A/N: Special thanks to all of those who've read, favourited, followed and reviewed this story. I hope that you enjoy this chapter as well! Onward ~
One
...
Gasping gold eyes flutter open as Rima sits up in bed, a cold sweat coating her pale skin.
"A...dream?" She breathes, eyes flitting about her dark bedroom, a sense of comfort overwhelming her as she sucks in a shaky breath, pressing a cool palm against her hot forehead.
"It was just a dream." She sighs falling back onto her mattress, eyes glued to the spinning ceiling fan. She doesn't move, limbs splayed over her crumpled bedspread, long hair framing her face. She'd had that dream again – the one where she'd died.
A shudder courses through her tiny body.
Rima blinks.
"I should stop watching those stupid horror movies with Amu-chan." She mutters rolling onto her side and pulls her knees against her chest, lower lip protruding.
She'd been this way for months now – plagued by nightmares about her own impending death. Rima swallows hard, eyelids drooping. "Don't be stupid, Rima." She scolds frowning, fingers curling into tiny fists.
"It's just a dream...they all are."
...
High school was depressing. The teachers were all sadistic bastards who forced the students to participate in trivial manners.
"Faster!" Aido Sensei yells blowing into his whistle and Class 1B picks up their pace around the large track. Stifling a rising yawn, Rima props her cheek against her palm, watching disinterestedly from her place on the bleachers.
"Mashiro-san!" Aido Sensei shouts and with another yawn, Rima produces a sheet of paper from her tracksuit's breast pocket. She holds it up, eyelids drooping as she stares at the man.
"Doctor's note," she says nonchalantly and with a sigh, he turns away leaving the blonde alone. Rima stretches her arms out in front of her, staring down at the long sleeves of her green sweatshirt.
God, she hated P.E. It was stupid and pointless and she'd never admit it but she sucked at it.
Rima frowns, arms dropping into her lap, mind drifting back to her nightmare. She shudders; gut lurching as she swallows hard. She doesn't want to think about it and yet it's the only thing on her mind. Dying was depressing and sighing, Rima rests her chin against her knees. Would this nightmare ever end?
"Rima-san."
Scratch that, reality was worse – much worse.
Looking up, hooded eyes land on the lithe frame of an all too familiar figure – Fujisaki Nagihiko. Hands locked behind his back and dressed in a tracksuit identical to the blonde's the boy smiles, amber eyes softening and long hair spilling over his shoulders. Rima's frown darkens as she presses the heel of her palm against her jaw.
"You, boy have you come to steal Amu-chi from me?!" She accuses, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Nagihiko blinks. "Amu...chan?" He asks, eyes drifting away from the petite blonde and onto the track where he easily finds the pinkette rounding the curb. He smiles.
"Hmm, not today I'm afraid." He mutters, turning to face the blonde, smile broadening and Rima glares.
"Go away," she deadpans but Nagihiko ignores her, clambering onto the bleachers with the sort of grace only felines possessed.
"That's mean, Rima-san."
Rima yawns, apathetically watching the boy approach. ''This is a female P.E. class, Fujisaki you're not allowed. Unless your sudden appearance is an implication of something." She smirks impishly, hair spilling over her shoulders. Nagihiko hums, settling down beside her, shoulder pressed against hers.
God, she hated him.
"Why aren't you running?" Not missing a beat, Rima pushes her note into the boy's face, watching her fellow classmates.
"Doctor's note."
Blinking, Nagihiko leans back squinting at the sheet of paper, amber eyes flitting over the words before he smiles.
"It's not a very good one." He replies and gold eyes narrowing, they slide towards the boy.
"And why's that?" Nagihiko shrugs, smile broadening as he leans forward propping his elbows onto his lap, watching the girls jog around the track.
"It doesn't give a clear indication as to what's wrong with you." He breathes, pushing a loose fist under his chin, gaze trailing onto the tiny blonde. Rima scoffs, shoving the note back into her pocket.
Stupid Nagihiko.
"What do you want?" She mumbles folding scrawny arms over her chest, lower lip protruding – cheeks flushed. Nagihiko laughs leaning into her side and Rima gets a noseful of cinnamon shampoo.
"Ne, Rima-san why do I have to want something?"
"Yah!" The blonde exclaims shoving the boy, face hot and Nagihiko laughs rocking back before he steadies himself, chin tucked against his chest.
"Rima-san," he whispers and the blonde watches as Nagihiko reaches into his sweatpants and pulls out a neatly folded piece of paper.
He turns it over in his hand for a moment, face contorting into a pensive expression before he smiles and perking up faces the blonde. "Can you give this to Amu-chan for me?" He asks, Rima's heart suddenly thumping against her chest, gut churning.
Sensing the girl's apprehension, Nagihiko's smile broadens, eyes dancing in their sockets. "It's not a love letter." Rima's body relaxes, heartbeat slowing down. Nagihiko holds the note out and she stares at it oddly.
Was she really going to trust Nagihiko?
"Rima-san?" The blonde blinks, reaching a small hand out for the paper.
"Haaai," she chimes dryly, curling thin pale fingers around the note and Nagihiko grins popping to his feet.
"Thanks...Rima-san, later." And with that Nagihiko dashes down the bleacher, Rima waving lazily and once he's out of sight her face drops back to the note, eyes narrowing.
She unfolds it, not caring whether or not Nagihiko wants her to know what it says. Anything Fujisaki Nagihiko had to say to Amu – her Amu he had to say to her. With another yawn, eyes watering and eyelids drooping, she pushes the heel of her palm against her chin, glossy gold eyes roaming over the page.
Nagihiko had been right, it wasn't a love letter.
It was an invitation for Amu to attend the fair with him that Saturday. Rima frowns crushing the note as she scoffs.
"Baka."
