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A/N: Chapter One Finally Out! Thank you for your patience everyone!

Disclaimer: I, LilDeviantMuse, do not own any of the animes . But I enjoy these series to the point of writing fanfiction about them.

Denial Is My Truth

Chapter One: Remember Me?

For possibly an hour or longer, you had been sitting at the bar quietly enjoying the subtle sounds of La Tabléau, a local bar nested twenty minutes from Tokyo. The pub gave off an intimate atmosphere with pseudo white wax candles illuminating every wooden table, and the interior reminiscent of the French Countrystyle during the Victorian Era. Only a handful of patrons occupied the quaint pub, including yourself who sat in front of the bar, slowly swirling the fragrant amber liquid around in your glass. you smile faintly as a glass of bourbon oddly reminded you of that little boy with jet black hair and golden eyes who use to follow you around so long ago like a lost little duckling. From what you've been told, he now had his own little duckling – Kasumi, his baby sister who you've only heard about from your parents. Apparently Kasumi is as cute and sweet as a kitten. The talk about Kasumi and the memories at Tatsumi had you wondering what your little duckling looks like now. Perhaps a taller version of himself and still quiet and innocent. Or perhaps a budding man with some traces of facial hair..Facial hair became quite hard to imagine on Tatsumi partially because it seemed weird...

“Or maybe he has a girlfriend now....Or boyfriend,” you shrug indifferently then take a tentative sip from your glass. The flavors of the bourbon are subtle, but the creamy and sweet vanilla, and the mixture of spices do not go unnoticed by your taste-buds. Smiling, you slowly swallow the warm liquid and the warmth immediately spreads throughout your chest. You held the glass at eye level and watch the clear viscous threads slowly slide down the inside of your glass. You imagine Tatsumi's cute little face then suddenly imagined him taller with a ridiculously thick mustache. “Oh God...” You giggle then snort to yourself as you felt your body relax more to the point of almost feeling numb.

Another smile eases it's way onto your lips as you once again swirl the liquid in your glass with fond memories of your little duckling. You take another whiff of the bourbon, “I hope he can recognize me after being away for so long.” You whisper to yourself then take a little gulp of your drink.

Behind the bar stands a middle-age man, the bartender, who quietly approaches you with a smile that could make even a totally distressed stranger be put at ease. He reminded you of your father, handsome and seemingly friendly but with a body build that would indicate that he exercised regularly and would win in a fight if the opportunity every arises. Thus he leans on the bar in front of you with his arms crossed.“So...What's a pretty girl like you doing in a pub so early in the day and drinking bourbon no less? You look young enough to be my daughter.” His voice was fairly deep, and mellow like a cello being strummed gently which put you even more at ease.

Looking up at him, you smile thoughtfully as if his question was some sort of philosophical notion. “Uncle,” a term you used loosely for men who are old enough to be your father – or at least a decade older than you. It was merely a sign of respect instead of referring to them as sir or old man. “I just happen to like this brand,” you tell him while gingerly holding your glass up. He gave you an appreciative nod but gestured for you to continue talking. Once again, you smile and focus on the liquid you start to swirl in the glass. “I moved away a long time ago...Leaving a certain someone behind who was probably upset because I didn't have time to tell them I was leaving. So I decided to move back, and hopefully....” Your words drifted off and you stare at the caramel colored drink as you lick your lips with a sense of guilt plaguing you. You quickly take a fairly big swig of your bourbon as a myriad of thoughts flows through your head. You didn't even look at the older man but focused on the tiny amount of bourbon left in your glass.

The older man closes his eyes briefly as if internalizing your statement and he smiles with his head resting on his forearms. “If there is one thing I know, it's that real friends will be pissed at you for sometime if you go missing without at least saying goodbye. But,” he quickly interjects his own statement the moment you look marginally depressed. “They will also let it go eventually once you show true effort in wanting to rekindle that relationship and sincerity for leaving them in the dark. If they care about you enough, even if they are angry with you, they will find a way to forgive you.”

