Friday's Children are Full of Woe (a continuing story)

[rndmnwierd]

Yay, the awkward conversation chapters. I like how they were both thinking along the same lines with alcohol.

[nkca_]

mmm... so both of them are really scared about where their relationship is leading, i mean miki knows what she wants but she is too scared to do something, serious, about it and aya kind of knows what she wants and what miki wants but she is still being conservative and morals first and what is people going to think if i do this or that so she denies her feelings and miki's too in the process so....that leaves us in...nothing ¬¬ ekekek anyway i believe aya is the one that has to make a move cause she knows what they both want but miki seems really clueless, and i'm ranting way too much so now i'll only say, i'm very much looking forward to the next chapter

[edhead999]

It IS pretty hard to forget the alternate version though... with the overprotective Yuko and the blackmarket Nacchi... and the Miki singing like a yankee... then of course the "lets get drunk and have sex". But I'll try .

Anyway, for some reason when I read the last two chapters I felt as if Aya was being a little biased to make her look like the better person... dunno, but IMO Keita sounded like the more mature person in the breakup scene... yeah.

[JFC]

"Did he cry?"

I can't resist asking.  I've got to kick the guy while he's down. 

...

"Miki!" she chastises me, but she quickly adds, "no."

Damnit, I think, followed by an inward chuckle.

Now the next question I need an answer to.

Have I mentioned just how awesome Miki is?

"Did you cry?"

I don't think she did, but if there's a chance she did, I have to know.

She delights me by pointing to her face, giving me an excuse to stare at her unabashedly.

"Does it look like I've been crying?" she deadpans.

Her eyes aren't red, her cheeks aren't wet (not even from the rain), and her eyeliner and mascara exist only where they were meant to exist, not streaking down her cheeks.

She's just being thorough, that's all.

It'll help her settle back into the rhythm.  Our rhythm.  We have our own special rhythm that nobody else can match

I want things to be back to the way they were before... before... before what?  I want things to be normal?  What's normal with us?  Do we even have a normal groove?

They think along the same lines, how can that NOT be a sign that they're meant to be together?

"So... good..." Miki drawls.

It's good that I'm single?  Why?  Does she want to introduce me to someone?  Does she think I neglected our friendship because I was dating someone?  Will I ever stop questioning the reasons and motives behind everything she says?

Ah the naiveity...rather cute despite the fact that you want to smack her and say "HOLY CRAP HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE WHAT'S GOING ON!?!?"

[OTN1]

It IS pretty hard to forget the alternate version though... with the overprotective Yuko and the blackmarket Nacchi... and the Miki singing like a yankee... then of course the "lets get drunk and have sex". But I'll try .

It was fun!  Maybe I'll do something like that again one day.

Anyway, for some reason when I read the last two chapters I felt as if Aya was being a little biased to make her look like the better person... dunno, but IMO Keita sounded like the more mature person in the breakup scene... yeah.

That's the danger (or beauty) of first person narration.  It's a completely biased point of view.   It can make people sound like total idiots.

It feels like it's been a while.  Do you guys still remember what's happened in this story?  Hahaha!  Here's some more.

The Phone Call

7.1

A week after the unpublicised break-up of Aya and Keita, Miki and Aya were lounging around at the former's apartment in the evening, reading magazines and mumbling occasional and unimportant observations about what they were reading to each other.

Aya's phone began to ring, and so she answered it as Miki continued reading, not looking up.

"Hi, Aya-chan," Keita's voice came from the phone.  He sounded neither cheerful nor upset.

"Ehh..." Aya let out a strange mumble, looking at Miki, who didn't seem to notice.  "Hi."

She hadn't expected a phone call from him.  She let him continue.

"I was just calling to ask something."

"Sure.  What is it?" Aya asked, her surprise morphing into curiosity.

"Are we still friends?"

"Are we still friends?" she repeated back immediately, but then quickly lowered her voice.  "Umm..."

She took a moment before answering.

"Do you want to be?" she asked.

"Do you?"

Miki closed her magazine, finished with it, and she looked across at Aya briefly as if confirming she was there before inspecting the pile of magazines for something interesting.

"Uh, I... sure?"

"Is this a bad time?" Keita asked, a frown in his voice.

"No no no," Aya said quickly.  "I'm just, um, surprised you called."

"So are we still friends?  I wouldn't mind.  Just as long as I don't have to see Fujimoto-san."

"As long as... Mi- uh, huh?" Aya sputtered in surprise.

"So can we be?"

"S-sure.  But, um, I mean how can we be if, you know, if being seen together looks like... you know..."

There was a silence over the phone.

"I guess you're right," Keita said dejectedly.

"Well, no," Aya quickly interjected before he could get too depressed.  "I mean, it's just a practical thought.  But, um, we can still mail each other and, um..."

Keita sighed.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"And if it's not just the two of us, then it's okay to go out," Aya said very quietly into the phone.

Miki got up and poured herself more tea, going back to the table and opening up another magazine and leafing through it.

"I understand," Keita said, now a smile apparent in his voice.

Aya smiled a bit, too.

"That's all I really wanted to ask.  I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing.  See you around."

"Bye bye," Aya said quietly, and she hung up.

She put her phone away and went back to her magazine after casting a glance at Miki, who was still reading.  Aya turned to the horoscope page.

"So, who was that?" Miki asked conversationally.  "It sounded classified."

She laughed at her own joke, which annoyed Aya.

"Nobody important," she said.

"Oh, you mean Tachibana?" Miki asked with a raised eyebrow and a devilish smirk.

Aya's silence told her she was right.

"Was he calling to get his things back?"

"No!" Aya exclaimed.  "He just wanted to know if we could still be friends."

Miki nodded.

"I see.  And?"

"Well, I told him yeah, but we can't hang out together.  Not just the two of us, at least," Aya mumbled.

"Oh, okay," Miki said, taking a hint to tone down the mean streak.  "Anything else?"

Aya shook her head.

"No.  That was it."

Miki nodded a few times, taking it in, and then she looked down at her magazine.

"Says here that soaking stinky feet in a solution of vinegar and water will help get rid of the smell."

Aya's face screwed up into one of surprise.  What a strange thing to segue into.

"Ew, Miki-chan, that's gross.  I don't have smelly feet, and neither do you."

They continued to read for another half an hour and then went to get dinner.

[OTN1]

7.2

I'm sitting in the living room of Miki's apartment and flipping through a magazine half-heartedly.  I'm reading, but I'm not really paying attention to the information.  In my mind, I keep replaying the events of the past month.  Things have been busy, and not just with work.  My life - my social life - has been full of happenings namely involving two people.  The two main characters.  It hasn't been easy because their roles have fluctuated radically.  One moment, one is the protagonist and the other the antagonist.  The next, it's the other way around.

Miki's role has been the hardest to decipher.  She's completely on my side.  There's no doubt about it.  But there's something about her that has me worried.  I think her treatment of Keita has been particularly harsh.  I know he's hopelessly stupid and boring, but what she seems to feel for him borders on hatred of the violent variety.  I can't figure out the reason why!

Stirring me from my thoughts is the sound of my cell phone ringing.  I pick it up and check the number, but it's blocked.  I answer anyway with a "hello."

"Hi, Aya-chan."

I blink in surprise.  It's Keita.  Why is he calling me now?

"Ehh..." I utter, trying to think of what to say to him.

I look at Miki, but she's not paying attention.  She's reading her magazine with a stoic face.

"Hi."

"I was just calling to ask something."

"Sure," I say, suddenly turning curious.

