Disclaimer: I do not own Angel Beats. Or any other anime for that matter. So there.
"My story's not even that sad, so don't worry about it,"
Why was that all he ever said?
"Don't worry about it,"
How could she not? He was a member of the BattleFront, so she was going to worry.
"Don't worry about it,"
But she did. She did worry. She worried his death was worse than her own. She worried that he was faking that infuriatingly stupid smile, and she worried underneath it was a hellish reality where he was forced to weep without ever knowing if anyone could hear him.
"Don't worry about it,"
But what could she do? He refused to expose his past to anyone, not even her. Why did he refuse to let anyone help him?!
"Don't worry about it,"
What else could she do?! He made it impossible not to worry!
"Don't worry about it,"
She had come to respect the fact he kept everything a secret, but she had also come to hate it. She just wanted to help him...why didn't he want her to?
A cold night breeze snapped her out of her thoughts. A bigger, more masculine hand wrapped around her small one and squeezed gently. She looked up at the owner then looked back down at the perfect view. The concrete bridge was somewhere she escaped to every night, somewhere she could find comfort.
All of a sudden, two arms wrapped themselves around her body, and she could do nothing but stare into the owner's chest with wide eyes.
"Yuripee," his voice tickled her ear as it was whispered softly. Noda leaned in a little more.
"Don't worry about it."