The breeze tugged at Utau's blonde hair. She'd wrapped up recording for the day and didn't really know where her feet were taking her, but the weather was nice and she needed the exercise after standing in the recording studio all day. To her right, she heard the clatter of wheels on pavement. She turned towards the source, curious, and blinked in surprise as a boy with a mop of auburn hair leaped off and jogged towards her, a skateboard tucked under his right arm.
"Fancy seeing you here." Kukai grinned at her as he took off his helmet, his hair flattened at the top.
Utau looked at him disinterestedly. "Kukai," she greeted politely.
"Aw, why so serious?" Kukai prodded, shifting his grip on his skateboard. "Rough day?"
Her lips curled slightly at the corners; Kukai's jocular nature was infectious. "No, today's been great. I was just taking a walk since I'm done recording for the day."
"Ah." Kukai fell into step beside her and pretended not to notice when she raised an eyebrow. "I've been trying out tricks on my new skateboard." He rapped the board affectionately.
Utau examined it out of the corner of her eye. It was a nice board, some kind of etched design swirling along the belly. The wheels were already gritty from Kukai's practice, and Utau could tell by the way he cradled it close to him that the board had probably been a gift.
"Can I…" she reached towards it timidly, then shook her head. Why was she acting shy? She was older than him. She cleared her throat. "Could I try?"
Kukai looked surprised for a brief moment but quickly adopted a delighted smile. He set the board down in front of her with a flourish. "My lady."
Utau rolled her eyes. She set one foot in the center of the board gingerly, testing her weight. She'd never ridden a skateboard before, but she'd seen enough people do it down by the park—how hard could it be? Kukai stood watching with an amused glint in his eye, which made Utau all the more determined to succeed.
She bent her knees and pushed off, gathering speed, before bringing her right foot behind her onto the board and extending her arms for balance. The breeze fanned her face. Utau grinned. It wasn't so hard, and she turned to grin over her shoulder at Kukai. The exhilaration was short-lived. The board hit a bump and she flailed, trying to right herself and failing. Utau closed her eyes and braced for impact.
Instead, she was jerked upwards, her nose almost brushing Kukai's as he pulled her up.
"Not so fast," he smiled, pulling away and bending to pick up his skateboard. "Maybe we should take this slow. I'll take you through the basics."
Utau's cheeks flamed from embarrassment and she looked away. "Forget it," she mumbled. "I'm not interested anymore."
"Come on, don't be a quitter," teased Kukai.
Utau's purple eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm not a quitter," she said, raising her chin in defiance.
Kukai inclined his head as if to say, Well, then? He held out a hand and gestured for her to board the skateboard again.
She took his hand grudgingly. Once she'd mounted it and stood, albeit unsteadily, he handed her his helmet.
Utau stared at him, sighed loudly, and took it. She let go of his hand quickly to buckle the straps before taking his hands again, gingerly.
"Now press your weight a little bit forward, more on your left foot," he instructed. The skateboard began moving slowly.
"This is boring," Utau grumbled.
Kukai raised an eyebrow. "Do you always have to get everything perfectly right away?" he inquired.
Utau opened her mouth to say something scathing in reply, but thought better of it. He didn't know anything. He was just a kid. "It'd be nice," Utau answered instead.
Kukai gave her a look—not the teasing, friendly one he so often had, but one of understanding. Utau flushed slightly and looked away. Impossible. He couldn't understand. He didn't know what it felt like to…to never be good enough, to sing the same words over and over in front of a panel who always had something to say—it's not the right pitch. You're off-key. You're slurring the words. There was no way—
"Hey." A sudden pressure on her hand startled her, and she glanced down to see Kukai had squeezed her hand to catch her attention. "We're gonna go faster now, okay?"
"Hm," she grumbled, but didn't object. Kukai tugged her along. The skateboard picked up a little bit of speed. An image of herself flying off the skateboard and bloodying her knees flashed in front of Utau's eyes. "Kukai," she warned, "on second thought, I'm not sure this is a good idea."
"What are you afraid of? I'm right here," Kukai chuckled.
