I forgot to note in previous parts that this story is inspired by an episode of As Told By Ginger on Nick. (The only Nicktoon I watch, because that channel irritates me. All their shows could use a good dose of Ritalin.) If you've seen it, you'll know I mean the one where Ginger and Darren go to the movies, after Miranda convinces Ginger she's in love with with her best friend.

I should also say I’ve been reading L.J.Smith recently, so the Vampire Prince Damon part was inspired by her rather fun, teen horrors. And the insistence of Takeru’s eyes being so blue probably comes from Julian.

When they arrived at the cinema, Ken was already sitting on a bench outside and waiting for them. He was dressed simply in a charcoal polo-neck and black denims, but wore the clothes with such easy elegance that they seemed to have been tailored for him. His dark hair fell across his forehead, like a blackbird’s wing, and shadowed his violet eyes. He stood when he saw them, and nodded his head in greeting.

"Good evening, all of you," he said in his usual, quiet tones, "I’m glad you were able to join us, Takeru and Hikari. I took the liberty of buying the tickets while I was waiting for you. Miyako recommended Vampire Prince Damon."

"Sounds great," Takeru replied easily, "Yamato and Sora enjoyed it when they came to see it."

"Taichi also liked it," Hikari added with a mischievous smile, "And he actually saw the screen for more than three seconds in between making out with his new girlfriend."

Her best friend stuck out his tongue at her, and she playfully swatted him with her bag. After her initial awkwardness, it was so nice to feel that everything was normal and comfortable between them again. If nothing else, the walk had helped to clear her head. It had just been so ordinary. They had talked about the up-coming test they had to write. They had gossipped about Mimi and Jyou. They had argued over the merits of SMAP’s new release. They had even discussed Japan’s chances in the World Cup. So far, then, it had been a night like any other night. It went to show that Takeru wasn’t expecting this to be a real date any more than she was. I was silly to let Mimi get to me like that. (1)

Relief sweet within her, she turned her attention back to her companions.

"I d-didn’t think y-you would g-get tickets for that," Miyako was stammering. Hikari looked at her friend in surprise. She was crimson to the roots of her hair, and she was plucking at her long skirt in the way she always did when she was nervous. It was very strange. She isn’t scared of horror movies, is she?

"But you said you wanted to see the film," Ken said, looking as puzzled as Hikari felt, "I can try to change them, if you wish."

"It’s f-fine," Miyako waved away his offer with a slightly shaky hand, "W-we’ll see the movie. Hikari and Takeru want to see it, and it’s th-their first d-date as well."

"MIYAKO!" Hikari exclaimed, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. Her friend had the worst habit of saying whatever popped into her mind, never mind how humiliating or personal. She would chatter about her periods, her feelings for boys or her siblings’ relationships as easily as she would talk about the weather. It was like her brain was permanently wired to broadcast. And what if Takeru thinks I said it to her? What if he thinks . . . Her cheeks grew even warmer, and she stared at the movie posters on the walls in sudden interest.

Beside her, she heard Takeru begin to laugh.

"You thought . . . .You didn’t think . . . . Me and Hikari? Dating? Unless I’ve become Mikage Aki overnight, I don’t think so," he turned to her with a wicked grin on his face, and offered her his hand, "Well, should we go and buy refreshments, angel feathers?"

"‘Angel feathers’?" she repeated in amusement, grateful that he had smoothed over a difficult situation.

"It was that or ‘sweetness and light’," he shrugged, "‘Angel feathers’ seemed less of a cliche. Anyway, refreshments?"

"Y-you and K-ken get them, Takeru," Miyako replied, "I want t-to talk to Hikari."

The youngest boy nodded, and made his way towards the refreshment counter on the other side of the cinema. With a final, confused look for Miyako, Ken followed him. Hikari could see her friend visibly relax as he left.

"What’s up with you?" she asked, puzzled.

"We’re seeing a horror movie," Miyako hissed, "Do you have any idea what that means?"

"Lots of fake blood? Stupid girls in skimpy nightdresses? Killers in masks?" she suggested dryly, "I don’t know. Enlighten me."

"You’re such a child, Hikari," she shook her head in disbelief, "Horror movies are the most romantic movies there are. When you get scared, you’re supposed to cling onto your date. Or hold his hand at the very least."

"And don’t you want to hold Ken’s hand?"

"I do, but it’s a big step. When we’ve held hands, we’ll be an Official Couple," Hikari could almost hear the capitals in Miyako’s voice as she spoke. Still irritated from her friend’s earlier outburst, she was about to bite back that it wasn’t as big or obvious a step as coming as Mrs Ichijouji to their last fancy-dress party, but something in her friend’s expression stopped her. For the first time she could remember, Miyako looked scared.

