Ten Beats

Balling her fists as tightly as she could, Hiyori stared down at the ground and tried not to cry over the fragments of glass that winked back at her in the fading sunlight.

Take care of this while I'm gone, her mother had smiled before pressing a small glass chest into her hands, I promise to return soon.

Obviously Hiyori had thought herself more than capable of the task while waving goodbye to her mother at the airport, until a small bump in the road had occurred while returning back home.

Literally "a small bump" - one that had caught the edge of her shoe and sent an unaware Hiyori flying forward, along with the small figurine, which had shot from her hands like a bright star as it caught the late afternoon light. For a spare, merciful moment the figure had remained whole and untouched, promising as it had soared across the sky while Hiyori's eyes had tracked its progress. Then it had descended downward and before she could move the air had filled with the distinct sound of shattered glass as the chest had splintered into a thousand shards and scattered across the walkway.

Her first thought was to salvage the pieces and repair it to the best of her abilities, but half of the chest, she had quickly realized, had rolled down the side of the hill, winking into nonexistence in the tall autumn grass.

Emotionally distraught and on the very brink of tears, all she needed at this point was a passing act of kindness or a gentle voice of some sort to send her into the final wave of despair.

Struggling, she noticed a pair of shoes appear in her wavering vision and noted that the stranger had been considerate enough not to step on a particularly large shard that lay between them. She chocked.

"Excuse me?" Gentle and filled with simple inquiry.

That did it.

Sucking in as deep of a breath as her twelve year old lungs could hold, Hiyori tossed back her head and wailed so loudly it startled the couple passing idly by. She felt them pause, turning alarmed eyes in her direction.

Incapacitated by the onslaught of tears and a nose she knew would most definitely be plugged by the time she finished, Hiyori only continued to cry.

To the side, a small intentioned cough sounded, catching the pair's attention and, politely, her unnamed companion waved the couple away.

Once they had retreated a safe distance, glancing momentarily to check on Hiyori, the boy lowered himself to his heels and waited with his face in his hands, staring up at Hiyori in consideration. Upon first impression it would have seemed best that the couple had been the one to comfort the girl, the strange boy and lamenting girl casting an awkward picture in the chill autumn wind. And yet the boy's features were cast into endless patience, kindness pressed into every contour of his face as he let the breeze toss his hair, playfully, bidding his time. Waiting.

Moments later Hiyori followed after, both elbows perched on her knees as the tears began to melt into her hands, the heels buried against her lids.

With only the sound of her cries exchanged between them, the boy finally reacted. Wordless, he lifted one hand, his bracelet tinkling from the movement, and placed it gently on the crown of her head.

Instinctively, Hiyori flinched at the touch, her tears halting down their trail as for a split second she had the sudden urge to swat the hand away, irritation replacing her moment of grief.

Then warmth pooled down her head, soothing at the very point of contact. There was something reassuring about the weight of his entire palm as it rested against her head, his fingers extended along her skull to lend further support. Somehow it carried a well of unspoken consideration, as if he understood her pain though had not necessarily witnessed what had happened.

It was only a half moment later did she realize he was counting softly to himself. "One, two…" he began quietly, taking a rhythmic pause between numbers, and suddenly the warmth was gone as he lifted his hand away, startling her to look up. Red eyed and almost incapable of speech, it did not stop Hiyori from admiring the boy.

His hand landed back gently on her head as she took in the swath of blue black hair, the part positioned slightly above his left eye. "Three, four…" he continued. "Five, six…Seven, eight…" With each set of numbers came a successful pat, lingering and warm, before he lifted it for the next count.

"Nine, ten…" he whispered, and with a lasting sigh of relief he finally opened his eyes to gaze at Hiyori. Surprisingly, he wore an expression of absolute content, as if the action had affected him as well. But Hiyori was practically unaware of that. His coloring would have been considered plain at any other time of day, with his dark hair and possibly ocher, or at least, hazel tinted eyes. But facing the angle of the retreating sun, the boy's eyes nearly shone gold, stunning in their proximity as small, rich bits of auburn shone back at her.

"You stopped crying," he remarked softly, tilting a smile at her. He slid his hand away, taking back the heat and the reassuring weight, to retreat back beneath his face. Hiyori followed the path of his hand for just a moment before catching herself, and stopped.

He pointed at himself as she began to wipe away the remnants of her tears. "Natsume."

Only after taking in his features once more – he was possibly a few years older than her, maybe sixteen – she murmured in exchanged, "Hiyori. "Indeed her vision was no longer blurry and though she sniffled periodically, she could breathe normally without her voice catching on a rising choke.

He smiled again and her heart caught.

At the start of Fall, Hiyori had found her first love.

A/N: I consider adding an additional chapter to this small one-shot but reflecting on how quickly I publish stories at this point (snail's pace all the way), I might just leave the ending here. It's a sweet nonsensical story that I've had for a while and decided to share on a spontaneous decision. I do adore Natsume, though his appearance is brief; he alone might convince me enough to tack on the second part. c: