Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Sentium ❯ Frame 04 ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer:

I don't own fruits baskets.

Author's notes:

Ok wow you guys, its been forever and a day since I've updated, and I'm so massively sorry. I promise, that this will be updated at least every ten days from now on. I just got really caught up in some other things and had to focus on one story. Now, hopefully, I can balance two. Hopefully.

Sentium

Carpetfibers

Frame 04: Paths

Dedicatum: my first kiss

___________________

An ever changing current,

This river that drowns my soul.

It gathers,

And races,

Growling in the depths and

Ever crying out its dreams.

Dreams of truths,

Dreams of hopes,

Dreams tinged with nightmares,

Nightmares of reality.

It must be purged,

So I can believe.

I want to believe.

____________________

Strangely enough, the bare walls reminded him of the girl from earlier that morning. The only room in the entire mansion to be completely devoid of decoration, Akito's study was as plain as they came. The walls were left in the standard off white of office buildings, and the carpet kept in that lukewarm brown color that was generally stamped with descriptions of normal, ordinary, and forgettable. The two chairs that faced Akito's faded pine desk blended perfectly with the color's adjectives. The entire room left one with the feeling of having been forged into the woodwork.

As it was, it was this feeling that reminded Kyou of that girl. He had connected two with two after learning of the burglary, yet he hadn't said anything of her to Akito. If she had been the burglar, then he hoped she used the money well. Get out of that brothel; get out of Ishida. Still though, he would have liked to talk to her some more. There was a desperate childishness to her, a sense of an infant suddenly being given the wisdom and knowledge of the entire world's hurts and pains in her that attracted him.

If anything, he was thankful for the distraction from Kureno's continued prattle. Since his elder cousin's sudden reappearance into family affairs yesterday, the dull voiced man hadn't quit with his recital of the family's current financial state. Something or the other about their importing business being on the rise. And of course the usual bit about the upcoming religious festival.

Akito had been behind the choosing of Ritsu Sohma- supposedly a very distant member of their clan- as the head priest for the festival. He was an effeminate, sniveling man, who spent half his time making long winded speeches apologizing to everyone and his brother for whatever great sin he just committed. In Kyou's opinion, and most likely everyone else who had ever had the misfortune to meet the dotty man, Ritsu's greatest sin was to open his mouth.

Yet, for some reason or the other, Akito had quite adamantly insisted on Ritsu's appointment. Naturally, the mayor had buckled under. But this little 'favor trading' had left Akito short handed. Now it was the mayor who had the better part of the deck, parse, and the man was cracking down on this whole missing runaway business.

For the better of six months, the only kids to go missing were a few ragtag groups of girls. Most had run away from poor families with too many to feed, and too few to work. It had only been after a good friend of the mayor's daughter- a Hitomi Ginko- had disappeared as well that any concern had been given to the whole issue. Still though, when one had over five hundred teenagers, half of which were operating under fake names, and the other half under no name at all, it was, needless to say, a difficult task to keep track of who was present and who was not.

A system had been created; it was fabricated by none other than Akito's pet favorite, that damn Yuki. Some high tech computer crap that acted as a ticker. Each runaway was given a bracelet that they were to wear somewhere on their body. As they passed the doorway to the tenements, they would be counted and tracked. A series of new rules were reinstated as well; as long as the kids lived in Sohma housing, they were to abide by the street law. And the street law had but one posting: never cross the Sohma grounds after eleven.

Simplicity was considered the best avenue to maintain order. As Akito had put it once,

"Fear is the most base of human emotions. God gave it to us for a reason, and it'd be wasteful not to take advantage of the gift."

Kyou doubted the man had ever felt the emotion himself. Perhaps he'd have a slight bit more empathy otherwise. The runaways were a perplexing phenomenon. Years ago, before Sohma influence had reached the current level, Chiyo had been known for its beautiful riverfront, its bustling import/export business, and its thousands strong homeless population. It would have been no different from any other large metropolis, except that over half of these street addressed people were under the age of 20.

Every two years, a new mayor would be elected, the basis of his campaign having been to clean up the streets. And every two years, the promise would have fallen flat. But it was then that Akito Sohma had created his "housing project." It was, as he explained it, once again a simple thing. His businesses needed a work force, and these kids needed a place to live. He merely provided them with an address, and they returned the favor. The newly elected mayor was shrewd enough to see a good thing for what it was and turned a blind eye to the whole affair. Newspapers posted the declining unemployment rate, and the 'beautify the city projects' that were underway.