He nods at your near empty glass briefly, acknowledging the smidgen of liquor you had left. “You wan' another refill? Your glass is getting low there.”

Downing the last bit of your bourbon, you smile genuinely at the older man while placing the glass down gently on the counter. The warmth from the bourbon spreads across your chest once more almost as if it is liquid confidence itself swelling within your chest. The thought of leaving the bar in a partially drunken state did not bother in the slightest now, but it still might be a bad idea. Either way, you are feeling pretty darn good right about now and you simply wanted to savor the feeling without going overboard. “Naaaah,” you click your tongue lightly and tilt your head to the side while looking at the bartender. “I think two glasses is enough for now.” You nod your head almost as if you wanted to confirm your decision with yourself then promptly dug your hand into your purse that was placed on the counter, and fished out two five dollar bills as his tip. “Thanks for the drink and chat, uncle.” You place the five dollar bills in his hand as you stand up and slid your purse onto your shoulder.

“Anytime sweetheart,” replies the bartender who kept up his pleasant smile while stuffing the money into his back pocket. “Come by again and have a drink on the house next time. Maybe even bring that friend of yours for a drink.”

The suggestion alone made you want to chuckle, but instead as you stroll towards the front entrance, you take a short moment to stop and glance back at the old man. “Maybe... When he's of drinking age.” With an amused smile on your lips, you pivot on your heels and push the large, heavy oak wood door open. A cool mid-day breeze brushes against your exposed skin and face which had been tingling slightly from being intoxicated. Turning to your left and facing the adjacent street, you lift your arm and examine your watch while ignoring the people who are walking around you..

“5:51...” You murmur to yourself while calculating the time it would take you to reach your new apartment then do a surprise visit. “Let's see...thirty minutes...And it'll take me an hour to set up my stuff and fifteen minutes to visit....Mmm...Maybe I'll just do my set up tomorrow and visit my little duckling now?” You hum as you ponder about this simple task for a moment then wave your hand dismissively about getting your décor and belongings set up in your new apartment. “Yeah...Tomorrow is definitely better. So....” You dug your hand into your purse again and pull out your smart phone. While holding your phone in one hand, your thumb slides over the bottom of the screen – creating a bubble popping sound and in a mere second, the screen lights up with your custom wallpaper. Brushing past the icons quickly, you locate your address book and quickly route through your call logs to find the last phone number you dialed which is the taxi you took to get to the pub. You tapped the number once, and lifted the phone to your ear as the phone begins to ring.

Two rings later, a sweet feminine voice comes to your ear with the usual greeting and introduction. You barely paid attention to it and smile shortly after the dispatcher inquired how she could assist you. “Yes, I called earlier. I need another taxi to pick me up and drop me off..”

The dispatcher started typing rapidly in the background and she pauses shortly after. “Miss, it will take twenty minutes for the next available taxi. Will that be ok?”

You shrug indifferently thinking an additional fifteen minutes wouldn't kill you. Right now, you were more concerned about sounding like a drunkard and looking like one at the same time. But you were certain that the other civilians probably already knew and probably didn't care as much. But you still wanted to not look like a complete lush – not that you are, and not that you're really that drunk, but you still did not want give off that image....”Yeah, that's fine.”

There was more typing in the background for a few moments and the dispatcher responds cheerfully. “Ok Ms. What address do you need to be picked up from and what is the address to where you would like to be dropped off?”

A smile came to your lips and you start pacing slowly down the street. “Tokyo La Tableau,” you start explaining then continue telling her the address. As you provide the woman on the other end the information she needed, she typed in the information accordingly and paused when you did.

“And your destination,” she inquires politely.

You obliged, telling the dispatcher the address you remembered Tatsumi's parents informing you via text a few days ago. The smile on your lips returns as you found yourself getting excited to see little Tatsumi after so many years.

