vocally. His stomach growled loudly as they were finishing up cleaning the kitchen. Giggling, Mahiru picked up the phone and ordered take-out sushi for them both, a secret reward for their hard work. Mitsuru was busy admiring the statues and paintings in their living room when Mahiru scooted up beside him, leaving about two inches of space between their arms. Mitsuru bristled slightly at the close space but relaxed a moment later when she spoke.

 

“My mom…I used to hope she was the one that painted these. At least that's what father says,” she said as she pointed to a series of pictures with the same demon boy and fragile princess. He heard her sigh, a sigh of sadness and turned to look down at her. In the dim lighting of the room she paid him no mind, but Mitsuru was suddenly aware of how sad she looked. He was about to speak when she continued, drifting away from him. “She used to say, according to my father, that these pictures were from a famous story she'd been told as a young girl. I guess it was passed down through the generations. When she passed…father kept the pictures for memory, and he gave me the other things she'd made. Mom liked to paint, amongst other things. She was an artist, I figured out later on. But now…well, you know the story; I'm sure Nozomu had told everyone by now.”

 

Silence hung between them for a minute or two, deafening and heavy as Mahiru felt a tear slide down her cheek. Mitsuru could see it in the dim lighting, mainly from the moonlight that came through the window; he felt his pulse quicken. `What am I supposed to do?' His heart was pounding as he walked up to her just in time to see her shoulders start to shake. Reaching out, he was just about to touch her shoulder in a comforting gesture when she spoke again. “Of course…I don't know why I'm telling you this. You probably don't care.” He was about to protest when the doorbell rang loudly. Sniffling, Mahiru wiped her tears away and grabbed some money from the ancient Japanese vase on the coffee table. “Excuse me, that'd be our food at the door. Why don't you go serve us something to drink? I'll be right back.”

 

Without another word she departed to the hallway where the doorbell was still ringing. Mitsuru just stood there, dumbfounded, in the living room as he took in all she'd said. `I don't…remember her being this sad before…it's like…I can't even explain it; it's odd.' Shaking his head, he went straight to the kitchen and pulled out the remainder of the strawberry iced tea, his finger trembling as he poured some into two glasses. He was placing the container in the recycling bin when Mahiru came in, the sushi in her hands. Her eyes were a little red from crying but otherwise, she seemed relatively normal again. They ate in an uncomfortable silence, and it remained that way until Mahiru was letting him out through the front door about an hour later. He was adjusting the straps on his backpack when he felt a hand on his arm. He turned around only to come face to face with Mahiru, a small, half hearted smile on her face. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she shook her head before walking up to him and hugging him. On instinct he was going to wrap his arms around her too, but didn't have time as she stepped away, quickly. Just as she was closing the door, she spoke, again.

 

“Mitsuru?”

 

He stopped but did not turn around. “Yes?”

 

“Thank you, for everything today. Goodnight,” she replied before closing the door completely.

 

He hadn't had the chance to say `you're welcome' to her, but he figured she didn't expect it from him. `Would I have really said it anyway?' Shaking his head, he waited until the light on the porch turned on and the lights in her bedroom turned off. Once this was done Mitsuru made his way down the block; he couldn't help the disappointed and worried frown that placed his lips.

 

Inside the comfort of her home, Mahiru fell against the door, sliding down until she was sitting with her arms around her knees. Silent tears slid down her cheeks as she sobbed into her knees, moistening her skin with tears. It was completely dark inside the house, the only light pouring through the windows were the moon and porch light. Aside from that, the darkness enveloped her and Mahiru felt alone as she had whenever her father left. `But Nozomu used to never be gone…and now…both of them are gone.' Lifting her head, she sniffled and sighed as she wiped her tears away with her sweater sleeve. Her head hurt and she felt the sudden need for a couple of aspirin pills. As she was making her way up the stairs, she couldn't help but wonder if she was crying because of her brother or the twinge in her heart when Mitsuru did not even try to comfort her earlier that evening. `Of course, I didn't exactly give him a chance to try, did I? I wonder if he did, and I just opened my big mouth.' Ignoring her thoughts, Mahiru popped two pills into her mouth, downed some water and returned to her room for her towel. `I feel gross; I need to take a shower.' After turning the water to lukewarm, Mahiru climbed in, exhaling slowly as the water washed over her grimy form. The consistent pounding of the water calmed her nerves as it landed rhythmically on her bare back.