After two years, the mayor was re-elected, his new best friend none other than the Sohmas' fearless leader, the ever youthful Akito.

The once wide eyed, clean shaven mayor, who had entered office with clear shoulders and the proverbial heart on his sleeve, now sported the bearded masked look of a hardened businessman. His wife had exchanged her flowery print dresses for three piece suits and had bobbed her hair. She had a string of lovers on her side, almost matching her husband's own special line. But come the time for photos and editorials, the two looked the perfect image of a deeply in love couple who had completely mastered the difficult balance of a city and a family.

The morning paper had been headed with one such of these photos, the extreme hypocrisy of it driving Kyou to pass on his morning cup of chai. Even the half hour ride through the drizzling rain on his traded in Yamaha hadn't removed the drain the morning's paper had taken on him. As it was, apparently Kureno's never ending speech couldn't do it either.

"…finally, the last month's fiscal earning more than tripled the previous month's. This concludes the findings of my audit."

Finally? Finally he says? Kyou felt like releasing streamers or something, pulling out a bull horn and shouting congratulations at the top of his lungs. But a little humor at this point would be ill received. It was now time for the real reason for this morning's family meeting.

Akito had his assignments for the week. Namely, it would entail him describing whatever muscle work he wanted for Kyou to undertake, and giving Yuki some cushy job checking on a few of the "extracurricular" businesses Akito had under wraps. By extracurricular, these houses of trade dealt exclusively in the skin market. Brothels and "exotic dancing" bars. Whore houses and strip joints. It was all smoothly tailored over with quaint phrasing like, "bonus investments" or "community involvement" on the tax forms.

Akito stood up stiffly, waiting until everyone's attention was focused entirely on him. Clearing his throat- only for show of course, like the guy ever needed to work up energy for his voice- he tapped on the mahogany table's waxed finished top, his manicured nails strumming a not entirely unpleasant rhythm.

"Your duties have not changed from your prior assignments. However, I've decided that our newly acquired warehouse down by the docks may need some extra security. As some of you may have heard on your way into my office this morning, one of our Ishida contacts had the misfortune of being compromised."

Loosely translated, he was talking about that Tohru girl's little breaking and entering stint. Kyou bit back the grin that was fighting its way to the surface. Akito only used words like compromised and misfortune when he had been annoyed. Heavily annoyed. The past couple of week's rash of break ins was getting out of hand, and it had yet to be found out whether or not these break ins were organized.

"Kyou; I'm putting you on duty tonight. I don't expect a repeat of last time." Kyou nodded stiffly, more than a little put off by Akito's reference to the other night. He had been taking a quick round of a warehouse near his apartment, when he caught site of someone dressed in black racing down the street. As the rules stood, anyone caught on Sohma grounds after lights out stood receiving a punishment. The guy had looked small enough to not represent any real danger; unfortunately appearances are deceiving.

Kyou woke up two hours later with a screaming headache and pieces of metal scrapped into his ribs. Plus he was still heading off a cold from his ventures out in the rain.

"Added onto the extra guard duty, I want you to make nightly rounds into Ishida. I want you to interview the locals; find out about any new faces that have been making their way into the neighborhood. You'll be excused from that duty after you've given me a name and a face."

The steady tapping stopped abruptly, signaling the end of the meeting. A charming smile lit Akito's pale face, almost as if he was bidding farewell to guests from a formal dinner.

Kyou was the first out the door. Thankfully so in his mind.

______________

Interlude .10: Quaking

The wind left a letter this morning;

Hidden back behind the eaves.

Among a few dusty books,

I found it.

Make way for the spring, it read.

Rebirth is coming soon.

Light up your dressings,

Sprinkle on the sunshine,

And don't forget to don a smile!

I put the letter back,

Sealing it closed.

Who cares for a spring that'll only end?

I don't.

_________________

It was foolish; she knew it all too well. Trying this sort of thing on no sleep and little food- it simply oozed with foolishness, every slimy tendril coating her movements. But she also operated on the maxim that there was no time like the present. And surely, her inner voice argued, they'd never expect her to hit again so soon. Nor on such a grand scale.