~Proceed To Chapter Two: Hello My Little Duckling~

Description
A/N: Chapter One Finally Out! Thank you for your patience everyone!

Disclaimer: I, LilDeviantMuse, do not own any of the animes . But I enjoy these series to the point of writing fanfiction about them.

Denial Is My Truth

Chapter One: Remember Me?

For possibly an hour or longer, you had been sitting at the bar quietly enjoying the subtle sounds of La Tabléau, a local bar nested twenty minutes from Tokyo. The pub gave off an intimate atmosphere with pseudo white wax candles illuminating every wooden table, and the interior reminiscent of the French Countrystyle during the Victorian Era. Only a handful of patrons occupied the quaint pub, including yourself who sat in front of the bar, slowly swirling the fragrant amber liquid around in your glass. you smile faintly as a glass of bourbon oddly reminded you of that little boy with jet black hair and golden eyes who use to follow you around so long ago like a lost little duckling. From what you've been told, he now had his own little duckling – Kasumi, his baby sister who you've only heard about from your parents. Apparently Kasumi is as cute and sweet as a kitten. The talk about Kasumi and the memories at Tatsumi had you wondering what your little duckling looks like now. Perhaps a taller version of himself and still quiet and innocent. Or perhaps a budding man with some traces of facial hair..Facial hair became quite hard to imagine on Tatsumi partially because it seemed weird...

“Or maybe he has a girlfriend now....Or boyfriend,” you shrug indifferently then take a tentative sip from your glass. The flavors of the bourbon are subtle, but the creamy and sweet vanilla, and the mixture of spices do not go unnoticed by your taste-buds. Smiling, you slowly swallow the warm liquid and the warmth immediately spreads throughout your chest. You held the glass at eye level and watch the clear viscous threads slowly slide down the inside of your glass. You imagine Tatsumi's cute little face then suddenly imagined him taller with a ridiculously thick mustache. “Oh God...” You giggle then snort to yourself as you felt your body relax more to the point of almost feeling numb.

Another smile eases it's way onto your lips as you once again swirl the liquid in your glass with fond memories of your little duckling. You take another whiff of the bourbon, “I hope he can recognize me after being away for so long.” You whisper to yourself then take a little gulp of your drink.

Behind the bar stands a middle-age man, the bartender, who quietly approaches you with a smile that could make even a totally distressed stranger be put at ease. He reminded you of your father, handsome and seemingly friendly but with a body build that would indicate that he exercised regularly and would win in a fight if the opportunity every arises. Thus he leans on the bar in front of you with his arms crossed.“So...What's a pretty girl like you doing in a pub so early in the day and drinking bourbon no less? You look young enough to be my daughter.” His voice was fairly deep, and mellow like a cello being strummed gently which put you even more at ease.

Looking up at him, you smile thoughtfully as if his question was some sort of philosophical notion. “Uncle,” a term you used loosely for men who are old enough to be your father – or at least a decade older than you. It was merely a sign of respect instead of referring to them as sir or old man. “I just happen to like this brand,” you tell him while gingerly holding your glass up. He gave you an appreciative nod but gestured for you to continue talking. Once again, you smile and focus on the liquid you start to swirl in the glass. “I moved away a long time ago...Leaving a certain someone behind who was probably upset because I didn't have time to tell them I was leaving. So I decided to move back, and hopefully....” Your words drifted off and you stare at the caramel colored drink as you lick your lips with a sense of guilt plaguing you. You quickly take a fairly big swig of your bourbon as a myriad of thoughts flows through your head. You didn't even look at the older man but focused on the tiny amount of bourbon left in your glass.

The older man closes his eyes briefly as if internalizing your statement and he smiles with his head resting on his forearms. “If there is one thing I know, it's that real friends will be pissed at you for sometime if you go missing without at least saying goodbye. But,” he quickly interjects his own statement the moment you look marginally depressed. “They will also let it go eventually once you show true effort in wanting to rekindle that relationship and sincerity for leaving them in the dark. If they care about you enough, even if they are angry with you, they will find a way to forgive you.”