 

The sound of the water droplets eased her mind as she leaned against the wall, her eyes closed and arms wrapped around her shoulders. Showers always seemed to make her feel better. In fact, something about water always made her feel better, soothing her when nothing else could. Inhaling deeply, Mahiru squeezed out a dollop of her favorite milk and honey shampoo, massaging it into her hair. Next came her body wash and conditioner as the finishing touches to her shower. Once done, she dried off and slipped into the coolest pair of pajamas she could find in her newly arranged and fixed dresser. As she completed her nighttime rituals of brushing her teeth and hair, she contemplated what she would do the next day. `It's Sunday after all…' Her thought trailed as she slid into bed, drawing the curtain from her window so she could gaze at the stars and moon, which were perched high in the sky. Once her head hit the pillow, however, she was asleep.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

With a sigh, Mahiru continued to block out the sun's rays, annoyed that they were intruding on her precious sleep and ruining her Sunday Morning. She could hear the birds chirping outside and the sounds of children laughing. `Just what time is it anyway?' Peeking through her fingers she took note of the blaring red digits on her digital clock. `8:15…hm…' Blinking back grogginess, she attempted to stifle a yawn but was rather unsuccessful. After a few minutes of no success, she gave up with an elongated huff as she climbed out of bed. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes while she trekked down the stairs to the kitchen for a glass of water and some breakfast. The sun was spilling into the lower rooms, courtesy of her forgetting to close the blinds. It wasn't hot inside; but the sun was about to make it so. Shaking her head, Mahiru made her way to the cabinets, which held the glasses when the phone suddenly rang. Blinking again, she picked the annoying thing from its receiver. “Moshi-moshi?”

 

“Mahiru, how are you?”

 

“Nozomu! I'm fine. When are you getting back?” Mahiru smiled as she talked to him.

 

“Oh, I think about two days from now. Something happened and we had to stay longer. Is that all right? Is everything all right with you?” He asked.

 

She nodded even though she knew he couldn't see her. “No, I'm just fine. But I…um…I was hoping you'd be back today, but that's all right. Father's business is very important.”

 

“This is true, Mahiru. But it's not as important as you, so remember that, all right?”

 

She giggled. “Thanks Nozomu, I know.” She sighed as she made her way towards the kitchen, still smiling. “So, do you have any idea when you'll be back now? I was hoping that I could talk to you about something.”

 

“Are you having any troubles, Mahiru?” Nozomu's voice was a little anxious. Truth be told, he was on the other line, miles away from her, ridden with anxiety that his suspicions were coming were true. Misoka ignored his sudden fidgeting as he peered at the tall blonde through his glasses, a smirk on his lips. Nozomu was so transparent at times that it made things too easy for his long haired friend. Nozomu smiled at something his sister said and Misoka raised a brow. “Hm…that sounds like a great idea. I think we'll be home by then. Sure thing Mahiru. Now you take care, hear me? Oh, all right. Bye.”

 

Mahiru giggled again as she hung up, relief flooding her as she went to get ready for breakfast. Not too long after she had finished consuming her food she was on her way to work. When she entered the store, Keiko and Akira were already getting money from the safe for the cash registers. They smiled at her in greeting as she made her way towards the back room, pulling out her uniform as she did so. When she entered the inventory area she was surprised to find it empty. She blinked, curious. “Akira, Keiko…am I…going to be working alone today or is Mitsuru just late?”

 

“Mitsuru won't be coming in today,” Akira replied solemnly as Keiko averted her eyes.

 

Mahiru just blinked for the second time. “Did something…happen? He seemed perfectly all right yesterday afternoon.”

 

“I think he's caught the flu,” Keiko cut in before Akira could say anything more. “Anyway, you can get full credit today for all your hours. But Oboro said that the store is supposed to close early, around 2:30.”

 

“Oh…” Mahiru glanced around at the neat inventory area. “Maybe…well…all right. I'll clock out then.”

 

“Ok, we'll be up front.”

 

The rest of the afternoon went by agonizingly slow for Mahiru as she tried to focus on work rather than the reason that she couldn't work. It seemed unlike Mitsuru to get sick and miss work, let alone get sick at all. He always showed up to class, no matter what. And so far, he seemed immune to any sickness that came their way—and he didn't have any allergies. She was still pondering this when she heard the door swing open. She knew it wasn't Mitsuru but part of her still hoped. When she saw Keiko's bright, smiling face she smiled too. “Hey Keiko. What's up?”

 

“I know you've only been back at work for a few hours and all, but I'm doing my routine check up,” Keiko answered with a grin.

 

Mahiru raised a brow. “What?”

 

“Nozomu asked me to check on you. We can't be too careful since you fainted.” Keiko seemed to scowl when she saw Mahiru's blatant objection to the suggested action. “Look Mahi, we worry about you. You're just going to have to get used to this, at least for a few weeks or so. We were all so worried, especially Nozomu.”

 

The young blonde sighed as she shook her head. “I know…I know. Thanks Keiko, for caring.”

 

With that said, Keiko smile done more time before leaving. Hours passed. She could hear only silence from the front accompanied by an occasional laugh fest between Keiko and Akira; but there were few to none customers to speak of. She could hear no one asking for help and she heard the doorbell chime only 5 times in the past hour. `Wow…things are really slow today.' Annoyed at being cooped up in the back the entire time, she ventured out into the customer service area to see Keiko and Akira in conversation. Normally she would have left them alone but today she was bored out of her mind; she skipped up to them just loud enough so that they wouldn't become surprised. “Hey Keiko, Akira. I have an idea!”

 

Akira blinked while Keiko shook her head, knowing where Mahiru's idea was going before she voiced it. “What's that, Mahiru?” Akira questioned curiously.

 

“Why don't we go visit Mitsuru, you know…see how he's doing and all? If he's got the flu, I know a great soup he can eat, and I can help him with homework or something!” Mahiru's voice was vibrant and giddy—Keiko was suspicious. As if sensing this, Mahiru put her hands up in surrender. “I mean, we're his friends and all, co workers too! We should at least see when his big, meanie self is going to terrorize the inventory room again!”

 

“Are you sure this isn't an excuse to see him?” Keiko prodded mischievously.

 

Mahiru huffed as she stuck her nose in the air. “Oh for heaven's sake…of course not. I'm just being a good classmate all right? So what if I am worried, he's still human, no matter how much of a jerk he is!”

 

“That's Mahiru's never ending cup of mercy and compassion,” Keiko remarked as she hopped off the counter, staring at her watch. “Wow, Mahiru, Akira, it's already 2:20. We should probably start to close, right?”

 

Akira nodded, his eyes alight with mirth as he threw the keys to Keiko. “I'll go put the cash drawers away. Mahiru, why don't you just check up in the back, make sure everything is tidy and all?”

 

She smiled as she agreed, her eyes laughing as she left to the inventory area, her gait steady. `I wonder what type of soup Mitsuru would like…chicken, wanton, Miso, leeks and potato?' She was locking up the inventory room as she thought this, pausing as she looked into nothingness. Her mind was wandering as she joined Keiko and Akira outside the now darkened store. They looked amused as she followed them, her eyes seemingly focused on something they could not see. “Ano…what kind of soup does Mitsuru like?”

 

Akira shrugged. “What kind do you have?”

 

“Well, none…actually…” She answered.

 

“I have Leeks and Potato that Hokuto made earlier today.” Keiko pronounced her fiancée's name like it was poison. “We could pick it up while he's out.”