Hikari could understand the emotion. It wasn’t that her friend was afraid of being rejected by Ken. In his own, quiet way, he had made it clear that he loved her. Hikari remembered the time when they had all gone to view the cherry-blossoms in the park. Or, in Taichi and Daisuke’s case, to stuff themselves with the delicacies that their parents only prepared for hanami. She was convinced her brother and friend were the inspiration behind the saying: hana yori dango. (2)

"I think sakura pink has to be the prettiest colour in the world," Mimi had sighed, as they had been resting beneath the trees after the picnic.

"momo no hana, nokoru yuki ya - haru no yume," Iori had countered in a dreamy voice, and everyone had groaned. The youngest of the Chosen Children had been unbearable since he had fallen in love with a girl by the name of Momoko. He spent all day walking around with his head in the clouds composing bad poetry about peaches and peach-blossoms. That would have been fine by itself, but he insisted on sharing it with all his friends. Hikari knew she would never be able to look at the fruit the same way.(3)

"I love lavender," Ken had said softly, "Of all the colours, it is my favourite."

As he had spoken, his eyes had slid sideways to where Miyako had been leaning against a tree and unwrapping a rice-ball with her teeth. When she had realised what he meant, however, she had lowered the food with a startled expression on her face, then had turned to him with a radiant smile, pink rising in her cheeks.

No, Hikari, thought, there’s no doubt that she knows he loves her and won’t reject her. What she’s scared of is what comes after that, what him not rejecting her means. A real relationship.

"It’ll be okay," she said gently, "You’ll do just fine."

Before Miyako could reply, however, Takeru squeezed himself out of the crowd of people around the refreshment stand and walked back towards them. He was holding a paper cup in each hand, and had a large box of popcorn balanced in the crook of his arm.

"One pink lemonade for my angel feathers," he said cheerfully, handing one of the cups to her, "And I hope you don’t mind us sharing a popcorn."

Hikari rolled her eyes at him as much for the pet-name as for the suggestion. Takeru and her shared a popcorn every time they went to the movies together. It was one of their best friend traditions. Of course, sharing was a euphemistic way of putting it. All-out warfare would have been closer to the truth, especially by the time they reached the last grains in the box.

"Let me get that for you, because you paid for our tickets," she said, slinging her bag off her shoulder and rifling through it for her purse.

He waved aside her offer of money. "Don’t worry. Yamato gave me enough to cover everything tonight. He said that Taichi would beat both of us up, if I made you pay for anything. Me, for not being a gentleman. Him, for not teaching me better."

"Still, I’m a modern woman," she argued, as she unzipped her purse and extracted enough money to cover the refreshments from it, "I insist, Takeru. And I promise I won’t tell my brother."

Smiling at him, she waved the notes in front of his face. He hesitated for a moment, but then shrugged and took them from her. As his fingertips brushed her hand, she felt a little shiver run up her arm. Static electricity? It can’t be. It was like she had been shocked, but the floor of the cinema was not carpeted and he was wearing rubber-soled shoes. She looked up at him, and had the same, strange sensation of not recognising him. She felt her heart thump in her chest. The boy standing in front of her was much older and much more handsome than she remembered her friend being. And Takeru’s eyes were never that blue, were they? Then he grinned at her, and everything returned to normal.

"Thanks," he slipped the money into his pocket, "I’ll put it towards my hospital bills when Taichi finds out somehow. Anyway, when Ken gets back with your drinks, we better go in. From what the man at the refreshment stand said, it’s about to start."

"It can’t be," the girl on the screen whispered as she frantically ripped the moss from the gravestone to reveal the inscription beneath it. A sudden flash of lightning lit up the large, black letters carved into it. DAMON BERGSTRAND. 1984-1999. All the blood drained from her face, leaving even her lips white, and she staggered backwards from the marker, "My boyfriend died three years ago!"

Unable to tear her eyes from the screen, Hikari’s hand automatically went for the popcorn box that was wedged between Takeru’s seat and her own. He had obviously had the same idea, because his hand brushed hers. It was warm and slightly rough from his years of playing basketball. She snatched her own away as if his touch had burnt her.

"Sorry," she felt compelled to say.

He shrugged, "No prob."

Feeling like an idiot, she settled back into her seat and returned her attention to the screen. The girl was running towards the graveyard’s entrance now, silhouetted against the wildly-flashing sky. She was screaming in terror, and tears poured down her face. Blinded by them, she did not see the tree-root that curled upwards in front of her. Her foot caught in it, sending her flying onto the floor. A dark figure rose behind her. It was Damon, but a very different Damon to the one seen in the past. His skin was as pale as marble, and his eyes flashed silver in his face. He wore shadow like a cloak. As he came to stand above the sobbing girl, he smiled at her, revealing wickedly pointed fangs.

