This is my first Spiral fanfic. I've been a fan for a little while but I only just recently got back into it. This popped into my head during biology class (the anatomy of flowers) and I had to write it. Please enjoy.
He Loves Me Not
Pale, slender fingers gently took hold of the silky petals and pulled them gently from the stem. A small purple pile had accumulated on the ground by her feet and a few green stalks lay beside her on the bench. When she'd finished with the one in her hand, she frowned and leaned over to pull another from the ground.
Before she started, she pushed her light brown hair behind her ear, frustrated by its presence in her face. She bit her lip and glared at the flower resting in her palm and raised her other hand to begin the ritual.
"He loves me." Pluck. "He loves me not." Pluck. "He loves me." Pluck. "He loves me not." Pluck. "He loves me." Pluck.
She glared at the single remaining petal, not wanting to pull it—the "he loves me not" petal. But her fingers trembled, grasped it and yanked of their own accord. She let it fall to the ground and tossed the stem to the side.
She'd had enough.
Hiyono rested her elbows on her knees and placed her chin in her hands, dejected. No matter how many times she tried, the irises had six petals. There would never be a different answer. Ayumu would never return her feelings.
She sighed, irritable and depressed, and looked at the stupid purple blob in the dirt. She swept it away with one foot, covering all evidence with the brown dust. The stems were thrown into the grass behind her, where they would blend in and go unnoticed.
She couldn't remember when she'd realized her feelings for the boy. She thought it might have been when he solved the case of the turtle in the auditorium, but that might have been relief, or justification for trusting him. It might have been when Kousuke unleashed a bee and he hid behind her. As unmanly as that was, it showed he could let down his guard around her, rely on her for protection once in a while.
Whenever it had started, it was becoming a problem now. She could barely look at the boy without her heart speeding up and her face flushing red. She would suddenly heat up, and she often had to excuse herself with the excuse that she felt too warm, hoping that—considering her frequency of leaving the room—she didn't sound like an elderly woman with hot flashes.
She sighed again.
"He loves me not…" she repeated, and bent to pick up a petal she had accidentally unearthed. "Damn."
"Whoa, did I just hear you swear?" The girl jumped at the sound of his voice, not only because he'd startled her by coming out of nowhere. "That's a first."
She looked up to see him looking down at her, his face as indifferent as always as he peered out from behind the brown bangs that were perpetually in his eyes. "Ayumu!" She quickly, easily slid up her mask and spoke loudly and enthusiastically. "What are you doing here?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Just going for a walk." His eyes travelled to the petal still in her hand. "Plucking petals?"
Hiyono balled her fist around the small thing and chuckled nervously. "N-no." He looked at her as if daring her to lie again when the evidence was in his face. He rolled his eyes. She prayed he couldn't tell she was blushing.
"I'm not stupid. You've got pollen on your fingers." She'd forgotten about him and his super-logic. "Why so angry? Not happy with the result?"
She sighed, deciding there was no harm in telling him. "The iris has six petals, as you know." She said. "So no matter how many times I try it will end up the same." She cupped her chin with her hands again, leaning forward to put her elbows on her knees.
He wrinkled his brow, looking at the flowers with a scrutinizing eye. He hated the violet-colored things for their association with his brother and the blade children, but despite his distaste for them, he still knew—
"Irises don't have six petals." The upperclassmen looked up in surprise, thinking he would just leave her with her trivial games, not caring about her sadness. "Don't you know? Three of them—"he pointed to the straightened ones—"are actually modified sepals. Not petals at all." He smirked. She thought he was being condescending and silently scowled when he wasn't looking.
He bent and wrapped his fingers around the stem of another iris, pulling it gently from the dirt with a "snap."
"Why don't you try again?" He held the flower out to her. She reached for it, and then faltered.
"It's just a stupid game," she laughed sadly. "It doesn't matter." She dropped her hand back onto her lap. Ayumu smirked again, and she felt her heart skip.
"Oh?" He reached a hand up and placed it on a petal—a true petal. "Then allow me."
She didn't want to hear it. To hear it from his mouth would make it all the worse, even though he didn't know who she was talking about.
"He loves you." Pluck.
No, don't.
"He loves you not." Pluck.
Ayumu, don't tease me.
The third one fluttered to the ground as soon as he let go, and as she watched it fall, tears in her eyes, she didn't noticed him growing closer.
Purple-stained fingers grabbed her chin and tilted her head up to face him. His lips were inches from her own and her breathing stopped completely when she smelled the mint on his breath.
"He loves you."
He gently pressed his lips to hers.
A/N: Reviews?