 

Once agreed they turned the corner towards Keiko's estate, lost in their own thoughts. Akira was unusually silent as the girls talked behind him. Akira silent was a bad sign but the girls continued on, not distracted and failing to notice his quiet state. These days he wasn't feeling nearly as hyper as he normally did; he was worried about Mitsuru, too. Just the other day he saw Mitsuru almost collapse but when Akira neared him in an attempt to help, the aqua-haired adult recovered and went about his business. He was still deep in thought when they arrived at Keiko's house. Her estate, which was shared with Hokuto, was dark and ominous when all the lights were off and nighttime blanketed the sky. However, during the daylight hours it looked very much like a palace, lit up by the sun and bathed in warm, golden light, making it seem heavenly. Akira gasped, never having seen anything like it. Mahiru simply kept walking as she'd been to Keiko's more than enough times to be impressed by the size of the house, as well as the appearance. She knew from personal experience that the house held anything but a warm, friendly aura to it. She hated visiting Keiko's mansion—it always felt so distant. It was not that there was no comfort in Keiko's house—though Mahiru disagreed with this—but there was no real sense of life to it. It was missing something, in Mahiru's opinion, which, she figured, was the reason Keiko enjoyed visiting Mahiru at her own house, the Moegi's.

 

Nevertheless, she chuckled at Akira's naïve nature as Keiko asked them to wait outside. Akira pouted at this, for he truly wanted to see where Keiko lived and what it was like. He squelched this thought, however, at the dark look that came over her face. Keiko had been gone for mere minutes when Mahiru cleared her throat, signaling she wanted to say something to the hyper active young man. He glanced at her. “Yeah, is something the matter Mahiru?”

 

She sighed. “Akira, what's REALLY going on with Mitsuru? Did he really get the flu or is there something else going on?” He looked puzzled; she just sighed again. “I feel like Mitsuru is lying to me…he doesn't tell me anything…though I don't know why he would. He hardly cares what I think…but still…I can't shake the feeling that there is something seriously wrong…or that he's…hiding something.” As she said this she prayed she did not turn pink, for she knew she herself was hiding something very important from her brother and her best friend. She gulped as if in worry as Akira shook his head. “So…there is nothing?”

 

“Not that I know of. Oboro hasn't told us anything though…and neither would Mitsuru…but I'm sure it's just that he's sick. He works a lot of hours and has a lot of homework—he's probably just getting a little worn out,” Akira replied, confident. He could tell she did not believe him. `Why would she?' He mused to himself as she resumed looking abut anywhere but him. `They have all the same classes together, and the same work schedule—why would she think anything different?' He let out a snort as he realized he was, possibly, over analyzing the entire situation. `But what if I'm not?' Shaking his head in response to his own question, Akira simply resumed his own gazing at Keiko's mansion as he saw Mahiru wave. Then, he noticed Keiko exiting the estate with a large tureen of soup, a screaming servant following wildly behind her. Akira raised a brow as she turned on him; she must've said something horrible for the servant's face to suddenly have become stricken. Moments later they were all walking towards Mitsuru's, where Akira, Misoka and Oboro all lived, though Misoka would soon be moving out. The hyper-active teen let out a sigh. `I wish Nozomu would've stayed with us…but Mahiru…'

 

He felt slightly guilty for acting like he'd never known Mahiru, and he knew the rest of them did as well. She had been a part of their lives ever since he could remember. She had been such a sweet girl, loving and caring. She had tried to befriend Mitsuru, too, numerous times. `I guess some things don't change even after all that stuff happened…' He had been informed of her whereabouts after her father had upped and moved them to the east coast. She'd been in her freshman year of high school, right before the beginning of their sophomore year. Once again he shook his head, trying to rid himself of the terrible thoughts that suddenly plagued him. Still, he'd recognized her, Keiko had, and Misoka and Oboro had — did Mitsuru? There was something off about their encounter that made him wonder whether Mitsuru had been told the news those four or five years ago. He'd venture to think and say no, that Mitsuru hadn't, based off the way things had been going the past year. Nevertheless, they continued their trek towards Oboro quaint, but quite spacious house, their goal of helping Mitsuru the only thing in Mahiru's mind. Even so, Akira could Keiko biting her lips, seemingly nervous about something. Playing it off as though she and Akira had never met was a hard thing to do in front of Mahiru, when in fact; they'd known each other since they'd known Mahiru. Keiko had been so good about playing it off, about keeping up the act; but lately, it was getting harder to do.