He nods at your near empty glass briefly, acknowledging the smidgen of liquor you had left. “You wan' another refill? Your glass is getting low there.”

Downing the last bit of your bourbon, you smile genuinely at the older man while placing the glass down gently on the counter. The warmth from the bourbon spreads across your chest once more almost as if it is liquid confidence itself swelling within your chest. The thought of leaving the bar in a partially drunken state did not bother in the slightest now, but it still might be a bad idea. Either way, you are feeling pretty darn good right about now and you simply wanted to savor the feeling without going overboard. “Naaaah,” you click your tongue lightly and tilt your head to the side while looking at the bartender. “I think two glasses is enough for now.” You nod your head almost as if you wanted to confirm your decision with yourself then promptly dug your hand into your purse that was placed on the counter, and fished out two five dollar bills as his tip. “Thanks for the drink and chat, uncle.” You place the five dollar bills in his hand as you stand up and slid your purse onto your shoulder.

“Anytime sweetheart,” replies the bartender who kept up his pleasant smile while stuffing the money into his back pocket. “Come by again and have a drink on the house next time. Maybe even bring that friend of yours for a drink.”

The suggestion alone made you want to chuckle, but instead as you stroll towards the front entrance, you take a short moment to stop and glance back at the old man. “Maybe... When he's of drinking age.” With an amused smile on your lips, you pivot on your heels and push the large, heavy oak wood door open. A cool mid-day breeze brushes against your exposed skin and face which had been tingling slightly from being intoxicated. Turning to your left and facing the adjacent street, you lift your arm and examine your watch while ignoring the people who are walking around you..

“5:51...” You murmur to yourself while calculating the time it would take you to reach your new apartment then do a surprise visit. “Let's see...thirty minutes...And it'll take me an hour to set up my stuff and fifteen minutes to visit....Mmm...Maybe I'll just do my set up tomorrow and visit my little duckling now?” You hum as you ponder about this simple task for a moment then wave your hand dismissively about getting your décor and belongings set up in your new apartment. “Yeah...Tomorrow is definitely better. So....” You dug your hand into your purse again and pull out your smart phone. While holding your phone in one hand, your thumb slides over the bottom of the screen – creating a bubble popping sound and in a mere second, the screen lights up with your custom wallpaper. Brushing past the icons quickly, you locate your address book and quickly route through your call logs to find the last phone number you dialed which is the taxi you took to get to the pub. You tapped the number once, and lifted the phone to your ear as the phone begins to ring.

Two rings later, a sweet feminine voice comes to your ear with the usual greeting and introduction. You barely paid attention to it and smile shortly after the dispatcher inquired how she could assist you. “Yes, I called earlier. I need another taxi to pick me up and drop me off..”

The dispatcher started typing rapidly in the background and she pauses shortly after. “Miss, it will take twenty minutes for the next available taxi. Will that be ok?”

You shrug indifferently thinking an additional fifteen minutes wouldn't kill you. Right now, you were more concerned about sounding like a drunkard and looking like one at the same time. But you were certain that the other civilians probably already knew and probably didn't care as much. But you still wanted to not look like a complete lush – not that you are, and not that you're really that drunk, but you still did not want give off that image....”Yeah, that's fine.”

There was more typing in the background for a few moments and the dispatcher responds cheerfully. “Ok Ms. What address do you need to be picked up from and what is the address to where you would like to be dropped off?”

A smile came to your lips and you start pacing slowly down the street. “Tokyo La Tableau,” you start explaining then continue telling her the address. As you provide the woman on the other end the information she needed, she typed in the information accordingly and paused when you did.

“And your destination,” she inquires politely.

You obliged, telling the dispatcher the address you remembered Tatsumi's parents informing you via text a few days ago. The smile on your lips returns as you found yourself getting excited to see little Tatsumi after so many years.

~Proceed To Chapter Two: Hello My Little Duckling~