Tohru had learned of the new warehouse from some rumor passing around in the tenements. One of the older boys- a Fujio something- had been given guard duty during the morning. She had walked up on his group just as he was telling the newer recruits about the boxes and boxes of papers that had been delivered during his watch. It had been too good of a piece of information to let pass, and as it was a warehouse, she knew that the longer she waited, the more likely the chance that the papers would be moved on to wherever they were to go.

As it was, she now found herself sandwiched tightly between two large crates, praying that the small amount of moonlight seeping in through the high rectangular windows wouldn't scatter her shadow into the open space beside her. The guard, his gut just barely held back by his uniform, made a quick dash with his flashlight, not lingering in the corner long. As soon as his footsteps faded, Tohru released her breath and squeezed back out onto the main floor. She hadn't expected there to be any guard at all, and had been unpleasantly surprised by his sudden entrance.

Stuffing her penlight into her mouth, she knelt back into the dust and grime and continued her perusal through the files she had found. Each crate had been numbered and then dated, making her search infinitely easier. If she had been forced to look through every box- she glanced up to the towering crates surrounding her nook and shuddered- it would have taken forever. Still though, even with it narrowed down, it was hard to make out what was just number gibberish and what was important. Mostly she wanted to find something that named a place- maybe for shipment or disposal; anything that could potentially stand for the shipping of the missing girls.

She paused for a moment, the paper between her fingers sticking thickly to her skin. She wouldn't allow herself to consider what had happened to her friends. She wanted only to find them- still though. Sitting in the bowels of this warehouse brought out a sense of the ironic again. Could anyone have imagined her to be in this kind of situation? Closing her eyes, she focused on the paper still gripped tightly. Somewhere in this jumble of information had to be what she needed. She just couldn't understand the numbers- it made no sense! What she really needed was a key…some kind of legend to translate it all into the literate.

A shallow step made her stiffen, almost dropping the penlight from her mouth. Biting down on it, she slowly stood up, clutching the papers tightly. She edged closer to the sound, keeping herself deep within the shadows. A figure outlined ahead of her, the moonlight revealing a shock of red hair. He was speaking with the guard, something about added security. A curt nod followed the instructions, and the red haired man brought a whistle to his mouth. Tohru stared in fascination, the whistle triggering some kind of warning in the back of her mind.

He pursed his lips, but no sound was emitted. Realization hit her immediately, and fear set in. Dogs- it was a whistle for dogs! Tossing aside any semblance of keeping silent, she dropped her penlight and ran straight forward, knocking the red haired man to the ground. She caught a glimpse of his face as he fell, the features compounded with surprise and anger- it was him! The man from the tea house- Kyou Sohma! Locking that knowledge away, she dodged past the overweight guard. Behind her came the sound of slightly dulled barks.

Each crate seemingly grew in size as she raced past them, losing herself quickly in the myriad of boxes. She was searching for one thing- the window that she had slipped through. It had been hidden behind one of those crate towers, and amazingly enough, had been bar-less. The barking had grown louder and she could make out the sound of pounding feet, eight paws striking the ground, each step pulling them closer. Her breath grew ragged as she turned another corner. Was this place endless?

The rights and lefts soon grew into each other as the pounding drew even closer. In between the barks, she could make out snarls and gnashing teeth. How could she have been so foolish? She should have checked the place before- if she had… Adrenaline spurred her on; pushing her beyond what her sleep deprived body should have been capable of. Where was that window? She chanced a glance behind her- and her eyes flashed in alarm. Too close! Too close!

A flash of blue on her right struck a chord of familiarity, and she turned instinctively. Yes…now she was recognizing it. She followed the line of blue arrowed crates towards the eastern wall. The panting behind her felt too warm, too close. Almost there, almost there she chanted internally. With a final burst of energy she threw herself upwards, onto the crate that had been her step into the warehouse. Drawing herself to the window, she released her breath and pushed against it.

Nothing. Her eyes flew open and she pushed harder. Again nothing. Desperate now, she threw her whole shoulder into the window. It didn't even budge. Somehow, her window had been locked. Fear driven, she looked below her. The dogs still were jumping and clawing at the crates, their snarls growing in volume. Somewhere behind them would be the guard and the red haired Sohma. She could try facing the dogs- as if somehow queued in on this idea, the Dobermans increased their frenzy- or she could climb over to the next stack of crates. Tohru bit down on her lip; she had no time to think over this! Forcing her eyes to remain open, she leapt to the next stack of crates, the hollow boxes rocking heavily under her.

