SPIRAL ANSWER
by Kirstian Lezubski

What’s my love?

Dou sureba ii

Why is it

Daremo ga kokoro tozashita mama de

Everyone closes their hearts

Konna ni utsukushii niji wo

To this sort of beautiful rainbow?

Ore ni shika misenai nante

Surely it’s not only lit up in me...

~

His unusually slow fingers barely skimmed the strings, merely brushing against their round, cold surface. Each soft pluck produced something barely recognizable, an almost dead sound, which drifted in the air for a moment, only seeming to increase the emptiness of the room, before it was caught in the cool draft and swept out the window, hollow. Each note sounded off, odd, following the last in slow, yet timed trains; fourteen beats, in two-four time, four quarter notes, the a dotted quarter note and an eighth, then six quarter notes again, and finally, a half-note. The last was always followed by a carefully counted quarter-rest, when the silence seemed louder then the vanishing sound of the whispering acoustic guitar.

It was night already. The skies were empty, without stars - there was no trace of clouds. If they were up there, projected onto the dome that was supposed to be City 7’s heavens, they were too black and dreary to make out. It was not raining yet, although he suspected that it would any time soon, for the frigid draughts of air that wisped around his body, perched in the window frame, brought with them the damp feel of water.

He did not seem to feel, or even realize, the weight of the guitar strings on the tips of his fingers as he continued to play. If any of the notes called for pressure in a different fret, his left wrist skimmed along the neck of the guitar to find the right place, without a thought directed at the action.

The tune continued, unending, unchanging, as his dull eyes fell shut, and his head leaned back against the windowpane, letting nothing penetrate him, either inside or out. No thoughts, no feelings, no memories... only the echoing still and silence that dared absorb him during each rest.

~

“Mou!” His guitar dropped back into its stand, it’s sour sound still seeping into the air like a dangerous toxin. Footsteps snatched at the emptiness, dragging themselves away from all the noise and all the confusion, but one nagging voice kept him from exiting the door, try as he might. “Ne, Basara! We still have to practice!”

One pair of fingers lightly closed around the doorknob, the others being shoved into a pocket with a shrug of his shoulders. “... I don’t feel like it,” was his response, and he turned the metal underneath his palm; it resisted, and he put more force, until it clicked and swung open. It was too hard...

“Basara,” she exclaimed as he slipped between the door and the opening it had provided, “it doesn’t matter if you don’t feel like it!! We have a gig coming up, and we need to practice! You can’t even sing-“

The door shut again, silently, slowly, and it cut Mylene off even before Ray had the chance to do so.

“Leave him,” the older one to her side said simply, and she made a frustrated sound and began to argue; Basara heard this, from down the hall, as he sauntered down the steps of the apartment.

~

For a single moment, he opened his mouth, the music starting again from it’s pause; maybe, to exhale a long-held breath, maybe to sigh, maybe to sing. Whatever it was, nothing escaped, and he closed his lips again and dropped his chin to his chest. The guitar continued, voicing its opinion to him when he needed it most.

Nothing had changed; the sky was still a lonely black void of nothingness. It was a terrible thing to look at. So, he wouldn’t look.

Long ago having turned off the roaring engine of her motorcycle, Rex took a moment on the road to set the kickstand and fumble with the strap on her helmet. When it was loosened, she shook her head once, freeing the blond hair that had been trapped underneath it, and then set the dark orb on the seat of the bike.

It was getting really cold...

Akusho was such a silent, empty place, and all around were broken buildings, reminiscent of some old battle that had passed as quickly and unbeknownst as a simple stranger on the street, but that had destroyed everything as it moved along it’s way, unaware of the damage it was wreaking.

This place gave her the chills... why did Basara choose to live here?

Her foot knocked the kickstand up, and taking her handlebars in her fingers, Rex continued to wheel the bike towards the only standing apartment that she knew was there somewhere, the fire-red giant asleep at the side of the building her only clue as to where it lay, blurred in the darkness.

Although she was sure that her trusted motorcycle could outrun anything lurking in the dark at the edge of her vision, it still left her feeling uneasy, and Rex was not easily spooked. The appearance of those vampires made her extra wary, watching every odd shape and angle that morphed into some unfriendly visage. In her mind’s eye, a simple mound of rumble seemed to move, causing her to catch her breath and stop dead in her tracks.

Everything sensible in her body told her, that it was just a chuck of rock, and nothing more, surely not the proper size of anything human-like, and not big enough to hide anything behind it... but, even so, her heart pumped faster, and she soon felt her feet pounding against the road, the front wheel of her motorcycle swerving and dragging her into the bone-chilling darkness.