What could he possibly want to ask me?  It'd better not be about getting back together.  That's never going to happen.

"What is it?"

"Are we still friends?" he asks.

Now there's a question.

"Are we still friends?" I repeat without thinking.

It's too loud!  I avoid looking at Miki and I lower my voice, turning my head a bit to the side.  All of a sudden I feel very uncomfortable having this conversation.  The two main characters of my recent life have managed to come onto the scene together once again.

"Umm... Do you want to be?"

If I throw the question back at him, maybe we can finish this conversation without me having to say too much on my side.  I can just agree with whatever Keita says.

"Do you?"

His question is a monkey wrench thrown into the cogwheel that is spinning my idea.

Just then, Miki closes her magazine and looks at me for a split second as if she's just surveying the room and reorienting herself after an intense read and I happen to be in her line of sight.  She looks away and I try not to wither under that brief of a gaze.  I feel like I'm doing something wrong.  But why should I?  I'm just talking to someone on the phone.  I watch as she looks through the pile of magazines, and I wonder what she would think if she was paying attention to my conversation.

"Uh, I... sure?" I reply to Keita's question distractedly.

"Is this a bad time?" he asks.

I can hear a frown in his tone.

"No no no," I say quickly, paying attention to him again.  "I'm just, um, surprised you called."

I look at Miki out of the corner of my eye.  She's found another magazine and seems to be absorbed in it.

But why am I looking at her? I ask myself.  I tear my eyes away from her and look straight ahead at the wall.

"So are we still friends?" Keita asks hopefully.  "I wouldn't mind.  Just as long as I don't have to see Fujimoto-san."

Miki?! I think.  What is with him and Miki??

"As long as... Mi- uh, huh?" I sputter in surprise, quickly cutting myself off before I say Miki's name out loud and alert her that she's the subject of discussion.

I look over at her, but she's still reading.  I wonder if she's noticed or not.

"So can we be?" Keita asks, not bothering to explain why he's brought up Miki.

I know that he doesn't get along with her, but again, she has nothing to do with him and me.

"S-sure.  But, um, I mean how can we be if, you know, if being seen together looks like... you know..." I trail off.

It doesn't matter whether we're friends or enemies.  If we're even spotted standing in the same train car, people will assume that we're still dating, and the magazines will go nuts taking their pictures and writing their exaggerated articles about our torrid love affair.

My reply causes Keita to stay silent for a moment.  He finally says, "I guess you're right."

"Well, no," I interrupt quickly, feeling guilty for many things, including having been a bad girlfriend.  "I mean, it's just a practical thought.  But, um, we can still mail each other and, um..."

I must sound pretty lame.  It's not as if I totally hate his guts.  I just don't want to be associated with him in that way, and unfortunately, in the public eye, that's how we will always be viewed as until we get married to different people.  My career is not worth losing over an association with him, be it in love or in friendship.  Whether I like it or not, the public has a large say in whether I get to keep my career as successful as it is now.

It suddenly hits me.  Will there ever be anything more important to me than my career?  Will I ever be so hopelessly in love with something or someone that I would quit my job without any second thoughts or regrets?  Sometimes it feels like there is something in my life that I'd do that for, but I don't know what it would be.  Sometimes it feels like nothing could ever take me away from what I love to do - singing and performing.

Keita sighs and I remember he's on the line.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he concedes.

"And if it's not just the two of us, then it's okay to go out," I add very quietly, stealing another glance at Miki.

Surely I can't ask her to chaperone us if we ever decided to meet and chat over coffee.  Someone would end up dead.  I find myself hoping it would be Keita and not Miki.  Just then, Miki stands up and goes to pour herself another cup of tea.  I watch through my peripheral vision as she walks back to the table and gets another magazine out of the pile.  She starts to leaf through it as I wonder just how much of my conversation she's listening to.

Again, Keita interrupts my wandering thoughts.

"I understand," he says.

He sounds a little more cheerful.  It's as if he's on the same wavelength as me and understands what I'm getting at.  That's a rare thing for us.  I smile.

"That's all I really wanted to ask," he says, bringing our conversation to an abrupt end.  "I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing.  See you around."

I refrain from sighing in relief.  I'm glad our talk has been short.  I'd much rather not go on and on about these things with Miki in the room.  It's just... wrong.

"Bye bye," I say softly, and I cut the connection, putting my phone away and picking up the same magazine I was reading before the call.

I glance quickly at Miki.  She's still reading.  She must be curious what I talked about.  Who I talked to.  I can sense anticipation in the air, although maybe it's just my imagination.  Or maybe I want her to ask me.  I'm a bit nervous about what she might be assuming, and I'm also wondering if she caught my slip up when I almost said her whole name out loud.

"So, who was that?  It sounded classified," Miki asks, breaking out into that ridiculous laugh of hers.

I huff in annoyance.  I don't know why.  I mean, I asked for it - for her to say something - but somehow her turning it into a joke makes me not want to tell her anything.  I want her to take it more seriously because... I don't know.

"Nobody important," I reply curtly.

"Oh, you mean Tachibana?" she asks, raising her eyebrow and smirking at me in that evil way of hers.

I'll admit that I like the look because she looks so bad that it's cute, but I find myself regretting ever wanting her to ask me about the call.  I don't want to talk about Keita with her.  I don't want her to ask what we talked about.  She might get mad or upset, and ever since ditching her those times, I've wanted to do nothing to bother her too much.

I've been silent for too long, and she's smart enough to figure out what that means.

"Was he calling to get his things back?" she asks.

His things?  What things?  It's not like he and I moved in together!  It's not like he ever kept a toothbrush or an extra shirt at my place.  The nerve of her saying that when she knows perfectly well it's not the case.

"No!" I exclaim. "He just wanted to know if we could still be friends."

There, I've told her.  Now I know she's going to ask more.  It strikes me that she just said that to get a rise out of me and make me tell her the truth.

Miki, you tricky fiend...

"I see.  And?" she asks, not showing any reaction. 

I know that she can't possibly be happy about me being friends with him, but to her credit, she doesn't make a big fuss.  Not yet, anyway.

"Well, I told him yeah, but we can't hang out together.  Not just the two of us, at least," I mumble back.

I start to regret what I've told Keita.  Maybe I should have just told him that it's a bad idea to be friends.  I don't think I could ever live it down if Miki got angry at me and stopped being my friend just because I stayed friends with Keita.  In the grand scheme of things, she's way more important than him.

No, that sounds weird.  I don't mean like that.  I mean we're friends and we understand each other and she's not boring or stupid or- well, sometimes she's stupid, but she's not actually stupid.  She's pretty smart, and I'm sure she could do anything she wanted.  She's got street smarts for sure.  Her book smarts aren't the greatest, but with a little application and studying she-

Breathe! I command myself.

Sometimes I get too carried away thinking about Miki and I get off topic and completely forget what I was thinking before.  Is that weird?  Maybe.  But she just has so much potential...

"Oh, okay," says Miki.  Maybe she thinks my deeply pensive look is some sort of hint to tone it down, because she seems to take it down a notch.  "Anything else?"

I shake my head and say, "No.  That was it."

I purposely leave out the fact that her name was mentioned.  I instinctively know that it's not a good topic to bring up.  Awkward with a capital "a."

Miki nods a few times and then looks down at her magazine.

"Says here that soaking stinky feet in a solution of vinegar and water will help get rid of the smell."

Out of all the things to say, that's the last I expect.  Why is she talking about stinky feet and vinegar?  We're supposed to be talking about me!

I don't attempt to hide my surprise.

