A/N: My first Kimi ni Todoke fanfic. AU

I've been dreaming this story up in my head for a long time now, so I hope you like it! :D It will hopefully be kind of long. Around fifteen, twenty chapters?

Rated T for now. I may change the rating later.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Kimi ni Todoke.

Oh, and because I think there might be some confusion as to this in my fanfic, due to various reasons…

Nodding the head will always, always mean "yes", while shaking the head will always, always mean "no".

"Speech"

'Thought' / 'Sawako's Expressive Eyes'

Lyrics

Chapter 1: Garden

The girl straightened and wiped her moist brow with the back of her hand. It was warmer than usual outside, and she did not have much protection from the heat—though the dense tree cover was sufficient to block most of the sun's rays, underneath the air was hot and humid. Sweeping her gaze across the scene in front of her, the girl smiled a phantom smile.

Her work was finally paying off. The garden was thriving under her tender care. Gentle flowers blossomed in the neat beds along paths winding through a myriad of trees of all kinds and marked only by the occasional imprint of a small shoe. Petals of soft, light colors decorated bright green leaves planted among soil darkened by moisture and nutrients. In other areas, herbs, fruits, and vegetables grew tall and vibrant with her watchful eyes looking out for them. Weeds had no place here. In the background, a crystal clear stream ran by, sparkling with the sun's light as though it really were a gem of sorts. Along the flower beds, immaculately groomed fruit trees stood tall and proud. But perhaps the most notable thing about the garden—and by far the most beautiful thing—was the fact that the cherry blossoms were blooming. The ground was peppered with the soft pink petals while the wind blew the small offerings along as if delivering love letters.

Her stomach growled, and the girl placed a patient hand over it. At first she glanced longingly at the just-ripened pears, but then she shook her head. 'I can't use these plants for my own gain. There are people who need these crops more than I.' However, her stomach begged to differ. To get her mind off the troubled organ, she knelt on the ground beside a flowerbed and began to tend to it. And she began to sing.

_SxS_

The boy wandered through the woods aimlessly, desperate for something to get his mind off of—that. No, he couldn't even think of it. It was so infeasible, so incredible, so maddening that there was no way he could stand to think of it one more second. Marry? Her? No. His parents, to even suggest such a blasphemous idea, must have been insane at that moment. They knew he did not love her. They knew, and yet…

Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. He could only hope they consider his reason for not wanting to marry the princess—and abide by his wishes. After all, it was his life, was it not? Why should he be forced to spend the rest of his existence with a princess whom he did not love?

In the middle of an angry scoff, the prince paused. There were no birds chirping. The entire forest was silent. But, wait…'Is that… singing?' he thought curiously. 'No, it's far too... There's no way.' And yet, as he continued to walk, he became more certain—yes, it was indeed singing. But the tone was so melodious, so tender, so bell-like, so… so sad, it was almost inconceivable that a human could make such a sound.

There was only one more thing that had to be said. "I need to hear more." And he began to race toward the music, keeping his movements quiet so as not to disturb the beautiful, anguished sounds with rude stomping and rustling. As he came nearer, he was able to distinguish words.

-will love me for me?

Not for what I have done or what I will become.

Who will love me for me?

'Cause nobody has shown me what love, love really means.

The prince hid behind a tree once he could see the source of the sounds, enraptured. Peeking out, he managed to steal a glance, but then he was rooted in place, unable to look away.

There knelt the most perfect, most beautiful, most magnificent being he had ever seen.

Hey, yeah…

He's waiting to die as he sits, all alone.

He's a man in a cell who regrets what he's done.

The prince risked a step closer. Able to get a better look now, he realized that, around the being creating the wondrous sounds were tens, dozen, hundreds of beautiful, vibrant flowers of every shape, color, and size. However, they paled in comparison to that which tended them.

He utters a cry from the depths of his soul,

"Oh, Lord, forgive me. I want to go home."

The girl he saw was unmistakably gorgeous. On her body she wore a simple white cotton dress that masked her figure and small brown shoes that seemed worn. Her soft, shiny black hair floated freely, flowed lustrously down to her hips. Her face was pale with soft features and wide, expressive brown pools. Even from this distance, the boy was able to see her long eyelashes that brushed her cheeks every time her eyes closed. She was crying. Instantly, he felt a strong—albeit quite foreign—urge to protect her from sadness. He watched, enchanted, as she continued.

