Huloo! This is my first time to write for what I truly held as the reason for writing here and I'm just so glad about it. I do wish you'll enjoy this fic. Haha. I'm so excited and I mean it! ^o^
Disclaimer: I do not own Kurama and Shiori and not even any of their friends. I only own Anikka in here. :D
Over The Rose
by four-eyed 0-0
PROLOGUE
The sun was just bidding its apparent and ritual farewell to this side of the world and amongst the familiar daily pedestrians crowding the streets along the few vehicles on this certain street of the city was a young woman nobody knew the name of. Against the subtle spring breeze stray locks of her long, wavy hair of the shade of the brown of oak bark softly swung and eyes of the same dark brown darted at all directions. She could be any ordinary high school student, except that the school year had not yet begun since it had just been concluded three weeks ago, and that this lady carried not a book bag but a huge backpack on one shoulder, her opposite hand dragging a large suitcase and with the same shoulder, a long cloth case enclosed either one or two rounded objects which were just as long.
She had just gone from a very tiring ride and despite the utter heaviness of what she was carrying, her face bore no sign of exhaustion. It was nothing but emotionless, empty. There was that certain impression she gave off that she was accustomed to many sorts of adversities that this luggage that commonly make a person double up could not even make a muscle twitch an alien twitch.
Deciding to halt and hover by the corner of a block, she took a folded piece of paper from the pocket of her navy-blue jacket, unfurled it, and read, her orbs swiftly lingering over whatever was written on it. After this, she folded it once more and put it back where she took it. Tossing her long hair back over her shoulders, she hauled the suitcase smoothly and started walking once more.
Two blocks from where she rounded the corner she first rested at, a deserted house sat, the one that had been abandoned for several months now. The newcomer gazed at the wooden gate and pushed it gently. Once inside the front yard, she turned her neck around to study the greeneries that were full of life. Several cherry blossom trees in proud upholstering of their blooms seemed to draw the edges of her lips to a thin smile that lasted in a fraction of a second. As she observed, pacing around the small lot, other bushes and shrubs grew around the hedges and as well a mulberry tree stood by a corner of the backyard. Denoting the unbelievable cleanliness of the months-deserted house and finally deciding to come inside the house, she reached for the keys in the pocket of her jacket and unlocked and slid open the front door leading to an equally-clean hall. Bare, but yes, clean.
Taking her shoes off and placing them on the rack, she warily looked around and upon hearing the quietest scratches dropped the backpack with which the contents tinkled gently at her careful gesture. She then grabbed the long cloth case fastened from across her right shoulder and revealed indeed rounded objects which turned out to be glazed wooden sticks. Spinning them shortly with each hand, she stepped on the wooden floor and started toward the door that she supposed was where the sound came.
She slid open the door.
"Welcome — "
The persons in front of her stuttered and shut their mouths at her sudden stance, wooden sticks held in the air, ready for any necessity of an attack or defense. Seeming to realize that they were neighbors, she stood up straight and placed her hands behind her back fast. She bowed low, giving the strangers another view of her sticks.
When she was back to her stiff yet straight standing position, she faced the audience and uttered seriously and uninterestedly, "I am sorry for having caused a diversion of your cause in coming."
The two persons who were still transfixed seemed to be awoken and cast glances at each other before the dark-haired woman cleared her throat and said, smiling, "Oh, it's all right, dear, it's all right." She seemed too pleased to even bother. She actually rushed to her and took her hands in her own, crinkly ones, so that her sticks were stuck oddly between their joined hands.
The younger of the two smiled crookedly, as though doing so took her an effort greater than carrying ton-weighing luggage. "Thank you," she replied, again in her cold tone.
The redhead who had been staring at her with mild interest made his way to them and smiled genuinely at her. With a voice ever so cool, he said, "Welcome to the neighborhood, Mizokuchi-san." He lent a hand.
Anikka Mizokuchi never liked being offered a hand. She despised acquaintances and social circles. She never fancied being involved in anything with anyone. Especially boys. And men. Except for her father, of course.
But this redhead was the first to offer his hand and he hopefully was the last she would have to be friendly with in this new place she would be living in.
She took the outstretched hand which she peered long enough at to finally do so. And as their palms met, she was so sure his eyes glowed golden, very different from the emeralds that they were. Their gazes met and she was convinced that he himself felt that strange tingling that lingered for a fleeting second the moment their hands closed over each other. Anikka, the cold and unfeeling, knew perfectly well sensations that did nothing with the solitary knot of muscles in a person's chest. For years, she knew what it felt like when there was something about to come. And it was actually this ominous perception that warned her.
As she had seen him, this redhead really was someone to be wary of.
A/N: I know it's too short, but I do promise I'll have the next chapters at least three-hundred words longer or even more. It's still the prologue, anyway. I'll update soon! :)
Can you see a disturbing error in there? Kick that button and let me know! Thank You!
~four-eyed 0-0