"Ew, Miki-chan, that's gross," I sniff.  "I don't have smelly feet, and neither do you."

Despite the weirdness, however, I need to accept that this is simply the way Miki is.  I have a feeling I haven't heard the last from her on this topic (Keita and I possibly being friends), but for now, I'll let her keep her silence.  In fact, as I've said before, I prefer not to talk about that guy with her because he's not worth it.  Our time is too precious.

We continue on as if the phone call hasn't happened, and I have the same difficulty concentrating on what I'm reading.  All I can think about now are Miki and Keita and how I'm trapped in a situation that feels ridiculously like a love triangle.

Am I ever glad when dinner time rolls around.

[OTN1]

7.3

I've managed to get Aya over here to hang out.  She's been so busy with her tour and rehearsals with Melon and W that we've barely even spoken to each other all week.  I've captured her for one evening, which is nice for the both of us.  Our respective work ended relatively early, so we have come to my place to lounge about.  I'm starting to get hungry, though, so I'm soon going to suggest we go and find dinner.

I feel much calmer these days.  Ever since Aya dumped Keita, I've felt like a weight has been taken off my shoulders.  It's funny how that works.  I don't have to worry about her thinking he's more important than I am, because now he's totally out of the picture.

Now that he's gone, though, I've been thinking about what to do.  Should I say anything?  Or just let things go on as they are?  If I say something, I could mess everything up forever.  If I let things go, I may never get a shot at what I want.  On the other hand, if I say something, I might get exactly what I want.  And if I let things go, they might drift naturally in the direction I want them to drift in.

Ug.  Decisions.  I hate them.  But this one is easy to make.  I'm a chicken around Aya, or at least about this one very important thing, so I won't say a word.  I'll let my feelings hover in the air around me.  Maybe she's perceptive enough to pick up on them.  Sometimes I get the feeling that she can sense them, but it's probably all in my head.  Sometimes she says or does something that makes me think she's thinking the same way.  But I'm wrong.  I have to be.

These are the things I think as I pretend to read a magazine.  Secretly, I'm not even looking at the words on the pages.  I'm sneaking glances at Aya, wondering what she's thinking.  Sometimes she makes a comment about what she's reading, so I force myself to reply.

We've been sitting there for about twenty minutes when the phone rings.  Aya's phone.  I don't look up.  I pretend to continue reading as she answers cheerfully and waits for the person to be identified.

"Ehh... Hi," she says.

My ears perk up.  I can't help but wonder who she's talking to.  She seems surprised and maybe not too thrilled.  If she's being harassed, I can help her find an excuse to get off the phone.

I don't show my interest, though, and I stare at an ad for shampoo as though it's a riveting piece of artwork.

"Sure.  What is it?" Aya asks.

She now sounds curious.

"Are we still friends?" she asks in surprise.

My heart drops.  It sounds like she's repeating a question, and the only person I can think of that would ask her something like that is the number one person on my hate list.

Tachibana.

I steal another glance at her, and she looks horrified at having repeated the question out loud.

Does she not want me to hear?  Why?

"Uh..." she pauses for a long while.  "Do you want to be?"

What I wouldn't give to be able to hear Tachibana's side of the conversation, too.  How dare he call her after she's told him she doesn't want to see him anymore?  Who does he think he is trying to weasel his way into her life again?  He's supposed to be out of it.

I close my magazine angrily.  I look up and my eyes meet Aya's for a millisecond.  I want to give her a hurt look.  One that asks why she's on the phone with my enemy when she's at my place.  But I don't.  I look away and look around the room, pretending to reorient myself.  I start to go through the pile of magazines that's on the table, pretending to look for something that will top what I have just supposedly read.

"Uh, I... sure?" Aya says distractedly.

Did I just distract her?  Did I make her remember that I'm in here, too?

"No no no," Aya responds quickly, trying to deny something.  I wonder what.  "I'm just, um, surprised you called."

I am, too.  Very surprised.  Now hang up before I grab the phone from you and yell some sense into that wallflower's ear.

"As long as... Mi- uh, huh?" Aya sputters in surprise.

I almost jerk my head up when I hear the first syllable of my name.  Was that was she was about to say?  My name?  Why are they talking about me?

I feel humiliated.  Here I am in my own apartment while my best friend is chatting to her ex-boyfriend about me right in front of my face.  It feels even worse because of what I feel for my best friend.  Isn't she going to jump to my defence?  I'm sure he can't be saying anything polite.

"S-sure.  But, um, I mean how can we be if, you know, if being seen together looks like... you know..."

She's speaking far more quietly than when the conversation started, but I can still hear every single word.  I just want to walk out because I can't believe what I'm hearing.  If I'm hearing it right, that is.  Are those two going to start hanging out again?  I can't believe it.  There's a reason why people end relationships.  It's not so that they can go on as if nothing ever happened a week later.  At least give it more time. 

But there I go being ridiculous.  Why not let them be friends?  I should believe Aya when she says she doesn't want that idiot as her boyfriend.  She's strong-willed and won't let herself be fooled into reigniting old flames.

"Well, no.  I mean, it's just practical thinking.  But, um, we can still mail each other and, um..."

No.  Don't mail him.  You can mail anyone in the world, but not him, I think angrily.

"And if it's not just the two of us, then it's okay to go out."

I resist snorting.  She's better not ask me to come along.  No freaking way.  I'd kill him.

I feel too antsy, so I get up to pour myself some more tea even though I don't want any.  I can sense Aya's eyes on me for a moment.  She must be wondering if I'm listening to her conversation.  I wonder if she feels guilty.  I hope she does...

I go back to the table with my tea and I open up another magazine, flipping to an Adidas shoe advertisement and staring at it intently.

"Bye bye," Aya said quietly, and she cuts the line.

That's an abrupt ending.

I watch out of the corner of my eye as she puts her phone away and picks up her magazine again.  I notice her look up at me and then look back down.

If I ever want to find out what that conversation was just about, I have to ask.  It's now or never.

"So, who was that?" I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.  "It sounded classified."

I start to laugh at my own joke.  I'm not at all amused.  I'm nervous and upset.

"Nobody important," Aya says, getting annoyed at me.

I think she hates it when I laugh at my own jokes.

"Oh, you mean Tachibana?" I ask, giving her my special smirk.

I get my kicks in where I can.  She set that one up perfectly.

She doesn't reply, so I know I'm right.  It's so obvious anyway.

"Was he calling to get his things back?" I ask.

I know that there's only one way for her to respond.  I know that they were never at the point where they kept things at each other's apartments, so she has to tell me I'm wrong.

"No!" she exclaims, sounding a lot more irritated than I thought she would.  "He just wanted to know if we could still be friends."

I wasn't expecting to get as thorough an answer as she's provided.  And such a passionate one.  She definitely wants to drive home the point that she and Tachibana weren't that close.  I can interpret this as something hopeful for me...

All I do is nod.  I can't show what I'm thinking.

"I see.  And?" I press on.

I want to know why my name was mentioned.  Or at least I think it was.

"Well, I told him yeah, but we can't hang out together.  Not just the two of us, at least," she mumbles.

I figured as much already.  But what does she think about it?  Does she really want to hang out with him?  And does she expect me to be nice to him?  Because I won't be.  She could beg me to, she could give me everything in the world, but I would never be nice to Tachibana.

Well, okay, if she really begged me, then I'd be civil to him.  But she'd really have to turn on her charm.  As much as I love the girl, "be nice to Tachibana" is simply not in my vocabulary.