Then, he heard a voice, somewhere deep inside.

And it said, "I know you've murdered, and I know you've lied.

But I've watched you suffer… all of your life.

And now that you'll listen, I'll, I'll tell you that I,

I will love you for you. Not for what you have done or what you will become."

Now the girl's face was upturned toward the skies in a dazzling smile that left the prince breathless. 'So… so beautiful...'

"I will love you for you. I will give you the love, the love that you nev—"

The girl suddenly stopped and straightened, her thin, pale fingers wiping her tears away, the smile gone from her face. The prince, unknowingly, had stepped forward once again, crushing a twig with a loud SNAP under his boot. When the dark-haired beauty saw him, her brown eyes widened and she gasped. And she began to run.

"Wait! Wait, no, stop! Please!" the prince called, chasing the girl as swiftly as his legs could carry him. "Wait! I mean you no harm! Please, stop, I just want to talk to you!"

The girl, weak from hunger, could not run quickly for long. It was only a matter of time before the boy caught up to her. She could hear his shouts and almost wished she could do as he said. Tears began to stream down her face as she ran; her choking lungs and twisting stomach betrayed her. Finally, she had no choice. She hid herself behind a tree and clamped a hand over her gasping mouth, trying to quiet herself so that the one who had seen her would not find her.

She heard his footsteps a few yards away and pressed her back against the tree as much as she was able.

"Please, wait…" The prince sighed. Had he lost her? But she was just here, he was sure of it. He paused for a moment, then decided that he would search for her again tomorrow. However, just as he turned, he caught the sound of labored breathing—and a very loud stomach.

She jumped and her face flushed when he came up beside her, smirking, and inquired, "Are you hungry?"

The girl inched away from him defensively, still crying a bit. She shook her head and looked down.

"Hey, wait… I didn't mean to scare you. Really, it's okay." He offered his hand. "Um, let's start over. Hello, I'm Kazehaya Shota. Who might you be?"

The girl merely stared at him with suspicion, biting her bottom lip. Her expressive, deep brown eyes told him that she didn't trust him. And then, they told him she was embarrassed as her stomach growled once more.

"I have a sandwich you could have. Would you like that?" He brought out a small brown sack and pulled from it a ham sandwich. Unremarkable, but better than nothing.

The dark-haired beauty seemed torn in indecision for a moment, then looked down and shook her head. He didn't like not being able to see her eyes.

"Please? Why not?" he asked. Why would she not speak to him?

With a trembling finger, the girl pointed at the sandwich, then at him. She grudgingly brought her large eyes back to him as if to say, 'It's your sandwich.'

Shota chuckled and smiled. "We'll share it while we talk."

The girl bit her lip, hard, and shook her head furiously. Shota was alarmed. "H-hey, calm down! Please don't hurt yourself. What's wrong?"

The girl once again seemed torn with indecision, but she released the pressure on her bottom lip the slightest bit. Finally, she seemed to decide. With a shaking hand, she patted her throat and opened her mouth.

"What, you can't speak? But I heard you singing earli—Wait, don't go!" Shota caught her hand when the girl tried to stand up and brought her back down.

Frustrated and a bit frightened at the physical contact, the girl pulled her hand away, but did not make a move to leave again. She pantomimed something coming out of her mouth, but then forced it back inside with her other hand. She shrugged and fixed her large eyes on his once more. Her stomach growled again, and she blushed.

Shota tore the sandwich in half and offered a piece. "I'm not exactly sure that I understand what you mean, but you really need to eat. Please?"

The girl shook her head and looked away, but the prince was persistent. He leaned over and put the sandwich against her closed mouth and gently, ever so gently, pressed against it while he looked into her eyes. He knew how intimate this act would seem, and it made him burn with embarrassment; but he somehow felt compelled to. He saw, once again, indecision in her eyes, but finally the girl opened her mouth a bit and took the smallest bite of his sandwich. He smiled when she tentatively took the sandwich in her own hands.

"Go ahead, eat it," he urged and he brought his own half to his mouth and began to eat.

