A/N: I've had this little story (and its sequel) for years now, but I decided to bring it out from the stash of SatoRisa stories I've harboured in secret, because a dear little fan of mine (and the sister of a good friend) has a birthday to-day. Happy birthday, Kitten-chan, and I hope you enjoy my shameless dabbling into fluff.
Disclaimer: Only the idea, and the birthday wishes.
Filamentous Biomaterial Can Be Distracting
Like wisps of silk, the strands slid over his chilled fingers, skimming feathery caresses over his skin. Their edges, catching the pale winter sunlight, shimmered a honey gold instead of their familiar soft brown, and his mind strayed once more from his task to indulge in wondering what scent clung to the strands.
His jaw tensed as he inwardly chided himself for his distraction, and he focused again on removing the moist dirt and bits of dead leaves, regardless of how the tresses slipped over his hands or billowed with the idle toying of the wind.
"Did you get it all out, Hiwatari-kun?" Harada-san asked, tipping a fraction from one side to the other as she tried to subtly vent her impatience.
"Your hair picked up a good deal of dirt from your fall, Harada-san," he replied, voice blank and steady still, for not all of his willpower had abandoned him, though that victory held small consolation. To become agitated over touching dead protein, mere filamentous biomaterial, defied all logic, since he had handled materials softer, had painted with colours more luscious, than the brown hair entwined about his fingers. Yet every effort to combat his weakness with logic came to naught; he reacted to each touch without fail because, however irrational the cause, the hair was hers, and he could not convince himself to end his singular indulgence. Even the threat presented by Krad did not deter him, for the parasitical monster desired to maintain anonymity which forced him to avoid revealing himself more than necessary.
Still, with the slightest inclination, Krad could emerge without a struggle, exploiting his tamer's vulnerability, to wreak havoc as he saw fit. He remained dormant, however, ignoring the chance to oppose the aberration he witnessed.
Though disquieted by Krad's behaviour, Satoshi could not dissuade himself from lingering a little while longer over his folly.
"Harada-san."
Her name left his lips before he could catch himself and abandon the idea—an impulsive, dangerous, childish idea—that had seized him. To toy with fire, to ignore the threat of his curse even for a moment, risked more than simply himself in the grand scheme, but still his mind could not seem to grasp reason or sanity. Logic failed him when he needed its help the most.
As he hesitated, she tilted her head back toward him and caught his gaze with her own, ignorant of his thoughts. "What is it?"
Though he acknowledged her right to slap him if he confessed his full reason, the possible vengeance did not discourage him any more than had his logic.
"I need to let your hair down to finish," he said, then tugged at the askew ribbon before she could gainsay him.
An unexpected tremor shook his hand as he loosened the knot, but with a flick of his wrist, he freed the top layer of hair and passed the ribbon to her. He fit his palms beneath her tresses at the nape, then glided his hands along the underside of her hair, allowing himself for one second to forget everything beyond the vitalizing touch.
Once the last few strands had slipped from his fingers, he resumed his task of plucking out the final bits of debris, then announced, "I believe I am finished."
Before she had the chance to step away, he fit his hand under her hair again and splayed his fingers through its glossy fullness, combing gently as he lifted the tresses from her slender neck for a fleeting second, his head lowering.
Innocent yet of his intentions, she took a few steps away and whisked her hair back, expertly tying the ribbon once more in its proper place. "Thank you for your help, Hiwatari-kun." Dropping her arms back to her sides, she flashed him a charming smile, then bounded off to the group of their classmates, who had not noticed the disappearance of the two.
From the start, the other students had failed to realize that Harada-san had sneaked off for a closer look at a nearby grove of trees and how he had trailed along behind to keep an eye on her. Indeed, they had entirely missed her embarrassing tumble down a little incline, which had resulted in flecks of wood and leaves,some clumps of dirt, and chips of snow speckled over her hair.
As he strolled back toward the unobservant crowd, a soft smile twitched across his mouth. Had she not fallen, unseen by their peers, he never would have known:
It smelled as beautiful as it looked.