The dogs' barking grew subdued, and she could make out over them the voices of the two men. Still crossing her fingers, she dove for the next stack, her foot stumbling on the ledge. She tried catching her balance, but the damage had already been done. The top box rushed forward, the ones under it following suit. She could only close her eyes as she began to fall. And so it was that she completely missed a black gloved hand diving out to grab her own. And so it also was that she nearly had her arm jerked out of the socket.

The pain was enough to jerk her brown eyes open again, immediately meeting those of the one who had saved her. Two familiar mahogany eyes met her own, a hidden bit of amusement caught in them.

"You ran to the wrong window," he whispered, the laughter in his voice openly apparent. Conscious of her precarious stance, Tohru nodded and reached up with her other hand. In one smooth pull, Haru slipped her back through the window and into the cool night air. For a moment she just rested on his chest, her breath racing far faster than normal.

"We really need to quit meeting this way," he said finally, helping her to stand up.

Tohru blushed and stepped away from his hands. "What were you doing here?"

He brushed his hands on his jeans, black just like hers. "Probably same thing you were doing. I wanted a quick look through those documents."

At the mention of papers, Tohru immediately looked down at her now empty hands. Her heart sunk; it had all been for nothing. There was no way she'd be able to break in again.

"Are you missing something?" There was something in his voice that made her think his comment was a little too innocent. She narrow her eyes; was his jacket bulging?

"Missing some papers, perhaps?" His smile and laughter were completely gone and the cold persona had taken over. The adrenaline was quickly fading away as well; all she felt was an intense weariness. She felt almost too far gone to even care about the papers. Struggling up for some energy, she conjured her friends' images. Focus on them, only on them.

"They're of no importance to you, so just give them back." She held out her hand expectantly, but he dodge d her demand.

"I suggest, if we're going to continue this conversation, that we go someplace a little less public." Without waiting for a response, his gloved hand once again gripped her own. The weariness threatened to overwhelm her and her voice came out weakly.

"Please, you don't need these papers. They're just numbers- they won't be able to help you-" She stumbled, almost falling. Since when had it become so difficult to walk?

He turned around, almost as if just realizing she was there.

"Please…Haru, I need them." The pleading in her voice made her wince. She sounded so weak- how could she help her friends if she was weak?

He knelt down to her level, pulling her chin up to meet his eyes. For a minute he simply stared, as she, too weak to do little else, returned the stare. He stood just as abruptly and shoved the file into her hands. Almost too shocked to make sense of it, Tohru slipped entirely to the ground, her knees having buckled beneath her.

Without turning around, he asked, "Would you help me? Would you help me find my sister?"

She stared at the papers, and then at his black clothed back with the shock white hair above it. A small smile found its way to her lips. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad having some help- her mother used to say that two was always better than one when it came to accomplishing something.

Or maybe she was just too exhausted to care.

"Yes," she answered finally. Immediately, his shoulders slumped forward, some hidden tension having loosened itself. Her own shoulders mimicked the action as she felt two strong arms pick her up. She was barely conscious of his voice, only a few words making their way into her consciousness, two in particular.

"…thank you."

_________________

Interlude .11: Drummer boy Stan

Hush now, sweet child,

Everything's alright.

Look, see the sky?

It promises future rainbows,

Clouds for tomorrow,

And the sun peaking through.

Hush now,

My sweet child.

Everything's alright.

Ignore the blood-

It's nothing.

Pay no attention to the news,

War is just a story,

No one ever dies.

Hush now.

Hush.

__________________

She was waiting for him this time around. She didn't even look up as he entered the room, the door closing behind him almost silently. He stopped, staring at the back of her head, taking the moment to gather his thoughts. He would have preferred to skip the meeting altogether, spend the night alone with a glass of red wine and some more of his Brahms, but something had called him out into the seeds of the city. That he would willingly choose to enter into this belly of filth and meet with a nameless girl truly showed him how far gone he was.

She finally stirred at the sound of his footfall. Yuki remained silent, choosing instead to let her begin talking. After all, she was under his command, was she not? She was the employed, not he. Holding his grey eyes steady, he waited. Without any preamble, the girl who had only identified herself as Honami to him, began her report, her fingers playing with the edge of her sleeve.

