Be proud of me; this isn't as late as I expected to get this out. From here on out, we have an official Sara/Osamu paring . . .until I throw some twists your way :) This chapter, especially the scene in the car was a bitch to write. I'm going to be really glad when we actually start getting to the drama . . right now it's just getting them together and the beginning of their relationship . . it's great and all, but a little boring to write. It frustrates me sometimes that i know the whole story, and I want so badly to share it. We'll get there eventually! I promise.

It's sad that I have to apologize for slow scenes :/ Either way, review are appreciated, should you be willing to give them.

A deep sigh came from Sara’s bed as she once again ripped off her top shirt and went scrounging through her closet for something – anything – to wear. She had exactly thirty minutes before Osamu was supposed to pick her up, and she wasn’t even ready.

“Sara, just pick something and stick with it.” Caleb complained loudly from her bed. He had surprised her about an hour ago, when he showed up and announced he was helping her dress for the date. It was a gesture Sara was grateful for; Caleb had an eye for detail, and was brilliant at finding matching outfit. When everyone else took their best girlfriends shopping, Sara took Caleb.

“He likes you,” Caleb continued, and Sara heard the sound of a bag rustling. He must have been getting into her chips. “It wouldn’t matter if you went in a tee shirt and sweatpants. You know he wouldn’t mind.”

There! That was the purple shirt she’d been digging for! She pulled it on and stepped out of the closet, giving Caleb a glare. “I’m going on a date, not a social outing. I’d like to look nice for him.” She checked her make up in the mirror. It looked at least halfway presentable. It would have to do.

Satisfied, she turned back to Caleb. “So, how do I look?”

Caleb’s eyes moved over her, and he swallowed, as if he were unsure if he should be honest or not. Finally, he took a deep breath. “Beautiful” he muttered. “You look beautiful.”

An awkward silence filled the dorm room as they stared at one another. Sara swallowed and moved her eyes toward the floor, wishing Caleb would move his gaze from her. Damn it, why did thing always have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t she be excited about a date without getting the guilt trip from Caleb. As if sensing her thoughts, Caleb opened his mouth. Before he could get a word out, however, there was a knock on her dorm door.

Caleb sighed. “Never mind.”

With a sigh, Sara pulled open the door to reveal Osamu. She felt her heart flutter a little, and she pasted a smile on her face. While he wasn’t dressed to the nines, he was dressed as casual as he normally did. Osamu gave her a honest smile and bowed slightly. “You look gorgeous.”

Sara couldn’t stop herself from blushing. “Thank you. Are we ready to go?”

“I am ready as soon as you are.” Osamu peeked over the top of her head and frowned. He had spotted Caleb. “You’re not allowed in the girls dorms, Motomiya.”

“Doesn’t that rule apply to you as well?” Caleb shot back. He didn’t move an inch from his position on Sara’s bed.

Osamu help up a paper slip and gave Caleb as Caleb narrowed his eyes. “I have permission,” Osamu explained slowly, as if he were speaking to a small child. “It specifically states I have a fifteen minutes pass to pick up Sara Adams for the purpose of a --”

“I got it.” Caleb interrupted, launching himself off the bed. “I’m gone, I’m gone.” He shot Sara a look that was both apologetic hurt at the same time. It made Sara’s stomach sink even further. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I suppose?”

“I’ll meet you for lunch.”

“Deal.” Caleb gave Osamu one last hard stare before leaving. Osamu didn’t react; he simply focused on the wall until Caleb was out of his sight.

“You don’t have to attack him.” Sara accused the minute Caleb started down the hall. “He’s my best friend, Osamu. He doesn’t deserve that.”

Osamu gave her a blank look. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you have nothing to be jealous of.”

Osamu seemed to consider this briefly. “I’m not . . .jealous. Motomiya –“

“Caleb. His name is Caleb.”

“Motomiya annoys me a great majority of the time,” Osamu continued as if Sara had never spoken, but his tone had more of an edge to it this time around. “He might be your best friend, and I your date, but I am not required to like him.”

Sara stood her ground, crossing her arms at him. “I respect that you two don’t like each other. I think he dislikes you as much as you dislike him, but I am not going to get caught in the middle of this. I’m not asking you two to be the best of friends; all I’m asking is that you don’t bash my best friend in front of me. I ask the same thing of him.”