Utau glared at him. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
Kukai drew back in mock-anger. "Thanks for your vote of confidence, Popstar."
She overlooked his use of a nickname and turned her attention back to the task at hand. Her eyes picked up a ridge in the sidewalk, where the squares weren't level and one was raised higher than the other.
"Kukai," she started, panicking, "the bump. How do I stop? Kukai! I'm going to hit the bump! Help!" she yelped. She jumped off the skateboard. Without her weight, it shot forward before finally hitting a rock and coming to a stop. Kukai ran forward to retrieve it, inspecting it before loping back over to her.
Utau brushed off her shorts, muttering to herself. "I knew that was a bad idea," she said, rounding on Kukai the minute he came to a stop in front of her.
"You dented my skateboard," he frowned, holding the skateboard out to her.
Utau looked at him stubbornly. "It wasn't my fault," she insisted. "I don't know how to stop on a skateboard. It's not like your skateboard's hurt or anything."
"I just got it today!" protested Kukai. Utau felt a terrible sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't have…she hadn't meant to…it was just a skateboard, it couldn't mean that much to him, could it? But still, if she hadn't recklessly decided to ask him to try it in the first place, the whole mess might never have happened. She unbuckled the helmet and clenched her fingers into fists, the strap digging into her palm.
Feeling slightly guilty, she sighed, blowing some flyaway strands of hair out of her face. Utau tiptoed over to peer around Kukai, inspecting the side of the skateboard he presented to her.
"There's nothing there!" she said when she finally got a look at it. From out of nowhere came Kukai's fist—he nudged the side of her head lightly with it.
"I know. I was just teasing you," he grinned.
She scowled at him, rubbing the spot where he'd playfully nudged her and tried to quash the annoying tingling feeling left in its place. Kukai tilted his head slightly as he waited for her to speak. He ran a hand through his hair, making it spike up all over the place. He was taller than her, Utau realized, a fact she'd never noticed but picked up on now, due to their proximity. His green eyes flashed in the sunlight, mischievous but inviting as he stared her down. Her breath hitched. There was something so easy about the way he threw his head back and crinkled his eyes when he laughed, the way his hair fell messily in this annoying but endearing way, and—
He was just a boy.
"You're such a kid," she said, stepping back and concentrating on a crack in the sidewalk. Anywhere but him.
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
"It is," said Utau heatedly, clenching her fists once more. "I mean, how can you be so happy all the time? Don't you know that life's a lot tougher than that and it's not all fun and games?"
Kukai stared at her, hard, a cloud passing over his grass-green eyes. "I know that, Utau. But sometimes being cheerful and happy is the only way to get through life."
Maybe it was the way he said it that made him look older, standing there framed by the sky. Or maybe it was the way he looked at her, as if he was letting her know that he was there and not as clueless as she made him out to be. Maybe it was the way he always seemed to bring life to everything—challenging her to ramen-eating contests, teaching her how to skateboard, laughing and nudging her in the side. It drove her crazy, but she realized then that she was very, very grateful for it—for him and whatever stupid magic he worked on her heartstrings when he was around.
Whatever it was, something made her kiss him.
His eyelashes fluttered when she pulled back—they were long, she thought. Innocent. He stared at her as if seeing her for the first time.
"What…" he croaked, startled and speechless.
"Consider it a gift," she muttered, and watched as his features were transformed back into that look of barely suppressed joy—the familiar look of his, and one that was starting to grow on her.
"It's a good one," he managed, trying for a poker face and failing. She handed him back his helmet and smiled faintly.
"You'd better get going, kid," she said, this time affectionately.
He smiled and saluted her, mounting his skateboard and riding off, the wheels beating an easy rhythm against the ground.
She watched him go before turning around and beginning the walk back. He certainly wasn't anywhere near a knight on a white horse, but he was good enough.
Utau touched her lips and smiled faintly.
Maybe more than just "good enough."
A/N: Erm, so...yeah. This is my first Shugo Chara! fic, so input would be much appreciated! I guess this doesn't really fit into the manga/anime storyline, but the idea popped into my head so I had to write it down. Thoughts, please. :)