Fascinated by the youthful gesture, the words came subliminally.

"…four more missing, all of them having only recently arrived in Chiyo. Included this time was a boy. He had been one of the volunteers to stand guard." Something like a laugh slipped through from under her words, drawing his attention back to her report and away from her slender white fingers. Like a pianist's or- the thought escaped him.

"A boy as well?" he asked, slipping into one of the room's worn chairs. As it had done the first time, the chair groaned loudly, the metal springs sounding like an orchestra from the streets. Trash cans and hungry hands gripping dented lids.

"He probably fell asleep; I knew of him. A lot of talk and little actual action to follow it up." She shrugged, as if those few words explained away his disappearance.

"And the girls- anything unusual about them? Any family backgrounds we should be aware of?" He avoided her eyes, something in them was different tonight, and instead refocused on her fingers that had returned to their cat like play with her sleeve's edge. The threads were growing frayed.

"Just one of them; she had been a close friend to that other rich girl who had been taken, Haruka. They had come together just two weeks ago. According to rumors, they were here for reasons other than escaping prep school."

He looked up from her dancing fingers, his grey eyes flashing some emotion that Tohru couldn't entire make out. But disinterest took over the gaze and he shrugged, as if mimicking hers from earlier.

"I wouldn't worry about them too much. Undercover reporters apparently. The Haruka girl, we traced her back to an independent newspaper from up north. The rich family bit was just her hoping to plant interest."

The fingers fell away, gripping onto the sides of dark jeans. Her eyes fell to the table, the worn linoleum coating making a pattern of age across its circular length.

"Undercover reporters?" she echoed.

Again Yuki shrugged; it didn't concern him. "Yeah, this wouldn't be the first bunch to disappear. These kids show up, thinking they've landed the story of their lives. After a few weeks, they return to their gopher jobs scouting out better coffee deals. Although I vaguely remember, two other reporters having disappeared. Journalists or the other-"

"What did you say?" her voice was kept low, but intense. She had risen from her chair so abruptly that it now folded to the floor, the sound probably starting some joking from the floor below. Whore house humor was always one tracked.

Yuki didn't answer. He reached inside his coat, pulling out his silver cigarette case. Ignoring her glare, he slipped out a cigarette, pausing only to offer her one. From her lack of response, he re-pocketed it. Soon a cloud a smoke was added to the already stuffy room.

Just as abruptly, she pulled the chair back up and took a seat. The sleeve's edge now stood completely unraveled, pieces of thread dangling like snakes across her hand. Once again, his eyes were drawn to the motion. Not quite like a musician's fingers, nor a painter's… His own eyes closed as he searched out what his mind was connecting her fingers to. And then it came.

"Like a cook's." He smiled across the table at her, satisfied to have found the quandary.

Her glare could have nailed him to the wall.

Letting loose another fog of smoke, he explained. "Your fingers; they're like a cook's. Do you cook?"

Caught off guard, she answered. "I used to…"

But then she was all business. She had no time to sit here chatting about her prior cooking days. It was the past; and the past was to stay where it originated- on the calendar pages of yesteryear, thrown away and recycled.

"Is there anything else you wanted to know about?"

Yuki regarded her closely. Again, that strange draw she emitted- he felt as if he was being pulled, and not entirely against his will. Behind those angry eyes and cold words was a girl who had once spent time in a kitchen, in some anonymous city, with a faceless family. Why trade all that for this kind of place?

Shaking his head, as if to clear his thoughts, he stubbed out his cigarette. He really didn't like to smoke, but somehow, the smoke itself felt cleaner than the Ishida air.

"No, that's fine. Thank you for your help."

She looked up, startled by the gratitude, and then nodded. "When would you like me to report again?"

"What's your name?" he asked softly, his voice still toned strangely. Tohru broke off from his eyes, finding strength back in the table's linoleum.

"I've already told you…" she answered just as softly.

"Then you can go. Two days from now, in this room. I'll make the arrangements downstairs."

She rose quickly, mindful this time of the chair. Unconsciously, she tucked a piece of her brown hair behind her ear. The gesture seemed to paralyze Yuki to his chair. The words in his throat stuck- a hundred different memories racing through his mind. Now he could place her- she looked, acted, even sounded just like her…

Kagura…

She didn't wait for him to wake up from his reveries, instead, taking the silence as a call to leave. Down the stairs and through the front lobby she went, ignoring the curious looks from the tea house's patrons. She barely caught the good humored wink from Aiko as she shut the double doors behind her and stepped into the cool night air.