 

Hokuto was pressuring her about their marriage, one she no longer felt like consenting to—not that'd she'd had a choice in the beginning. But her renewed friendship with Akira had made things harder because she knew she was becoming interested in him, because she knew she was starting to like him in more than a friendly way. He'd always been a good friend to her, especially when Mahiru had moved. Luckily, her friend knew her enough. However, it didn't change the fact that the last four or five years had been hard on her. Without Akira she felt like she might have given in to sadness—she'd lost her best friend. Sighing, she silently slipped her arm through Akira's as Mahiru continued humming lightly to herself ahead of them. He gave her a questioning, curious look to which she only shook her own head, leaning it against his shoulder. He knew, by this action, that she was in no mood to talk about it because she knew he was thinking the same things as she. Only when they reached the familiar path to Oboro's did she brighten. The welcoming feel of the house and smell of fresh flowers brought her up. Mahiru was already knocking on the door when Akira and Keiko reached her. She looked content, happy, and light-hearted—Keiko turned away and Akira frowned. Seconds later they could heat the lock opening and see the doorknob turn.

 

Mitsuru gasped, stupefied, when he found Mahiru standing on his doorstep. It was short lived though, when he saw Akira and Keiko standing behind her, staring into space and avoiding his now heated glare. However, he didn't have time to snap at them as Mahiru had pushed him back inside the house, scolding him like a child. He simply blinked at her in awe and blatant irritation. “What are you doing here?”

 

She smiled nonetheless. “We brought you soup! Akira said you caught the flu, or something along those lines…but anyway, yeah, we brought you some Leeks and Potato soup. Leeks are really healthy for you, by the way.” The entire time she had been saying this to him she had started setting up four bowls while Keiko went to the bathroom, complaining of a small stomach ache. Akira had disappeared, too, but Mahiru didn't notice as she continued rambling on to the obviously irritated young man before her. She ignored that part of him as she talked about school, work and life in general. He probably didn't care for the 411 from her but she wasn't about to let him get one sarcastic, spiteful word in. “So we're here to visit you and make sure you have everything you need for the next few days—we don't want you to get worse or anything.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “Sheesh…you're so annoying…”

 

She slapped the wooden spoon she'd been using to serve the soup straight onto the tabletop in front of him, splattering him with bits of the warm food. “Listen you; I think you at least owe me a “thank you” or something. I did offer to just get all your homework and stuff for the next few days if you can't make it. Stop being so ungrateful for once, will you?”

 

His eyes narrowed. “I didn't ask you to do any of this, stupid girl.”

 

She sighed. “For once, I'd think you'd at least appreciate the concern…but I guess I was wrong.” Giving a defeated sigh, she threw the spoon on the table and walked out the door.

 

Mitsuru knew the consequences of his actions could be dire, especially with Keiko and Akira around. So without a second thought he ran after her, as fast as his weak limbs could carry him. After his last week at work he had been left more tired than usual, having to train late and practice. He was extremely annoyed by this, more so than he was tired. But his already used up energy store made it harder and he began to get sick, in a sense. He wasn't sure which was worse: less sleep and his hectic schedule or no way of explaining to his surrogate “family” what was going on—though he chose the latter. He shook his head to clear it as he chased after her into the front yard, glaring daggers at her back the whole time he pushed himself to go after her. She was halfway down the path to the gate when he reached her, using his hands to grab her before she could actually exit the gate.

 

He'd never been more embarrassed in his life, cursing himself to hell and back as she let out a squeak while they fell, unceremoniously, onto the green grass. Mitsuru had been in such a rush to catch her that his blanket had been left hanging off him and when he'd grabbed her, the blasted thing tripped them both. As a result, they lay there a mere few seconds, tangled up in his blanket and shock until the front door burst open to reveal Keiko and Akira looking thoroughly amused. Mitsuru was the first to come to his senses as he shot up faster than Akira had ever seen before, dumping Mahiru on the ground with his blanket, and convincing the rest of the world that he was not sick. She gave him a malicious glare as she huffed and picked herself up on the ground, discarding the cover in his face before stomping back inside. Akira followed suit, just to make sure she didn't destroy anything in her rampage.

