One thousand paper cranes, all of them folded with care, though some better than others, but all of them held a special memory inside. That's what made them equally important.
Three hundred forty-seven rooftops had been flown.
Two hundred and five painted rocks had been left on a mountain over the course of three years.
All of it had a meaning, a purpose.
The cranes sat in a shoe box under his bed, a picture of the sunset from every rooftop was neatly tucked away in a scrapbook and a diary with every quote that had been painted on a rock was safely hidden away in his desk.
Rooftop number one hundred twenty-two was his favorite picture but at the moment, sitting in class and not paying attention, rooftop number three hundred forty-eight was in his sights. After school, he silently vowed he'd go flying. Well, he would after he snuck up to the music room and listened to the Lonely Golden Violin.
From his own years of playing, Gilbert knew exactly what he was listening to the first time he had heard it. When he went to investigate who was playing such sad songs he had found that new exchange student from Canada. Gilbert didn't know his reasoning for wanting to come to Germany but he was glad that he did. It's not like he was going to complain about it any time soon.
It was then that Gilbert felt someone staring at him, something he was used to because of the way he looked but he had been a part of this school long enough that everyone stopped. Meaning it had to be one of the exchange students. Using the window as a mirror, Gilbert found a pair of violet eyes locked onto him. It was the Canadian.
Smirking to himself, Gilbert returned the favor and started at the kid's reflection. He was actually really cute, with his expressive eyes, chin length blonde hair with that one strand that curled, his roundish face and thin rimmed glasses. Somehow the red sweater he always wore brought out his eyes but unfortunately it was also his shell.
Gilbert had only seen him without it once and that had been in a picture of the kid in his hockey gear. That was how he had learned his name, although he never let him know that. Simply because they had never talked and that would be a little awkward. Matthew Williams was the name on the picture of his hockey team and Gilbert had to admit that the name fit him nicely.
A soft blush appeared on Matthew's face as his eyes met Gilbert's mischievous ruby gaze in the reflection on the window. He couldn't help himself, Gilbert winked. Matthew quickly ducked his head back towards his open notebook but that gave Gilbert a nice view of how red the tips of his ears were. The bell rang soon after and Gilbert would have been the first one out of the classroom had it not been for Kiku Honda, the Japanese exchange student.
Kiku smoothly stepped into Gilbert's intended path of escape, when he looked up at Gilbert, the albino tensed. Concern made Kiku's deep brown eyes seem darker.
"Gilbert, I couldn't help but notice Ludwig's absence today. Is he not feeling well?" Kiku asked in perfect German.
"Came down with a cold," Gilbert shrugged, a gesture that silently told Kiku not to worry about him, and then walked around him, "I'll let him know your concerned though." He said over his shoulder as an afterthought.
"Hai, arigato."
As Gilbert walked down the halls, he took out a pen and wrote a quote on his arm. 'A man without friends, is a man without light.' Once he had retrieved the text books he'd need for his homework that night from his locker. Gilbert followed his younger brother's schedule and collected any homework or missed classwork for him.
By then the halls were empty and Gilbert was free to stroll along on his way to the music room.
He was in no hurry.
As Gilbert drew closer, Matthew's soft violin grew louder and Gilbert's strides grew longer. He came to a halt just outside the door that led to the music room and leaned against the wall with his hands stuffed into his pockets.
The Lonely Golden Violin was once again playing deep, rich, slow notes with a small haunting of hope under lining it. It reminded Gilbert of the sorrowful hope that rain brings. When the sky is gray and you wish for the sun, for something better.
He must have stood there for half an hour, completely lost in the songs of that violin when the silence suddenly became louder than thunder. It crushed around his ears and made them ring in C sharp, shrill and maddening. Gilbert blinked multiple times before it registered that the Lonely Golden Violin had stopped singing.
The door opened and out walked Matthew, his eyes widened as they landed on his unknown audience of one but kept walking. Gilbert's hand moved without his permission and grabbed Matthew's wrist, bringing the Canadian to a stop and his eyes to look over his shoulder and at the Prussian's pale face.
"Vhat to go flying vith me?" The question was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Calling on the years spent of becoming the world's greatest liar, Gilbert schooled his features to remain as they had been. Completely serious and straight with no hint of the embarrassing blush that wanted to invade.
"I…Didn't know you spoke English," Matthew finally said.
"On occasion," Gilbert let go of Matthew's wrist, leaning back against the wall and shrugged his shoulders, "Vanna go or not?"
"Go flying?" Matthew asked, his eyes full of uncertainty and a small bit of doubt.
"Nien, to the moon. Ja, flying," Gilbert said sarcastically.
"Your accent is terrible," Matthew chuckled.
"Soorey aboot that, eh," Gilbert smirked. Matthew laughed so hard he had to put his hand to the wall for support. Gilbert's smirk grew as he watched him die of laughter from his failed attempt at a Canadian accent.
He waited patiently as Matthew's loud laughter slowly faded into tired giggles before stopping. The blonde hockey player glanced up at Gilbert with a smile on his face.
"Gilbert?"
"Ja?"
"Take me flying, eh."
~O~
The door hit the wall with a loud 'bang' that echoed down the empty stair well. Gilbert ran to the center of the roof, tossing his head back and lifting both arms to the sky.
"Rooftop number three hundred forty-eight!" He shouted.
"Eh?" Matthew, ever the responsible one, propped the door open with his backpack. Gilbert had left all of his stuff in his car. He didn't answer him and instead ran to the edge of the roof and hopped up onto the railing. Hooking his leg around a nearby pole so he could lean out over the edge without the fear of falling.
"Gil, what are you doing!?" Matthew shouted and ran up to him, grabbing onto his arm so he couldn't fall.
"Calm down, I'm not going to jump." Gilbert dug into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a camera, "Just need a good angle, is all." He explained as he turned it on. He raised it to his eye and took a picture of the sunset, which was painting the sky orange, red, and pink.
Beautiful.
"Okay, you got your picture, now please get down," Matthew said and tugged on Gilbert's arm.
"Vhat? Afraid of heights?" Gilbert smiled down at Matthew. The albino shook Matthew's hand off of his arm and captured it in his own pale hand. Gilbert leaned back, unhooking his leg from around the pole to stand on both feet firmly, and tugged Matthew up onto the edge with him. Matthew clutched Gilbert's shirt tightly with his free hand as he tilted back and forth precariously before he got his balance back.
Once he was sure he wouldn't fall to his death, Matthew released his hold and stood on his own.
The wind tossed their hair and clothes harshly, if it wasn't for the tight grip Gilbert had on Matthew's hand, the Canadian would have stepped back onto the solid rooftop behind him instead of staying perched on the very edge. Gilbert's usual condescending smirk had softened into a gentle smile that made his sharp features seem almost gentle. His crimson eyes sparkled as he gazed out at the sunset, seemingly completely oblivious to the fact that he still had Matthew's hand in his.
However the Canadian wasn't as oblivious, in fact he was quite aware of the warm and slender hand wrapped around his. His face was almost as colorful as the setting sun, Matthew turned his head toward Gilbert to check if the albino was watching him and was relieved to find that he wasn't. Feeling the searching gaze on him, Gilbert turned his head only enough to look at Matthew from the corner of his eye.
His smile softened even further when Matthew's blush deepened. The blonde swallowed hard a few times before he very carefully entwined his fingers with Gilbert's. The albino squeezed his hand reassuringly.
In that moment, Gilbert changed his mind. Rooftop number one hundred twenty-two was no longer his favorite; it was number three hundred forty-eight.