"No! Don’t!" she gasped, grabbing onto Takeru’s hand and burying her head in his shoulder. On the screen, the girl screamed, but it seemed as distant as a nightmare. All that was real to her was his clean smell of soap, the slipperiness of skin-warmed silk against her cheek, the steady beat of his heart. It took a moment for the realisation of what she had done to hit her, and then the girl on the screen could not have been more horrified than she was. I didn’t . . . I didn’t mean . . . Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god . . . .

Tears of embarrassment pricking her eyes, she jumped to her feet and hurried towards the exit of the theatre.

Sitting on the steps that led down from the theatre, Hikari wondered when everything had become so confusing. Just that morning, the relationship between her and Takeru had been so easy. They were best friends. They had always been best friends. That was where their story had begun and ended. Now, she had the horrible feeling that she was falling in love with him, and that there were whole chapters to the book that she had never imagined let alone read.

She could still feel the warmth of his skin against her palm. If she turned over her hand, she wondered if she would see a mark on it, like a brand. It seemed impossible that this change could simply be inside herself. It was a tingle in her skin, a lightness in the turn of her heel, a new awareness about the curve of her lips. Surely anyone who looked at her could tell she had fallen in love for the first time in her life. Surely Takeru could . . .

Hikari’s stomach suddenly grew cold and heavy, as she saw Takeru walking around the corner. He had obviously come to see what was wrong with her. After how she had been acting all evening, she was surprised he still wanted to be friends with her. No-one wanted to hang out with a nutcase, after all.

"Hikari? Are you okay?" he had a concerned expression on his face, "You left so suddenly, and you’ve been acting strange all evening."

"I’m sorry," she sighed, scooting across to let him sit next to her on the steps, "We should talk before you think I’ve gone insane. It’s just . . . everyone’s been saying that we’d make this great couple. And . . . I don’t know what to think anymore. Maybe . . . maybe it’s not so crazy. Or maybe I’m just going crazy myself."

Beside her, Takeru remained silent. Hikari sneaked a sideways look at him from beneath the cover of her hair to gauge his reaction. He was fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt, undoing and redoing them, but his face was almost completely expressionless. She was struck again by how much like Yamato he could be at times. She wished he would say something, do something, react somehow. Even his laughter would be better than this. The silence between them seemed to stretch out into hours.

Eventually, however, he broke it: "As you probably mean Mimi when you say everybody, I wouldn’t worry about it. She’s been saying that since we were eight, and that’s just . . . well, weird," he shrugged, then grinned at her, "Besides, I think the world would stop spinning if you gave up on Upperclassman Aki."

Hikari smiled weakly back at him. If she were honest with herself and she always was, she had barely thought about Mikage Aki since Miyako’s stupid double date had begun. That was a sign of trouble in itself. Usually, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Now, the only thing that kept coming into her head was how very blue Takeru’s eyes were. They were the same true, clear blue as the sky on a perfect autumn’s day. She thought she could have looked into them forever and never grown tired of the colour. (4)

"Earth to Space Cadet Hikari," he waved a hand in front of her face, "From your position somewhere in orbit, can you tell me if the world is still spinning?"

"I think it stopped a while ago," she whispered, her eyes closing as she leant forward to kiss him. It was a clumsy, awkward kiss by anyone’s standards, but it was a kiss nonetheless. Takeru’s lips were soft and warm, and salty from the popcorn. Her arms tightened around him, her left hand sliding up his back to rest on the nape of his neck. She could feel his pulse, beating beneath her fingertips. Around her, all the world fell away and left her alone with his heartbeat and the heat of his skin. There were only her and Takeru, her and . . . . She jerked back in sudden horror, eyes opening, realising exactly whom she was kissing. Takeru looked as shocked as she felt, lifting a hand to touch his lips.

"Hikari?"

Her humiliation acid in her stomach, Hikari snatched up her purse and ran towards the street without looking back. . . .

(1) SMAP are an incredibly famous Japanese group. They’re probably the one Japanese group about which foreigners have heard, if only through them singing in Korea as part of the World Cup spirit of reconciliation between the two countries. World Cup Fever has affected even my stories! Ganbatte, Minami Afurika! ^.~

(2) Hanami is one of my favourite Japanese traditions. Basically, people gather at various places in spring-time to admire the flowers and to eat huge amounts of food. Because some people are a lot more interested in the food than the blossoms, there's a Japanese saying hana yori dango, which literally means dumplings rather than flowers. In other words, it is human nature to put the practical above the aesthetic.

(3) momo no hana, nokoru yuki ya - haru no yume = peach blossoms, left-over snow - a dream of spring. It took me five minutes to come up with a haiku of this staggering badness. Momoko means peach-child.

(4) If you’re bilingual, you’ll get the pun. If not, the Japanese for ‘autumn sky’ is aki no sora. Sora is sky, and aki is autumn.