"Oh, okay," I say, taking the edge off my voice a bit as I think about how nice it would be if she really did get down on her knees and beg me to be nice to that guy.  That way I would know I was important enough that she'd do something like that. "Anything else?"

My name.  My name.  My name...

But she shakes her head.

"No.  That was it."

I nod a few times, but I feel a little blank.  I guess I'm not allowed to hear what else they talked about.  I'm not important enough.  What a slap to the face.

I swallow and look back down at the magazine.  I'm not going to cry.  I'm feeling too annoyed to cry.  I'm not even that annoyed at Aya.  A little, yeah, but not as annoyed as I am at that moron.  If he hadn't called, I'm sure Aya's memory of him would fade into oblivion.

Maybe I have to do something to make her forget him.

I look at the article beside the Adidas ad.  It's an advice column.  An anonymous person has written in complaining about constantly smelly feet, and my eyes flick to the advice that's written.  Vinegar and water, huh?  Maybe I should force feed that to Tachibana.  I'd love to see his grimace of disgust.

"Says here that soaking stinky feet in a solution of vinegar and water will help get rid of the smell," I say, signalling that I want to stop talking about this and move on.

Aya looks surprised.  I'm sure she can't figure me out at that moment, but I don't particularly care.

"Ew, Miki-chan, that's gross.  I don't have smelly feet, and neither do you," she insists.

Of course our feet don't smell bad.  Silly Aya.  She must know I don't think that.  It cheers me up, and we continue to read for half an hour until I suggest dinner.

Just before opening my mouth, however, I recall something.

Maybe I have to do something to make her forget him, I repeat my earlier thoughts in my head.

Perhaps it's time I stop being so stubborn about being a wimp and start doing something about what I feel.  Seize the moment.  Grab at whatever opportunity I can.  Take advantage of what I've got.  We're not going to live forever, and I obviously want this badly enough.

I need to do something drastic.  Something daring.  Maybe not quite a "let's get drunk and..." type of scenario, but who knows.  Maybe that would work, too.  I'll have to start thinking about it, and quickly, too.  Aya's next suitor isn't going to wait for me to have my shot.

Ug.  My life is so difficult.

[Mikan]

AhHA! Miki is awesome. I think I love her POV most of all. Its just...blunt I suppose in a way.

So, uh...is this it? Is there more? (God, why do I feel so panicked at the thought of not reading your work?!)

Vinegar and water eh....

[JFC]

"Nobody important," she said.

"Oh, you mean Tachibana?" Miki asked with a raised eyebrow and a devilish smirk.

Awesome-est comment EVAH!!!

I look at Miki out of the corner of my eye.  She's found another magazine and seems to be absorbed in it.

But why am I looking at her? I ask myself.

Ain't it obvious?

It suddenly hits me.  Will there ever be anything more important to me than my career?  Will I ever be so hopelessly in love with something or someone that I would quit my job without any second thoughts or regrets?  Sometimes it feels like there is something in my life that I'd do that for, but I don't know what it would be. 

Love the foreshadowing (even though we already know what happens).

Surely I can't ask her to chaperone us if we ever decided to meet and chat over coffee.  Someone would end up dead.  I find myself hoping it would be Keita and not Miki. 

...

In the grand scheme of things, she's way more important than him.

No, that sounds weird.  I don't mean like that.

IT'S A SIGN DAMMIT!!!

I purposely leave out the fact that her name was mentioned.  I instinctively know that it's not a good topic to bring up.

Smart move.

"Are we still friends?" she asks in surprise.

My heart drops.  It sounds like she's repeating a question, and the only person I can think of that would ask her something like that is the number one person on my hate list.

Tachibana.

...

Did I just distract her?  Did I make her remember that I'm in here, too?

...

"As long as... Mi- uh, huh?" Aya sputters in surprise.

I almost jerk my head up when I hear the first syllable of my name.  Was that was she was about to say?  My name?  Why are they talking about me?

Miki is surprisingly observational, especially with the little details like that that most people may not have noticed.

"And if it's not just the two of us, then it's okay to go out."

I resist snorting.  She's better not ask me to come along.  No freaking way.  I'd kill him.

Damn right she would, probably wouldn't even break a sweat doing it.

"Nobody important," Aya says, getting annoyed at me.

I think she hates it when I laugh at my own jokes.

"Oh, you mean Tachibana?" I ask, giving her my special smirk.

I get my kicks in where I can.  She set that one up perfectly.

That she did, that she did. Miki's the tsukkomi queen of H!P, after all.

"No!" she exclaims, sounding a lot more irritated than I thought she would.  "He just wanted to know if we could still be friends."

...

All I do is nod.  I can't show what I'm thinking.

Which, at this moment in particular, is probably something like THIS:

"Anything else?"

My name.  My name.  My name...

But she shakes her head.

"No.  That was it."

I nod a few times, but I feel a little blank.  I guess I'm not allowed to hear what else they talked about.  I'm not important enough.  What a slap to the face.

NOOOOOOOO!!! That's not true! You are!!! Aya just hasn't realized it yet!!!
 

I need to do something drastic.  Something daring.  Maybe not quite a "let's get drunk and..." type of scenario, but who knows. 

Hey, if it finally knocks some sense into her, why not?

[OTN1]

There's more, Mikan!

Love the foreshadowing (even though we already know what happens).

Hahaha, it's fun to do that.

So Right

8.1

As Aya was about to knock at Miki's dressing room at half past twelve on a late May day, she heard the girl's muffled talking.  She couldn't hear what was being said, but she considered not going in.  If Miki had someone over, she didn't want to interrupt.  However, curiosity got the better of her, so she knocked three times and waited.

The door swung open seconds later to reveal Miki still dressed in her dance practice clothes and holding a folder in one hand, her phone in the other.

Aya looked behind Miki and saw nobody.  She looked at the phone and then figured she must have been talking to someone on it.  She looked a little on edge.  Perhaps it was because of the suddenness with which she seemed to have ended her phone call.

"Hi.  Are you busy?" Aya asked, wondering if Miki had to call the person back right away.

"Uh, no.  I'm not.  Come in," Miki said, backing up, tossing the folder on a chair, and putting her phone down on the table in an effort to not look busy.

Aya walked in slowly and looked around just in case there really was someone else in there.  There was nobody.

"What's up?" Miki asked in a somewhat unnaturally loud voice.

"Nothing.  I just thought you might want to grab lunch at the convenience store with me," Aya offered tranquilly.

Miki's eyes wandered over to her folder, an action that Aya caught clearly.

"But if you're busy, don't worry.  I'll see you later," she added quickly with a smile.

"No, I'm not busy!" Miki exclaimed, waving her hands ridiculously and then grabbing Aya's sleeve to make sure she didn't leave.  She let go hastily when she realised she was acting strangely.  "Just sit and give me a minute to change."

Aya sat down in the chair and studied a take out menu for pizza that was on the table as Miki changed into her street clothes and touched up her eyeliner.

"Ready!" the freshly changed girl cried out, all signs of nervousness having left her voice, replaced by excitement.

Aya looked at her amusedly.

"I was thinking we could eat up on the eighth floor.  It's a clear day."

The eighth floor was often deserted at lunch time, and so it was one of their favourite retreats.  It offered a spacious lobby full of high quality couches and an incredible view of the skyline, all tucked away behind a series of hallways that few people bothered to go down.  On fine days, one could see far into the distance.

"Sounds good," Miki said, linking her arm around Aya's and pushing her out the door swiftly.

Aya laughed, and for their walk to the store, they goofed around like childhood friends that had known each other for twenty years.

