I do not own Naruto or Bleach. Well, it's nearly the end of Independence Day and I literally am writing this late at night, but I really wanted to get this really short story up.
~His Point of View~
Ever since I was young, I had always admired fireworks. I had been mesmerized by the bright colors and rare, fleeting beauty of them. The way they almost seemed like flowers against the inky blackness of the sky. So, when I had become a pyrotechnic, it was no surprise to anyone.
In a way, it reminded me of how we met. When she had first come into the shop, her hair had been dark like the night sky and her eyes were the bright lights against them. We had been testing a new sort of firework at the time, and in surprise, I had accidentally set off the prototype. Lights had filled the entire room, soon followed by smoke and coughing.
I let loose a curse as my co-worker also cursed.
"D***! That's the first time I've seen you mess up! What's going on?" he had asked between coughs. I could barely let a few words out and coughed to cover up my lack of answer. The girl giggled and I could only imagine how I looked right now, covered in black powder. My only comfort was my hair had been dyed a different color by the powder, making me feel normal, not the 'Ice Prince' everyone had always teased about.
"Are you alright?" the girl had asked kindly, pulling out a handkerchief from her purse.
"We're fine," my co-worker had answered for the both of us. She handed each of us a light blue handkerchief and explained that her sister's birthday was coming up and she had wanted to set off some small fireworks for her. We had shown her some of the smaller, but still beautiful fireworks and looking at the sample pictures intently, she had a look on her face that I could only describe as utterly adorable.
"We'll let you keep those pictures. How about you give Toshiro here a call when you pick 'em?" he had suggested, nudging me. I shoved the orange-haired man back a little before entering my phone number in her small cell phone. She had then entered her number in mine. With a smile and wave, she then left. The minute she turned the corner, my co-worker and I had a little fight.
A few days afterwards, she had called me and wondered if I could have met her at a certain restaurant. Informing my fellow workers, whom had all known by now of my first screw-up thanks to a certain orange-haired man, waved me off with secret smiles and wishes of good luck.
The restaurant wasn't too pricey and the food was decent. She ordered a large variety of fireworks, but afterwards, it almost felt like a date. We walked around the park, holding hands. We ate ice cream. We somehow even ended up at a small carnival, which was why we were now escalating higher and higher on the Ferris wheel. Her eyes shined as she looked out, her nose pressed against the glass.
A sudden breeze had her tumbling onto me (due to lack of seat belts) and our lips met for a second. Lights lit up in my eyes, fireworks strewn across my vision, and left me dazed.
"Oh, sorry," she apologized, blushing harshly while trying to stand up a little just as another gust of wind passed by in the sky.
"Don't be sorry," I murmured as our lips met again and again on that Ferris wheel.
It was just a short half-an-hour oneshot like Playboys. I just got the idea from the fireworks show I saw around an hour ago, and the story was rather rushed since I wanted to get it up before the day ended, but I hope you were mesmerized anyways.