As stagnant as the atmosphere in Ishida could be, the sidewalk was a place far easier to breath than Aiko's small second floor room. Something had been different tonight in their meeting. Her dislike for this certain Sohma had not been lessened in the least, but his manner seem less formal, and distracted. And that comment about her fingers- she had been thrown off kilter. How could he have known about that? Tohru had also seen the difference in his eyes, they had been less guarded- not necessarily alive, but in motion. The words he spoke had felt as if double layered, as if he was passing on some hidden message in each simple phrase.

Once again, her feet were carrying her across familiar grounds, retracing the steps she had taken to reach the teahouse this evening. Bypassing Dayu entirely, she made her way to the harbor, to the port. Even this late at night, the bars that lined the boardwalk were wide awake and teaming with customers. Known for its many visual pleasures, the Mahozaki district, or 'Zaki as it was called among the locals, had business hours much like its Ishida neighbor.

Tohru had few qualms about walking alone this late at night, even with her "disguise" dropped. It didn't really make much of a difference in this part of town, girl or boy, most people in 'Zaki could care less. A few moments of visceral pleasure was what people came down for. In between the neon lit bars, the shadowy outline of couples could be made out, their hushed grunts and moans blending in with the pounding pulse of the techno music sported from all sides.

Rounding the second block of bars and darkened alleys, she entered the more quiet side of the port, the shipping yard. Groups of sailors returning to their ships after a port call were scattered across the square. The dimly lit street lamps cast shadows over them, smearing their faces and bodies into giant black blobs, without face or sex. It was like something a small child dreams of and then wakes, screaming.

A rusted staircase began a few inches of the ground, and at the fall of her weight, screamed its awakening into the square. Whatever neighbors the sound may have reached were either too far drunk to care, or too used to it to bother. At the third stage, she knelt by a curtained window- canvas mixed with some other material, a pathetic attempt to create an "at home" atmosphere. After a short knock, the window flew open and she crept in, the stair again screaming at her weight's sudden absence.

"I thought you might have had some trouble getting here."

"No trouble."

"Sometimes the people at the bars can be aggressive."

"I'll remember that."

"Coffee?"

"Tea if you have any," and added as an afterthought, "please."

She sat the neat wooden table, the chair beneath her solidly placed against the floor. A steaming cup was shoved in her waiting hands, and the seat across from her taken. After a sip, she met his eyes, the same color as hers, but shades of difference.

"Time for business?" she asked. He nodded, his white hair falling across his face gracelessly.

"I thought so." She sighed and sipped again at the tea. A small smile came to her lips, suggestive of a past once filled with an abundance of such expressions. Haru's lips curved upwards as well. Indeed, the tea was good.

When so much wasn't, at least this little was.

Good that is.

_________________

Interlude .12: Cotton fields

Half and half.

Black.

Two cups milk.

No, thank you,

Just one sugar.

Oh, I'm sorry,

Excuse me-

I'm only passing through.

Watch your feet, dear!

Try keeping your eyes on the road!

Where are you going? You idiot…

Can't you see the two lines?

Both yellow,

Spiraling, passing, fading

In and out like a tasteless broth.

I almost forgot!

Good morning, dear…

___________________

Author's Notes:

Ok, it was brought up to me in a really great review that there may be some confusion. When I mentioned Akito's little tramp and followed it by Rin, and so on- I meant Rin was the little tramp. Yeah, so I'm think I may go back and try to clear that one up for y'all.

On to thanking my reviewers, a much delayed thing.

Special thanks goes out to:

Megami No Hikari,

Sakura Avalon or Kinomoto,

Inu87yasha,

Amy,

Silver magiccraft,

Merei-chan,

Tenshi no Ai,

Mae,

Runic,

Grrl N,

Lovely Heart,

Shirubaa,

Erithe,

Eriedragon,

Aoko,

Dark Phoenix,

Mellerz,

Sleeep,

Brianna,

And……

Yen!

Phew…that's all of you guys! Thanks again for your patience. And like I said, I'm going to try hard and get this out quicker. Along with Beginnings. Expect a chapter for that one either tomorrow or Friday.

Love you all!

Carpet