[OTN1]

8.2

I get out of dance rehearsal at a quarter past twelve, and I rush to my dressing room to change.  I'm hungry enough to eat three cows, and I'm worked up from the amount of brain power I've had to use this morning.  Dancing while keeping spatial orientation in mind is tough!  I need to eat lunch and unwind.  There's nobody I like to unwind with more than Miki.  If she's free, we can go stock up on food at the convenience store and spend our break on the eighth floor, our favourite place to hang out.

Once I'm done getting ready (even for a quick run to the convenience store, an idol has to look her best), I hurry down a floor to her dressing room.  I pass by Ogawa and Niigaki, and we wave hello to each other.

As I approach the door, I hear talking.  I can't hear what's being said, but it sounds rather important.  I slow down a bit and consider leaving and coming back later, or maybe just going to the store alone.  I don't want to disturb Miki if she's busy.  I understand that the kind of work we do doesn't leave us with much time to spend freely.

But I really want us to eat lunch together.  We've been so busy that we haven't been able to hang out much.  I can try knocking at the door, and if she's really busy, I'll at least get to see her for thirty seconds.

With a little reluctance, I knock three times on the door.  The talking stops and footsteps come my way.  Miki swings the door open.  She's holding a folder full of papers in one hand and her cell phone in the other.  She must have been talking about work to someone on the phone.  She ended the conversation pretty quickly, though, which makes me think she needs to call him or her back.  Either that, or somebody's in her room with her.

"Hi.  Are you busy?" I ask, although it's pretty obvious she is.  I feel bad for having interrupted.

"Uh, no.  I'm not.  Come in," Miki says nervously.

She backs up to give me room to walk in, and she tosses her things aside as if they're not the least bit important.  It looks like she's actively trying to look free when she's truly not.  She could be being polite, not wanting to send me off after I've made an effort to come and see her.  I question whether or not to enter, but of course my own selfish desires mute any other reasonable thinking, and I enter her dressing room.

I look around briefly to confirm that there's nobody in there.  Not a soul is in sight.

"What's up?" Miki asks loudly, as if she wants the people next door to hear her.

She's acting awfully suspiciously.  Maybe she was doing something questionable, although I can't imagine what.  Drug dealing and prostitution are out of the question.  I laugh at the thought of Miki snorting coke or trying to collect a fee for sleeping with someone.  Those things are so not her.  Maybe she was scheming with a friend.  Maybe they're going to play a prank or throw a wild party.  Something not illegal, but perhaps disagreeable to the authorities that govern us in this business.

But I have to stop thinking about that and answer the question she's asked.

"Nothing," I say in a peaceful way, perhaps to help her calm down.  "I just thought you might want to grab lunch at the convenience store with me."

She looks surreptitiously at her folder, but I notice it, and I know that I shouldn't be here bothering her.

"But if you're busy, don't worry," I say quickly.  "I'll see you later."

I add a smile to my words.  I don't want her to think I'm angry.  I really do want her to get her work done properly.

"No, I'm not busy!" she exclaims.

She waves her hands in a silly way and then grabs my shirt sleeve in order to keep me from leaving.  I've come to expect odd behaviour from Miki when she's around me.  I'm used to it, but still, she's such a strange one that I must give her some kind of amused look.  She lets go and looks embarrassed.

"Just sit and give me a minute to change," she says as she moves off to find her street clothes.

I stifle a laugh and I sit down in a chair.  There's a take out pizza menu on the table, so I pick it up and read it.  I can hear Miki flinging clothes around wildly as she gets ready in her speedy way, but I don't look up.  I tell myself it's because I'd probably burst out laughing at the rushed look on her face.  But maybe that isn't the whole truth.

Oh look! I think, latching my eyes onto a picture on the menu.  Shrimp pizza.  Looks good.  Please, shrimp pizza.  Distract me for a few more seconds.  Distract me with your yummy shrimpy cheesiness until Miki is-

"Ready!" she cries out.

All signs of nervousness have left her voice and have been replaced by excitement.

I chuckle as I put the menu back down on the table and finally look up.  Only food can get Miki this happy and enthusiastic.

This girl is destined to marry a chef or the owner of a restaurant, I think to myself.

I can just imagine the wedding.  The banquet afterwards would probably be the most scrumptious meal I ever ate in my life.  There Miki would be with her new husband, who would keep her well-fed for life.  There her parents would be.  Her father would be glaring at the man, watching his every move and waiting for an excuse to come down hard on him.  Her mother would be swooning, all excited about her daughter's happiness. 

I'd be right beside Mr. Fujimoto, glaring at the new addition to the family.  Tempt my Miki away with food?  I don't think so.  When they coined the saying "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach," they left out one important thing, and that's all mention of Miki.  "A man's heart and Miki's heart," it should be.

I've always found that saying to be treacherous.  As if you need to trick someone into loving you by feeding him.  Well, if some chef tricked Miki into loving him because he could cook well, I'd certainly have something to say about it.  If they had a Western-style wedding, right at the "is there anyone who opposes this marriage?" part, I'd jump up and declare war on the groom, claiming he didn't really love her, pulling Miki aside and imploring her to stop the silly shenanigan that was just a marriage of convenience and not love.

Sheesh, I'm starting to sound like Miki when she gets all protective and jealous of me.  Her ways are rubbing off on me far too much.

"I was thinking we could eat up on the eighth floor.  It's a clear day," I suggest.

We've got such a nice view from there.  I love it when we're all alone and just hanging out there.  Maybe eating lunch or even just sitting on the comfortable couches and chairs that are set up near the window.  I love the silences that settle over us like warm blankets.  It seems even cosier when there's a storm outside.  We can sit and watch the lightening and the rain, listen to the thunder, and be dry and at peace together.

Am I cheesy?  Am I as cheesy as that pizza I was just reading about?  Maybe I'm even worse.  But why can't I enjoy those moments?  They make me feel crazily good.

"Sounds good," Miki says in reply to my question.

She links her arm around mine unexpectedly and pushes me out the door.  I feel her elbow poke into my ribs, and I wonder what this feeling inside me that wells up is.

Probably just hunger, right?

I laugh it off and we skip down to the street level to go and find some food to bring up to our secret, eighth floor refuge.

[OTN1]

8.3

It's been eight days since I decided to do something about Aya.  I've tried to think of all sorts of ways to confess my feelings, but none of them are good.  All my scenarios end in disasters, and all my speeches sound so stupid that I'd rather share a broccoli milkshake with Tachibana the Terrible.

Every minute of every day is devoted to figuring out my situation and formulating a plan.  I'm all right at multitasking, so the girls don't notice me not truly paying attention to them when we're around each other at the studio or at performance venues, but it doesn't mean I'm at peace.  My mind doesn't stop.  Only for about six or seven hours each night does it stop thinking about Aya, and that's because I'm asleep.  Even then, however, I have dreams, many of them based on the things I think about during the day, the main thing being Aya.  It's terrible and yet nice at the same time.

It's late May, and I'm sitting in my dressing room after a strenuous dance rehearsal.  I've declined offers from Yossi and Takahashi to go and get lunch together because I need to sit and think.  I've been doing this every break I have had.  Sitting and thinking and plotting.

I have a folder full of magazine cut-outs.  I can't believe I've stooped so low, but the sad reality of it lies between those two blue pieces of bound plastic.  The magazine cut-outs are from advice columns and articles about love and relationships.  Readers writing in and asking for advice on how to confess their love to the people they want.  I've been reading them to get ideas, but none of the advice given is any good.  None of it is my style. 

"Write a letter to him and share with him honestly how you feel," writes one advisor.

