Ok, I'm sorry, but I kinda forgot the title... I'll put it as soon as I remember (I have to go back and check my mail... he he he....) Anyway, it's a really good story... really cute. Read it!!!!



Okay, I think that this is gonna be the first in a really long series so, in order to understand most of this, pretend that Sora doesn¡¯t have a dad. Also, it helps if you¡¯re in the mood just for something strange. Well, I think that¡¯s it?sorry to anyone who gets confused! I¡¯ll try and make a prologue or something soon! ^_^

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

Throwing on her thickest and warmest coat, Sora Takenouchi slowly opened the front door of her tiny, yet comfortable apartment to let the autumn air wash over her. She took in the deepest breath her lungs could hold and exhaled, already feeling refreshed from the crisp, cold air she knew and loved.

Autumn had always been the best time of year in Odaiba for taking walks and Sora, always being rather smart, had decided to take advantage of it. As she slowly closed the door behind her and locked it, rather than taking the elevator, Sora decided she might like to walk down the stairs. The elevator was always far too cramped and stuffy, it always deprived her of the fresh air her lungs had chosen as their ¡®air of choice¡¯. The stairs, however, not only let her breathe the needed air, but also provided her with a rather sufficient workout that she felt she so desperately needed.

She hummed to herself as she trotted lightly down the steps, not exactly able to place the tune on her lips. As far as she knew, the song had never had any words, but it was one she had known for as long as she could remember.

Before she had realized it, she had approached the last two steps, the same two she had sworn, since she was little, never to touch. Thinking to herself, she skipped the cursed steps with surprising ease, recalling the childhood tale of the two monsters that lived underneath the stairs, only coming up to eat small children who happened upon their steps. Sora, being nearly fifteen now, had learned that this had only been a tale told to frighten and mystify young minds, such as hers had been not very long ago. None the less, habit had always kept her away from those steps, just as habit had kept her away from many other things.

"Hey, Sora!" a voice suddenly greeted from behind, taking the young orange-haired girl by surprise. Knowing the only way to find out who the speaker was, was to turn around, she did so, and found a pair of icy-blue eyes as her reply.

"Yamato!" she said excitedly, recognizing her long-time friend, "What are you doing here?" The blue-eyed boy blushed at this as long strands of his golden hair covered his face.

"Uh¡¦Actually¡¦" he muttered, obviously having trouble with what he wanted to say. Sora, noticing this, attempted to encourage him.

"Yamato, you can tell me anything, you know that!" She offered a smile to the boy, who blushed even harder at her kind words. Finally, he let out a long sigh, and shook his head.

"Ah, it¡¯s nothing," he said, putting the subject aside, "Would you like to go for a walk with me, Sora?" The orange-haired girl thought about the offer for a moment, though she really needn¡¯t have done so. The boy continued to look imploringly at her, "It¡¯s a beautiful day out," the boy commented, glancing sideways at his friend who, in turn, gave him a wry smile.

"It is a beautiful day," Sora agreed, "And it would be a pleasure to walk with you, as always." The blond boy grinned and tried to hide the look of triumph on his face. To Sor a¡¯s surprise and delight, the boy offered his arm to her, but not without a very gracious bow first. She giggled softly and took the offered arm, and they began to follow the sidewalk.

"So, where to, madam?" Yamato asked, putting on his most formal voice. This caused the girl to go into a fit of giggles, which she could hardly control. Seeing her friend acting so different always put her into a strange mood, a mood she liked. After managing to get her laughter under control, she replied to his question. "Any where¡¯s always fine, as long as we stay outdoors. On a day like this, I¡¯d have a fit if we were to stay stuck inside."

Yamato nodded his head knowingly at her comment. "It¡¯s the same for me on days like this. Fall is my favorite season and I feel obligated to spend every moment I can basking in its glory."

"Fall is my favorite season as well," the girl agreed, while Yamato shot her an odd look.

"Funny," he said dryly, "I¡¯d always pictured you as more of the summer type. I never pictured you as the one for cold weather. What makes this season more special to you than any of the other seasons?"

In return for his comment, Yamato received an odd stare from his brown-eyed friend, who shrugged her shoulders and replied, "I should ask you the same thing." She abruptly released his warm arm from her grip and focused her attention on her feet. Her friend sighed audibly and shoved his gloved hands into his pockets.

"I apologize if I offended you at all," he said a unenthusiastically, almost monotone, "If it at all interests you, I¡¯ve always loved fall simply because it brings along with it this feeling that I always find¡¦almost irresistible. I realize how corny that must have sounded¡¦What about you? Why do you like the fall?"

Sora took a moment to think about this. In reality, she had never really thought about an exact reason as to why she loved the season. It had always just been her favorite, no question. It was as if instinct had told her to like it from the beginning, and the love for it had become simple habit. Yamato coughed impatiently, momentarily bringing her away from her thoughts.

She waved a hand at him in response, signaling that she was trying her hardest to think. Delving deeper into her thoughts, she suddenly recalled a certain memory. It was very blurry, yet she could just seem to remember¡¦it was the autumn, she was certain it had to be, for the leaves were golden and they surrounded her. However, it seemed to be nighttime, for the stars were playing in front of her in the sky. They sparkled for her, just for her, it seemed, and she loved them for it. She spun in a circle and closed her eyes, and when she had stopped spinning, her finger had landed on the one, brightest star in the sky, and she smiled. She¡¯d make a wish on it, the same one she always seemed to land on every night, her special star. Her wish was the same as always, something she¡¯d wished for as long as she could remember?she wanted a father. Her father, the one her mother rarely ever spoke of, yet the girl knew she was deeply in love with. The star would reply with a twinkle, almost she could hear it say deep in her heart that, maybe someday¡¦

"Yoo hoo!"

Sora was brought abruptly back to reality by Yamato¡¯s hand waving furiously in front of her face. She blinked hard, trying to figure out what had happened. Apparently, from what she could see, she had just about fallen off the edge of the sidewalk and into a large, deep puddle, before Yamato had snapped her back.

"Thanks," she said breathlessly to her friend, "I guess I just kind of spaced out for a bit."

The boy nodded to his friend with a concerned look in his eyes, though he tried his best to hide it. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets again, deciding to resume his walk. Sora stood behind for a bit, watching her friend as he nearly disappeared around a corner without her.

"Yamato! Wait, up!" she called after him as he turned to face her. The look of concern that had been in his blue eyes was replaced by one of pure friendliness. Once she had caught up to him, he offered his arm to her again, trying his best to play the part of the perfect gentleman. Sora took the offered arm again, this time more grateful for the warmth that it was bound to provide her.

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

Sora hadn¡¯t thought it would be possible, but she had ended up spending the entire day with her friend. They had wandered aimlessly the entire day, only stopping to get some lunch (which Yamato had so graciously paid for.), and now.

They were in the park now, long after the sun had hidden its shining face, to be replaced by his sister the moon and her children, the stars. Sitting on a park bench, they gazed at the stars together, sitting close to conceal what small bit of warmth was left between them.

They had talked of many things that day; it had been unusual and rather awkward whenever a silence lapsed between the two of them, so immediately a new conversation would spring up, and they would feel at ease with each other again.

But, only now, a silence had come between them, each of them deep into their own thoughts. They could hear every sound around them; every drop of moisture that fell off the leaves, the low whistle of the cool wind as it rustled the fallen leaves. Sora could even hear the slight clinking sound as Yamato fingered whatever was in his pocket. She ignored these sounds; however, pushing them back into her mind until she could only hear the one thing she had been intent on.

It had been a long time since they had last spoken to her and she, them. They were not at all angry with her, though. Stars can live for millions of years, they explained to her in her heart. We can wait longer than you think. Besides, it really hasn¡¯t been that long?a season or two?

Sora almost laughed at hearing the stars again, but remembered that Yamato was sitting next to her and kept silent.

It has been a very long time, in my heart, The girl responded silently, A few seasons is a long time for a human.

We understand, Dear Child, the stars said, then Sora could suddenly feel their gaze shift from her, to the blond-haired boy beside her. Who is this with you? They asked excitedly and began to sparkle. We¡¯ve never seen you gazing with anyone but your mother!

Sora smiled to herself and could feel her cheeks burn. He is a friend; his name is Ishida Yamato.

Is he nice? By human standards, at least?

Of course! The girl replied matter-of-factly. Why would I choose a friend who wasn¡¯t so? Yes, he is very kind and loving, even to your perfect standards. I¡¯d love you to talk to him, but I don¡¯t think he would have the ability to communicate with your kind. I¡¯m sorry¡¦

Don¡¯t worry about a thing! Her friends reassured her. Any friend of Sora¡¯s is a friend of ours, for sure!

Thank you¡¦Sora replied, when her conversation was suddenly interrupted by the sound of Yamato¡¯s voice.

"Sora¡¦" he said, a note of hesitancy in his voice. Sora took no notice of this, however. She was too occupied with being angry with him for cutting off her conversation with her friends. A little voice suddenly poked her in the back of the head, after a moment, telling her that he didn¡¯t know what he had interrupted and that it didn¡¯t matter anyway; it was fall now, so she could talk to them every night for as long as she wanted. No big deal.

"Yes, Yamato?" She responded, letting out her small bit of anger in one, short sigh. She suddenly noticed how red her friends usually pale face had gone, as he continued to finger the thing in his pocket nervously.

Sighing with sudden resolution after taking moments of thought on a very impatient Sora¡¯ s time, he looked his orange haired friend straight in the eye and pulled out whatever had been in his pocket?Sora guessed?the entire day.

She gasped when he presented it to her, realizing after several moments of staring that what she was looking at was a purple, velvet box, about he size of the entire length of her hand.

"Wh-what¡¯s this¡¦?" she meant to say, yet her words became lodged in her throat to come out as only a croak. She could almost feel the heat coming from the boys maroon colored face as he opened the velvety box to reveal something that made the girl¡¯s heart nearly skip an entire beat.