Silence fell between them again. Sara could almost see the gears turning in Osamu’s head as he considered this newest turn of events.

“I can not promise you that we will get along,” Osamu started slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “But I will no longer make any negative comments about him as long as you’re with me. You’re right. It isn’t fair to you. I’m sorry.”

“I accept.” Sara grabbed her jacket off of the chair, and grabbed her purse and keys. “Let’s go.”

Without another word, Osamu led her downstairs to a car. Sara stopped head, and looked up at him with what she was sure was a panicked expression on her face. “We’re driving?”

“Of course.” He gave her a confused look. “The car belongs to my Uncle Tenshi, who is currently teaching in Australia. He obviously won’t need it for a while, so he lent it to me. It’s about a two hour drive.”

Her stomach lurched. She thought they were going to be taking the trains. Osamu unlocked the passenger door, and Sara slowly slid inside, immediately putting on the seat belt. She took a deep breath as Osamu started the vehicle and pulled into traffic. He was going to think she was crazy.

“Calm down,” Osamu laughed as he zipped through traffic at what Sara was sure was death defying speeds. “We’re not going to crash.”

“Right, because being trapped in a small metal box is safe when you’re going ninety miles an hour.”

“I haven’t even hit the equivalent of fifty. I promise, I’m a safe driver.” Osamu put a hand over his heart. He stared at her while they stopped at red light, and lifted an eyebrow. “I would have never guessed you were afraid of cars. Trains don’t seem to bother you.”

“Trains are not as small as cars, and I know can’t have control over a train. It’s a control issue, honestly. I’m fine if I’m driving my own car, because I know my limits and what I can do and can’t do. But if you stick me as a passenger in a vehicle, I panic. I always have.”

“I could distract you. We could hold a twenty questions like scenario. It would at least tide us over for the next two hours.”

Sara took a deep breath, and willed herself to let go of the seat. “That would be a good distraction.” She agreed. Two hours? “Obviously you like musicals. Which ones are you favorite?”

“You’re asking me to choose?” Osamu looked amused, but thoughtful. “I like quite a few musicals, thanks to the influence of my cousin. I like Phantom, obviously . . . The Producers is rather amusing, but you need a sick sense of humor to enjoy the show. Les Miserables was phenomenal when I saw it. There are others in there.” He tilted his head. “What is yours?”

Sara suddenly felt very under educated. “I don’t know many. The first musical I was ever exposed to was one known as 1776 – I was obsessed with the American Revolution, so it fit me well. Since then, Caleb has introduced me to Spamalot, and my school did a school version of RENT one year. I guess Phantom is my favorite.”

“It can’t be everyone’s passion.” Osamu told her gently. “My cousin is obsessed with musicals – he must have at least three hundred cast recordings – and he’s introduced me to quite a few of them. Some I like some I don’t. At the end of the day, I’m simply an actor, whether it’s musical theatre, or plays.” He thought for a moment, before turning to look at her. “Would you rather live without your hearing, or would you rather live being unable to talk.”

That question was not one she had expected. Sara thought about it, and then answered. “I would rather live unable to speak. At least without my voice, I could still make music, and be able to hear it; I would just have to give up singing. I could still write, and play my violin, and therefore, I’d still be able to communicate.” She shuddered. “The worst thing you could do to me is make me deaf.”

“I think I’d rather like being deaf,” Osamu murmured. “I have enough action in my head to keep me going.” His face clouded over at the mention, and the car fell silent. “It’s your turn to ask a question.” He told her quietly.

“Which do you believe runs deeper? Love, or blood?” It was a question off the top of her head.

“It would have to depend on the situation, and the blood we’re talking about.” Osamu answered promptly. “If you made me choose between the love of my life and my Mom and Dad . . . . God, I don’t know. With my wife, I could start a new family, but . . . I’m a Momma’s boy.” He gave a sheepish grin. “However if they gave me a choice between you and my Uncle Maka, that’s easy. You would win.”

“I’m not that important, Osamu.”

Osamu took his eyes off the road briefly to turn to look at her, peering at her through his glasses. “I have a feeling you will be.”

They spent the rest of the trip in silence, and Sara didn’t even mind.