"Seduce him with sexy lingerie and wine" writes another advisor from a more risky magazine.

I'm into honesty and wine, but the first one is too Care Bear, and the second one is too ridiculously unbelievable.  Nobody really falls for that.  Not in a long-term way.  It's too superficial for what I feel.  Moreover, Aya's certainly not going to fall for it.  She's not even into me.

So why am I sitting here thinking about what to do when I know it's a lost cause?

Simple.  Because I'm pathetic.

I laugh out loud.  I'm so silly.  Here I am feeling this incredible angst over my situation that nobody else has a clue about.  It's funny because nobody would suspect me of thinking about these things.  Maybe they don't even think I'm capable of thoughts like these.  Little Kamei and Shige and Niigaki all think I'm so cool.  So tough and balanced, not a care in the world.  Nothing can take me down.  I'm invincible.  They bow down in fearful awe of me.

What would they think if they could see me now with a pathetic pile of magazine cut-outs from even more pathetic readers who can't think for themselves, looking for an answer that I know I'm not going to find yet keep searching for anyway?

They'd laugh, think I was someone impersonating the Fujimoto they know, and walk off quickly before the real me got back and went all violent on the impostor.

"Dear Aya," I say aloud to nobody.  "This is a letter for you.  Please listen to my thoughts.  I like you a lot!!  Have a nice day!"

I smash my face into my hands.

"Nooo," I groan.

That would be the worst letter ever written.  A first year elementary school student could do better than that.

I take out my phone and find a picture of the two of us.  We're making silly faces at the camera, our cheeks mashed together in an endearing way.  You can see my arm stretched in front of me and going out of the shot, signalling that I'm the one holding the phone.

We look happy.  We look like we fit together.  Why can't she just see that and come to me?  She's got magnificent ways of saying things.  So eloquent.  So right.  If I heard her say to me first that I was the most important person to her, I'd rest assured that she was being honest and not speaking under duress or out of an awkward sense of obligation.  That would give me the confidence to say, "I feel that, too, about you."

"Listen.  I really like you a lot.  Sometimes I wonder if you feel the same way," I say, improvising my speech as I address the picture of us.  "Do you like me?  You do things that make me think you might.  I-"

Three knocks at my door interrupt my monologue.  I flush red with embarrassment and pray that I haven't been heard speaking out loud to myself.  Still holding the folder and phone, I go and open my door, ready to go back into my cool and collected mode.  I feel a wave of terror pass through me when I see Aya on the other side of the door.  That's not how I usually feel when I see her, but the fact that I've been speaking my confession out loud to a photo just might have something to do with it.  Just might.

She looks at my folder and my phone, and my guard snaps up.  I don't want her asking about what's in the folder.  It's far too embarrassing.  My phone.  My saviour!  Maybe she'll think I was talking on my phone.  I clutch it a little more tightly and hope that she comes to that conclusion.

"Hi.  Are you busy?" she asks.

She sounds a bit eager.  I know she wants me to say "no."  I've learned how to decipher her way of emoting.  It's like a code.  A special Aya code that I've cracked.  Some things, however, still remain a mystery.  I don't know how to measure the intensity of her eagerness, or what kind of eagerness it is.  Eagerness to bother me?  Eagerness to get an opinion from me?  Eagerness to just see me?

"Uh, no.  I'm not.  Come in," I say.

I want to look convincing, so I throw the folder and phone off to the side, backing up to give her room to walk in.  I want to appear completely free and available, because that's what I am.  I'm desperate to do something other than sit around talking to myself (or pictures).

Aya walks in slowly and looks around.  Maybe she thinks somebody's in here, but when she sees nobody, I hope she assumes I was on the phone.

"What's up?" I ask loudly, trying to distract her from any suspicious thoughts she might be having.  I don't want her thinking I'm crazier than she already thinks I am.

"Nothing.  I just thought you might want to grab lunch at the convenience store with me."

She speaks in a calm manner.  She can probably tell I'm a bit nervous and she's doing her best to calm me down without even knowing the circumstances.  That's the sign of a true friend.

I can't help myself, and I look over at my folder.  I hope she doesn't ask what's in it.  That would mean the end of the world.  I'd have to move, change my name, and cut off all ties with my family if that folder were to ever be discovered in my possession.

Or maybe that's an exaggeration.  Needless to say, I'd be highly humiliated.

I'm yanked out of my fantasies about entering a witness protection program by Aya saying, "But if you're busy, don't worry.  I'll see you later."

Oh my god, she's probably noticed I'm looking at the folder.  I don't want her to leave.  I just don't want her to see my magazine articles.  I swear right then and there to throw them all out once lunch is over.

"No, I'm not busy!" I exclaim.

I advance forward and grab Aya's sleeve without thinking.  Her smile increases in amusement factor, and I realise I'm being bizarre.  I let go of her clothing and back up a bit.

"Just sit and give me a minute to change."

She follows my instructions and sits down.  Now I just have to change my clothes and we can get out of there.

"Seduce him with sexy lingerie and wine"

The written words of the advice columnist run through my head.

I'm not wearing sexy lingerie right now, but if she waits for a minute, I can go and grab a bottle of wine...

I look over at her, but she's reading a flyer that I accidentally brought over with me this morning.  It slipped into my bag along with some important papers I had to bring.

Great.  Pizza is more interesting than me.  I don't know what I was expecting, though.  Why would she want to look at me anyway?  So much for that stupid columnist's advice.  Even if I was wearing the nicest clothing I owned, she wouldn't be paying attention to me.  See?  Trash.  All of those magazine articles.  Pure trash.

I rush to get ready, all shyness gone and replaced by a general feeling of "ug."  I could start line dancing in my spot and she wouldn't notice because she's so absorbed in - I squint to see what picture she's looking at - shrimp pizza.

Shrimp: 1.
Miki: 0.

But maybe she's keeping her eyes averted because she somehow feels embarrassed.  Maybe she's actively trying not to look at me.  That would be nice.  My little Aya trying not to be creepy.  I like that.  I prefer this way of thinking over any other.

My confidence shoots up a bit as I fool myself into believing this, and I become excited.  We're going to eat lunch.  Food is fun.  Food is half of my life.  Food with Aya is even better because she's the other half of my life.  She just doesn't know that.

Yet.

"Ready!" I cheer.

Aya looks up at me from the picture of Pizza-La's shrimp special and she looks entertained by the sight of me.

"I was thinking we could eat up on the eighth floor.  It's a clear day," she suggests.

I love you! I think dorkily.

That's our special hangout place where nobody else goes.  It's quiet up there and it's often just the two of us lounging around, talking, reading, or just staring at the scenery of the capital.  When we go there, I feel like the rest of the world ceases to exist.  All the encumbrances of daily life are forgotten, and we are in our own little world.  It's one of my favourite things to do with Aya.

"Sounds good," I say happily.

I link my arm around hers without a single hesitation, and as she laughs, I cheerfully lead us to the elevator so that we can go down to the ground floor to buy lunch.  Days like this are the kind that remind me the world is perfect and that me and Aya... we're so right for each other.

[OTN1]

I've been on a bit of a writing spree/roll the past 2 days.  I wrote another alternate alternate version for the chapters I just posted.

Please remember: the following 2 chapters have nothing to do with the storyline.  They are digressions from the main path. 

I promised lots of fluff, right?  Well, here's some.  Horrible, terrible fluff.  I think I just got a cavity.

8.2 + ½:  The Alternate Alternate Version

Once I'm done getting ready (even for a quick run to the convenience store, an idol has to look her best), I hurry down a floor to her dressing room.  I pass by Ogawa and Niigaki, and we wave hello to each other.

