The Love Letter
A FY Fanfic by
Clockwork Pilot
Notes: This is set is an alternate universe where all the senshi are just relatively normal high school students. Hotohori is a senior and President of the student council, Nuriko is it's Vice Prez-Miaka is an upbeat, popular freshman. ( I modifed the ages so they could all go to school together) Hotohori has a crush on Miaka, and Nuriko (secretly) has a crush on Hotohori. This is imcomplete but there may very be shounen-ai (gasp) in the near future. Please give me feedback, good or bad, I thrive off it.
Hotohori Kanzaki yawned as he opened his locker. Between schoolwork, kendo practice, and his duties as President of the student council, he often found himself less than bright-eyed and energetic at the start of the day. When he saw a plain, white envelope resting calmly on top of his notebooks, however, he felt a sudden surge of energy. A tingle of excitement went down his spine as he carefully picked up the edge of heavy, thick paper and examined the envelope. It lacked the traditional heart sticker and was not sealed. Slowly, methodically he pulled out a single, folded sheet of paper. It quivered it his fingers a few moments, he whole hand trembling in excitement. Abruptly the paper, still unfolded, stopped moving. He sighed and chastised himself for acting like some swooning girl. This was nothing to get excited over, he told himself a dozen times. For all he knew, it wasn't even a love letter!
From his first year of middle school well into his freshman year of high school, his popularity and good looks got him more letters than he could remember. They were always sealed with some cute sticker; with cutesy scrawled writing (excessively) praising his handsome looks, usually accompanied with a request for a date. He felt comfortable with dating the droves of girls that craved his attention, but never truly happy or satisfied. As he grew bored with the dating scene, he stopped returning the affections of his admirers, and the flood of letters gradually trickled to a halt. A letter sent to him now, when it was well understood immature, superficial attraction would be blown off meant something. A letter now would be something of depth, something special.
His pulse quickened as his dropped the envelope and unfolded the letter, using every once of willpower not to tear it open in his anticipation. Silently he prayed, pleaded that his secret hope would come true:
Please, please, let it be Miaka...
Flying over the page, he heart rate returned to normal. It wasn't Miaka, he could tell just by looking at the handwriting. It was too nice to be hers. His excitement and hope dissolved into his stomach. He felt as if his heart was a balloon that was being pumped to point of bursting and then slowly deflated. Defeated, he sluggishly he read over the letter.
The handwriting was more than nice-it was in a delicate, flowery calligraphy done with meticulous precision and attention to detail. This girl, whoever she was, was going out of her way to impress him. The beautiful script said its writer wished to remain anonymous, had known him for a long time, and thought he was, put in three or four paragraphs, the greatest man she had ever meet. Phrases like "alluring and sophisticated," "a natural leader," and, "someone that works hard to make our school great," echoed in his mind. He read over the letter a second time, sighing wistfully. He couldn't think of any girl he knew that would talk like that- probably some reclusive, brainy underclassman that could only express her feelings at a distance. Someone who would probably never work up the courage to reveal herself to him. Depressing, mysterious, but the letter was nothing to get worked up over...
He paused reading mid-sentence, eyes widening in realization. He recognized the handwriting-
And he smiled.
Notes: This is set is an alternate universe where all the senshi are just relatively normal high school students. Hotohori is a senior and President of the student council, Nuriko is it's Vice Prez-Miaka is an upbeat, popular freshman. ( I modifed the ages so they could all go to school together) Hotohori has a crush on Miaka, and Nuriko (secretly) has a crush on Hotohori. This is imcomplete but there may very be shounen-ai (gasp) in the near future. Please give me feedback, good or bad, I thrive off it.
Hotohori Kanzaki yawned as he opened his locker. Between schoolwork, kendo practice, and his duties as President of the student council, he often found himself less than bright-eyed and energetic at the start of the day. When he saw a plain, white envelope resting calmly on top of his notebooks, however, he felt a sudden surge of energy. A tingle of excitement went down his spine as he carefully picked up the edge of heavy, thick paper and examined the envelope. It lacked the traditional heart sticker and was not sealed. Slowly, methodically he pulled out a single, folded sheet of paper. It quivered it his fingers a few moments, he whole hand trembling in excitement. Abruptly the paper, still unfolded, stopped moving. He sighed and chastised himself for acting like some swooning girl. This was nothing to get excited over, he told himself a dozen times. For all he knew, it wasn't even a love letter!
From his first year of middle school well into his freshman year of high school, his popularity and good looks got him more letters than he could remember. They were always sealed with some cute sticker; with cutesy scrawled writing (excessively) praising his handsome looks, usually accompanied with a request for a date. He felt comfortable with dating the droves of girls that craved his attention, but never truly happy or satisfied. As he grew bored with the dating scene, he stopped returning the affections of his admirers, and the flood of letters gradually trickled to a halt. A letter sent to him now, when it was well understood immature, superficial attraction would be blown off meant something. A letter now would be something of depth, something special.
His pulse quickened as his dropped the envelope and unfolded the letter, using every once of willpower not to tear it open in his anticipation. Silently he prayed, pleaded that his secret hope would come true:
Please, please, let it be Miaka...
Flying over the page, he heart rate returned to normal. It wasn't Miaka, he could tell just by looking at the handwriting. It was too nice to be hers. His excitement and hope dissolved into his stomach. He felt as if his heart was a balloon that was being pumped to point of bursting and then slowly deflated. Defeated, he sluggishly he read over the letter.
The handwriting was more than nice-it was in a delicate, flowery calligraphy done with meticulous precision and attention to detail. This girl, whoever she was, was going out of her way to impress him. The beautiful script said its writer wished to remain anonymous, had known him for a long time, and thought he was, put in three or four paragraphs, the greatest man she had ever meet. Phrases like "alluring and sophisticated," "a natural leader," and, "someone that works hard to make our school great," echoed in his mind. He read over the letter a second time, sighing wistfully. He couldn't think of any girl he knew that would talk like that- probably some reclusive, brainy underclassman that could only express her feelings at a distance. Someone who would probably never work up the courage to reveal herself to him. Depressing, mysterious, but the letter was nothing to get worked up over...
He paused reading mid-sentence, eyes widening in realization. He recognized the handwriting-
And he smiled.