Her breath was hot and painful in her throat as finally, she slowed to a stop. Here, under the protective shadow of his red valkyrie, where they had sat and he had spoke to her, about how to control the thrust, how to level the throttle, how to change forms from the Battroid to the Gerwalk... here, she was safe. The emotionless face up above her did not change as she caught her breath, subduing the dizziness in her head by resting a hand against it’s foot and doubling over.

Finally, when her heart had settled, she picked her bike up off the ground and set it to the side, in the deep shadow between the Goliath’s heels, and cast her eyes up the side of the apartment building.

She couldn’t hear anything... he must be waiting.

~

The door burst open, without any sort of a knock.

“Basara!”

His eyes pressed shut, and he instinctually rolled onto his side. The futon creaked as he moved, and soon, she was stomping up the ladder. The floor shook with her fury as she gained her balance, but not a step closer did she venture.

“Basara!” She repeated his name again, this time, louder and sharper, and obviously saw him flinch. “I know you’re awake! Don’t try to fake snore, either!”

He did not speak, though, so, to make him aware of her boiling temper, she slammed her foot against the floor, again, as if doing so would draw him out of his silence.

“Fire Bomber is not your band!”

He did not respond; last time she had said that, he had retorted, “then what is it?”

That had been easier to answer then his silence.

“I work hard to get us some high-paying gigs, driving all over town, just so you can actually have some money to spend, and then you won’t even practice!”

Still, no response.

He heard her make another frustrated growl that barely escaped her lips, before she turned away and crashed back down the ladder.

“Fire Bomber is not your band,” she repeated, this time quietly, with even more venom coursing off her tongue, before slamming the door.

He lay, muted and motionless on his side, face to the wall, until he was sure she was gone; and, even then, he did not move.

~

“Oi... Basara,” Rex voiced quietly, knocking on the door. Although she knew it was always open, and although she had never been one to wait for permission to enter, for him, she was always afraid of interrupting something, ruining something... even though she never knew what.

But, this time, there was no response, and her curiosity got the best of her; her hand clamped down over the doorknob and turned it slowly.

“Basara...?”

Without a doubt, he was here. Maybe it was because of the fact that, whenever he was near, whether she knew it or not, her heart raced just a bi; or, maybe it was because of the indefinable quality of the air, the feeling that here, sound always ruled; only the presence of a conscious being to stop that noise, could make it as eerily silent as it was.

She remained the doorway for a moment, before stepping in and letting it click behind her. The noise made her jump, and she stepped away from it, suddenly finding herself at the foot of the ladder.

Each rung creaked loudly, and she cringed once, stopping to let the silence wash the ugly groan away. When her head levelled with the floor, Rex looked about to locate where he was; it took her a while. The upper level of his apartment was darker then usual, and it was hard to pick out his lanky form, draped in the square of an open window, left leg crossed under the other that was propped up on the pane opposite the one his back rested on. She could see that, cradled against his chest, was his acoustic guitar. Her eyes scanned over his outline; his hair, same as always, never different; the same clothes, green, loose muscle shirt that bared his strong arms, and jagged, torn jeans with a slit in the left knee and a red bandana tied high up on his right thigh. The only things missing from his usual ensemble were the shoes and socks, but considering he was in his own home, it did not surprise her... he was not wearing his glasses, too, she noted.

Why was he sitting in the window...? Rex shivered once, then climbed up the remnants of the ladder; it was cold... he would get sick.

“Yo, Basara,” she stood, watching him.

He did not respond, but, from this vantage point, she could see his fingers moving silently on the strings of his guitar; it made no audible sound.

“Basara,” she repeated, leaning forward from her hips a bit to squint at him through the darkness; this time, he startled, blinking widely and turning his head to her. For a moment, she thought his eyes flickered in the gloom, from a dull, weak gold, to a shine that could have illuminated the room; but, it was only her imagination, for when she looked again, they were just the same as when he had turned his head away from the night.

Rex frowned; he did not look well...

“... yo, Rex,” he replied, smiling.

“I hope you don’t mind, I just walked in without-“

“Nope,” he interrupted, passive, before turning his head back out the window. His fingers had stopped moving.

An uncomfortable silence fell over Rex, as she stepped towards him and stopped again, standing with her hands on her hips no more then a foot or so away from the window. Her heart was beating faster, just like it always did.

How does he do this to me...?

“Ne, Basara... you’re going to get sick. It’s cold.”

“... iie,” was all he said.

“If it rains, you’ll get wet,” she continued.

Pause, then, “I like the rain.”