As I approach the door, I hear talking.  I can't hear what's being said, but it sounds rather important.  I slow down a bit and consider leaving and coming back later, or maybe just going to the store alone.  I don't want to disturb Miki if she's busy.  I understand that the kind of work we do doesn't leave us with much time to spend freely.

But I really want us to eat lunch together.  We've been so busy that we haven't been able to hang out much.  I can try knocking at the door, and if she's really busy, I'll at least get to see her for thirty seconds.

I get closer to the door, and a naughty thought strikes me.  I edge towards the door quietly, ready to put my ear against it to listen in on Miki's conversation.

"No!" cries the little angel on my right shoulder.  She's the spitting image of me, but pure goodness incarnate.  "Don't do it.  You'll feel bad, and it's not right.  It's impolite."

"Do it!" sneers the little devil on my left shoulder.  She's the spitting image of me, but pure evil incarnate.  "She'll never find out, and it's not like you've never eavesdropped on people before.  Everyone does it."

The two figures do battle, and I shove them both aside.  Screw goodness.  This is Miki.  As if she'd feel any remorse doing what I'm about to do.

I put my ear to the door and listen.

"Dear Aya," says Miki.

For a second I panic and think that she's discovered me.  My racing heart slows down, though, because there's no way she could know I'm here. 

"This is a letter for you," she continues.  "Please listen to my thoughts."

She's written a letter for me?  And she's reading it out loud in a silly voice?  Miki's so strange!

"I like you a lot!!  Have a nice day!"

I stand there a little befuddled.  She likes me a lot?  What kind of letter is that?  She can just tell me that in person.  It's not like she hasn't before.

"Nooo," I hear her groan, and I frown.

What is she doing?  Is she drunk?  It's not even one in the afternoon yet.

"Listen," she starts up again.

Maybe the letter isn't finished.  I listen.

"I really like you a lot.  Sometimes I wonder if you feel the same way."

That's when my heart starts to race and a thousand words and questions go through my head.

Is she saying what I think she's saying?  Is she confessing some sort of strange love for me?  Out loud to herself?  Is she practicing?  Or is it just a joke?  And would she freak out if I said "yes," or would she actually be happy?

"Do you like me?" she continues, unaware of my presence.  "You do things that make me think you might.  I want to hear it from you.  When you touch my hand, what do you feel?  Do you feel excited like I do?  Do you have daydreams about me like I do about you?  Am I on your mind all the time like you're on mine?"

I've never heard Miki speak in such an embarrassingly mushy way before.  She's never expressed these things about anyone, not even guys she's dated while I've known her.  I've always been under the impression that Miki shares everything with me, but she's never shared these feelings with me.  Of course, I understand she wouldn't want to say anything to me because these thoughts are about me, but still.  It's a big surprise.  It's almost as if I had thought all along that she wasn't capable of being so gushy about love.  I know she's capable of love, and I've always known that she's a sentimental, soft person, but not to this extent.  Especially not about me.  It's no secret that she loves me.  I love my friends, too.  But like this?  This is more like being in love someone, which is a whole separate category from just loving someone.  Definitely not a friendly love.

That's not the only surprise that I face.  Some sort of massive wall of ice that has been surrounding my heart for the past while begins to melt.  I didn't even know it was there until now.  It quickly vanishes, and warmth floods my entire body as I realise what I've been missing all along.  It has taken an immoral act to make me see that the reason I've been so riled up, nervous, and distracted is because of the girl inside this room.  Somehow, somewhere along the path of life, my best friend has become more than a best friend, and I haven't even noticed it. 

No, that's a lie.  A damned lie.  And I know it because I've been repeating it to myself for months even though I've known deep down inside that it's a lie.  I did notice long ago.  I was just terrified.

Well, not anymore.  If Miki has the courage to admit those things to herself, and I have the courage to finally start breaking down the barrier of lies that I've created to block her from getting closer to me, then I think I can stop being afraid, walk in there, and let her know what's on my mind.

I do feel a bit guilty because I'm standing here with my ear pressed up to the door, hearing Miki's intimate thoughts when I don't have permission.  I figure, though, if I say things that I know will make her happy, she'll forget about my little indiscretion.

There's only one way to do this.

I put my hand on the doorknob and gently twist it, opening the door silently.  I poke my head in and see Miki holding her cell phone high up in front of her face, staring at it while continuing to mumble her words.  Her back is turned to me, so she hasn't noticed the door open.  I walk in, shutting the door just as silently as I opened it, and I approach her.

Her sixth sense flares up, and she must sense a change in the atmosphere because she stops talking and starts to turn around.  She catches sight of me just as I'm at an arm's length away, and for a second, I can read her expression perfectly.  She's too shocked to say anything, dismayed that I've heard everything.  Her face changes, and she looks like she's about to cry, which catches me off guard.  I suppress my surprise, though, and I reach out my hands and put them on her shoulders, drawing her into a wordless hug.

She doesn't return my hug in any way.  She must be wondering what I'm doing.  Or maybe she's wondering how many seconds it's going to take for me to start badmouthing her and telling her to forget it, there's no chance, and so on.

I have no intention of doing what she's thinking.  Instead, I raise my head a bit to her ear and say quietly,

"Yeah.  Me too."

When I feel her hands on my back returning my hug, I know that everything has changed from this moment on.

[OTN1]

8.3 + ½:  The Alternate Alternate Version

"Dear Aya," I say aloud to nobody.  "This is a letter for you.  Please listen to my thoughts.  I like you a lot!!  Have a nice day!"

I smash my face into my hands.

"Nooo," I groan.

That would be the worst letter ever written.  A first year elementary school student could do better than that.

I take out my phone and find a picture of the two of us.  We're making silly faces at the camera, our cheeks mashed together in an endearing way.  You can see my arm stretched in front of me and going out of the shot, signalling that I'm the one holding the phone.

We look happy.  We look like we fit together.  Why can't she just see that and come to me?  She's got magnificent ways of saying things.  So eloquent.  So right.  If I heard her say to me first that I was the most important person to her, I'd rest assured that she was being honest and not speaking under duress or out of an awkward sense of obligation.  That would give me the confidence to say, "I feel that, too, about you."

"Listen.  I really like you a lot.  Sometimes I wonder if you feel the same way," I say, improvising my speech as I address the picture of us.  "Do you like me?  You do things that make me think you might.  I want to hear it from you.  When you touch my hand, what do you feel?  Do you feel excited like I do?  Do you have daydreams about me like I do about you?  Am I on your mind all the time like you're on mine?"

I pause and turn to face the window.  The blinds are shut, but I can still tell it's a sunny day outside.

"I don't know how long I've felt like this.  It seems like forever.  I know it hasn't been that long.  I mean, it's not like the second I met you, I felt these things.  But I think I always knew that you had the potential to become the most important thing to me.  I really, really hope I'm that important to you.  If not, then I guess you can say goodbye to me and never talk to me again.  It'll probably creep you out to hang around me after hearing something like this from me.  I think-"

I suddenly stop because I feel like something has changed in the room.  The air feels different.  I turn around slowly, afraid of what I might see.  A monster?  A ghost?

What I see is more terrifying than any ghoul a horror film can offer.

It's Aya.  She's about an arm's length away from me, and she's looking at me with this intense gaze.  I think she's heard everything I've just said.

I want to die, and this time I'm not exaggerating.  I really don't want to go on living like this, facing embarrassment every time I see her from now on.  Remembering how I stupidly believed I could get a bit of privacy in my own dressing room.  Repeating the words of rejection that she's going to sing to me any minute now.

