OF GHOSTS
It's times like these when Yomako-sensei sits back on her chair of her desk and fingers the blurry faces of her textbooks. The tips of her nails trail around the familiar angles of Leeron's science and inventions; run swirls around Simon, the Digger's tools and Lagann's drills. They rest on Kamina's grin and sometimes rise up with his statue's pointing finger, following him up into the skies and falling off the top of the page. Yoko's page is untouched; Yomako skips it. Rossiu, sometimes she draws a smile around to cheer him up and rubs the crease between his eyebrows to clear the inevitable wrinkles, if she doesn't forget. She sketches swirls and hearts around Gimmy and Darry, sometimes she laughs, they used to be so like her kids. Makken, Jougan, Barinbou and all who ever once was all get a playful grin and, at other times, a grieving sigh. After the latter, she reminds herself that Ritona was never a stranger to death.
The last page she's recently started avoiding, it's embarrassing. She tells herself that it's because the pages are stuck together, hard to open. It's an ugly page, dirty, and the text book is smelly and the spine barely holds the pages together, what if it falls out? Yomako shakes the Yoko out of her hair, out of mind, bites her frown and decides to spend the rest of the day out: and Kittan is left alone, his page stuck to the others by a puddle of dried tears.
note: I wrote this little blurb a long time ago on a whim, but whatever. I don't write much, so might as well post it. :)
pairing: kittan/yoko (I guess??)