“You don’t like being sick,” she told him.

He was silent, and gave her nothing to argue with him about; so, she stood, looking out into the sky.

“There aren’t any stars,” he said quietly, and it shook her out of her daydream; Rex focused down on his compact figure, and then sat down on the floor.

“Are we going to go out in the Valkyrie?” She asked, almost like an eager child.

“... iie,” he repeated, and her spirits sank.

“Oh...” Rex tried not to sound too disappointed, but it was hard, and without her approval, a sigh escaped her lips. Then, she looked up again, when something that wasn’t physical, but could have been, brushed along her ear... music.

She hadn’t heard him play anything that sounded like this before, so she focused on it intently; it was very different then what he normally played, and was almost impossible to make out, it was so soft and silent.

“Basara,” she whispered too strongly, and his fingers stopped again. She swallowed a bit when his head turned to look down at her, those soft golden eyes focusing on her face, boring into her own pupils, unknowing of the torment he wreaked in her soul each time he glanced at her...

“Nani?”

“Nande mo nai,” she quickly replied, but he did not turn away like he had last time; he blinked, once, at her, before putting on a smile again.

She wondered, for a moment, why he was so quiet, before seeing his face finally turn away; she let out a quiet breath that she hadn’t known she had been holding, and then stood.

At first, when she rose, she had wanted to say, “I guess I’ll go home, then”, but instead, something forced her eyes down, to where the bottom of the window was. It was a wide enough ledge...

Basara was jolted when, suddenly, Rex pushed his shoulder enough to make him slide along the windowpane, closer to the edge. “O-oi! Rex!” For a moment, his first reaction to stay away from the edge kicked in, and he flailed a hand out to grab onto something. Much to both their surprise, it landed on her thigh, where she had sat down beside him. His fingers tightened once, before he pulled his hand away.

Her eyes were frozen on the spot where he had touched her; the warmth of his hand still seeped into her skin through the tight biking suit she always wore. Without thinking, she let her head fall to the side a bit, and Basara straightened his back as it sunk onto his shoulder. She reached over and took the neck of his guitar in her hand, and pulled it over towards herself, letting the hollow body rest in between them.

“Teach me,” she said quietly, and he looked down at her for a moment, before nodding. He floundered for a moment, not sure on how to proceed, before, slowly, he placed his left arm around her shoulder, and found her hand; he picked up her wrist, and placed it on the correct fret, laying his fingers right over hers, to guide them.

Rex shut her eyes; what am I doing?!

When he pressed down on her fingers, she obeyed and placed them where he wanted; then, quietly, his right hand strummed on the strings.

... what am I doing?

Her fingers began to move faster to keep up with his, and when his voice joined in, quiet and controlled, so close to her, Rex shivered.

“Omae ga... kaze ni naru nara...

Hateshinai sora ni naritai...”

Her head nuzzled a bit into his shoulder, and he felt her nose brush against his throat.

“Hageshii ame oto ni tachi sukumu toki wa...”

He could feel her breath against his skin, as she mouthed the words to herself...

“Guitar o kaki narashi kokoro o shitsume you...”

He almost got to the chorus, but when he paused, Rex had found the courage to sit up a bit, and incline her head so she could press her lips against the corners of his. Her hand pulled out from under his, and wrapped around his shoulder.

... what am I doing...?

The way she was twisted, with her chest against his side and her shoulders straight, made him lean into her because his hand was still holding the neck of his guitar. They sat there, for a moment, like that, until he felt his head turn towards hers, and she moved into him. The guitar began to slip from his grasp, and Basara leaned further forward to catch it; but, instead, Rex lost her balance, as her other arm snaked down around to the small of his back. The guitar fell to the floor of the apartment and skittered away when the two of them fell off of the windowsill, and Rex felt his chest crush against hers as his hands shot out to brace his fall.

He raised his body, trying to pull his face away, maybe to say something, to stop what they were doing, but Rex pressed her lips harder against his, and gave him no option but to return the action, or to forcefully push her away; for a moment, she thought he would do just that, and reject her, for his muscles tensed and he lifted himself up, but she whispered his name quietly against his lips, begging him to stay with her, and after a moment, he fell back down, one of his hands moving from the floor to clutch at her shoulder.

Just for a while... he would be hers...

~

“Mou!” Mylene cried, storming back into the room and grabbing her guitar out of its case.

A voice came from behind her. “You should just leave him...”

She wheeled around on Ray, green eyes blazing. “He can’t just leave like that! We have to practice!”

“Mylene,” Ray tried to calm her, “just leave him alone, he’s-“

“I don’t care! We need to practice!”

