“Buy her some flowers, she’d like that. Roses, especially, Ulala loves roses.” Maya’s cheerful voice scarred my tired ears. Maya could be really hard to take at times. “Really, there’s nothing to worry about. Even if she is mad, she’s still in love with you! Be positive!”

I wasn’t in the mood to be positive. Ever.

“I’m not worried. Stop talking.”

That didn’t stop her.

“Not worried? Your hair’s a mess, really. Even so, there’s nothing to worry about, I’m sure she’ll forgive you, for whatever it is you did! She’s so in love with you that all you have to do is call, but then again, she might play hard-to-get and pretend not to even like you. But that’s just how she is. You know that. She’s forgiven you already, probably. She just won’t admit it until you say something. She’s kind of a traditionalist. You probably don’t need to buy anything, but she’d like anything you gave her.” With each sentence, Maya tilted her head in a different, more cheerful direction. She was really a nice person, and had I been in a better mood, I might have been thankful for her input.

But right now, I just couldn’t get Maya to go away.

“I don’t want to make her fall all over me. I’m sick of being told that she loves me.” I picked up a single red rose and examined it closely. Shaking my head, I put it down. This was pointless.

“You must be in love.”

She must have selective hearing and a wild imagination. I picked up another bouquet. This was a waste of time. Why should I get flowers for anyone?

“And how do you figure that?” I asked, not looking up.

“From the way you examine every flower in the bouquet as if it isn’t good enough for her. Or just how you treat her differently than the rest of us. Or how you always fight with her.” Maya winked at me. “Or how you always take care of her before everyone else.”

“As a friend.” I pushed another bouquet aside. Why were florists selling flowers that were practically wilted? Can’t expect much from Sumaru. “What kind of positive world do you live in, Amano?”

“I’ve seen you look at her!” Maya went on as if she hadn’t heard my last comment. “Aw, now you’re blushing!”

I wasn’t.

“Forget it.”

Maya frowned. “Baofu…why do you have to be so difficult?” For the first time all morning, she sounded serious. I glanced over at her. Suddenly, I knew that the solemn Maya would be much worse to deal with. I had seen this look before, but I remained undaunted. I turned away from the flowers and stared down at her.

“I could never be what Serizawa wants,” I stated as bluntly as I could. “Leave me out of the little fantasy world you two live in.” Maya didn’t understand, and Ulala refused to listen.

“How much more are you going to put her through, then?” Maya snapped, getting angrier. “Telling me doesn’t do you any good. Get your head out of your ass and tell her.”

I had never known Maya to be confrontational. Maybe she really was Ulala’s best friend.

Throwing me one last glare, Maya left the shop, colder than I had ever seen her before.

Damn…I knew she was right.

Drunk, again. It seemed like such an empty release now.

Maya didn’t know why I had to apologize, but her words had stung. I had told Ulala that I couldn’t be what she wanted, but no matter how many times I said it, it didn’t change a thing. It didn’t change what she thought, and it didn’t change what I felt.

There were a lot of things that Maya didn’t know.

Ulala and I had made a mistake, and it was my fault that she had the wrong idea about what we had done. She did have the wrong idea, didn’t she?

Ulala wasn’t speaking to me. She had no good reason for it, actually. I was just ignoring a night we barely remembered. So what?

I supposed that I should be on speaking terms with my new “mate,” but that didn’t mean I have to love her. It would have been a good prerequisite, but seeing as my interests were otherwise occupied, it was impossible.

Otherwise occupied? How was it that I took Ulala home, then? What had happened to my steel will? I had common sense, even when drunk. And I wasn’t as drunk as I pretended that I was that night. But neither was Ulala. It was just a lame excuse for both of us.

Was it such a crime? Ulala loved me, she had told me and it was obvious. Miki would understand. I was just fulfilling the desires of a lost woman, making Ulala happy. I wanted to make her happy. I was tired of seeing her depressed.