"It-its¡¯ a necklace," the boy muttered, stating the obvious, for indeed, it was a necklace; a most beautiful one, at that. It was all silver?everything was silver, the long chain, the trim around the pendent. The actual pendent was not silver, but a dark, almost silky color that almost perfectly matched the same sky they had been watching that whole night. It was all in the shape of a heart that, to Sora¡¯s delight, was almost exactly like her crest of love. In the center of all that beautiful glory was a single diamond, that seemed to sparkle as bright as her beloved stars. After observing it for as long as her eyes could stand, the girl carefully removed the necklace from it¡¯s box so she could feel it in her hands, make sure it was actually real.

To her amazement, it was.

"Yamato¡¦" she breathed, surprised to find that there was actually air remaining in her lungs. "This must have cost you an absolute fortune! I can¡¯t accept this¡¦"

Shaky hands suddenly took the precious piece of jewelry from her grip and slowly moved behind her, to place it around her neck.

"You¡¯re right, it did cost me quite a lot," the boy quivering voice sounded from behind her as he put the tiny clasps together at the back of her neck. "But it was worth it, if only to see that look on your face. I wish I would have thought ahead and brought a camera, but I wasn¡¯t really planning on actually going through and giving this to you."

He finished tying the necklace and took his seat beside her again, trying his best to avoid the girl¡¯ s searching eyes.

"But, Yamato, why?" the question caught in her throat as Yamato gave her a mysterious-looking glare.

"Do you really have to ask?" he said icily, "Why can¡¯t a guy just make a kind gesture these days without being questioned? Why can¡¯t anybody just ever accept anything without ever making me feel like a complete criminal? I bought you a necklace, is that okay?!" All this had come out far more harshly than he had actually intended, and more to reassure himself rather than bring his friend close to tears, like he had accidentally done.

"I¡¯m sorry, Yamato," the girl apologized, her eyes stinging with an oncoming flood of tears. "It¡¯s so nice of you to do this, I shouldn¡¯t need to say anything, should I?" she tried to sniff back the flood, but to no avail. A few tears had begun running down her cheeks even before Yamato had time to react, and when the few tears turned into a flood, all the boy could think of to do was take the crying girl into his arms and try to calm her down; calm himself down, as well.

"Sora, I¡¯m so sorry," the boy said in calmest voice he could produce in his nervous state. "I was just so scared and everything when I gave the necklace to you, I got kind of nervous when you started asking questions. If it really means anything to you, I¡¯ll explain why I got it for you if you stop crying."

The girl did as she was asked, but did not move from the warm comfort she had found in his arms. The boy didn¡¯t really care; he actually rather liked the feeling of having her in his arms. It gave him a sense of warmth and security that he was certain she could feel as well. He gave a long sigh before he chose to speak again.

"Actually, it was about three months ago that I saw the necklace," he started, noting the sudden silence that surrounded him and put a strange feeling at the bottom of his stomach. "I was out to go get something for my dad, I can¡¯t remember what, when I saw that shop window. For some reason, the curtains in the window and the whole feeling that place seemed to put out attracted me in there; I completely forgot what I was supposed to do. I simply stumbled in there, probably looking pretty stupid. That place had a certain type of aura that seemed to put a spell on me, or something. All I can remember once I got in there is seeing the necklace there way in the back, almost buried under a whole pile of other stuff. It didn¡¯t have the box, but was in a type of display case that had been shoved way back and forgotten. The store clerk asked me what I was looking for, and I said that I had wanted to look at the necklace. He didn¡¯t say anything, just nodded and took it out for me to look at. Immediately I knew that it was perfect for you?I didn¡¯t know why. So, I saved up for a while, not really knowing that I was actually going to go through and buy the necklace until today."

Sora was surprised to hear him stop there?she had expected something much different.

"Yamato?" she said, making sure it was alright to talk after such a long story. He loosened his grip around her a bit to look her at her properly.

"Sorry that was so long," he apologized, blushing, if it were actually possible, harder than ever. She smiled weakly at him, clutching tightly to the new treasure that hung around her neck. He attempted to return her smile, but failed, and instead looked as if he were about to be sick. In his eyes, however, Sora could see that he was happy that she had accepted his gift, no matter how reluctant she had seemed.

They sat in silence for a very long time after that, occasionally looking away from the night sky to glance at each other, only to look away again at the sight of the others eyes on them. Sora noticed once as she glanced side long at her friend that his azure-blue eyes perfectly reflected the stars and moon, and she became lost in them. For maybe a few seconds, she managed to tear her gaze away from his blue eyes to study his other features. Her eyes skimmed over his face and lingered for a moment on the pale, golden hair on his head, only to realize that, within a second, her gaze was back on the pale night sky reflected in the boy¡¯s eyes. Her gaze only stirred when she could feel a strange kind of itch that almost seemed to be inside her head.

It¡¯s impolite to stare like that: your eyes might pop out all over and make a mess on that boy of yours!

Sora smiled and looked up to the sky, realizing quickly that her friends, the stars, had come back to talk to her. Sorry, she said quickly, knowing what the stars had said to her had only been a joke to greet her. Have you been watching this whole time?

She could hear their vibrant star laughter; the kind of laughter that only stars could do to lift your heart. No the entire time, necessarily, they said falsely, although we did see the boy give you that thing around your neck. We think you called it a neck-something?

A necklace, the girl replied, a slight redness creeping onto her cheeks. She twisted the necklace chain around her fingers, becoming shy for a moment.

He¡¯s very nice, just as you said. We wish we could communicate with him.

Sora smiled at her friends and nodded understandingly. Yamato, noticing this as he glanced over at her, wondered to himself. He¡¯d always found his friend quite a mystery, just as he did now as he watched her nodding and smiling up at the sky. He looked up to where she was looking, and noticed, for the first time, how bright the stars were?unnaturally bright.

Shaking his head to rid it of any strange thoughts, something struck his mind without warning. He recalled the conversation he¡¯d had with her earlier that day, and the fact that she¡¯d never answered his question suddenly began to bather him. He sighed and decided that he would bring up the subject again.

"Sora," he said quietly, and could see that the sound of his voice had startled the girl, as if he¡¯d interrupted something. She averted her attention away from the sky, giving her blond haired friend a smile that sent shivers up his spine, though he didn¡¯t know why.

"Yes?" she responded, giving him her full attention as he leaned back into the bench, putting his hands deep into his pockets.

"Do you remember the question I asked you earlier today, when I asked you why you loved the fall so much?"

Sora recalled the memory perfectly, without having to search her thoughts for it. She nodded and blushed a little, wondering what her friend might have to say about it.

"Well," Yamato said, raising his eyes to the trees around them, "you never answered my question. I asked what you loved about the fall, and you kind of spaced out for a little bit, then never answered my question."

Sora was only a bit surprised at what her friend had said. She hadn¡¯t expected him to remember something as unimportant as that, and I took her a few moments to respond. Stating up at the sky, the stars shined at her, almost telling her what she should say. She hadn¡¯t ever really given any thought to the matter; her love for the season had almost always been kind of an instinct, almost.

She noticed the look of impatience creeping onto her friend¡¯s face as he waited and, without thinking, the boy¡¯s blue eyes had forced her into a response. "It¡¯s because of my father," she replied, not exactly sure of what she had just said. Brows furrowed in a genuinely concerned statement, Yamato believed that that was all he was ever going to get out of her about the subject. He knew that Sora¡¯s father was "gone", and he did not feel like bringing anything else up.

Glancing at his watch, Yamato gasped. Sora raised and eyebrow at him as she looked down at her own watch?it was nearly midnight!

"Sora," Yamato said, a hint of urgency in his voice, "I think I better take you home. I don't want your mother to worry."

She nodded in agreement, thinking for a moment about what might greet her when she got home. Knowing her mother, Sora guessed there must have been at least a hundred police men out searching for her. She sighed and rose from the park bench she had been sitting on, as Yamato offered her his arm. She took the offer with a warm smile to her friend, and he blushed almost unnoticeably. Fingering the new piece of jewelry that hung limply around her neck, she and her blond-haired friend started on the short journey home.

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

As the orange-haired girl opened the door to her apartment, she was surprised to realize that it was completely deserted. Her mother was no where to be seen or heard. Where could she be¡¦?

"Everything okay, Sora?" A voice said quietly from the doorway. Sora spun around to face Yamato. She nodded a yes and hugged him good-bye, thanking him again and again for the wonderful day and the beautiful necklace, promising, as the blond-haired boy left, that she would never take it off. Sora noticed the boy¡¯s cheeks go pink as she shut the door behind him, and she smiled with satisfaction.

Returning her thoughts to her mother, Sora quickly scanned the house for a note of some kind. After a few minutes of searching, however, Sora decided that there was nothing to be found.

"How strange¡¦" Sora thought aloud, "Mom never goes anywhere without telling me first."

Knowing that just wondering where her mother had gone would do her no good, Sora thought it best to simply go to bed. She was sure her mother would be alright; if she weren¡¯t, she would have felt it, somehow. She¡¯d always had a strange kind of connection with her mother, one that only got stronger as they became closer.

She quickly slipped on her pajamas and climbed into her bed, fatigue suddenly creeping over her. She hadn¡¯t realized how tired she had been earlier, with so much on her mind. Although she still had thoughts spinning around in her head, they were becoming fewer by the second, and her tired brown-red eyes began to close. The last thing she could remember before slipping into the peaceful arms of sleep was the feel of the necklace chain against her skin. At the thought of Yamato she smiled, and drifted slowly into dreams.

* * * * * * * *


Well, what does everybody think? I¡¯ve finally decided that this will indeed be the first of several other parts in my pathetic series. I probably should have written a prologue before writing this part; it probably would have made a lot more sense, huh? Sorry if I confused anyone. I¡¯m such a crappy writer, I¡¯m surprised I even bothered to put this up. But, please be kind and review. Should I give up this story right here and focus on something else, or should I hurry my lazy arse with the next part? Please help me out by telling me! ^_^


----------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---


Hello! I¡¯m back! Yes, it did take quite a long time to get this finished¡¦.and this is only the second chapter¡¦::sweatdrop::¡¦for anyone who might be keeping track of the story: I¡¯ m soooooo sorry this took so long! I¡¯ll try and get the next chapter up as soon as I ca n¡¦anyways¡¦r/r, please! I¡¯ll love you forever! ^-^!!