Suddenly, from behind them, the silent giant spoke up. It was not with a clang of a symbol, or a hit to the snare - Veffidas opened her mouth before Ray could, and although Mylene looked about ready to strangle anyone and everyone, she dared not interrupt.

“Basara can’t sing right now,” she said simply.

“Why not?!” Mylene argued, letting her bass guitar hang limp at her stomach.

“Because he cannot sing from his heart.”

Ray watched as the young woman’s shoulders sunk a bit, her anger vanishing.

“... why not?” She repeated, this time, quieter, and Zeffidas looked away, bouncing a drumstick on the rim of her high tom.

“... because, his heart is busy.”

There was silence in the room, except for the gentle beat that Veffidas provided, until Ray spoke up.

“Well, I guess practice is over... I have some things to take care of, anyway.”

“Ne, Ray, where are you going?” Mylene asked, and Ray waved after putting down his instrument and stepping out the door.

“Stay and play with Veffidas, if you want,” he called down the hall.

Veffidas suddenly began to pound out her entrance from “Planet Dance”, but Mylene no longer felt like practicing. As the former continued on, the bass guitar was lowered into its case.

“Sayonara, Veffidas... I’m going to go home.”

Veffidas stopped, the snare rattling with the last punch she had delivered, and nodded; as Mylene moved out the door, the drum set started to sound again.

~

Rex, content, yawned and silent rolled over onto her opposite side. A soft smile spread across her lips as she saw him, through the cold dark.

His back was to her, and for a moment, she watched his side rise and fall in a cycle of nine seconds, over and over again; then, she scooted closer, and lay one arm around his waist, pressing her face into the warmth of his neck.

How peaceful he was...

Rex closed her eyes again, and chuckled to herself. She had always thought that he would sleep like this; on his side, face to the wall, for some reason...

There was silence for a long time, and Rex was happy, just breathing in his scent; when she heard the first gentle sounds of rain, she fretted, not wanting to ride home in on wet roads, before reminding herself that there was no reason she couldn’t just spend the night. She calmed, again, and gently kissed bare skin in the middle of his shoulders.

“Ne, Basara,” she said quietly, so as not to wake him up, and started to sing to him, his own song; but, another voice seeped in, and she paused to listen to it.

He was murmuring something in his sleep... she smiled widely, eyes narrowing in happiness, and lifted her head to hear whatever he was saying.

His voice trailed off, slurred and incoherent, but she had heard enough.

Rex stayed, propped up on one elbow, beside him for a long while, watching him carefully. Her smile had faded, and she looked puzzled.

Then, her eyes widened just a bit, as she understood, and she slowly lowered herself back down, against him, burying her face into his neck.

She had, of course, known it all along...

... but... it still hurt...

More then fifteen minutes passed, before she sighed quietly and rolled back onto her other side, swinging her legs out onto the floor. As quietly as she could, she gathered her things and dressed herself; it would be raining hard, soon, and it would be best to get home as quick as possible. It was already one o’clock...

Brushing her hair out of her eyes, Rex eyed his shoulder; then, kneeled on the bed and kissed his cheek lightly.

At least he had been hers, for however short their time had been. At least, she knew that. He had been hers.

She smiled softly, and pulled the extra blanket over him, for the room was cold; then, she made her way over to the window, and pulled the shutters on either side together, seeing the first few drops of water streak down the glass.

His guitar was placed, carefully, down on top of a few loose sheets of paper, and although she felt the need to pluck each string, just to keep the moment in her mind, Rex did not; if she woke him, it would be even harder to leave.

“Oyasumi nasai, Basara,” she whispered as she slipped out into the hall, and shut the door quietly.

Her bike felt cold under her fingers, and she used one wrist to clean the visor of her helmet. Afraid the sound of her engine would wake him, Rex wheeled the bike away from the apartment building, until a crash of thunder gave her enough time to rev the motor and jump on.

He had been hers, just for a while... she smiled. At least she had that.

~

Ray had told her, earlier that day, that Veffidas and him were going to visit an old friend, who lived on a planet nearby. They had needed to catch the transport ship, and the last left at seven, so if she had wanted to practice, she would have to do it herself. They wouldn’t be home for two nights.

Then, why did she find herself driving to Akusho, anyways?

In her closet, she had found the tsumugi. It was supposed to calm the hearts of the people she wore it around...

It was getting soaked as the rain started to beat fiercely; it was now that she wished she had asked for a roof on the stupid car, when her mother had given it too her.

The rain pounded down, and it was late... really late. Gubaba had been asleep when she woke, so she had left it there, peaceful and calm; the time, then, had been one thirty. Now, it was quarter past two, and it would take another fifteen minutes of driving through the rain to get into Akusho. Using one hand to drive and one hand to rub a weary eye, she shook the rain off of her shoulders and contemplated on speeding up, and risking her safety to get out of the rain, or slowing down, and being careful.

Well, she couldn’t get anymore drenched then she already was...

Her foot eased off of the accelerator, and she watched her speed go down from 80 kilometres an hour to 60.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t fall asleep at the wheel...

There was a hidden parking space, that she had found on one of her first visits here; it was a tiny niche, and a door at the side of it lead into the bottom-most level of one of the only standing buildings left in Akusho. Up four three flights of stairs, and she was as the door to Ray’s apartment.

It had taken her longer then she had expected; it was almost two thirty. Veffidas would not have minded if she fell asleep on her bed... she didn’t even have to know, although she probably would...

Ray’s door was open, and she stepped inside quietly. She was cold, and her kimono was soaked. Finding the bathroom, she undressed, and ruffled her hair with a towel, until it was not dripping with rainwater; then, she moved back into the main room, and found where the kitchen was. She pondered for a moment, wondering if she would scorch it or make it catch on fire by placing the delicate tsumugi in the microwave for just a moment; but, then, she shook her head. If it did catch fire, or scorch, both Ray and Gamlin would have hell to give her. Right now, she was grateful that she’d thought to wear a pair of gym shorts underneath, and she knew from experience that those would not burn easily, so she threw only them into the microwave, and set it for half a minute. At least those would be warm, if not completely dry.

But, she didn’t have anything to wear as a top...

Luckily enough, she found a note on the fridge, which read, “Basara - Fold your laundry while we’re gone, or else you’ll run out of shirts. The basket is on the couch. - Ray”.

She chuckled a bit, and before checking out the laundry basket, put the kettle on high, to make some tea. Then, she moved to where the couch was; a flash of lightning helped her, although she jumped a bit. On the other side of the couch was a small table, and on it sat a lamp: she flicked it on, and was thankful for the warm light.

Veffidas’ and Ray’s clothes would be much too big for her... but, his...

“Mou,” she said quietly, almost laughing when she found his summer clothes in the basket. It was only funny because they had visited the Riviera months ago; he must have been late getting his dirty belongings to Ray.

Well, at least they were clean... she slipped the hooded t-shirt over her bare torso, and then went back over to the microwave. Her shorts were not completely dry, but almost were; she used the same towel that she’d used to dry her hair to draw the last of the water out of them, and then she stepped back into them and sighed.

What about the kimono...

It would have been nice to wear it... although she didn’t know why.

Or, she didn’t admit why.

She left it on the couch, wrapping it with the towel so the water would not ruin the cushions. Then, she stood in front of the laundry basket, before nodding to herself; she had rummaged through their things, and had even took something; the least she could do, was to fold the laundry for him.

She only paused when she came upon undergarments that were obviously not Veffidas’; it was an odd situation, and she felt her cheeks flush, before she spotted in black magic-marker and in Ray’s careful printing, “Basara”. Then, she laughed, loudly, and it no longer was an issue. She threw the underwear onto his pile, thinking that Ray had probably had to do that, so Basara would know what belonged to whom.

The kettle whistled when she was almost done, and she jumped, before skittering off to silence it. Rain was still falling outside, although it was now substantially less, and the distant rumble of thunder was more calming then unsettling.

She found two cups, instead of just one, and waited while the tea steeped. It was ready in a few minutes, and she held the two cups in one hand as she turned the light in the living room off.

One last check at the glowing numbers on the microwave told her it was 2:45 AM, before she slipped out of Ray’s apartment.

Across the hall, she carefully opened a different door, cradling the cups of tea against her breast, enjoying the warmth. It was very dark, but even with that trying to blind her, the whole in the ceiling was visible. Off to her right were a few appliances... a stove, a fridge, a microwave. Another doorway that she knew was tucked behind a large crate to her left was the bathroom. Just a bit to the right of that was a ladder, leading up to the second story of the apartment.

Why was she here? There was nothing to talk to him about - and, even if there was, it was almost three in the morning! He wouldn’t be awake!

Even so, she moved silently to the other side of the apartment. The first rung of the ladder felt strong under her feet, but she remembered how, the second time she had attempted to climb up it, she had lost her balance and almost fell. If he hadn’t been there to catch her... she was very careful, taking each step slowly and making sure that she had one hand tightly wrapped around the side of the ladder. The tea was steaming, and she could feel the warm dampness on the bottom of her chin.

There were two windows she could see as she made her way to the top level of the room; now, the rain was almost completely gone, and the skies had cleared. She could hear the distinct drip, drip, drip of water as it fell from the eves, and the moon hung overhead, looking brighter then normal. It cast a cool glow through the room, so thankfully, she could see where his guitar lay, and where his bed was...

She blinked, and peered through the darkness. He was... lying on his side... face to the wall.

... he never slept like that...

She was just assuming, of course! There had been many times where she had woken him up before, either in his own apartment when he had been late for rehearsal, or when he had fallen asleep on their van, and taken up the whole back seat. He always lay on his back, with his arms spread out wildly, although sometimes his right hand would move from it’s crooked place beside his head, and his wrist and hand would obscure his eyes, or other times, it would slip under his hair...

Her head turned. There were papers under the guitar, she noticed... and they did not look at all familiar.

She carefully made her way to the acoustic guitar, and then sat on her knees. The tea was placed on a cinderblock that he had most likely used to sit on. She sat the guitar in her lap, and then picked up a paper; at the top, she made out his scraggly handwriting. It took her a moment to decode it.

“... Spiral Answer...?”

Settling herself, she squinted at the insanely messy piece of music; she would never understand this...

But, that did look somewhat like...

Her fingers moved on the guitar, forgetting where she was, and she began to play what was written.

What an odd tune...

“... ‘what’s my love’...?”

... cold...

That was the first thing he noticed. It was cold.

It took him a while to gain control of his body; slowly, he opened his eyes, and saw the wall in front of him.

... Rex...

He swallowed a bit.

Damn it... that had been a really stupid thing to do. He had tried to stop, too... but... it was too hard... and God only knew how confused he was, considering he would not admit it too anyone.

Rex just wore down his defences... he shouldn’t have left himself open, like that. It had been a bad enough day; he already felt bad enough, with... her yelling at him... he couldn’t have sung, even if he had tried. It just wasn’t there... his heart wasn’t in it at all... and then, Rex... he hadn’t even remembered that Rex said she was going to drop by to learn about the Valkyrie...

Rex had broken him down...

Oh, God, how sick he felt right now...

He had been thinking too much to hear anything, but when he tried to calm his stomach by calming his mind, he noticed the sound reverberating in the air.

And, that the spot beside him was empty.

Slowly, he pushed himself up, and peered through the darkness with his half-lidded eyes, dull. Rex was there, with his guitar...

He almost called out, but his voice was hoarse, and only a scratchy sound came out.

That’s when the person with his guitar turned in acknowledgement; his eyes widened in shock, and then he blinked.

She heard something come from the other side of the room, and her fingers stopped and smothered the sound from the guitar’s strings.

When she turned, he was sitting up, blinking at her, with those bright golden eyes of his. For a moment, there was silence, until he stammered her name.

“My-Mylene...?”

She looked back at him, blinking with him, before her eyes fell down from his face and to where the heavy blanket had fallen to his waist. He looked down with her, realizing that his chest was bare, and that the only thing that kept her from knowing that the rest of him was just as nude as his chest, was the blanket.

To pull it up would attract her attention, so, instead, he left it there, and turned his head to the side. Down, on the first floor, he could see a red glow; the clock on some appliance, he forgot which. It was a considerable distance, and it took him a few seconds to figure out the time.

“It’s almost three in the morning,” Basara said, and he looked back at her; Mylene felt her cheeks flush, although she knew that he would not be able to see it in the dark that surrounded them.

“Go-gomen nasai!! I just...”

“... you just, what?”

“... I brought you some tea!”

Basara blinked at her; tea? That didn’t explain why she was in his apartment, at three in the morning!

But, he did not say anything; she remained, rooted to the floor, still holding his guitar.

“... well?”

“Oh, hai, gomen,” she repeated, before turning her back to him. She quickly slipped the guitar’s strap around her neck, and then picked up the two teacups, which had stopped steaming and were now cooling down at a rapid rate.

Then, she rose herself off her knees, and slowly walked over to his bed; he watched her, almost curiously, never letting his eyes move from hers, until Mylene handed him a cup and sat on the floor, back to him.

Quickly, he hiked the blanket up to his armpits, and only then did he try to relax.

She was still holding his guitar... what did she plan to do with it...?

“Why aren’t you at home?” He asked quietly, turning his gaze away from the top of her head, hoping his voice wouldn’t crack.

“I... was driving around... thinking...” That was a lie, although she had been thinking. “... and then it started to rain, and I was closer to Akusho then I was to my apartment, so I came here.”

It sounded like a decent explanation... “Why were you driving around at three in the morning?”

