Stuck in the Shallows / KH

IV. Love

For hours after Dyme ran off, Manami combed the darkening evening streets for him. She searched, in fact, until the full moon hung high in the sky and every shop in Central Square was closed.

Where did he go? Why did he leave in such a hurry?

Something in her gut told her that everything was not alright. But what was she supposed to do when she couldn't find him? She could put off her search until morning when, hopefully, he would show up with a solid explanation as to his disappearance.

The more abandoned the streets became, the better those prospects were beginning to look. It was only when she felt her eyes growing heavy and her muscles weary that she was forced- much to her regret- to turn make her way back home.

Trekking her way up the walkway towards the front doorstep, she knew she must have looked as pitiful as a stray puppy. She certainly felt as pitiful as one. And it definitely didn't help when, as soon as she stepped foot onto the patio, the front door swung open to a fuming mad Izanami.

"Manami. Where have you been?" demanded the olive-skinned older lady, her voice pouring like corrosive acid from her lips. "You had one hour. One hour! Do you really think you can ever become a master when you go off on whims like that? And for what? To hang out with that- that indolent Dyme character, I'm sure?!"

Her words rolled off of Manami like water from duck feathers. With a roll of her eyes, she stepped around Izanami and into the lamp-lit house.

"Young lady, don't you dare roll your eyes at me. This is my house, and as long as you're living here, you will follow my rules."

Manami tried, she really did, to just keep plodding up the stairs, but when Izanami commanded her to stop and turn around, she could take it no longer.

With an infuriated noise rising up from the very core of her being, she whipped around and summoned her keyblade into one hand; the other hand clenched into a fist.

"Shut up, already!" She stomped down two stairs, but dared not get any closer to her aunt, who looked at her now as if she had grown an extra head. Holding her keyblade out in front of her, just enough to make it known that she meant business, Manami continued.

"I'm tired of having to fight you all the time! I don't want to become a master. I don't want to have to spend all day training like my life depends on it!" Her voice grew louder and more agitated with every syllable.

"And I'm nineteen, Aunt Izanami! Nineteen! Stop talking to me like I'm still a child! I can choose my own friends and make my own decisions. Dyme is a hundred times more understanding than you've ever been. He listens. And sympathizes! And you know what? I love him! And that's one thing you will never be able to control."

Izanami opened up her pale pink lips as though to speak, but was inevitably left without a word to say. While she was still running on the adrenaline of her outburst, Manami whirled around and sprinted up the stairs to her room, making sure to slam the door behind her.

She couldn't believe she had just done that, said the words that she had said. Her cheeks were flushed with passion and rage and her heart pounded like never before. 

And you know what? I love him! And that's one thing you will never be able to control!

Her own words filled an echo chamber in her head. She loved him...

Boy, was that going to make things complicated. 

But now that it was out there, in the open, she knew in her heart of hearts that it was true. She had suppressed the knowledge of her feelings for Dyme for too long; to Hell with waiting - it was all or nothing. She needed to tell him. 

That is, assuming he showed up tomorrow. 

Tomorrow. 

Would she still have a place to stay tomorrow? Or would her aunt kick her to the curb? 

Wandering over to her bed, suddenly weak in the legs, she sunk down into her plush comforter and turned so that she was facing her window. 

Outside, "the city of light," as Radiant Garden was often called, was dark. She thought about Dyme, of his meticulously styled, sandy brown hair and that goofy smile of his... And she hoped he had made it home alright. 

As her heart rate slowed and her blood pressure returned to normal, her body was reminded again of just how tired it really was. Tonight, she didn't try to fight the sleep. She let it wrap around her like the arms of an old friend. 

The last image in her head as she dozed off was that of Dyme, sitar in his hand, and a tranquil smile upon his face.