Title: Say Something

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance/Friendship

Summary: He opened his mouth, but the words he continuously failed to find choked within his throat. Normally in these situations, he would chose to say what it was that his heart told him to say; to remind her of their friendship, and to assure her that some silly kiss wouldn't change the bond of rivalry between them. But, as the silence proceeded to haunt them, he realized that he could not in fact promise her that.


She had grabbed him and pulled him forward-that was all he could remember. The rest had become a muffled blur by her lips; it was like being immersed in water, quelling the sound of his own thoughts into hazy murmurs as the erratic beating of his heart echoed through his ears and the deepest concaves of his chest. Something heavy seemed to permeate through his lungs, displacing a much needed urge to breathe as though, for a moment, he forgot how to do so.

He was drowning. And all the while he'd kept his eyes wide open, frozen in a stunned silence as the foreign sensation of silk lips molding against his own temporarily disarmed him.

Fingers twitched at his side, not in a manner that suggested a desire to hold, but one that seemed uncertain of their own task. He felt paralyzed-torn between the urge to pry her hands from his collar and the expectation to place them on her shoulders and return her precipitant advance.

In the end, he remained perfectly still, stiff in her grasp as the web of intricate fuses in his brain, often so attuned to one another that each strategic play he made seemed as effortless as speaking a first language, began to short circuit under the soft pressure of her feminine lips.

It seemed like hours had passed before she finally pulled away, and he watched her eyes avert in an uncharacteristically sheepish manner, noting in his shock the pink which had begun to flush out her pale cheeks. She in turn made no effort to hide it, tucking a stray lock of hair adeptly behind her ear; it was obvious that Asuka had intended every lingering moment that her lips had touched his so crassly, and just as a queen, with no intention to apologize for the wholeheartedness of her actions.

It was something he had often admired of her. But this time, that admiration had been at some point consumed by his own ambivalence. He knew he should say something, but the image of her face which he had once accompanied with the comfort and innocence of friendship was still so closely felt that he could still extract the sensation of her breath tickling his skin.

A few moments of silence passed, and as though she could read his mind, Asuka barely snapped. "At least say something."

He opened his mouth, but the words he continuously failed to find choked within his throat. Normally in these situations, he would chose to say what it was that his heart told him to say; to remind her of their friendship, and to assure her that some silly kiss wouldn't change the bond of rivalry between them. But, as the silence proceeded to haunt them, he realized that he could not in fact promise her that.

"A-Asuka…"

She finally lowered her gaze, though it was only for a moment before she turned in a single, swift motion. He blinked, feeling a panic rise up within his throat as he watched her bold gaze escape him. He wanted to stop her, but Asuka would not allow him to see her weak-he both knew and respected this. So he remained silent, lowering his head as he to unwisely looked toward the ground as if for the answers he sought.

He didn't find them.

By the time he would look up, she would be gone. And he would be left with only his own skewed thoughts and a pair of cold, tingling lips where the lingering presence her own would remain like the faintest touch of a ghost.


"I almost forgot how fun this was."

They sat aside from one another, feet dangling off the wooden balcony of someone's apartment. The air was still lukewarm from the sun which had set not long ago, leaving in its wake a pleasant, summer twilight that served well to accompany the warm and celebratory atmosphere around them. Children chased one another down alleyways with their yukatas bunched up over their knees, tripping over the wooden geta on their feet. Others waved their umbrellas, bounding down the streets in excitement for the events of the night to come.

She couldn't help but smile, suppressing a flurry of her own exhilaration; it had only been a year since she'd made the life altering decision to study abroad in America. Already the festival seemed like a fond memory playing back in her mind, reminding her of simpler times and a simpler life; American customs had begun to grow on her, and in turn as she watched the spectacle unfold she felt a similar sense of appreciation welling from within her.

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" Asuka nodded, because she wasn't the only one whose hands had reached for soil beyond the seams of her culture. She glanced at him for a moment; it had been a while. And not simply since they'd enjoyed the spectacles of Tenjin Matsuri. Suddenly, it felt as though something heavy had coated her insides and she opted to avert her gaze to the blank canvas of the night sky as they waited for the bright lights of fireworks to appear.

The last time they had seen one another, Asuka had avoided him. The lost expression on his face haunted her memory, and she felt an empty hole linger through her stomach whenever the memory resurfaced.

She had never received an answer, and that was much worse than any residuum of consequence she would go so far as to think of.

A small smile tugged at her lips. Still, crossing paths with him once more was more than enough to assuage her distress, and the bright resilience of their friendship was something she treasured beyond measurable means.

A burst of light shot through the sky, breaking over the threshold of the skyline before erupting into a thousand tiny specks of shimmering, explosive light. They spread out over the sky, like a thousand tiny flowers simultaneously blooming above a light speckled ocean rippling in its gratitude. She watched as they fell, like a gossamer string of falling stars disappearing toward the ground, and like a dream, she felt an inexplicable urge to reach out and catch them.

All at once the sky had shattered into an infinite array of shining, shimmering colors, and suddenly she was a child in wonder.

A small brush against her hand momentarily roused her, and she blinked, glancing down between them. His fingers had brushed against her own, and she felt them tingle much in the way that the bright specks of fire spread through the sky. A large part of her anticipated to pull away, but an inexplicable force kept her hand where it was grounded, the same force with which she fought to return her undivided attention to the show above them.

She spared a glance at the male beside her, noting how the softness in his smile contrasted against the bright, intense lights flickering over the shadows on his face. His smile, aside from the fervent passion of his dueling, had always managed to catch her attention. Once, she remembered, it had been radiant and unhampered by whatever trials he had been forced to confront. Now, it had long since been kneaded by the heavy weight of maturity, and she suddenly felt a burst of gratitude for each memory of their years at duel academia she had held onto.

"Asuka,"

Blinking, her gaze tilted up to meet his own, and the smile on her lips faltered. He stared back, something unfamiliar lingering behind the depths of his eyes. For a moment, they simply looked at one another, and suddenly the resonant crackling of the fireworks and rambunctious cheers around them had become nothing more than a dull buzz fading into background.

Again she would wait for him to say something, and he wouldn't say a word. But this time, when she opened her mouth, his lips would find their way to hers and she would once again feel her heart burst through her lungs.

Fireworks, much like the ones in the sky did not erupt. The earth did not cease rotation and the galaxies did not shatter much like they did in the stories she had read as a child. Instead, this kiss was the warmth of a flickering candle light; it was the feeling of reaching your toes into the sand and feeling each grain slip through the cracks of your toes like silk. It was touching your cheek after the frigid, howling winds of winter had kissed them, feeling the inexplicable smoothness of numb skin beneath your warm hands.

It held her tight, even though his lips felt unsure against her own.

Her eyes, which had fluttered shut, hesitantly opened, blinking as she watched his eyebrows furrow. For a moment, she wondered if he had just come to the same realization as she had.

A moment passed before he broke away, a brush of pink shading his cheeks as he looked off to the side. A hand rubbed nervously over the crook of his neck, and a small, crooked smile spread out across his lips. She blinked, suddenly feeling her body grow inexplicably numb.

"At least say something, Asuka."

A small smile tugged at her lips, and he looked back at her, a nervous smile still lingering on his own. Both turned their heads, watching as the finale of fireworks exploded throughout the sky, shooting into the atmosphere like a million different dreams hurtling toward the heavens.

Their fingers brushed against one another, and this time she hesitantly curled them around his own.

Neither of them said a word until the smoke had cleared from the sky, and the lanterns below them flickered, carried off by the midnight, summer wind.