Red.
What an annoying color.
It's loud and in your face.
No subtlety at all.
Of course, he thinks, she's never been one to beat around the bush
or run off with her tail between her legs.
He recalls her words that day that he attempted to intimidate her
in the nurse's office.
"This isn't over!" she had yelled as he walked away
eliciting a secret smile.
It's a cheerful color when paired up with other hues.
She always seems to be happiest when she's playing
her violin with her friends. Whether it's Shoko, Hihara, or even Len.
Even him.
And then he remembers how passionate and energetic
the color red is.
When she plays, the emotion is almost palpable. And the dedication
she puts into a new piece, hours and hours on the roof-top...
Warm. The way she smiles at Len when he offers to help her
with an especially difficult passage.
Something unpleasant tightens inside of him and he wishes
she would smile like that at him.
An angry color.
The way she looks at him when he says something especially
out of line is enough to make him wish he could take it back.
And then a warning.
The color, bright as a flashing stop sign, reminding him
she's not yours, you can't have her, it can't happen.
It makes him think of blood. But in an unusual way.
Necessary to function, providing oxygen to the body,
a vital component that ensures one remains alive.
And he wonders, when did she become that vital to him?