They sat in silence until Shota noticed that the girl had tears running down her face once more. Quietly, he asked, "What's wrong?"

The girl sniffed, shook her head, and took a bite of the sandwich. It was so good. Why was this stranger being so nice to her? He didn't even know her name, yet he had graciously given her half of his meal. Such kindness she had never been shown…

Shota smiled softly and reached toward her to pat her shoulder once—which she flinched at—, then brought his back back to his sandwich as he took another bite, finishing his half off. He watched her silently as she, still crying, ate the remainder of her half.

There were three things that crossed Shota's mind as he watched her: 1) that she was incredibly beautiful with her large, expressive eyes, delicate mouth, and pale skin; 2) that she was too slim, too skinny, and she looked as if she hadn't eaten in a very long time; 3) that she was shy and easily embarrassed. Wait, make that four. He wanted to protect her.

When she was finished with the sandwich and her stomach was temporarily satisfied, the girl turned to him once more. Her rich brown eyes shone into his own as if to say, with startling urgency and intensity, 'Thank you.'

Shota nodded and smiled. "No problem. Now, how about we go back to your garden and… communicate?" He hoped his choice of words was sufficient.

This time, the girl did not hesitate. She nodded and stood, then pointed the way back to her secret place. She began to walk, and Shota had to stand quickly and jog a bit to catch up with her. Now that she had something on her stomach, the girl felt strong again.

Before they came into the clearing, the girl stopped. She pointed at the garden, then Shota, and then put a finger to her lips.

'I'm not supposed to tell anyone about it,' Shota deciphered. He nodded at the girl, who then continued on.

The girl strode over to a rather large, cherry blossom-covered tree and sat down beneath it. Shota joined her.

"Is this your garden?" he asked. When the girl nodded, he smiled. "It must take a lot to care for a garden this large. Does anyone help you?"

After she blushed in acknowledgement to his compliment, the dark-haired girl shook her head. She was surprised that he stayed with her this long.

"Who are you?"

This question caught her off guard. How could she tell him what her name was without speaking? She bit her lip and shook her head, tapping her throat once more.

Shota nodded, then thought for a moment. Finally, he pulled his pack off his back and rummaged around inside it until he encountered his sketchpad. With a small cry of victory, he brandished the sketchpad and a pencil and then handed the two to the girl. "It's my sketchpad. Please use it to write what you want to say to me."

His sketchpad? The girl opened it to the first page, where a glorious black and white bird perched atop a branch. The detail was remarkable; this boy was a fine artist. She could not mar these pages with her scrawling script. The girl shook her hand and tried to hand the items back to him, but he insisted.

"Please. I want to know your name." His gaze penetrated her through to her soul. Biting her lip, she flipped through the book until she reached a free page, trying to ignore the fact that it was far too beautiful a sketchpad to be used by hands such as her own.

Biting her bottom lip, the girl began to write her name.

Kuronuma Sawako

She showed it to Shota, blushing.

The prince blinked when he saw her flowing script. Her writing was almost as beautiful as she was. He smiled at her. "It's nice to know you, Kuronuma."

She nodded, a pleasant look on her face, and dipped her head in his direction. Again, he was dazzled by her beauty. It was all he could do not to stare. "So, why do you only sing and not speak? Is it to protect your voice?"

He had struck a nerve, it seemed. The girl's face became defensive once more and she shook her head vehemently, but did not avoid his eyes.

"Then, why?"

He only received another shake of the head and a soft glare telling him to stop that line of thought. She would not divulge the answer to him… yet.

"Then… do you live nearby?" he asked. He watched the girl struggle with herself for a moment before she nodded, then in the same second shook her head. He chuckled. "Which is it?"

The girl looked down—she did not want to tell him the truth. Instead, she wrote something on the sketchpad.

You have the same name as the prince, Kazehaya-san.

Shota shrugged. He did not want her to know that part about him just yet. Instead, he asked, "What is your favorite color?" On a side note, the boy was surprised she remembered his name.

Sawako blushed, then picked up a cherry blossom from the ground beside her and put it on her lap. She held up two fingers, then pointed to the cherry blossom, and then to her white dress. "White and light pink, huh?" The girl nodded, blushing once more. Shota noted that she blushed the same color as a cherry blossom. Also, her lips were the same color as a cherry blossom—only a bit deeper pink.

Sawako pointed to him, then to the cherry blossom and her dress, and shrugged. Her eyes told him, 'What about you?'

The prince chuckled and thought for a moment. "I have three." With that, he slowly leaned forward and reached for her. She stiffened, but Shota calmed her with a murmured, "Don't worry, I won't hurt you." He took a lock of her raven hair in his hand. Sawako blushed and nodded. Then, he grinned and touched her cheek softly. It burned brighter, and when she nodded, he laughed. After that, he took her hand and touched her forearm. White as snow. Blushing harder, Sawako nodded once again. It had been so long since she had been touched so tenderly. Her skin tingled where his hands had brushed it.

The two continued to talk for the remainder of the afternoon; but when evening came, it was time for Shota to leave.

"Will you be here tomorrow?" he inquired. "I want to see you again."

Sawako's face lit up. She was so happy she could cry. She nodded fiercely.

Shota smiled. "I'll be here at noon." At Sawako's troubled look, he concluded that she might not be able to make it to the garden that early. "I'll wait for you. I know how to tend a garden; I'll look after it until you get here."

He laughed when Sawako gaped at him. Her eyes were full of gratitude and skepticism at the same time. "And I'll bring lunch, too, or dinner if you don't get back until then."

Sawako shook her head; she didn't want to be more of a burden to him than she already was—but the prince put his hand on her cheek, stopping the dissenting movement. "I'll bring a meal, and I'll bring a notepad so that you don't feel uncomfortable writing in my sketchbook." Her already large eyes widened. Before she could protest, he added, "But! In return, you have to let me sketch you."

The girl considered it for a moment, then nodded determinedly, though she was certain that she was not fit material to be sketched.

Shota beamed. "Thank you," he said to her as he got up. Sawako stood as well and walked him to the edge of the garden. Just before he exited to go back to the palace, he offered one last smile. "Good night, Kuronuma."

It was a moment before she responded. Turning up one corner of her mouth barely, she nodded in return, then pointed at him and dipped her head. As they locked eyes, Shota deciphered that she wished him a good night as well. Nodding once more, Shota turned and began to jog away from her.

Sawako sighed, blushed, and then began to cry because she was so happy. It took her a moment to compose herself, and then it was time to go back to work. Turning to her garden once more, she smiled. 'Best birthday ever.'

Of course, she didn't actually know if it was her real birthday or not. All she knew was that on the sixteenth day of May six years ago, she was "born". Not literally born, no; but it was the day that she found herself to be alive. As the girl tended to the herbs, she pondered her situation.

The first thing Sawako remembered was being thrust out of a window and landing in a dark, cold alley with nothing on her except her tattered clothing and her wits. Sawako had lived on the streets since then—but, the funny thing was, she couldn't remember anything prior to her tenth year of life. The girl didn't even know if that had been her real age; she had nothing to base it on as she remembered nothing. All she knew was that on that dark day, she was left out in the streets. And because she could remember nothing of her life before then, she called it her birth day, meaning her actual date of birth. It was not until later that she gave herself an actual—albeit approximate—age.

Surprisingly, she could remember all things pertaining to basic knowledge when she was "born": she remembered her own name; she could do math; she could read and write in five different languages; she remembered the plot of dozens of stories she had previously read; she remembered the history of a kingdom (whose name she simply could not recall) between the years of the Great Famine and the coronation of a certain king (whose name she also could not recall); and, perhaps the most important thing, she knew how to grow and tend plants and heal the sick with her remedies.

Sawako thought she should be about sixteen years old.

Though she tried not to think about it, life—living—had been hard. She had scrounged for food in the trash bins on the dark side of city for a few years; she still avoided gazes like the plague; she flinched away from people; her gloomy, shy nature scared people away from her. It had been like this for six years. Now, still at such a young age, Sawako did not have a job. She did not have a family; nor did she have any friends—except for (dare she think it?) Shota, maybe. Perhaps this was because she did not speak? On her birth day, she had opened her mouth to discover something—the words would not come out. Sure, she had the capacity to speak and yell—but something inside her heart was terrified of speaking.