“I thought you didn’t like to go into people’s personal affairs,” Mylene snapped; Basara fell silent behind her. She quickly regretted the last statement, and wished that she hadn’t said it so roughly... she had only meant it as a joke...

“... this tea is cold,” he informed her quietly, sinking back onto the pillow.

“Mou! Next time, I just won’t bring you any,” she retorted, before gulping her own down; it wasn’t cold!! Of course, it wasn’t hot, either...

Basara turned his eyes to her shoulder once more. Why was she here...? He would have thought that she wouldn’t want to be anywhere near him, considering that last rehearsal...

He blinked, and noticed something else. “... why are you wearing my shirt?”

Mylene looked down, and blushed further. “... my clothes got wet when I got caught in the rain, and there was a basket of laundry on Ray’s couch, so I borrowed it.” There was a pause, and then, “you should be grateful. I folded all the laundry for you.” He did not thank her, and she glared intensely at the floor.

Basara thought for a moment... she folded the laundry... his underwear had been in that load... and, oh, God, Ray had insisted on writing his name all over it after he had messed up in sorting it last time... he couldn’t believe this was happening...

When he reached over her shoulder to put the empty cup down on the table, she startled, but said nothing; they were both silent for a very long time.

The anger from his lack of gratitude wore off, and she was left... what was she feeling? There was something... was it... concern...?

He did not want to look at her, because if he did, she would turn around and catch him staring; his embarrassment just kept building up...

Basara shrunk down into the mattress, on his back, and closed his eyes.

“... ne... Basara...”

“... nani...?”

She gently began to strum the guitar, in a tune he knew all too well; he opened his eyes a bit, and looked at her, side-longed, finding himself entranced at how she could make such a deep, throaty sound on his simple guitar.

“... what’s a spiral answer...?”

... she had read the music...

Basara turned his head away, and looked up at a ceiling.

“Spiral answer...”

“... hai... what is it?”

He sighed quietly, and placed his right arm under his head. His left sprawled out towards her, and his fingers drew away sharply when they brushed against the back of her head, and her hair.

“... a spiral answer is a question... who’s answer, only brings you back to the same question... over, and over, and over again.”

Mylene turned her head down, before nodding a bit. “... oh...” He sounded so quiet... so... weak...

“Ne, Basara...”

“... nani?” He replied again, with a sigh.

“... what’s your spiral answer?”

This question caught him off guard, and his chest tightened... what could he say? Nothing, he couldn’t respond with the truth, that was for sure...

“None of your business,” he said, albeit weakly, leaving himself open to be interrogated further.

But, she was silent, and he inwardly screamed at himself.

His spiral answer... she kept playing that refrain, over and over again... his spiral answer...

... was her.

“Why do I have to feel this way about her?!” He cried in his head, for the one-hundredth time...

... and the same answer came, no different then the first ninety-nine times.

Because... you love her.

Basara cringed and shook his head a bit. That couldn’t be it, it wasn’t possible - there had to be another answer.

“Why do I feel this way about her...?” He asked himself again, feeling his heart fail at “her”...

Because you love her.

“Why do I feel this way about her?”

Because, the voice inside his head sighed in impatience, you love her. The words were long and spaced, to stamp their meaning on his brain, so he would stop asking himself the same question. It’s as simple as that, and you might as well accept it. There’s nothing you can do about it. Or, at least admit that you care about her. I mean, look at her; besides the fact that you know she’s cute, and she does that little thing when she gets angry, you know, a half-frown, half-pout, and her forehead wrinkles just a tiny bit...

Basara closed his mind away, shutting it up inside him. God, why now...? Why couldn’t she just leave him alone... he was confused enough as it was...

“... Basara...” Mylene said quietly, and felt the bed shake behind her with his movement.

“What is it now?”

She stopped, hearing the note in his voice that meant he was getting angry; but, quietly, she gathered her feelings and continued.

“I... think I understand...”

“... understand what?” He asked, moving his right hand from under his head to over his eyes. This was too much...

“I think I understand what a spiral answer is...”

Basara narrowed his open eyes under the darkness of his arm; she sounded different, now, her voice was wavering... like she was about to... cry...

His left arm lay open, still, and suddenly, there was a weight against it. Beside his chest, Mylene placed herself, head on his shoulder, and then her left arm crossed over his stomach.

Basara blinked widely, and lifted his hand up to look at her. She laid her face against his bare shoulder, and his body grew tense.

She was so warm...

“... Mylene...” He said quietly; it was more of a question, although she heard a hint of warning in it.

