So after I heard this song, and after I screamed and freaked out for a good thirty minutes or so, I thought, "Hey, I should write something for this." So two fanfics two days in a row, I guess? That's a record, I know. If you haven't seen the song, I recommend you do so, because it's both catchy and visually pleasing! And you'll understand this better, aha.
Kagerou Project belongs to Jin and "Tokyo Summer Session" belongs to Honeyworks.
"Hey." Takane's averted eyes pulled away from the night sky to look at the boy, and seeing him in his own getup startled her a bit. No, she didn't jump or anything; her heart did a backflip inside of her chest, breathe stupidly taken back for a few seconds. It was only Haruka that could do this to her, and she was both glad and infuriated over that fact.
"Hey!" He stood a few inches in front of her, that endearing smile of his adorning his face, the light from hanging lanterns outlining the shape of his body rather nicely. (Why am I paying so much attention to such a thing?!) "You look nice, Takane!"
"Eh?!" Forgetting what she had on (or maybe just for reassurance), she looks down to see the blue yukata she'd worn specifically for today (brought to her by her grandmother, bless her soul), a rare outfit for the girl to wear. There were triangle patterns on the ends of the long sleeves and the skirt, and admittedly, learning how to walk in it took a bit of time. She hadn't worn one – or been to festivals, period – in such a long time that this sort of get-up felt new to her. "Thanks, I guess…I could say the same for you."
(Just saying that out loud about his yukata – or his face? – is so humiliating...)
"Seriously? But this thing's so old!" He laughed with that hearty laugh of his, and once more she lost count of her heart rate. She played with the ends of her sleeves as he continued, visage probably red as expected. Sincerity in his voice, he asks, "How are you feeling, Takane? I feel like they forced you to come with me, and I don't want to you to feel uncomfortable…"
"I'm fine," she replied quickly, probably faster than what she'd expected. Maybe it's because she didn't process her response, or maybe it's because she didn't want him to worry. No, no, she didn't mind going with him at all; if it weren't for his proposal to go to the festival in the first place (pushed by Shintaro and Ayano), she'd most likely be at home, playing "Dead Bullet" until dawn peeked through her blinds. "It's alright, Haruka. I wouldn't mind coming if it's with you."
Oh god. She just said that. Her hands find her face, mind racing after realizing just how…how…how sentimental that sounded. Her eyes, already tired and slightly overwhelmed, look at everything but Haruka. But before she could make up some dumb excuse, or before she could call him an idiot, he breaks through her thoughts with saying, "Really? I'm glad to hear that!"
"We should probably get going…" Without looking at the boy, she turns and makes her way into the line of stalls, knowing he'd follow right behind her.
"I heard that there's going to be a firework display at the festival!" Mary exclaimed, practically leaping out of the couch as she told Seto. He'd just come back from work, and the flyer that Kano had handed her (with a wink, she would add) crumpled under her fingers. "Can we go, can we?"
"I'm real sorry, Mary," he began, hand rubbing the back of his head. He hated doing this to her, especially after seeing that (cute) sparkle in her eyes and her (cute) enthusiasm over the festival. "I have work that evening."
"Aw, really…?" And seeing that (cute) face of hers fall out of disappointment absolutely crushed him. He felt it, he really did. "I guess I'll have to find someone else to go with me. Maybe Kido or Kano…"
No, he wasn't going to let that second option happen. It'd end badly, and with Mary scarred for life. He wouldn't mind comforting her after that happens, but he wouldn't mind having that not happen in the first place, for Mary's sake. Stuttering, he replied, "M – maybe I can ask my boss to change my shift tomorrow! Is that alright?"
"I'm kind of thirsty…" Ayano mused, looking at the stalls with curiosity lingering in her movement. Despite it being summer, and despite wearing a red yukata that really did suit her (unlike him, because he hadn't worn his own in a long time), that idiotic girl decided to keep that scarf of hers wrapped around her neck. It made Shintaro hot just staring at it.
Looking down at the can of soda in his hand, he wills his muscles to hold it in front of her, blushing slightly at the action. (Even though she was the one that asked me to come to the festival with her, I'm still looking out for her.) "Here, you can have some of this. Notice how I said 'some', because I'd like some more after you're done."
His love for soda was not to be doubted.
"Oh, thank you, but…" She looks down at the can, at Shintaro, back to the can, and then back at him once more before replying. "Isn't that…an indirect kiss?"
"You know about that…?"
She takes the can slowly, shades of pink appearing on her cheeks (and he secretly hoped it wasn't the light playing tricks on him). With a small smile, she goes, "Yeah, I know about that."
I want to hold his hand.
The thought wavers in her mind, although she keeps her hands behind her back. She eyes the said feature with a bit of yearning, and for a moment she wondered why she was so fixated on such a trivial action. Their shoulders were almost touching, anyway, wasn't that close enough?
This distance between us just keeps getting closer…agh, all of this is really messing with my head!