 

Once inside, Mahiru began slamming the pot lid onto the pot, stifling the steam from getting out. The soup was reheated and she'd taken the courtesy of doing it in a pot instead of the microwave—her father did not believe in them. A tear escaped her eye as she leaned on the counter, her hands braced against the ceramic as more tears slid down her cheeks. She wasn't sobbing but she felt an ache spread throughout her body as Mitsuru's lack of tact and appreciation. `He's right…he didn't ask for it…but still…' Her thought was cut short when she felt someone's hand on her shoulder. She was sure it was Keiko but at the masculine voice that spoke, she knew it wasn't. Akira rubbed her shoulders affectionately as she tried to soothe her, whispering pointless jokes into her ear until she laughed at one. After about his fourth round of nonsensical joking did Mahiru turn around and present him with a small grin; her tear-stained cheeks were glowing a light pink as she attempted to reassure him that she was not THAT distraught. He rewarded her with a small hug as he sat her down at the table and served them each a bowl of the delicious smelling soup. After they had been seated for a few minutes, and Mahiru had taken a few spoonfuls of the soothing meal, Akira decided to speak.

 

“Mahiru, it'll be all right. Mitsuru does appreciate all this…he's just not very good at expressing his emotions. He never has been. I'm only sorry that he hurt you with it this time.”

 

She chuckled a little, somewhat half-heartedly. “It's…okay Akira…I shouldn't have expected more of him so suddenly. How silly I am, sometimes…” She sniffled as the aroma of the soup invaded her nose, pleasantly. “But thank you…for cheering me up. I'm glad that you did.”

 

“Me too,” he answered, a large smile on his face. “Being sad doesn't suit you at all…it never has and it never will.”

 

She gave him a curious look as he rose to serve them some juice. `What did he mean it never has…?' Her question went unanswered as she continued consuming her soup, her frustration addled brain only somewhat really caring.

 

 

 

Meanwhile, their earlier display and escape had left Keiko and Mitsuru outside. Keiko shook her head, not feeling quite up to a full blown argument at the particular moment. Mitsuru seemed to understand this as he crossed his arms over his chest, breathing out slowly. She was the first to speak, still feeling quite ill as she walked a little closer to him. “Mitsuru,” she whispered quietly. “You have to at least TRY and be nicer to Mahiru…it's been such a long time…don't you think it's time you gave it up?”

 

He shot her a defiant glance. “Who's to say I haven't?”

 

She scowled. “Come on Mitsuru, you know you haven't. Why else would you have been so hostile to her in the kitchen? She's done nothing but been nice to you since she got back. Why don't you give her some credit? I know you're stubborn—we're kind of the same, in that aspect—but that stuff that happened was in the past. Just let it go.”

 

He turned away, annoyed. “Fine, I'll try. But it's hard when she's so…”

 

“Caring and oblivious?” Keiko offered, knowing it was hard for Mitsuru to admit anything. She wouldn't be some type of friend to him for nothing. Gesturing to the house, she nodded for them to go back inside. “Just this once, Mitsuru, try to do something that goes against what everyone says about you. Don't let them say who you are; you know that's not you, not deep down inside. We all know.”

 

He watched, somewhat in awe, as she disappeared through the door's entrée way, amazed that she was so like and not like Mahiru. `Well…they were friends for all those years.' A small smile placed his lips as he walked towards the door, pausing at the entrance when he saw Mahiru throw her head back and let out a peel of laughter he hadn't heard in years—one he'd loved hearing when they were younger. `You're back Mahiru…at least part of you is. And for that, I am grateful.'

 

TBC

 

(Okie, so I don't know if it's been noticed but there is an idea implanted in this story that does NOT belong to me. If you've seen in, well then…you're good. Or I am just crappy at concealing it from the plot! Either way, the idea is NOT mine so don't sue me for it. Also, this chapter was not pivotal and nothing REALLY exciting happened. There were hints that might open doors in the later chapters though—I think they're pretty obvious. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm trying not to make it move SUPER FAST so it seem unrealistic…but not SUPER slow either so it takes forever. It's kind of hard balancing the two. We'll see how we go? Please R&R, it's greatly appreciated. Thanks so much!)

 

Chocomintswirl