* * * * * *

The wind gently caressed the woman¡¯s pale face, also pulling loose a few strands of dark auburn hair. Using her shapely, slender fingers, the woman pushed the loose strands into place thoughtlessly as she stared into the dim night sky, wondering. How long had it been since she had been here last? It had to have been more than two seasons?she hadn¡¯t been there since the first day of fall the year before. Such a long time, it seemed¡¦Since she had last seen his face¡¦

It had been nearly thirteen years, the woman remembered, her throat suddenly becoming tight with the threat of an oncoming flood of tears. No, she wouldn¡¯t?she couldn¡¯t cry. He wouldn¡¯t have wanted her to do that; his death would be no loss, he had always said, for he knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. His death would be no loss, for he had left the woman a daughter to pass on the love she had felt for him to the new child.

She recalled the name he had given her: after the sky he had loved and longed for so much, he had named the small girl Sora. The woman wondered of her daughter realized the significance this name possessed. The sky had meant so much to him, it was his life and his passion; she wondered if her orange-haired offspring realized this. She knew nothing of her father, the woman knew. She was so young when the man had passed away, it had had no real affect on the infant, who had just recently grown into a young woman. This young woman is what the auburn-haired woman lived for, now. Her husband and love was gone forever; she had to keep her promise to him to pass on her love to her daughter?their daughter¡¦

The soft wind that had been going abruptly changed into a roaring howl, nearly knocking the dark-haired woman off her feet. It was telling her to go home, to where she belonged with her daughter. She sighed and nodded her head in agreement with the pleading wind. A graveyard at one o¡¯ clock in the morning was no place to be¡¦she had to let him go¡¦

Placing a final rose upon the grave of her husband, the woman turned to the gates and left, not even looking back once. She had to stop mourning over the past?her daughter was what was important now. Only Sora was important¡¦

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

Sora was startled awake by the sound of her alarm clock?a sound that, first thing on a Sunday morning, could set your teeth on edge and make your ears ring. This, however, is what the orange-haired girl had woken up to every Sunday morning for nearly five years, so she was somewhat used to it. Today was the day she would help her mother with the flower shop.

Slipping tiredly from the warmth of her bed and covers, the girl sauntered groggily to her closet and opened it. Quickly deciding what she wanted to wear?a light pink skirt with a plain white shirt?Sora effortlessly slipped them over her head, deciding that a shower could wait until she got home. Working in the shop always got her messy, so what was the point of washing before hand? This had been her theory for as long as she could remember, and she giggled to herself at the thought of it. Fall always brought her back so many memories she¡¯d thought she¡¯d lost a long time ago, and she couldn¡¯t seem to figure out why¡¦

Pulling a gray sweater over her head, the girl¡¯s hand suddenly brushed against something hard and cold¡¦and she blushed. It was the necklace that Yamato had given her the night before. She tucked the necklace back into her shirt where she was sure her mother would not be able to see it, and she quietly walked through the hallway to the kitchen, where the delicious smells of breakfast met her nostrils.

Her mother leaned over the stove, diligently preparing what Sora guessed was going to be an amazing breakfast. She seemed to take no notice as her daughter entered the room, and only turned around when she was addressed directly by her. She mumbled a good morning, barely audible, and continued to stir away at the food she had in the pan. There was a moments silence when suddenly Sora recalled the night before when she had come home to a mother who wasn¡¯t there.

"Momma," she said cautiously, as her mother continued to cook. "Mom, where were you last night?"

The dark-haired woman stopped stirring for only a second, but then took up again, pretending not to have heard her daughter. Of course, she had every right to know where she had gone, but this didn¡¯t mean that the woman would tell her. It didn¡¯t matter to this girl, even if she was her daughter. It was for her own good that she didn¡¯t know.

The orange-haired girl opened her mouth to try again, when suddenly a sound met her ears. Someone was knocking on their door.

Knowing that her mother was most likely not going to see who the visitor was, Sora heaved a long sigh and slouched toward the entry way. Who could possibly be at their apartment at nine o¡¯clock in the morning?

Sora¡¯s question was answered as she swung the door open to reveal a somewhat awkward-looking Yamato. In his hands, she observed, he fingered a pink scarf?her pink scarf. She quickly recalled the other day asking the blond boy to put her scarf in his pockets for her; her own pockets weren¡¯t big enough. A moment of silence came between the two.

"Hi, Yamato," Sora greeted politely, "Is there something¡¦ you needed?"

Yamato looked down at the wool scarf sheepishly and held it out to her, indicating that she was to take it from him. "You forgot this yesterday." He stated simply, his cheeks going slightly pink. As she took the scarf from him, her face went red also, for she could feel her fingers touch his, slightly, as she pulled it gently from his grasp. Another silence followed, neither of the two knowing exactly what to say having suddenly lost all their manners.

"Sora, who is it?" Mrs. Takenouchi¡¯s clear voice could suddenly be heard from inside the tiny apartment. Sora looked inside curiously, wondering why her mother had suddenly decided to speak only now. Still, she turned to her blond friend and offered him a smile.

"Yamato," she said quietly, "Would you like to come inside?" He looked at her questioningly, glancing cautiously into the apartment. The girl giggled.

"Don¡¯t worry, Yamato!" she said brightly, "My mother won¡¯t mind. Besides, I¡¯m sure she¡¯d love to meet you?she always loves to meet my friends."

Having only been slightly reassured, the boy followed her into the cramped apartment, realizing instantly that it was almost identical to his own. She closed the door behind them and told the boy to stay in the entryway while she talked with her mother. He nodded in response as she walked nimbly through a doorway to where, Yamato guessed, was the kitchen. He took his time waiting for her to return to observe every bit of the small room his eyes could reach. Pictures were scattered almost endlessly about the walls, nearly all but a few featuring only Sora and her mother.

"Yamato," Sora¡¯s head suddenly appeared from the doorway, and she signaled for him to enter. He gave yet another nod and followed. Immediately as he entered the kitchen, delicious smells entered his nostrils, delighting and tempting him. He closed his eyes instinctively, blocking out every one of his senses but smell, just so he could savor every last bit of flavor. When he heard laughter, his eyes sprung open and he could feel his cheeks go pink. In front of him stood Sora¡¯s mother, who, to his amazement, looked nothing like her daughter. Her dark, auburn hair was pulled tightly into a traditional bun, and her deep brown eyes sparkled excitedly.

"So," she said, her smile revealing rows of shiny white teeth, "You must be Sora¡¯s friend."

Yamato stood almost dumbfounded for a moment?he had never have even imagined such a beautiful woman to be Sora¡¯s mother. He nodded slightly after recognizing the woman¡¯s comment to be a question, and his orange-haired friend cocked her head at him curiously as her mother continued to smile.

"Breakfast is almost ready," the woman said after a short silence, "Would you care to join us, Yamato?" The blond boy stood in silence, looking stupidly at his friend for assistance. The girl merely shook her head and grinned, grasping her mother¡¯s arm in her own.

"He¡¯d love to join us, Mom," she said and led the woman to a seat at the table, then proceeded to serve up the finished food. The dark-haired woman smiled at her child¡¯s actions and motioned to Yamato to take a seat. He did so, though slower than he usually would have done. In the presence of the woman, every day actions seemed to take far more thought than would have usually been necessary. Sora giggled inwardly as she watched her friend, knowing what had come over him would last only momentarily. She knew that her mother had that sort of effect on all people, not just men, and it always made the girl laugh to watch their reactions.

They sat through breakfast silently, only speaking when it was necessary. In fact, the only time anyone seemed to speak was when Sora brought up the subject of the flower shop, and how much work she and her mother would have to do that day. At his friend¡¯s words, the blond boy automatically volunteered to help them, not knowing exactly why. A feeling in his brain told him that he was doing it just to be closer to the orange-haired girl, but he ignored it.

And so, after having eaten and cleaned up their breakfasts, the three left for the flower shop, each intent on the bright day ahead of them.

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

Sora had to leave the shop early that day, complaining that she was feeling ill.

Immediately Yamato became concerned; becoming sick was certainly not something Sora Takenouchi was known for. Before the orange-haired girl¡¯s mother could say anything, he offered to take her home, and she relented. Someone had to watch the shop, and Yamato was certainly not qualified to do so.

The dark-haired woman had taken an almost instant liking to the blond boy and was sure that her daughter would be safe in his care. This did not stop her from worrying, however, for she realized, like Yamato had, that getting sick was not something her daughter did often, if ever. And in this season¡¦

She shook her head of any negative thoughts and turned to face her daughter and her friend as they left the tiny shop for home. The dark-haired woman suddenly realized how tightly Yamato¡¯s arm was around her daughter; it seemed more like a protective gesture than a natural one to hold her up. In fact, the look he wore on his face seemed to say something; she didn¡¯t know what.

Shaking her head once more, the woman turned back to her work?watering flowers. She only looked back once to glance at her daughter through the window, who was now talking gently with her blue-eyed friend.

"Yamato," Sora murmured, breathing in sharply, "I¡¯m really fine enough to walk on my own?you should go back and help my mother." Her friend turned to her, an amused grin crossing his face that did not hide the concern in his eyes.

"You¡¯re just saying that ¡®cause you think you¡¯re being weak," he responded, his grip on her shoulder loosening only slightly. "I told you¡¯re mother that I would take care of you until we got to your home. Can you deal with it until then?"

Sora nodded weakly and chose to stare at the sidewalk rather than bring up another conversation. She was just so tired¡¦I was fine this morning¡¦she told herself, unable to pinpoint the cause of her weakness. She continued to think it through, until even that began to take more effort than was necessary. Her mind became clouded with nothingness; all she could focus on was keeping her legs moving, and that was becoming harder with every step. It was as if her energy was being drained from her by something far more powerful than she was. She would have liked to be scared, but she was just too weak to even think about it¡¦

Yamato caught her as her legs folded under her.

