AN: Check my profile for update schedule changes. Enjoy.
Let Me Be
1
It was only a glance, but when her eyes caught on this golden flare off in the corner of her vision she found it in herself to stop, there in the middle of the sidewalk, and focus – really focus on him. The flush on his cheeks was nearly as bright as his hair as he stood there looking through the store display window, mouth slightly open and hand raised just enough that it looked like he was contemplating waving. But she didn't know him and he didn't know her, so after a moment she readjusted the bag over her shoulder, pulled up the scarf around her neck, and continued on down the street.
But he was there the next day and the day after that, and soon he really was waving. It was barely a twist of the wrist at first, hesitant and nervous and yet unmistakable. In time it grew to an enthusiastic gesture that moved through his entire body, his hand cutting back and forth through the air so rapidly that the people next to him had to duck. She never waved back, it was tiring and she didn't really know him, but there was a tilt to her lips that bordered on a smile and he would grin so wide when their eyes would catch that she thought his cheeks were actually stuck like that.
She had hoped that it would remain like this, for his sake and for her own, but one day, after his hand had settled and a rather large breath left his body that looked like he was gathering courage, he quickly darted from the store window to the door, the bells ringing loudly due to the force in which he threw it open, and not a moment later he found himself in front of her.
He was tall, the top of her head just short of clearing his broad shoulders, but it gave her the excuse not to look him in the eye so she didn't mind.
"Hey," he greeted cautiously, nervously rubbing his neck. His breath came out in clouds, and she couldn't tell whether or not the flush fanning across his cheeks was the result of the weather or her.
"Hi," she responded, softly and somewhat reserved, and she shrunk back into the scarf around her neck.
"You're beautiful."
He was smiling when she looked up, broadly, the rose colored blush spreading out over his cheeks and to his ears. She wanted to tell him he was too, in his own way, but all that came out was, "Thanks."
And she smiled, really smiled, as she tilted her head back down to bury the bottom half of her face in the soft cotton fabric. It brought back memories, the last of the colorful ones of her and her brother trapped in that spare bedroom at the apartment, and how at the time – in their naivety – things were still beautiful.
"Uh, I'm Mikoshiba by the way. Mikoshiba Seijuurou."
But she didn't want to be Gou anymore, not when she looked at him, all smiles and red noses and eager hands. It made her restless, anxious, and she wanted to bury it all, hide it under a camouflage of starry eyes and warm hands. She didn't want to be like this, she didn't want to be Gou anymore.
"Kou," she said shakily. "My name's Kou."
A puff of breath escaped his lungs, the nervousness melting from his limbs and he smiled once more, the skin near his eyes crinkling in delight. "Your name is beautiful too."
She didn't want to be Gou anymore.