Shizuku stared at the giant bell hanging silently before her, discerning life's secrets in its scratched and grainy texture. Or so that was the impression she was trying to give to her partner in crime, who was currently far too close to the edge of the tower than the smaller girl's heart could handle. Perhaps if she looked more interested in the ancient bell, Hitsugi wouldn't drag her over to appreciate the view.

She was quite sure they weren't supposed to be here in the first place. The red sticker on the door to the stairwell declaring rather loudly that only restricted personnel were allowed past that point had been an unmistakable warning. Karma might decide that a fitting punishment would be a gentle push off the edge with a retributive burst of wind, and she'd had enough brushes with death to be very certain that she didn't want to die yet.

"Shizuuuuukuuuu. What's so interesting about that old bell?" Hitsugi whined, upset that the incredible view she was trying to show off was being ignored.

"It's really big. I've never seen one like this up close." She took a few steps back, forgetting her fear. "It's taller than both of us combined."

"Well, you're so short..."

"I'm not!"

"Mom says it's really old." She shared after she stopped snickering. Shizuku was so much fun to tease. "They don't ring it though, 'cause it broke a long time ago."

Shizuku frowned. "And no one ever fixed it?" She laid a hand on the cool metal, gently trying to push it. It didn't budge. It was heavy.

"I guess not. It isn't really that important, is it? There isn't even a clock or anything." She scratched at her chin, not following. It was just a bell, after all, and they'd come up here to look at the view.

"It's kind of sad, isn't it? It can't even do its job." Caught up in her now real interest in the bell, she tried to push it again with her hand, a little harder this time.

Hitsugi watched this all with amused bemusement. She enjoyed when Shizuku did odd things, but that didn't make the girl's motives any less confusing.

Silently observing the bell herself, she tried to see what her friend saw. The bell was obviously old. It had lots of scratches, but no major dents. It must have been so sturdy that nothing had ever managed to scar it, and it gained her respect for that. It seemed dignified to her. Dignified in simplicity, she amended, observing the lack of engravings or designs. She had never payed much attention to the sound it made, but it must have been the same kind of deep, full-toned ring of any other bell.

If she were to give it a personality, she would say it was the type that did its job to the fullest, and then quietly waited until it was needed again. And lonely. Other places had two bells, or more. There weren't even any other bells in the whole area, but this one sat, broken, alone, and waiting.

She ignored the uncomfortable feeling that it kind of reminded her of Shizuku, because Shizuku definitely wasn't broken, and she couldn't have been lonely. They had each other, didn't they?

"Hmmmmm. That is sad. People should not be kept from their life duties!"

"Uh, are you talking about the bell?"

"We'll make a vow! One day you shall share its joyous sound with the world!"

"Why are you making a vow for me?"

"With your fists!"

"I don't want to do that!"

"It's a vow Shizuku. You can't break a promise!"

"I didn't promise anything! You did!"

"Oh, there's my mom. We better go soon."

Hitsugi scrambled off, inordinately pleased with her brilliant idea (and for making Shizuku turn red). Shizuku followed, mouth twisted in resignation. There was no arguing with the older girl when she was like that. That usually made it worse, she had learned over time.

Stopping at the edge of the stairs, she quickly walked back over to the bell. Without thinking, she took a deep breath, and punched it.

She swore she saw it move this time, but it could have easily been her imagination. The wind blew and there was a soft whistle in the air. She tried not to feel as though the bell was laughing at her weak efforts. Her friend's attitude must be rubbing off on her if she was feeling challenged by an inanimate object.

Rubbing her aching hand, she swallowed the pain and left before she had any more dumb ideas. If she was already punching bells, who knew what else would happen if she didn't kill this disease before it took root?

Witnessing the far too pleased grin spread as its owner caught sight of her, she decided she didn't want to know. She'd ask her mother later if there was a cure for weirdness, or at least an antidote.

~End~

Sooooo I've technically had this on my hard drive for...a while now. I'd forgotten about it, really, but I was being bugged about writing and decided to look through my stuff to see what I can finish off real quick. Sorry it isn't longer, but holidays are a busy season for retail.