The girl paused a moment to put her hand on her throat and began to sing once more, very quietly. She did not know why, but even though she couldn't speak to anyone, she was able to sing quite freely—when no one was around. Her face reddened once again as she recalled her unexpected audience earlier. How much had he heard? She would have to ask him tomorrow. Although she would not be able to come to the garden until one, maybe two, surely they would have plenty of time to talk. The girl still could not believe that Shota was willing to wait that long for her—and tend to the garden until she arrived!

Sawako began to pick some herbs. Tomorrow… Would he really come tomorrow? They had only just met, and yet he was willing to do favors for her, to visit her, to talk to her even though she couldn't speak back to him. No… It was too good to be true. Sawako had encountered many things in the eight years she could remember, and kindness towards a person such as herself was not one of them. She sighed, beginning to feel the faint slivers of hope fade. She had to let this go. She could not allow herself to dare hope for a friend.

_SxS_

Prince Shota came into the palace grounds quickly and quietly, almost like a fugitive. He was supposed to have returned two hours ago, but he lost track of time while talking with Sawako. She was so interesting, so engrossing, so… so enchanting. When he spoke to her, he felt as if she was considering his every word seriously, taking everything he said to heart, even when he was only joking. And her face was always so solemn, so grave—nervous, apprehensive sometimes. During their time together, he had not seen her smile once. Sure, she turned up the corners of her mouth, gave a soft whoosh of air as a faint laugh—but she did not smile as he had seen her when she was singing. He made it his goal then and there to make her genuinely smile for him.

Shota sighed as he climbed, as a thief would, through a window to avoid the main entrance. He prayed no one had noticed him or his absence; he knew everyone had. As if on cue, the prince heard footsteps around the corner, and quickly, he hid himself behind the curtain. His blood boiled and his eyes squeezed shut in prayer. 'Please don't let them find me, please don't let them find me…'

"Nice shoes."

Shota sighed. 'At least it's only Ryu…' He stepped out from behind the curtain sheepishly, chuckling. "Thanks."

"Everyone has been looking for you most of the day; where were you?" There was no change in cadence, no inflection of tone, no stressing of syllables, and such was Sanada Ryu's way of speaking. Ryu was one of the knights of the castle; he was also the son of the award-winning castle chef, which brought him more freedom than most knights. He and the prince had known one another since childhood.

Shota's face reddened slightly. "Well… I met a girl."

Ryu blinked, but said nothing. It could have been that he was waiting for more, or it could have been that he did not care—Shota could never be certain. The knight began walking once more and Shota fell into step beside him.

"And she's… she's so amazing. But, the thing is, is that she doesn't… speak. It's confusing. But I want to see her again. I'm going to see her again, tomorrow. Can you cover for me? I'm pretty sure that I will be gone most of the day."

Ryu grunted affirmation, to which Shota expressed his thanks.

_SxS_

Sawako returned to the homeless shelter, her arms nearly spilling over with baskets filled with various produce. An elderly cook spotted her and beckoned her over before the inhabitants of the shelter could steal her crops.

"Oh, bless you, child. These will bring smiles to the faces of many people. They'll be so happy to know that today, their soup will be hearty," the old woman said cheerfully, knowing that the dark-haired girl would not say anything in return. She led Sawako back to the kitchen, where the cooking crew was preparing for supper. "Everyone, look what our darling Meadowlark has brought!"

Of course, no one acknowledged the "Meadowlark". Everyone in the homeless shelter—almost everyone that Sawako met—saw her as a bad omen, a demonic witch-girl because of her dark look and silence. They often treated her with fear, scorn, and even anger. She was used to it, though. She would just have to try harder.

Sawako cheerfully but quietly carried the fruits, vegetables, and herbs to the large counter in the center of the area and aided in the bustle of putting away the new crops. When everything was done, she quickly set about to cleaning the kitchen, turning invisible to the kitchen staff except for when the kindly old woman turned to her and smiled. Sawako did her best to smile in return, but it turned out a grimace. It always did, except for when she sang…

Or when she spoke to Kazehaya-san.

The girl stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes wide in realization.

If she could smile with one person, she could definitely smile with other people! At least, she would try…

A/N: So, there it was! I hope you liked it.

Reviews are always welcome. Comments and Questions! :D