“I think... that I have a spiral answer, too...” She murmured, and the arm on his stomach tightened, her fingers squeezing a handful of his blanket at the bottom of his ribcage. He was silent, and when she spoke again, her voice shook.

“I keep asking myself... why mom and dad... don’t love each other anymore... but, the answer is always, just, ‘because they don’t’... but that’s can’t be the answer, because love doesn’t work like that, right...? Love... love is supposed to... it’s supposed to...”

Basara watched her from under his hand, and saw her tears squeeze through her clenched eyes; they started to roll down her cheeks, and landed on his shoulder.

“Love is supposed to be forever!” She angrily stated, and felt anger towards her mother and father welling up inside of her, enough to make her scream, and-

One hand covered hers and squeezed her fist, and another wrapped around her back and held her shoulder comfortingly. Mylene swallowed, before opening her eyes and looking at him, her brow furrowed and her bottom lip quivering.

“Oi... it’s okay,” he said softly, and she tried to bite back the tears, but it did not work, and she sobbed a bit; his hand moved from over her now-relaxed fist, and he smudged her tears with his thumb. “It’s okay.”

“Gomen nasai,” she choked, and wondered what had spirited her to lie alongside him; whatever it was, it had left her, and now she felt embarrassed and worried.

“Don’t be sorry,” he replied, before looking over her. “Give me my guitar.”

She blinked, before removing her hand from across his stomach, and picking up the guitar where she had left it on the floor; then, she handed it to him.

Basara cushioned the wooden body on his stomach, where her arm had been, and held the neck of it with the hand that perched on her shoulder.

“That song...” He said quietly, strumming the strings and then adjusting the tautness of two wires, “... the one you looked at... it wasn’t finished.”

She nodded a bit, swallowed down her tears. “... yeah...”

“Help me finish it,” he said simply, and she blinked, before forcing a smile and nodding.

The tune she had been playing earlier started again, and quietly, he began to sing.

What’s my love?

Dou sureba ii

Why is it

Daremo ga kokoro tozashita mama de

Everyone closes their hearts

Konna ni utsukushii niji wo

To this sort of beautiful rainbow?

Ore ni shika misenai nante

Surely it’s not only lit up in me...

Babe, Please listen to my song

Naze me wo akete kurenai

Why won't you open your eyes to me?

The guitar continued, but his voice trailed off; and, much to his surprise, she started where there were no lyrics at all, her quiet voice muffled as it bounced off of his skin.

What’s my pain?

Uso ja nai sa

It's not a lie

Shiawase wa soko ni aru noni

There can be happiness here

Yobi-au “Maybe That's Spiral-Answer"

Calling out, "Maybe That's Spiral Answer"

Datta hitori de yume wo miru no ka

If you can see it in a dream by yourself

Babe, Please Listen to my song

Naze kotaete wa kurenai

Why won't you answer me?

Babe, Please Listen to my song

Niji wo misetai omae ni

I want to light up the rainbow in you

The last verse, Basara sung, the words fresh in his mind, as if inspiration has struck him as soon as she was silent.

The tune had changed, somewhere in the middle; now, it slowed to a stop, and his fingers stopped on the chords, his eyes looking up at the ceiling.

“Why do I feel this way about her...?”

You dolt! Because, you love her.

And that was good enough, for now.

“... Mylene...” He ventured to speak, still staring at the ceiling...

She did not respond, and he turned his head down to her; against his chest, she slept, silent and still, one hand lying halfway under her nose, her fingers curled on his shoulder.

Boy, would Gamlin sure kill him if he saw this...

Basara smiled a bit, and then levered the guitar over her shoulder and onto the floor where it thumped, made a tiny sound of thanks, and then did what anyone sensible would do at this unearthly time. It slept.

It was cold in the room, and she would freeze. Pulling the extra blanket out from under her, Basara then draped it over her chin, and watched her for a moment with radiant gold eyes, before yawning loudly and letting his left arm flop down onto the bed. His right arm, once again, fell onto his eyes; and, soon, they both were asleep, peaceful and content.

The next morning, of course... now that was a different story, Basara thought and laughed, as she almost fell down the ladder crying obscenities in his direction.

“Hentai! What’s so funny!?” Mylene hollered, stomping her feet off towards the door.

“YOU!” He replied, and started laughing even harder as she screamed in aggravation and turned around to look up at him, ready to curse him with all the swear words she knew, and more.

She stopped, though, when she saw that he had tears in his eyes he was laughing so hard, doubled over on the bed; then, she started to laugh, too, just a bit, until they were both breathless.

“Why am I doing this...?”

Because... it makes him happy.