"Kaho."
She turned to look at him in surprise, her eyes wide.
"Eh?"
Ryou reddened, suddenly feeling sheepish.
"Sorry," he apologized, his tone unusually timid. "I shouldn't be so familiar."
She blushed in return. "No," she said after a moment, unable to meet his eyes. "It's fine. I don't mind."
He couldn't help but notice—as he noticed so many other things, when it came to her—how flushed she looked. He wondered if it was due to the conversation, or, perhaps, merely a trick of the setting sun as its colours touched her pale skin.
Either way, her suddenly bashful expression made his own cheeks burn, and he found himself lost for words.
Kaho allowed herself to glance up at him from time to time as they walked home together in the ensuing silence, though every look brought with it the danger that their stares might lock. Her face felt hot as she heard his voice in her head again and again, speaking her name so casually.
"Kaho."
Though it had been a shock to hear Tsuchiura say it—as he was normally so cautious about overstepping his boundaries with her—in truth, she couldn't say that she hadn't enjoyed him doing so on this particular occasion.
Perhaps it was the way he had said it, she thought, that made it so easy to accept; she had always admired the lyrical quality of his low, masculine voice, and when he used it as gently as he had just then, she thought she might agree to almost anything that he would ask of her.
He had said it, in any case, in a more comfortable manner than she could remember anyone else doing recently. When she thought of the others—Yunoki with his predatory, teasing "Kahoko," Hihara with his bright and cheerful "Kaho-chan!", and Tsukimori, of course, with the ever-formal "Hino-san"—there was something left to be desired in each case.
Even Tsuchiura—up until a few minutes ago, that is—had seemed reluctant to let go of "Hino" when addressing her, always straddling the fence between being overly formal and overly familiar. She seemed to remember him always looking fairly uncomfortable whenever Hihara had first started to call her "Kaho-chan"; now that he'd crossed that bridge himself, however, the memory of his sour expression made her giggle a little.
He looked at her curiously. "Hino?"
She flashed him a small smile, forgetting her embarrassment for the moment.
"I thought you were going to start calling me 'Kaho'—weren't you?"
Ryou turned away from the pointed question, blushing again.
"Only if that's all right with you," he mumbled, covering his face with one of his large hands.
She tried to keep from grinning. "I already told you it was, didn't I?"
He nodded silently, and her grin faded back into a sweet smile. "It sounds nice, anyway."
He looked back at her in confusion. "What does?"
Her eyes lit up a little.
"The way you say my name."
His blush spread and darkened.
"Don't say something so embarrassing," he muttered, making her giggle in spite of the frown which had planted itself on his lips.
She paused, forcing them to stop. He glanced around the area—it was the same park she often practiced in after school, he observed—and then back at her glowing expression. Seeing Tsuchiura's questioning look, Kaho suddenly remembered something Hihara had said to her once—something about how he would want the girl he liked to call him by his first name.
(She also remembered how he had then asked her to do so, and—although Kaho knew she could be as dense as a brick at times when it came to these matters—she had declined, knowing where that road might lead.)
Gazing up at Tsuchiura in that moment, the sentiment behind Hihara's comment somehow touched her in a way it hadn't before; and where her expression had previously been one of blithe, soft teasing, it gradually became one of shy affection.
"Would you say it again—Ryou-kun?"
He flushed as he noticed her suddenly changed state, not to mention how she had said it—his name—in such a quiet, tender way. In the past, he had only ever seen her look so vulnerable in relation to her music, and even in the rare instances that he had managed to draw a blush from her before, he had always done so at least somewhat on purpose.
But in that moment—without her beloved violin, and without prior instigation—she was willingly revealing a part of herself to him, and she looked beautiful.
He smiled.
"Kaho."
Author's Note/Disclaimer: Needless to say I don't own this show or anything in it, but I do love this pairing and wish it had been pursued. I imagine the scene as taking place after the events of Secondo Passo. Hope you enjoyed it!