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

-The girl¡¯s laughter filled the air as he lifted her above his head. Her father, the man she had loved ever since she could remember. He was so kind and loving?how could anyone not adore him as she did? Of course, there were those few who thought?and claimed?that he was strange, but she didn¡¯t care. It didn¡¯t matter; at least not tonight. Tonight was the first day of Autumn.

Setting the orange-haired girl down on the moist grass, he turned his head toward the night sky and sat down beside the young girl. He nodded his head toward certain stars, and the girl pointed her fingers to them, memorizing them. They were her friends, she knew. At such a young age, she had already discovered that she could communicate with them, however poorly she spoke at the age of two. This never occurred to her as not being normal, for no one would ever know. Why share this with other people when she could have them all to herself?

The girl giggled and turned to look at her father?but quickly discovered that it was not her father that looked back at her. Instead, her mother¡¯s deep brown eyes met hers as she enveloped the girl in a tight hug. Wondering to herself, the girl stood still as she felt a kind of wetness at the back of her neck?tears. Her mother¡¯s tears¡¦but, what reason had she to cry? They had been so happy just a second ago; what could have happened to suddenly change that?

The girl looked around and felt as if she had been slapped in the face with the sudden realization that she was no longer outside with her father. Instead, she was inside with her mother, who had been overcome with grief at her own discovery.

"I¡¯m so sorry¡¦" the woman sobbed, tears pouring down her pale cheeks. And at that moment, it became clear to the girl¡¦she would never see her father again. She clung tightly to her mother as tears clouded her vision, and everything faded.

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

Sora woke with a start, gasping for air, her face wet with tears. She hurriedly wiped her face with the back of her hand, using the other to punch the wall. Hard.

"No!" She whispered hoarsely, not wanting to wake her mother incase she might be sleeping. "The dream again¡¦" she pounded her fists furiously on her bed, anger seeping into her. "Why can¡¯t the past just leave me alone?!"

Without her noticing, hot tears had begun streaming gently down her cheeks. She continued to pound on her bed furiously, not caring about how much noise she was making. All she knew was that she had to make it go away. The feelings that she had whenever she had that dream?she couldn¡¯t let it continue. And at that particular moment, being angry seemed like the only solution.

"Sora! Sora, what¡¯s wrong?"

The orange-haired girl could feel someone¡¯s grip on her shoulder. Her anger stopped almost as suddenly as it had started. She left her hands to hang limply at her sides as tears continued to stream down her face. She curled her face into her knees so whoever had spoken would not be able to see her in her moment of weakness. She was just so ashamed of herself after acting like such a child?it was just a stupid dream, after all! How could she have let it get to her like that?

The hand touched her shoulder again, urging her to lift her head. She took a few moments to do so, wondering if she should comply. Yamato¡¯s azure blue eyes met her brown ones as she lifted her head and she gasped. She would have liked to just run then and there, had she not been feeling so weak¡¦

"Sora," Yamato murmured, sounding far calmer than he had ten seconds ago. "Please, just tell me what¡¯s wrong."

The girl could feel her body shiver at the sound of his calm voice?it almost soothed her into talking. But, no, he would not understand. Her tears increased as she continued to stare into his pleading eyes; his eyes held so much concern?for her.

Unable to withstand her sorrow anymore, the orange-haired girl threw her arms around the blond boy¡¯s neck and began to cry uncontrollably.

Yamato nearly jumped up with surprise, but reminded himself that doing something like that would not be kind. Here in front of him was a friend in need of his comfort?he had to stay with her. Unable to think of a better way to comfort his friend, he wrapped his arms around her and rocked back and forth, as if he were cradling an infant.

"Sh¡¦It¡¯s okay¡¦" He whispered softly, stroking the girl¡¯s bright orange hair. As he did this, the girl became more at ease, and her tears lessened. Noticing this, the boy took it as an opportunity to speak to her more seriously. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath. This caught Sora¡¯s attention and she lifted her head off his shoulder, slightly, to listen to him.

"Sora," he began, but abruptly found himself unable to speak. He had caught her gaze?the action had rendered him speechless. They sparkled, over-bright with her salty tears. As he stared further into the girl¡¯s brown eyes, he became aware of just how much sadness was in them and, for some reason he could not explain, he felt suddenly like vomiting. His stomach twisted in knots as he attempted to avert his gaze from her pleading, sorrowful eyes, but found that he could not. He became lost in that brown abyss filled with sadness. He would have done anything to take that away¡¦deep inside himself, he knew that he was in love with this girl, and would have loved to have simply kissed all her tears away, telling her how much he loved her¡¦and then everything would be better¡¦

Ignoring his own feelings and emotions at that moment, he concentrated on the girl in front of him. He brought the orange-haired girl closer to himself in a warm embrace. "Sora, I don¡¯t know what¡¯s wrong," he whispered, his voice becoming too tight with emotion to do otherwise, "But, please don¡¯t be sad anymore. You don¡¯t know how much it hurts me to see you like this."

Sora had heard hardly anything her friend had said. She was already becoming tired again. Being in his arms had given her so much warmth and comfort, she hadn¡¯t the slightest clue as to why she was still crying. Immediately after hearing most of his request, she ceased her crying and held tighter to him.

"I won¡¯t cry anymore, Yamato," she responded tiredly, forcing back a yawn. She was so warm and comfortable, she would have given anything just to stay in his arms like she was forever, feeling safe¡¦and almost loved. She closed her eyes again, almost able to feel the smile that had appeared on her friend¡¯s face¡¦Almost unexpectedly, she fell asleep again, loosening her grip on Yamato¡¯s jacket. This surprised the blond boy only for a moment before he set her gently down onto her bed, pulling the covers over her sleeping form.

He hesitated for a moment before kissing her forehead and stroking her hair one last time. In her sleep, the girl smiled and rolled onto her side, and something fell out of her shirt that had obviously been tucked in on purpose. The boy grinned to himself as he recognized the object to be the necklace he had given her only the day before. With this on his mind, he left the room.

A very worried-looking Mrs. Takenouchi greeted him as he exited the girl¡¯s room, whispering to him softly.

"She¡¯s sleeping fine, Mrs. Takenouchi." Yamato lied, not wanting to increase the woman¡¯ s anxiety. At his reply, the woman¡¯s lips parted slightly into a small smile of relief, although her brows were still furrowed deeply with concern. She knew his answer had been a lie to reassure her?the tearstains on his shoulder were an obvious give away that something had occurred while he had been checking on her daughter.

Smiling reassuringly, the woman led him out of the tiny apartment, thanking him for everything he had done that day and the help he had given them so willingly. Waving to him as she shut the door, she sighed deeply, letting out all the stress she had received during the day. He would be back tomorrow, the woman was sure of it. Yamato loved her daughter with all of his heart, the woman knew it better than either of them did.

He would be back tomorrow.

* * * * * *


So¡¦¡¦..how was that? ¡¦¡¦Sorry, I know it really sucked. Bleh. I¡¯d already had this finished about a week ago, but my dummassed brother deleted it. Then I had to go and retype everything so¡¦gomen. Sorry it turned out completely rushed¡¦just with band and al l¡¦yeah¡¦so, tell me watcha think by using that little box down there. Go on, it¡¯s not too hard! Tell me how much I suck, why don¡¯t you?¡¦¡¦Oh, sorry. I don¡¯t mean to be so negative all the time, it¡¯s just habit¡¦damn, I¡¯m bored now¡¦I gotta go start on the next chapter¡¦.oh, btw, should I add some of the other characters somehow, or is the story going fine the way it is? I could really use some advice, I¡¯m kind of¡¦in a slump. So, yeah¡¦BYE! =^o^=


Website's owner's stuff: Whaddaya think? Pretty good, huh? Aren't you just itching to know what happens next? Huh???? Well, at least I am.... C'mon, Tekno D!!!! Keep it comin'!!!!


Hello! It¡¯s me! ::everybody present gasps:: Yes! I¡¯m not dead! Surprised I got this done, finally? Me too. Sorry I¡¯ve been so lazy to everyone who¡¯s been keeping track of my progress. I have so many excuses, I won¡¯t even bring them up. So, yeah! CHAPTER THREE IS NOW HERE!!! Aren¡¯t you proud? Agh! My wrist hurts from typing! So, I¡¯m gonna stop! r/r! Thankies!! And, I apologize for the long-ness/boring-ness of this chapter! ^_^ have fun reading!!

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

It was raining again¡¦

Yamato rose sleepily from his bed, his dreams rudely disrupted by the patter of the hard, Autumn rain outside his window. Usually he welcomed rain, but tonight had been different. So much had been on his mind; it had taken him nearly an hour to finally get to sleep?before the rain had disrupted it. Had it a neck, he would have liked to strangle it just then, for bringing him back to the land of the waking, also causing his thoughts to rush back to him relentlessly. He sighed and groaned deeply, becoming aware of how sore his arms and back were.

"Probably from working too hard with the shop, yesterday," he muttered to himself, rubbing his sore neck and glancing at the clock from the side of his eye. He groaned deeper as he read the time: Three-thirty a.m. The perfect time to start a beautiful new day of school. Sighing audibly, Yamato knew that he would not be able to get to sleep again; not now that his mind was running, anyway.

He walked sullenly across his small bedroom and opened his creaky door, doing so as quietly as possible. He did not want to wake his tired father who, sadly, had come home only and hour after Yamato had. The man worked so hard to provide for them both?he surely deserved some rest.

His bare feet could feel the cold tile floor as he left the other carpeted areas of the apartment, sending shivers through his body. The night was far colder than he had remembered it being in quite a long time. He¡¯d become so accustomed to the warm, summer weather that he had almost forgotten what Autumn felt like. Although, this night seemed to be far colder than he had ever remembered it being before.

The blond boy ignored this sudden chill and made his way?tiptoeing?to the refrigerator. A soft light filled the dark room as he opened the door and he watched it spread its fingers of light across the cold, linoleum floor. Turning his attention away from the silky beams of light, Yamato poked his head into he chilly refrigerator, not really intent on any certain thing. Truthfully, he was not really hungry or thirsty, and was merely in the kitchen finding food out of pure, innocent habit.

Suddenly coming to the conclusion that he was merely thirsty, the blond boy stepped away from the chilly refrigerator and walked, almost silently, to the cupboard. Reaching a pale hand inside, he picked a glass and filled it with water from the faucet in the sink. He slowly tilted his head back as the glass came to his lips, water pouring from the glass and into his dry throat. Once the glass had been emptied, he set it down quietly in the sink and looked around the empty kitchen. His eyes wandered aimlessly about the deserted room, his eyes growing more accustomed to the darkness that filled the small apartment.

The only lights in anywhere came from the streetlights outside the windows in the apartment, and Yamato¡¯s eyes followed them. The rain was visible on the window in shadows that were seen only through the thin curtains. The rain, though pouring terribly outside, landed softly on the glass of the window, glittering for a moment as it reflected the streetlights, then sliding down and forming larger shadows with the other drops. Without realizing it, the boy¡¯s feet had slowly shuffled over to the window as his hands stroked the thin, silky curtains aside to glimpse out to the outside.

The world was silent. Though Yamato was still on the inside, he could almost feel the stillness of the world by simply looking into the darkness. The rain had begun to steady to a slow, almost rhythmic pace, now coming down in gentle drops. Without thinking, the blond boy¡¯s hand reached for the latch on the tiny window, flipping it upward and pushing up the windowpane with ease. The cold wind from the outside forced its way through the open window, it¡¯s icy fingers caressing the boy¡¯s pale face. The rain, also, decided it might like to come in, seeing as how the window was now open. It splattered against Yamato¡¯s clothes, slowly soaking into the dark fabric and disappearing. The boy stood shivering for a moment amazed at how quickly the steady rain and wind had changed from calm to violent.

A sudden, strange curious feeling overtook the blond boy. Unknowingly, he had stuck his blond head out the window and looked around. The wind and rain beat against him worse then ever, trying to force him back inside. He ignored the sudden violence of the elements, his arms resting comfortably on the edges of the windowsill. His soft hair dripped with the rain that had fallen, and he watched it intently. The drops would linger, only for a moment, to the ends of a few strands of hair, as if the hair were some kind of lifeline. When it could hold no longer, it would drop down to the earth below, joining several other drops on the way. Yamato¡¯s mind wandered as he watched the falling rain, wondering about stupid things that one could only think about when desperately tired. As the rain fell on him, however, nearly soaking and chilling him to the bone, he became more wary and his thoughts became more complex.

His eyes eventually wandered away from the rain on his hair up to the sky, the source of the droplets. It stuck him, suddenly, that he could not see the stars. The clouds were so thick that night that not even one single star was visible and, for some reason he could not explain, this saddened Yamato. After spending so many days in the past two weeks with Sora Takenouchi, he had become¡¦ accustomed to star gazing, which was something the orange-haired girl did nearly every clear night.

The frown the boy had been wearing deepened as he thought of his orange-haired friend, knowing that she was probably sadder this night than he was about the stars not being out. He wondered if, by chance, his friend could maybe be awake, also. Perhaps she, too, had been wakened by the sound of the rain pounding on her window, and that she had gotten up to watch the rain as he had. That, maybe, she could be thinking about him as he was thinking of her¡¦

Shaking his head to clear it of thought, the blond boy knew that something like that was only wishful thinking. Fresh rain fell from the locks of hair he had shaken, falling onto his already rain-soaked face and sending a slight chill down his spine. His brain acknowledged this chill as nothing as his thoughts continued to wander. He could have punched himself for focusing his thoughts on Sora?he¡¯d been thinking about her too much, as it was. In fact, she was nearly all he ever thought about, lately.

He¡¯d already convinced himself that he was, indeed, falling in love with her. He didn¡¯t know what had triggered this sudden change in feelings for this girl that he had known nearly all of his life?if there ever really had been a change. He¡¯d always known that he had felt something for her, but he had always just interpreted this feeling as friendship. How wrong he had been to think that¡¦ He¡¯d always loved this girl and was just far too selfish and naive to ever admit it, even to himself. Spending more time with her had made him realize just how far his feelings went for the orange-haired girl¡¦ and he could have kicked himself for it.

Falling in love was probably the last thing Yamato would ever have wanted to happen to himself, no matter how glorified people made it sound. Love was only wonderful if the person you were in love with loved you back. The blond boy was more than sure that Sora did not. He knew that she felt at least something for him, but this feeling was only friendship, nothing more. Nor would it ever be anything more.

A sneeze escaped the blond boy unexpectedly, causing him to drift back to his senses. He had hardly realized he¡¯d even been with his head out the window, or what he had been thinking about. He pulled himself out gently, closed and locked the window, and rubbed his head, dazedly. He vaguely recalled a picture of a certain orange-haired girl but, being as tired and soaked as he was, he hardly knew what to make of it.

Rubbing his head, he became aware of the state his clothes were in, and decided it best to get changed and attempt to get back to sleep. A yawn escaped his lungs as he trudged tiredly off to his bedroom, intent on a change of clothes and some sleep. Anything he had been thinking of just a few minutes ago had completely escaped him, he couldn¡¯t figure out why. Although, in the state he was in now, he could have cared less. It was probably better that he didn¡¯t remember, anyway, considering how strange his thoughts had been lately¡¦

After changing into some new clothes and climbing into his bed, Yamato became aware of how dramatically the rain had softened. It was barely audible, now. It brought another silence with it, followed by a quick rush of thought. It was all very blurred and nearly disappeared as he rolled over on his mattress, but something seemed to kind of stick with him, even as he fell into a light sleep.

Her smiling face greeted him in his dreams¡¦

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

She awoke coughing profusely, finding it harder and harder to breath with every loud, wrenching cough. She leaned over the side of her strangely and suddenly uncomfortable bed, fearing that her lungs could suddenly fall out, along with her stomach. Her eyes began to tear up as the coughing continued relentlessly, causing her spine to wrench upward with every breath that she lost to the fit.

After nearly five minutes, the coughing subsided, leaving Sora feeling dizzy and gasping for air. It had been like this for nearly two weeks. Sora had been feeling ill in every way possible for so long, yet she tried to hide it as best she could. There was no use having anyone being concerned over her, especially her mother, who seemed to be concerned about her nearly all the time, over nothing or anything in particular. Her mother was far too stressed and worried with other things to bother being worried over her own daughter any more than she already did. It was senseless, and the orange-haired girl did not want to be the cause of some pointless worry.

When the girl had regained the necessary amount of air into her lungs again, she rose unsteadily from her bed and glanced at the clock. Nearly five in the morning, her mother would have already been at work. Sora had always thought it odd that, lately, her mother had been leaving for the shop earlier every week. The girl had certainly noticed a change in her mother, lately, but decided it had been nothing to worry about. For years, Sora had known how much strangely her mother acted in fall apart from other seasons, and she had long ago found the reason why.

Long ago, the orange-haired girl recalled, she had had a father, who her mother had been deeply in love with. However, on some day during Autumn when Sora had only been a tiny child, her father had passed away. This had left her mother devastated, and, even as a young child, Sora knew her mother would never be the same, especially in this season.

But this year seemed to be different. The usual mood the girl¡¯s mother usually portrayed in the fall was one of only slight sadness and an almost constant daze. This year, Sora had carefully observed, had been different from others. Her mother¡¯s sadness seemed to be replaced by a constant mourning that seemed to place an almost tragic air around the woman. She always seemed to be dreading something, though Sora did not know what. She decided, however, that she would not like to know. Her mother was a very mysterious woman, full of secrets and ambitions yet to be uncovered by someone, one day. Sora, having known her mother for her entire life, knew how stubborn she was. She would tell Sora nothing ¡®til the time was right.

Tipping slightly, the orange-haired girl made her way to the door, deciding that a drink of water might be the best thing after having a coughing fit like the one she¡¯d had. The door creaked as she opened it, as quietly as possible at first, until she reminded herself that her mother was most likely not home anyway. She flicked on a few lights as she entered the kitchen, standing for a moment to adjust her eyes. Her mother was surely gone, for on the counter was another note. Picking it up tiredly, Sora skimmed through it, not really paying attention to what she was reading.

"Sora, sorry to leave so early. Please get yourself off to school all right. Have a good day. I¡¯ll see you tonight."

Then she would sign it. Every day, it was the exact same note¡¦ Sora wondered why she continued to read it every day¡¦

Tossing the note aside, Sora proceded to get herself some water. After doing so, she went sullenly back to her bedroom, intent on at least and hour more of sleep, if it was at all possible. However, before she reached the confines of her bedroom, something caught her eye. The rain was coming down hard outside the kitchen window, possibly harder than it had that entire night. For some reason, this suddenly made the girl curious and, without giving sleep another thought, she walked lightly toward the window.

Pushing aside the curtains, the orange-haired girl stared intently out the window. She was surprised that the sun had not risen yet. In fact, there was hardly any light anywhere, as far as she could see. Sora¡¯s apartment building was located on the outskirts of the city, far away from the bright lights that others usually saw through their windows. The only light the girl really ever depended on was the moon and the--!

"The stars¡¦" Sora muttered to herself, suddenly taken aback. "My stars¡¦ aren¡¯t out tonight¡¦ and soon it will be morning¡¦" She could feel her spirit drop. Usually the rain was so inviting¡¦ during other seasons. Fall was not the time for rain?it couldn¡¯t rain! Fall was the only time she ever got to communicate with them. How was she supposed to talk to her friends if the clouds never went away?

The orange-haired girl rested her elbows on the window ledge, then placed her chin in her hands. She watched the sky intently, again giving it a questioning glare. Why did it have to rain? She wondered this over several times in her mind, hardly noticing that the night was slowly slipping away, leaving her without a chance to talk to the stars, anyway. The only time it struck her that the day was approaching is when the streetlights outside her apartment abruptly flickered off in unison, signaling that the new day was nigh. Surprisingly, the rain began to slow, as if it were excited at the prospect of a new day itself. However, considering the fact that it was still Autumn, the morning was still dark and still. No cars passed, no dogs barked. Everything seemed utterly still on this new morning.