Was that a form of love? I wanted Miki to be happy, and she ended up dead. I don’t want Ulala dead. Wasn’t that also love?

My real fear was that I wanted to be with Ulala again. I knew exactly what that was.

The experience had brought out something completely new in me. I wanted her close to me constantly, I wanted to protect her. Most of all, I wanted to be with her again…she made me feel safe. Like it was all right to be vulnerable. Though much of the night was blurred, I could remember that feeling of fulfillment as clear as crystal. She gave me a peace, an intoxication that could never be trapped in a bottle. Of course, Miki was an intoxication as well. Did I just want to reawaken what I left with Miki?

No. Ulala was nothing like Miki. Miki had wit and confidence. Miki was bright and realistic. She was an understatement, entirely opposite from Ulala’s extravagance. Ulala had passion…spirit. Even when we fought, she ignited a flame within me. She gave me energy, even strengthened my will. She was just vivacious.

Maybe I should have bought Ulala some flowers. Maya was right, she would pretend to hate them despite truly loving them.

Ulala loved me. She told me so when she was drunk. Miki never told me she loved me, I never said I loved her, it was just our unspoken understanding. Of course, now I wish it had been spoken.

There’s a lot I wish that I had said. Maybe this was my second chance….

Then there was always the off chance that I got Ulala pregnant. I guess she wouldn’t be drinking or smoking and longer. My fault. I’d probably get the beating of my life for both of those things. Hell, Ulala always looked more attractive without the cigarette, in my opinion. She’d still look put together, even when she started showing the pregnancy, I imagined.

She at least deserved a rose.

I never bought flowers for Miki.

Could I father a child? Sure, I could produce one, but could I raise a kid? A kid wouldn’t want a geezer like me for a father. I used to wonder if I’d have children. If Miki and I did spend the rest of our lives together, would we have brought new people into the world? I’ll never know. I wonder what Miki would think: me, a father. I think she wanted children. I think, deep down, Ulala wants children, too, despite the necessary weight gain. Just not yet. Shit.

Maybe I would go farther than speaking terms with her, then. We’d move, ideally. This is not the place to raise a child. I can’t see Ulala and myself in a countryside mansion, though. We could stay in Sumaru if the child could use Personae. Could that be taught? Maya taught Ulala, from what I have been told.

Bitterly, I shook the thoughts from my head. The alcohol was affecting me faster than I thought it would. She wasn’t pregnant. She’d be much, much angrier if she was. I took another swig of bourbon. I must have been totally wasted—I was creating troubles before they even happened. Going for the worst case scenario. With my luck, that was how things usually went, bad to worse.

Was I to old to be a lover to Ulala? Or moreover, was she too young for me? Did I just long for my lost youth and see it in her? I was getting pretty senile. I pretty surprised that a young “spark” like Ulala wanted anything to do with me, then I learned about her history with men. I couldn’t help but smirk at the thought. Then again, there were only seven years between us, and Ulala didn’t seem to mind. She even seemed to like my “crotchety” personality, the crazy little drunk.

I know Miki would not like what I’ve become. I was always cynical, but without her death, I wouldn’t have become so reclusive. All along, I didn’t want to get close to anyone else, because I couldn’t go through it all again…and I thought I would be betraying Miki. But keeping my distance from Ulala was becoming harder every day, and if I lost her like I lost Miki…I groaned. Was I being disloyal to Miki? Dishonoring her death? Without her death, I would never have met Ulala. Both edges cut deep, and I felt guilty.

Not everyone got a second chance…but did another chance constitute betrayal?

This shouldn’t be an issue. I can’t give myself to Ulala because I belong to Miki. Everything I do is for Miki, that’s it. When Miki died, I died.

But…with Ulala…I couldn’t help but feel alive again.

It was the alcohol controlling my thoughts. I knew the truth…Miki wanted me to move on, and Ulala was waiting for me. All I had to do was go.