And so she keeps her hands in their place, hiding their longing and placing her gaze at the stalls besides them. There was food, games, and activities – just watching could keep her busy from the lingering desire in her brain.
(I saw you looking, Takane; could you possibly want the same thing?)
"Do you notice something different, Seto?"
"Hm?" Having worked earlier in the day, he was now accompanying Mary in the festival, a bit taken back by all the…well, festivities. There was a lot going on, and he wondered if Mary would drag him to all of it. It's not as if he has a choice, and even then, he could care less about it as long as she was having fun. "No, I don't…?"
She puffs her cheeks as she picks up a hefty wad of her hair, pointing to the ends. He squinted, but he couldn't tell the difference. He was a bad boyfr – friend. A bad friend. Not the other thing. Nope, what sort of fantasies were those?
"I made my hair cleaner for today!" The way she said such a thing pulled on his heartstrings, her excitement towards such a detail enough to make him crack a smile.
"I see, I see. It's pretty!"
"I'm kind of hungry," Shintaro muttered, looking at the food stalls with a bit of envy. Unfortunately, he spent his money on soda; now he was broke, and his stomach was grumbling.
"Hmm?" Ayano, noticing her companion's (close one!) plight, let a grin cross her face, an item clutched behind her back. She was glad he hadn't noticed that she'd gone off to buy something – besides, he was occupied with buying his drink. "Really now?"
"Yeah, really." He rolled his eyes, about ready to just leave. It was way too crowded, anyway, and he didn't like that. He'd rather be at home on his computer, watching that anime that had aired today and talking about it on chat forums. Maybe he'll catch up on that (shoujo) manga –
"Shintaro!" She pulled on the sleeves of his yukata, laughing as he turned his gaze towards the girl. She held up a bag of – is she serious?! – cookies, showing the appearance of handmade ones, too. "For you!"
"In summer?" That question was just bad.
"In summer!"
"You're seriously too much…" He wasn't one for sweets, but these tasted decent.
She hadn't realized that her hand stretched out to the boy's until her fingers were mere centimeters from his own, and her face twisted to one of shock at the sight. What made her even more horrified was that she didn't pull away right away; she left her hand hovering in its place for a few seconds, at a loss for what to do.
She shoots a glance up at Haruka's face, breathing out a sigh of relief when she saw that he wasn't looking. The feeling of wanting to hold him – his hand, she corrected herself – overcame her, it seemed, and it pressed itself against her chest, as if telling her to do it.
No, shut up, it's stupid! He'll just pull away anyway, because I'm so terrible!
(But what if he doesn't?)
Out of pressure (Fine, maybe this'll prove me wrong!), she grabs the cuff of his sleeve instead, surprising both herself and the boy. Oh, she felt the regret settle in now – it was a sickly and awful, and sleep deprivation wasn't even a part of it.
What was she thinking, not saying anything? Feeling the fabric slip away, she stammered, "I – I'm sorry – "
"No, it's fine!" He said, flashing her a smile she most definitely didn't deserve. She wondered what he really thought of such an impulsive action, but even then, she didn't let go; instead, she held on tighter, as if his sleeve – him – became a part of her life. "It's okay, because now you won't get lost!"
"It's pretty, isn't it?" Ayano's eyes lit up like the fireworks in the sky, smile twinkling as the stars that provided a backdrop to the show. "It's pink, and then yellow, and then red – "
"What, are pink and yellow the color of heroes, too?" He joked, although his face continued to remain emotionless. It's what she knows me for – apathetic, not-so-much-fun, why-did-you-even-drag-me-out-here Shintaro Kisaragi. He had to admit that the fireworks were a rather nice sight, but that was from someone who didn't really go to festivals in the first place. "I guess they're alright."
They sat on a bench on top of a hill, looking down at the festival at a great angle. The lantern lights twinkled, but the noise was near muffled, leaving them with peace and quiet. That was a good thing, because Shintaro could practically hear some ringing in his ears.
On the bridge, a twin-tailed girl and her "friend" looked up at the sky, the boy pointing out all the colors as fast as his artistic mind could process, and the girl smiling slightly at how fascinated he was (and, okay, how adorable his face was when he talked about it). Their shoulders touched, but not their hands.
Below them, amongst moss and rocks, although not quite in the river, a boy and his medusa sat and marveled at the sight. Having only seen the fireworks from the treetops, the medusa's eyes widened at seeing them up-close and personal, the boy smiling ear-to-ear knowing that this was worth the change of schedule.
(Stop the time; I don't want to go home today.)
"I kind of like this," the girl said, loud enough for only the boy to hear.
"I kind of like this, too."
Bravely he placed his hand on top of hers, which had been on the bench for as long as he could recall. Immediately he felt the warmth on his face, and he used his spare hand to hide his embarrassment. Way to go, Shintaro, you made yourself look like a creep...
Her fingers curled around his, and the fireworks seemed much brighter.