Taking her eyes away from the window to focus on a nearby clock, Sora became aware that it was nearly time to get ready for school. Giving the sky one last, resentful glance, she drew the thin curtains together and trudged away to her bedroom. It was only around six o¡¯ clock, but Sora always liked to be ready by seven. This was always so she could stop by the park on her way to school to watch the leaves from the trees fall. Other than the stars, Sora¡¯s favorite part of Fall had to be the falling leaves. They were always particularly beautiful, she observed, in the exact area she lived. It was her way of thanking them by admiring their beauty at every possible moment.

The smell of roses and clean linen are what greeted Sora as she slid open her closet in search of her sailor fuku. Upon spotting the fuku, she unwittingly turned her nose up in disgust. She¡¯d always hated the outfit, colored a disgusting shade of green that horribly clashed with her ginger-orange hair and a too-short skirt to match?she would have paid good money to burn the thing. However, after staring disgustedly at the suit for a while, she finally managed to pull it on. She knew that it wasn¡¯t too bad; once she had it on, she¡¯d hardly be able to see it. It¡¯s what other people saw that worried her.

The mirror had become slightly dusty overnight, and Sora was forced to use the sleeve of her fuku in order to see a reflection. As her eyes focused on the image she knew to be herself, she became aware of how horribly messy her hair had become. Taking the comb set upon the desk beside her, she pulled it through her orange hair, only slightly amazed by how easily any tangles or knots came undone through the force of her comb. She studied herself only for a moment before locating her favorite scent bottle and spraying it through the air. She carefully watched the mist as it floated down, then stepping through it, catching some of the scent on herself.

The rest of her morning preparations went by normally. The sky was still somewhat dark when she left her apartment, though there was enough light to see by. She closed the door gently as she exited, making sure to lock the metal door behind her. The morning was freezing, and vile winds bit at Sora from every direction. The comfort of a warm elevator seemed more promising than ever. The ride was short, however, and barely managed to warm more than Sora¡¯s fingertips. She shivered and clutched her coat tightly, determined to tough out the cold. She headed in the direction of the park nearest to her school.

As she neared the park, leaves began to fall from every direction. The orange-haired girl watched them as they fell, occasionally falling onto her head or shoulder. Moist leaves would stick to her shoes as she walked, and she would not bother to kick them off. She found her favorite bench, after a while, and sat down.

The girl nearly jumped from her seat as she felt a hand on her shoulder only after a moment of sitting. The person immediately apologized for startling her. She immediately recognized the voice and, as a natural reaction, she could feel her face begin to burn. Icy blue eyes met her own brown eyes when she turned around.

"Morning, Sora," Yamato said warmly, and took a seat next to his orange-haired friend. She immediately turned her head away to hide the blush that was slowly making its way to her cheeks. Out of habit, her hand found its way to her neck and, from there, found the chain of a necklace. The necklace he had given her on the first day of Fall only a few weeks ago. She held the piece of jewelry in her cold hands and waited for the blushing to subside, then turned to her blond friend and returned his kind greeting. There was a moment of silence before Yamato decided to start a conversation.

"What¡¯re you doing here, Sora?" he questioned, not really curious to know at all. He was surprised to have found her there, but it was a surprise that made him happy. He loved seeing her more than anything. After the night he¡¯d had, her presence made him happier than anything, after having spent nearly half of that night wishing to see her. The smile on his face refused to go away.

"I always come here," Sora responded, "Every morning before school, I come to watch the leaves." Yamato looked at her questioningly.

"Is that so?" He asked, turning his gaze from his friend¡¯s wind-bitten face, to the trees. "Hm¡¦ You have some very interesting habits, I¡¯ve noticed." Sora grinned at his comment.

"So, you¡¯re saying that you¡¯re habits are normal?" she commented, glancing at him from the side of her eye. The smile on Yamato¡¯s face changed from a wide smile to a friendly smirk as he once again focused his vision on the orange-haired girl.

"As normal as they come," he stated matter-of-factly, and Sora grinned to herself. She opened her mouth to retaliate, but the only sound that managed to come out was the chattering of her teeth. She quickly shut her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut, hugging herself tighter. Yamato immediately became concerned. The weather was indeed cold, but it couldn¡¯t have been that cold, could it?

Her fingertips stood out from the rest of her hand, having become a bright reddish color while the rest of her skin stayed a pale, sickly tan. Upon instinct, Yamato reached over and took her frostbitten hands into his, and held them tightly. Sora would have liked to react, but as of then, it felt as if her entire body was being frozen. She didn¡¯t want to move, for fear that she might lose the bit of warmth she had collected.

"Sora," Yamato muttered, "You¡¯re so cold!" reaching into one of the many pockets sewn into his jacket, he fished around for a moment before pulling out the desired object. Gently, he rubbed Sora¡¯s cold fingers before bringing out a pair of black wool gloves, and handing them to her. She stared at them blankly before realizing what was there. She took them quickly; almost greedily, and shoved them onto her hands without hesitation. She then allowed Yamato to continue rubbing them in his own, strangely warm hands. Within seconds, Sora¡¯s entire body had been warmed significantly, either from the blood warming up in her hands or some other sense in her body. She didn¡¯t know which, but she also didn¡¯t care. At least she was warm¡¦ and with Yamato.

In the distance, a bell rang, signaling to the two teenagers that it was time to get going. And they did so, Yamato helping Sora up from the bench and, to her great surprise and delight, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, stating that he was only trying to keep both of them warm. This was only partly true, though Yamato dared not admit it. He knew well enough to admit to himself that he was in love with her; he had no need to let her know it. They walked slowly together in silence to school, both of them leaning close together to conceal warmth and, perhaps, something else.

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

The professor strode smugly to the front of the room, waiting in anticipation for the class to bow to him in unison, as expected. The class rose and bowed only half-heartedly, for this particular man was hated among many of the students. Displeased by their performance, the professor forced them to do it again, until the class could do it "respectively". They were forced to do it only once more, which was unusual. This happened nearly every day as that fat man strode into the classroom, and they were sometimes made to do the bow nearly four times ¡®til they got it right. It became almost a daily chore. One that was loathed in all ways possible.

The students seated themselves, only a few still wearing grins on their faces. They would be wiped off soon enough, Yamato was sure. Only for the few devoted fans of the subject, the class was, in the very least bit, enjoyable. Yamato was not among them. For him, the subject, which happened to be Ancient Japanese, was among his most hated. The only way he found the class in the least bit tolerable was the fact that a certain orange-haired girl shared all his classes.

He watched her intently now, sitting in her front row seat, giving almost her full attention to the fat man who stood in front of the class, now scribbling nonsense onto the black board. His writing was almost illegible; you almost had to squint to read it. Yamato was grateful, however, that most of what was written always came from their textbooks. As much as he hated the class, he was determined not to fail it, and that meant being able to understand what was said and instructed.

The professor, having spent the last three minutes scribbling down impossible kanji symbols, grunted abruptly, meaning that he now wanted the classes attention. Few heads turned as he cleared his throat and directed a meter stick toward the board.

"Take out your textbooks!" he nearly hollered, startling only a few afternoon sleepers. The class did as they were ordered. Yamato didn¡¯t have much in his desk to search through; somehow, his Japanese book always seemed to float up to the top of everything, begging to be read. He took it disgustedly from inside his desk, looked at the symbols scratched on the board, and flipped the pages to what he hoped he¡¯d read as the right page.

Immediately upon looking at the page, the title caught his attention. "Myths and Legends" is what it read, and this surprised him. The professor, earlier on that year, had mentioned that they would most likely be skipping over the entire chapter, as well as a few others that had seemed in the least bit interesting to anyone, including Yamato. Without second thought, his eyes began scanning over the pages; his ears ignoring the professor whose voice now jabbered on like a duck. In a way, the professor was much like a duck. This is one of the main reasons Yamato always chose to ignore him.

His eyes scanned the page for a moment, before coming to a halt to where, in bold italic, the first legend began. "Lesson I: The Princess of the Stars". This title hardly caught his attention. It wasn¡¯t until he began reading that he became absorbed, almost instantly.

"The legend is an old one, going as far back as ancient times." Is how the textbook read. It was followed by a small illustration of a woman with flowing black hair and silky white robes, looking up to the sky as small lights floated about her hands. Yamato was intrigued by it; it seemed oddly familiar. He read on.

"Once, long ago, the universe was said to have been ruled by the Sun and his children, the stars. Although the Sun had many children, he had no one to rule under him when he was gone. So, he decided to have another son, who would be the one to take his place. When the day came that the new star would be born, he was enraged to discover that he had been given a daughter. In his rage, he threw her to earth as a falling star."

A question was thrown into the story at about this point. Yamato ignored it and moved his eyes onto the next paragraph.

"Upon landing on the solid ground of the earth, the star was, and would be, alone to raise herself. Nearby woods served as a shelter for her as she grew to a young woman. She never left the woods. It was always so peaceful; she didn¡¯t see the point in going out into the busy world. Near her forest was a kingdom that was ruled by a steadfast king. This king happened to have a son, who would often visit the nearby forest to find peace away from his kingdom, like the star did. It was the first day of autumn that he saw her on a trip to the forest, one night. She sat on a rock watching the stars as he hid in the bushes, watching her in awe. He was astonished by her beauty, and was soon drawn toward her. She took no notice of him until, also unnoticed by her, a tear slid down her cheek. The prince watched the glistening droplet before carefully wiping it away with his hand. She turned to him in shock, but did not run. The young prince fell helplessly in love with her, almost instantly. He knelt down beside the girl and took her hand, promising to come back every night to see her. The boy proved the next night that he would be keeping this promise for a very long time."

The professor¡¯s duck-like voice forced Yamato¡¯s head to snap to attention, thinking that he was the cause of the disturbance in the fat man¡¯s voice. Upon looking up, however, he became aware of the student that stood, trembling, at the front of the classroom. Yamato shook his head for the student, for the duck they had for a professor always dealt out the worst punishments. He watched for a moment longer, then turned his attention back to the text he had been so absorbed in.

