Sharp Little Face
From the number of times he's caught her, he knows that Amu is all angles. Sharp elbows, sharp knees, sharp chin; sharp eyes that always watch him like he really is some stray cat.
He knows crushes, he knows love. They're just sappy words people use to describe sentiments he really doesn't have the patience for. They don't explain why her sharp little face keeps coming into his mind, or why the Lock and the Key won't come together.
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He tries to avoid her, if he can. They're supposed to be enemies, but Amu keeps letting her guard down when he's around, and it's too tempting for him to tease her and watch her become flustered. He's watched her with her friends, and he knows that he's the only one who can get that reaction. Not even the kiddy king can rattle her nerves like he can.
Part of him likes the way she sees him. A stray cat, wandering the town, full of secrets and surprise, who really isn't all bad. He's full of secrets, all right, but it almost hurts to imagine how she'd look if he ever told her any of his real secrets.
He doesn't want Amu to know what he's doing for Utau, he and his violin. He will always help Utau, because she's his little sister, even if it's to gather X-Eggs, but he doesn't want to see her sharp little face staring up at him from the crowd. He doesn't want to see her reproachful look, like she somehow expected better of him.
Maybe she rattles his nerves a little, too.
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She falls, he catches her. It's almost becoming a routine. He tries not to think about how, one day, he might not be there to catch her.
Her eyes are tightly closed as they fall, her arms flung around his neck, and her sharp little face is pressed against his chest. They land, too far from her friends for them to know where she's gone, and she's still clinging onto him.
We have to stop running into each other like this, you know, he whispers, directly into her ear.
She starts, and immediately releases her grip, and flails just enough that he lets her down before she hits him. Her sharp little face is rapidly approaching the colour of her cheerleader outfit.
He leans down, reaches out, and tilts her chin up to look him straight in the eye. You need to be more careful, he says seriously.
She looks away. I know, she mumbles, wholly Amu, and not Amulet Heart, and steels up the courage to look back at him. Um, thank you.
In the days to follow, her sharp little face is all he can think of, with those wide, earnest eyes looking back up at him until he let her go and left as quickly as he could, the Dumpty Key jabbing into his leg as he jumped.
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Amu is always dressed like some magazine trend, but he never really thought about where she gets her clothes until he sees her shopping. He follows her, watches as her mother entrusts her with a shopping list before hurrying away, and decides to walk with her. Little girls shouldn't walk alone, he says darkly, sneaking up on her, and is gratified by her shriek. She stammers his name in protest, and finally he propels her into the next shop on her list.
She stops to look at everything frilly, examining it with care, but only buys items that fit her 'cool and spicy' image. He watches her hold up clothes, and eventually begins offering his own input. Eventually, she ignores him completely, after he recommends yet another Lolita-style dress, and continues choosing punk styles. The only frilly item she purchases is for her younger sister, she explains hesitantly.
She buys an ice cream cone on the way home, and it drips down the side before she's even halfway down the street. He licks it off, smirking. It's a little like what the shrieking girls at school call an indirect kiss. He has a feeling Amu thinks of it that way, too. To him, it means free ice cream, he muses, tail swooshing as he backs away.
Go home before dark, little girl, he says in his scariest voice. It's summertime, and the night is meant for scaring.
Her sharp little face looks at him, and Amu is all angles and shadow in the dying light. I'm not a little girl, she says quietly, shopping bags in one hand, cone in the other.
Hmm, he agrees. Thanks for the date, he teases.
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Someone saw him with Amu, he gathers. Suddenly she is propelled into his other world, the school life he steps away from every afternoon, the world that has nothing to do with the Embryo or Easter or the Guardians or anything real.
Oi, Tsukiyomi! they shout at school. What were you, babysitting?
He thinks about it seriously for a moment. Babysitting is being with Utau and Tadase and keeping them from squabbling. He thinks of the amusement park, being with them, then being with her, her sharp little face pressed into her drawn up knees.
Do you have a girlfriend? she stutters, her sharp little face turning red.
You offering? he says.
Oi, Tsukiyomi! You into jailbait?
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When he closes his eyes, she shows up. He sees her sharp little face light up as she watches him play his violin in the park. That sharp little face screwed up tight and on the verge of tears as children's dreams are stolen into an X-Egg. The one time he tried to open her Humpty Lock with his Key, how he suddenly couldn't see anything else but her sharp little face lit up by the light reflecting off the Lock and the Key, looking up at him with an expression he still can't place.
Again and again, she shows up in his thoughts. He thinks once again of terms like 'crush' and 'like' and 'love'. He considers words like 'circumstance'; entertains thoughts that perhaps their relationship is entirely chance meetings and doesn't mean anything. He looks at things realistically, reminding himself that Amu is in elementary school, and he shouldn't even bother with her.
Nothing works.
All he wants is the Embryo. But when he thinks of the Embryo, she's always there with him; her sharp little face somewhere nearby, looking up at it.
He groans, and stretches out on the grass for a nice long nap.
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author's notes: my first foray into Shugo Chara fic. concrit is welcome!