For Spikesagitta. Sorry, I don't think I got your happy ending. I like writing girls but I don't think I'm all too good with their characterization. Writing yuri is really fun though.
This was actually written with conic sections in mind so if someone gets how it ties into algebra then they get a cookie.
Paring: K96 (KyokoChrome)
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1.
Light flickers through whithered red leaves of autumn, swift and silent like the shadowing flaps of morning bird wings on sunset skys. Through cracked, dusted windows it filters into grey, becoming and inverted and colorless rainbow on her pale, sleeping face. Her hair is spread out in ribbons of silk on the old wood floor, barely covering her patch- less eye. She stirs, pulling her ragged, threadbare blanket tighter and tighter around her.
Liquid light slides gently down the window pain creating thin streaks of sun as it nears the precipice, the end. The splash is quiet but that small sound is amplified in the echoing cavernous theater and it enters her mind mind as a rainy dream on roofs of tin. Her eyelids flutter open only to close quickly in the vain hope of returning to a warm world made of her mind's illusions. But sleep will not take her back anymore and she is forced to stare into the suns brilliant reflections on the shimmering gold of the air.
A pale hand rests on the plush yellowed white of an old futon and she pulls herself up to the day.
"Ken?" she calls lightly "Chikusa?"
Her words spread and come back to her warbled in an empty reply. They have left already and it is only the soft breathing in the far reaches of her mind that tells her that she is not alone. He has been sleeping more ever since their battle, their win. Some part of her once found it odd, that he would go to such lengths for this boy who is barely older than herself while Mukuro has live longer than time permits most of its people, However in knowing him she has come to understand.
Thoughts of her young boss cause her eyes to shift over from the rotting theater to the slowly turning watch hands. It's getting too late for her to still be here and Chrome quickly sits up, fighting the momentary dizziness, and reaches up to her sun warmed uniform.
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Hot pearl steam slowly swirls up into the clear blue heavens from her small gold colored cup as she leans back into one of the tall black metal chairs. The outdoor cafe is filled with all the noise of Namimori yet for her there is only one voice, only one bell-like laugh. For now this is Chrome's job, to protect, defend, be the silent onlooker. Chrome watches her across the grey expanse of chair littered sidewalk. There is always a crowd of people around her, drawing a smile on her face and lighting up her orbs.
Their eyes meet as she sips her tea and her lips curve once again into a small heart stopping smile.
Her name is Sasagawa Kyoko and Chrome thinks she is beautiful.
2.
The first time they ever talk is at the wedding.
Chrome sits nervously in the large ball room as people bustle about and find pleasure in light conversation and dark swirling spirits. She feels out of place at this lively party and despite the warm atmosphere a shiver travels through her dark wine clothed body.
"Are you cold?" the voice, light as a feathered cloud and as smooth as honeyed silk, brings a memory of days when she would sit with her rapidly cooling coffee and listen for that same beautiful sound. Chrome turns to gaze into warm pools of melted chocolate and feels herself melting as well.
"Hello, Chrome-san right?"
"Yes Sasagawa-san."
The golden haired angel offers her a small smile to the blushing girl.
"You can call me Kyoko."
A tan arm reaches out out from underneath a pure and snowy gown.
"Want to dance?"
"But what about boss..."
Kyoko turns her eyes over to the wild haired man being dragged about by both his right hand man and his tutor.
"He looks like he's having fun, besides girls should stick together right?"
"But-"
And Chrome doesn't have time to say another word before she is swept up into the rhythm and movement of the autumn night.
3.
The world is grey when they meet for what seems like the both the first time revisited and the final time too soon lived.
Death crunches under Chrome's feet as she stands by the dark ebony bed and brushes off one of the orange flames that has fallen like a stain of memory. Her eyes burn like ice as she turns away, another person lost, another precious person crying.
Kyoko's black dress gleams like a candle in this backwards world and their eyes meet again, overlapping emotions set into each glistening orb.
Lips crash together clutching in a wordless plea,
Never let me go.