"As the fall season drew nearer and nearer, the young prince noticed how absorbed his new, mysterious friend had become in the stars. Of course, she always was; over the time they¡¯d spent together, she had taught him everything he now knew about them. Another thing he¡¯d noticed-- the thing that concerned him the most-- was that her health was slowly slipping. She began to draw herself deeper and deeper into the sky, leaving no room for her own personal affairs. He offered her the chance to find medical assistance in his kingdom, yet she declined, claiming that she would be all right, because she was strong.

He found it difficult to believe her as, one night as he came to visit her, she was even too weak to move her head to look at her precious stars. He stayed with her that night, making sure she would be okay. Eventually, he fell asleep and was only woken by a bright light that disturbed his slumber. He immediately found the source of the light. His friend, the star, was going up into the sky! She ascended higher and higher, so he was unable to catch her. A light surrounded her figure and the stars were shining brighter than ever. As he watched in fear, an object fell from above him; he caught effortlessly, and realized that it was a necklace in the shape of a heart. He held it, thinking dearly of his lost friend, unaware of the fact that he was also ascending until he was far above the earth. He closed his eyes fearfully, before his feet caught solid ground. Looking around, he gasped, unable to believe that all the fairy tales he¡¯d heard about the place could be true."

Yamato drew in a sharp breath, suddenly anxious for a reason he did not know. He managed to stay focused, however.

"He was among the stars! Their realm, which had never been opened to any human before, had been opened to him! He stared around dazedly, when he saw her. She walked crookedly, and it pained him to watch her. He also wondered, to himself, what she could have been doing there, so he caught up to her and spun her around to look at him. He gasped painfully as he looked into her eyes, realizing that they were lifeless. Then it struck him?she was one of the stars that ruled the universe! One of the lifeless, emotionless stars that watched the earth under the rule of the Sun¡¦ she didn¡¯t belong there, like they di d¡¦

Taking his friend by the hand, he urged her to come back with him. She did not respond. Instead, a booming voice, one the prince could only guess belonged to the Sun, spoke for her. The Sun explained that the prince¡¯s friend was a fallen star that had dropped to the earth by accident. They now wanted her back among them, where she belonged. The Sun also made sure to note that, if his daughter were ever to return to the earth, she would die at his bidding. The prince found it difficult to take everything into account, stating, to himself, that there had to be some way to take her back. He knew he could not part from her, believing that he would die himself without her. He loved her as far as his emotions would allow, he realized, and the Sun was touched by his words.

The Sun became gentler as he spoke to the boy, telling him again that it was impossible for the girl to go back. She would surely die, unless she found some kind of life support. She was not human, and earth was not her home. The prince knew and understood this, but persisted, claiming that, if it were at all possible, he would be her life support. This puzzled the Sun greatly. The prince knew what he had to do and, without word to or from the Sun, he wrapped his arms gently around the emotionless girl whom he loved so dearly, and it immediately felt as if his entire life force was being sucked from him. The Sun ordered the boy to stop as he realized the situation?he was giving up his energy to bring the girl back to life! The prince ignored the Sun, reassuring him, while straining to keep upright, that they would both be okay, if he just let them go back to the earth together.

"The Sun finally relented. He knew the prince loved the girl more than anyone ever could, and his realm was no place for them to stay. The prince held tightly to the girl as the bright light surrounded them once more, this time sending them to the earth. As their feet hit solid ground again, they both fell into a deep sleep that lasted for the rest of the night. When they awoke, they immediately took into account the night before, the prince filling in the girl on what had happened when she had been in her lifeless state. She embraced him, afterwards, claiming that she would never let him go again. And so, they stayed together for as long as they lived, Prince of Earth and Princess of the Stars. It was also said that, years afterwards, the stars continued to glow brighter than day, solely for the Princess."*

Yamato sat in silence, staring at the page that was now filled with questions. The story was over, and he was suddenly filled with emotions he was unable to explain. The story had close to no relevance in his life, yet it had struck him, hard. He closed the textbook silently, so the professor would not take any notice. He did not want to be tempted to read the story again; in fact, he wanted to forget it, with all his heart. Something had been important about it, yet he could not place what. He didn¡¯t want to know what.

Ignoring what was going on around him, he set his head on the desk and breathed in deeply. A nap seemed rather promising, at that moment¡¦

Unrealized by him, his orange-haired friend, positioned in a window seat at the front of the classroom, had been reading the same story. Like him, it had struck her hard, if not harder. She¡¯d heard a similar tale from her late grandmother when she was little. Though the text book version had been far more choppy and less accurate then her grandmother¡¯s version, it had still had an impact; one that hurt. Memories of days long-gone swirled around in her head like a mess. She couldn¡¯t control them. With all the thoughts and memories floating around in her head, she began to feel dizzy. Well, perhaps that had not been the exact reason, but something was making her feel sick and dizzy. She held her head in her hands as she rested her face in her open textbook, intent on stopping the spinning that was getting faster. She closed her eyes as her vision became blurry, and she suddenly became angry at the fact that she had not seen something like this coming. She¡¯ d been sick for weeks; it had been stupid of her not to stay home even once. She could feel the world begin to disappear around her as her thoughts became further and further away¡¦

The classroom went still as the orange-haired girl slipped from her desk, unconscious.

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

Yamato tried everything to get out of school early that day. After seeing Sora fall, he knew he had to see her. He tried everything from faking sick to a fake appointment, but nothing worked. By the end of the day, he was about close to throwing up from anxiousness. He wasn¡¯t sure how he¡¯d make it through any longer, when the bell that indicated school was officially out for the day chimed.

He raced down the halls of his school, intent only on getting to Sora. He nearly had to push and shove his way out of the crowded school, his only focus, at that moment, being the orange-haired girl. Without stopping at his own apartment to drop off his things, he raced to his friend¡¯s apartment, which happened to be one of the farthest buildings from the school. His side had begun to ache from running as he neared the girl¡¯s apartment, and he only rested for a moment, attempting to locate his friend¡¯s apartment from the street. He then entered the elevator, making sure to press the button to the correct level.

He reached her door, so impatient to see her that he almost forgot to knock. When he did, there came no reply. He tried the buzzer. No reply. Once again, then. Or, again¡¦ he sighed and decided it was hopeless. Perhaps her mother had taken her to the doctor, or¡¦

He had turned to leave and had taken a few forced steps, when a familiar voice called out to him. He turned to face Natsuko, Sora¡¯s mother. Her face was filled with relief when she saw his face, and she grabbed him by the wrist, urging him inside the apartment.

"Yamato, I¡¯m so relieved you¡¯ve come!" she said, concern still apparent in her voice. "I was afraid to leave her by herself, but now that you¡¯re here¡¦" her voice trailed off as she led Yamato to the kitchen, offering him a glass of water after noticing how red his face was from running. In the time Yamato had spent with Sora, he had also gotten close to Sora¡¯s mother, who now treated him like the son she never had. He smiled politely but refused the glass of water, asking cautiously if it would be all right for him to see Sora. The dark-haired woman nodded, trying her best to smile.

"Actually, I¡¯d like to know if you would stay with her while I¡¯m gone," Natsuko said as they traveled down the narrow hall. "I¡¯m afraid to leave her alone¡¦ but, I have to go out. It¡¯s important that I do¡¦"

The woman¡¯s voice quieted as she neared the door to Sora¡¯s bedroom, putting a finger to her lips in a signal for Yamato to be quiet as possible. He swallowed up a breath of air as he followed the dark-haired woman into the bedroom. Immediately he spotted his frien d¡¯s orange hair through the darkness of the closed curtains. It hid the soft rain that was now falling outside, giving the room a serene mood. Sora slept peacefully on her bed, the covers tucked tightly around her body. Yamato only took his eyes off of her when Natsuko put a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Yamato, will you stay with her?" The woman whispered, looking hopefully at the blond boy. He looked back at her, noticing, for the first time, the wrinkles of worry on her face. This was a woman with many worries and doubts, Yamato was sure. She needed all the help she could get¡¦

A reassuring smile crossed his face. "Of course I will, Ms. Takenouchi," he replied, his low voice almost nonexistent in a whisper. The dark-haired woman¡¯s worried face broke into a gentle smile, and Yamato recalled that, through the time he had known the woman, he had only seen her smile once before. He had done something great for this woman, and a sense of accomplishment spread over him like a plague. He smiled wider.

"Do you need to call you father?" Natsuko asked, her own smile fading a little, but not so much as to be noticeable. The blond boy shook his head.

"No, he¡¯s gone for the week," he replied. "I¡¯m on my own for this week. I¡¯m sure he wouldn¡¯t mind, anyway, if I stayed to care for a sick friend for a few hours. It¡¯s okay."

The woman smiled as she led him back to the kitchen, taking out paper and pen to write instructions and such, no matter how much Yamato tried to tell her he would be fine. She was just like her daughter, always so wrapped up in trying to help others that she ignored any protest that came her way. The boy smiled to himself and shook his head, almost laughing out loud at how amazingly similar mother and daughter were.

He followed her to the door as she left, hurriedly putting on her walking shoes and a coat. She handed Yamato the instructions, assuring him once again that she would try not to take too long. Only a few hours, if at all that much. Then she was out the door.

The blond boy watched the door for a few moments before heading back to the kitchen, deciding that the glass of water sounded rather tempting, about then. He then stopped himself, realizing that, through all the rush of talking to Natsuko, he had not asked where she was going.

Deciding that it was not really important, he found himself the glass of water, finding it hard to swallow through the emotional lump of concern jammed into his throat. He then made his way to Sora¡¯s bedroom, intent on nothing but staying with her ¡®til Natsuko returned. The room was still dark when he entered, and the rain outside had become harder. It now nearly beat on the window, causing Yamato to worry that it would wake his sleeping friend. He had nothing to worry about, however, for Sora was sleeping as peacefully as a baby. He smiled to himself once more before finding a chair and drawing close to the bed.