She reaches out and puts her hands on my shoulders, and I know that the end is coming.  She's going to let me down gently, but firmly.  She's going to make it clear that she harbours no such feelings towards me and that I should forget about anything between us ever happening.  It's just a joke when we say it on television.  It's just something to shock the fans and make them watch our shows.

Then she hugs me.  She actually hugs me.  It's not exactly what I imagine a speech of absolute rejection to start out with, but she has her own ways.

I don't bother to hug back.  How can I?  I just want to cry.

She doesn't say anything for some time.  She just hugs me lightly.  Why does she have to drag this out longer than it has to be?  Just say it.  Something akin to "in your dreams, Fujimoto," and I'll get the picture.

Instead, she lifts her head slowly to my ear.

She says very quietly, "Yeah.  Me too."

It sinks in slowly.  The words permeate every layer of my mind.

And for once, I don't analyse.  I just accept.  I haven't coerced her into anything.  She's heard my thoughts on her own and now she's making hers clear.

I reach up carefully and put my hands on her back, hugging her.

From this moment on, everything's going to be very different.

[Kei-Br]

ALTERNATE VERSIONS FTW!!!!!

Miki's POV are the best!

ur fics are just amazing!

[rndmnwierd]

I squealed. I squealed! You are the most awesome person in the world for this amazing piece of fluff and I squeal in reverence.

[Amarghetta]

I liked the original version more... Complication provides me lots of fun.

[Ren]

There her parents would be.  Her father would be glaring at the man, watching his every move and waiting for an excuse to come down hard on him.  Her mother would be swooning, all excited about her daughter's happiness.

That 'man' will be Aya . If only she knew...

Ayaya is in too much denial. I feel more and more bad for Miki :|. But the alternate alternate chapter brought me a big smile .

I love how you repeatedly bring some references to the "Let's get drunk and have sex" . And also, Miki seducing Aya in sexy lingerie and wine? That's gotta be the coolest mental image ever.

I wonder how long will it took for Aya to stop being in denial, realize Miki's and her own feelings..

[JFC]

8.1

As Aya was about to knock at Miki's dressing room at half past twelve on a late May day, she heard the girl's muffled talking.  She couldn't hear what was being said, but she considered not going in.  If Miki had someone over, she didn't want to interrupt.  However, curiosity got the better of her, so she knocked three times and waited.

The door swung open seconds later to reveal Miki still dressed in her dance practice clothes and holding a folder in one hand, her phone in the other.

Aya looked behind Miki and saw nobody.  She looked at the phone and then figured she must have been talking to someone on it.  She looked a little on edge.  Perhaps it was because of the suddenness with which she seemed to have ended her phone call.

Oh jeez did Aya almost walk in on Miki planning the secret-surprise vacation to Hakone?!?!?! (yep, I've got events somewhat memorized now). 


8.2

I need to eat lunch and unwind.  There's nobody I like to unwind with more than Miki.

Heh, yeah, Miki wants to "unwind" with Aya too.  Than again, wouldn't we all? 

She waves her hands in a silly way and then grabs my shirt sleeve in order to keep me from leaving.  I've come to expect odd behaviour from Miki when she's around me.

Oh, if only she knew why...

I can just imagine the wedding. 

...

Her father would be glaring at the man, watching his every move and waiting for an excuse to come down hard on him. 

...

I'd be right beside Mr. Fujimoto, glaring at the new addition to the family.  Tempt my Miki away with food?  I don't think so. 

The seeds of rabu-rabu have already been planted! All they need are the right conditions to grow!!! 

She links her arm around mine unexpectedly and pushes me out the door.  I feel her elbow poke into my ribs, and I wonder what this feeling inside me that wells up is.

Probably just hunger, right?

Wrong...it's


8.3

It's been eight days since I decided to do something about Aya.  I've tried to think of all sorts of ways to confess my feelings, but none of them are good.  All my scenarios end in disasters, and all my speeches sound so stupid that I'd rather share a broccoli milkshake with Tachibana the Terrible.

Ouch...and...eww. 

I have a folder full of magazine cut-outs.  I can't believe I've stooped so low, but the sad reality of it lies between those two blue pieces of bound plastic.  The magazine cut-outs are from advice columns and articles about love and relationships.  Readers writing in and asking for advice on how to confess their love to the people they want.

Awwwwwwwwww that's cute...in an embarassing sort of way. 

So why am I sitting here thinking about what to do when I know it's a lost cause?

Simple.  Because I'm pathetic.

Wrong again. It's because of

I want to look convincing, so I throw the folder and phone off to the side, backing up to give her room to walk in.

Miki's lucky the contents of the folder didn't spill out.

My confidence shoots up a bit as I fool myself into believing this, and I become excited.  We're going to eat lunch.  Food is fun.  Food is half of my life.  Food with Aya is even better because she's the other half of my life.  She just doesn't know that.

Yet.

For GAWD'S SAKE you have to tell her!!!   

I've been on a bit of a writing spree/roll the past 2 days.  I wrote another alternate alternate version for the chapters I just posted.

Please remember: the following 2 chapters have nothing to do with the storyline.  They are digressions from the main path.

I promised lots of fluff, right?  Well, here's some.  Horrible, terrible fluff.  I think I just got a cavity.

SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!!!


8.2 + ½:  The Alternate Alternate Version

I get closer to the door, and a naughty thought strikes me.  I edge towards the door quietly, ready to put my ear against it to listen in on Miki's conversation.

"No!" cries the little angel on my right shoulder.  She's the spitting image of me, but pure goodness incarnate.  "Don't do it.  You'll feel bad, and it's not right.  It's impolite."

"Do it!" sneers the little devil on my left shoulder.  She's the spitting image of me, but pure evil incarnate.  "She'll never find out, and it's not like you've never eavesdropped on people before.  Everyone does it."

OMGASS! Angel Aya VS Devil Aya!!! SO KAWAII~~~!!!

The two figures do battle, and I shove them both aside.  Screw goodness.  This is Miki.  As if she'd feel any remorse doing what I'm about to do.

Heh, she does have a point there.

I put my hand on the doorknob and gently twist it, opening the door silently.  I poke my head in and see Miki holding her cell phone high up in front of her face, staring at it while continuing to mumble her words.  Her back is turned to me, so she hasn't noticed the door open.  I walk in, shutting the door just as silently as I opened it, and I approach her.

Her sixth sense flares up, and she must sense a change in the atmosphere because she stops talking and starts to turn around.  She catches sight of me just as I'm at an arm's length away, and for a second, I can read her expression perfectly.  She's too shocked to say anything, dismayed that I've heard everything.  Her face changes, and she looks like she's about to cry, which catches me off guard.  I suppress my surprise, though, and I reach out my hands and put them on her shoulders, drawing her into a wordless hug.

eep.

I raise my head a bit to her ear and say quietly,

"Yeah.  Me too."

When I feel her hands on my back returning my hug, I know that everything has changed from this moment on.

8.3 + ½:  The Alternate Alternate Version

Instead, she lifts her head slowly to my ear.

She says very quietly, "Yeah.  Me too."

It sinks in slowly.  The words permeate every layer of my mind.

And for once, I don't analyse.  I just accept.  I haven't coerced her into anything.  She's heard my thoughts on her own and now she's making hers clear.

I reach up carefully and put my hands on her back, hugging her.

From this moment on, everything's going to be very different.

GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!! 

[nkca_]

omg in the alternate version even i felt kind of embarrased for miki...but it was really cute