Setting his things down in a corner, he sat down, gazing affectionately and concernedly at his friend. He wondered what could have gone wrong that day, to make her faint like she had. He¡¯d been nearly scared to death for her. No matter how much she had tried to, in the past few weeks, to hide it from him, he could tell her health was slipping. She had become paler and far more sensitive to the cold than he had ever known her to be. She would also stumble, occasionally; something she never did or was ever known to do. She would always try to cover it up as clumsiness, though Yamato would never once believe her. He almost wondered why she even tried, but then recalled the way her mother acted: stubborn. She would refuse help when it was needed, always thinking that she could take care of herself.

Yamato sighed silently, dazedly staring at his friend who rested underneath the thin covers. He noticed, for not the first time, how frail she looked. No matter how much the girl tried to act tough and boyish on the outside, Yamato sometimes managed to catch her off-guard. In those off-guard moments, she would usually show some kind of weakness, like sadness or anger. He¡¯d seen her cry a fair few times, as he¡¯d also seen her angry. He was surprised to recall how many times he¡¯d been the cause of her weak points, only to make her laugh or smile immediately afterward.

The orange-haired girl turned in her sleep, suddenly, letting out a small whimper of pain that a dream was obviously causing her. He wondered at that moment what she could possibly be dreaming about, only to remind himself that other¡¯s dreams were none of his business, even if she was his friend.

After a few more minutes of simply thinking and staring, Yamato decided that he could no longer withstand the utter boringness of the room. Quietly raising himself from the seat, he padded over to the corner where his things were, in search of his guitar. Pulling it gently from its case, he plucked a few strings before taking his seat next to the bed.

He played a few chords before going onto a song, one he had played so many times at concerts and parties. It was a wonder why he never got tired of playing the same thing over and over. He wondered if he ever would. He had wondered a lot of things that day and, ironically, he wondered why.

Shaking his blond head, he focused all his thought solely onto his music. He hummed in time with each sting he plucked, the music becoming more intense. One chord led off to another, and soon he was playing the song as vibrantly as ever, humming along, and forgetting, for the moment, the entire world. All that mattered was the music. It required his entire attention¡¦

The song ended quicker than he had expected. Unable, for the moment, to think of another song, he set down his guitar and once again focused his attention on the orange-haired girl that lay in the bed.

He was surprised to see that she was shaking. Her back was facing him, but he could tell that she was indeed, crying. Her shoulders shook up and down with every silent sob, and the rest of her frail body quivered. She turned in her sleep, abruptly, so Yamato could see her face. The boy almost broke into tears himself mainly at the expression on the girl¡¯s face. It was of utter pain and sorrow, something the blond boy had never hoped to see on his friend¡¯s usually bright face. It wrenched in pain with every tear that slid down from her cheeks, falling silently into a puddle where her pale face lay.

Yamato was overcome with a sense of helplessness. He was sure Sora felt the same way, in her sleep. All people became so helpless in their sleep, unable to help themselves in their make-believe worlds.

Unable to watch his friend suffer from innocent nightmares any longer, Yamato stepped down from the chair to kneel beside the bed. Hesitantly and with much consideration, the blond boy gently shook his friend¡¯s thin shoulder, urging her to wake from her horrible nightmare. The tears immediately slowed, although a slight groan escaped from the girl¡¯s throat, indicating that she was still in her nightmare and still in pain. With a bit more urging, shaking just a bit harder than before, Yamato began whispering to the girl, attempting to relax her. She did so, and, abruptly, her eyes fluttered open. Yamato smiled when her clay-brown eyes focused on him.

"Yama¡¦ Yamato¡¦?" Sora muttered softly, almost inaudibly. The boy nodded gently in reply, and was nearly thrown onto the floor as the girl¡¯s thin arms flung themselves tightly around the boy¡¯s neck. It took him a moment to take in what had just occurred, before wrapping his arms around the girl in concern. He could feel her body shaking against his; she was crying and was, more than likely, scared. He held her tighter, both of them on their knees on the softly carpeted floor, Yamato trying his hardest to calm down his friend. She cried into his shirt, almost ignoring his words, repeating words that Yamato could not understand over and over. He stroked her back gently, becoming more panicky with every question the girl did not answer.

"Sora, please!" Yamato whispered, panic now evident in his voice, "What¡¯s wrong¡¦?!"

The orange-haired girl did not answer.

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

It had taken some doing, but Yamato had finally gotten the girl under control, although she still refused to tell him what was wrong. They had talked for quite a while, afterwards, Sora refusing to go back to sleep. She wouldn¡¯t say why, but Yamato knew it was because she was afraid. He didn¡¯t blame her. He probably wouldn¡¯t want to go back to sleep, either, so he allowed her to stay awake.

He had become concerned and impatient as ten o¡¯clock drew near, for Sora¡¯s mother was supposed to have been home hours ago. Sora, however, was not aware of this. He decided it was best not to tell her and risk her crying or panicking again.

As the clock turned finally to eleven o¡¯ clock, Yamato gave up hoping for Ms. Takenouchi to arrive. He also noticed that Sora had begun to yawn, as he did. He urged her to sleep. She frowned at him.

"Yamato¡¦" she muttered, about to protest once more. Unexpectedly, her eyes brimmed with tears, causing the blond boy to feel a sudden surge of guilt. He ignored it, telling himself that her health was more important than what she did and didn¡¯t want to do.

"Sora," he said calmly, "You know you need to sleep. It¡¯s not good for you to stay awake; you¡¯re not gonna get any better if you do."

The orange-haired girl looked almost crushed. "Yamato, I¡¦ I can¡¯t sleep¡¦ I just can¡¯t!" the tears in her eyes leaked out, and she brushed them away with a quivering hand. There was fear in her eyes as she spoke. The guilt inside Yamato became stronger.

"Sora, please!" Yamato urged, rising from his chair to kneel beside the frightened girl. "I know you¡¯re scared, don¡¯t try to hide it from me. I know that you know you have to sleep; you are not well!"

The girl still looked hesitant, though her expression was of relent. Yamato took advantage of her sudden weakness and persisted.

"Sora¡¦" he continued, becoming gentler as he spoke. "I¡¯ll be right here beside you. You won¡¯t have anything to worry about with me here. I promise I¡¯ll protect you from whatever kind of dreams you¡¯ll have."

Sora continued to look doubtful. "But¡¦ I¡¦" she murmured, her voice becoming wispy. Her eyes teared up again. "I¡¦ won¡¯t be able to see you¡¦ I won¡¯t be able to see you anymore when I fall asleep, Yamato. I won¡¯t know where you are, and I¡¯ll just be scared again¡¦"

Yamato took this deeply into consideration before deciding what he would do. Sitting on the edge of the girl¡¯s bed, he wiped the tears that fell onto her cheeks. She looked up at him, dazedly.

"Sora," he said, his voice deep and reassuring. "Just lie down. Please."

Sora immediately did as she was told, curious to find out her friend¡¯s intentions.

"Now, close your eyes," Yamato whispered. Sora did this, too, and found herself feeling more comfortable in her friend¡¯s presence.

Yamato, noticing that his friend had done what he¡¯d asked of her, removed his slippers and swung his legs onto the bed, surprising the orange-haired girl. He merely smiled at her a warm smile that could have melted anyone¡¯s heart. She could feel him take her cold hands into his own, and her heart raced. She closed her eyes again, more tightly. Her thoughts became lost as her friend spoke again in his deepest, most reassuring voice.

"Now you can sleep, Sora¡¦" the boy said softly, looking his friend straight in the face, adoringly. "I¡¯m right here with you, now. I know you won¡¯t be able to see me in your dreams, but you can feel me here, beside you. As long as you can feel me, you shouldn¡¯t be scared."

Sora was in a daze. Her friend¡¯s kindness was almost beyond words¡¦ she didn¡¯t know what to say. Opening her eyes, she found that the boy was looking straight back at her. Almost instantly, she became lost in the crystal blue sea that was his eyes; she couldn¡¯t pull away. And he stared back, adoringly¡¦ lovingly. Without thinking, Sora wrapped her arms around his neck and twined her legs around his, tears suddenly falling from her eyes once more. Yamato could do nothing but smile, and soothe her until she finally fell asleep, still in his arms.

He watched her sleep, for a long time. She seemed so peaceful, now. Twirling her soft, orange hair in his fingers, the blond boy noticed, for the first time, that the girl he held in his arms still wore the same necklace he had given to her only two weeks ago. It sparkled, now, from the light of the moon through blinds that he had opened earlier that day. It had stopped raining, so the stars were shining brighter than ever, happy to be away from the cover of clouds.

Fatigue suddenly overtook the blond boy, as he watched his friend sleep so peacefully. He closed his eyes and, without much thought, kissed the girl on the forehead before falling into a peaceful sleep himself.

The stars shined through the small window, watching the young boy and girl¡¦ they watched their friend, Sora, especially. It had concerned them that she had fallen ill so soo n¡¦ her father had lasted so much longer on the earth than she had been¡¦ however, they knew she would be well soon enough. They knew what they had to do to make her well again, and they intended to carry through with it¡¦ for her sake.

They watched as Sora shivered, slightly, in her sleep¡¦

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


^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

*Just a little note, there. Yes, I did come up with that by myself. It¡¯s not a real legend. And, sorry for the corny-ness of it; It¡¯s just gonna be important in the upcoming chapter. I promise, that pointless bit of crap DOES have some relevance do it!! ^_^

Eek! I¡¯m soooo sorry to leave the story right there! I just thought that I had to get SOMETHING out to you guys, so¡¦ here! CHAPTER THREE IS COMPLETED! ::bows as everyone claps then throws tomatoes:: Ah! I promise to try really hard to get chapter four out sooner than this one! Special thanks to everyone who waited long enough for me to finish this much! You don¡¯t realize how much your comments mean to me! ::sniff:: ::hugs everyone present:: Eeepers! I¡¯ll stop rambling and bugging you now! I¡¯d love some feedback on this, and thanks to everyone! ^_^ ja ne!



Words from the webmistress: Is this good or what???? Oh sweet Yamato.... sniffle*... poor Sora... (lucky too!)