She sits, perched up with her knees on the stately chairs by the garnet-brown wood of the table, her meal untouched, clacking her chopsticks against each other in a manner as mildly irritating as it is charming. I watch her—confusedly, impatiently, irately, tenderly…loving her, loving her…. "Come sit me, Hanabusa," Yuuki beckons me closer in a businesslike manner, motioning me closer with the chopsticks. "I feel lonely if I eat alone."
I roll my eyes hugely, while inwardly I know that they would have—humiliatingly—been prickling with adoring tears. "Chicken," I mutter, half beneath my breath.
"Pretty boy."
"Baby."
"Aido-senpai."
"Hey!"
She chuckles, poking me gently with the chopsticks. "At least I'm not calling you Hana-chan…Hanabusa."
I redden furiously, leaping to my feet, infuriated. "It was Akatsuki, wasn't it?" I demand of her, half-shouting, beginning to leap up and down on my feet like a petulant infant. "Or was it Ruka? Which one was it, Yuuki-chan? Which one told you? I won't leave them this time! I'll freeze their wedding clothes! I'll freeze their wine! I'll freeze their bed on their wedding night! I'll freeze-"
Yuuki smiles. "Oh, it wasn't Kain-senpai, Hanabusa. Nor Ruka-chan. You're an open book to me. It wasn't that hard to figure out your um…penchant for nicknames." Her smile turns into a wide grin—a memory I know from our days at Kurosu Gakuen, when shouts of "Idol-senpai! Idol-senpai!" were perhaps the most commonly heard.
But I hear none of this. I understand none of this—all that resound now in my ears is her words. You're an open book to me. You're an open book to me. An open book. An. Open. Book. To. Me.
Something twists in my chest, a humourless smile tugging at my lips at the irony of her words; I cannot help but look at her, scouring that face, those eyes for something, anything that could hint that she knows…that she knows of what I feel for her, that she knows of how I love her, of how I long for her, of how I would gladly die a coward's death were it to make her smile, of how I would gladly tear off my limbs, mutilate my flesh, relinquish my soul only for her—only for her happiness…I see nothing. She may know my deepest secrets…and yet, this…this she will never know. She must never know.
It takes all my strength not to clasp my chest now, at the icy, spear-like sensation spreading a deadly vein through my body now, numbing my limbs. "Eat your food, it's getting cold," I flap a palm at her—the concentrated effort at keeping my voice indifferent, impatient causes a fine strain of tension to crack through. My hand, when I lay it down upon the table, trembles.
She grumbles good-naturedly, but complies—digging neatly into the roast fish and scooping out a bit of meat onto the chopsticks, a moist pink tongue reaching out and licking it to test its heat before small white teeth close over it, jaw beginning to work. Her eyes close in contentment. "You must definitely teach me how to cook one day, Hanabusa," Yuuki declares—eyes still closed as she chews her meal. "Definitely."
"Don't lean back on your chair so much—you'll choke."
"-and one day, maybe I'll cook some roast fish for you too, ne?"
My heart warms with tenderness. "Your miso soup is getting cold."
"-expect me to cook for the entire household! That'd be wonderful, ne, Hanabusa?"
"Don't put your chopsticks on the table, young lady—what's happening to your manners these days?"
"-and cook for Kaname-oniisama and feed him by my hand…"
"Don't talk with your mouth fu…" my voice dies away in my throat. I cannot speak to this, cannot find within myself the strength to put words to the sudden distressed longing that trembles within my chest. Always him—the bitter anguish echoes hollowly within me. Always…always him.
The silence that follows then makes me look up to her—only to find her eyes fixed upon me, chopsticks only halfway to a half-open mouth, those eyes holding an expression in them at once lost, sad, yearning, caught between longing and confusion.
I draw in a breath, forcing my eyes away from the soft tremble upon her lips my own so long to kiss away. "What is it, Yuuki-chan?" I ask gently.
She sets down the chopsticks onto the tray, nearing me—hands falling to the sides of my face, the hot curl of her breath against my flesh causing a quiver of arousal to flow as a hot river through my veins. Those eyes are dark, endless when they look into my own…scarlet ebony against blue, making me drown into them. "I…I…for a moment, I felt…I felt like…as though…as though…" Her eyes are filled now with sudden tears.
I grasp her hands softly within my own, heart swelling with all the love and concern I hold for her, drawing her closer—steeling my senses against drowning into her nearness, now longing no more than to comfort her. "What is it, Yuuki-chan?" I repeat, keeping my voice as soft as I can, murmuring the words and feeling my breath moisten her skin.
Her eyes are dazed, filled with tears. "I…I…you…for a moment, I…I felt like I…like I…" She turns away from me, squeezing her eyes shut. A tear trickles down a pale cheek, a rivulet of solitary sadness. "Hanabusa…" Her voice is a lost, broken whisper. "I…Hanabusa, I…I thought…"
"You thought what?" I ask softly, cupping her cheek daringly into my palm—hoping, praying that she sees my touch to be no more than the caring touch of a friend…no more. "You thought what, Yuuki-chan?"
A deep, shuddering breath, chest heaving beneath the force of suppressed grief. Those eyes turn towards me once more—swimming with tears, glimmering with light. "I thought for a moment…that I…that I was back…back in Kurosu Gakuen," Yuuki whispers, a soft, sad smile of melancholy playing along her lips. "I thought I…I was back in my old home…with…with the Chairman and…and…"
I do not speak, allowing her the time to breathe, to stem the pain rising in her chest as slowly, as inexorably as it does in mine to see her in pain—merely holding her, lending her all the warmth I can. It is a few moments until she looks up at me again, cheeks stained with tears—a broken smile on her face.
"I thought…I thought that I was with Zero again."
My chest constricts at the thought, and yet I continue to hold her—leaning forward until she, quite unexpectedly, snuggles closer, burying her head into my chest.
I pause for a moment—stunned, but then close my arms around her, rocking her gently, murmuring soft words of comfort into the dark veil of her hair, stroking it when she begins to weep silently, tears warming the front of my sweater. It fires through my veins—a dark thrill at how now I have replaced Kaname-sama in place of her comforter, I now hold her in my arms, I who now presses my lips to her brow in a soft, comforting motion—wanting no more than to hold her, to love her, to know that no matter what travesty of existence may cause her to hate me, to fear me, to be repulsed from me…I would still love her as I so did now—every breath, every heartbeat echoing to the sweet resonance of her name…Yuuki. Yuuki.
Even now, as I hold her, a sad, helpless smile plays at my lips. Even now…after all these years, she still so has the power to bring me, Aido Hanabusa, to my knees. Even now, even despite our nearness, even despite this…this—I dare call it an intimacy…she is still my queen—a being far too precious, far too fragile and beautiful and delicate and breakable for me to claim upon as I so do wish.
"Hanabusa?"
The whisper is a soft mumble against my chest—I look down at her, to find myself gazing into endless swimming orbs of ebony with those shadows of wine-scarlet, filled now with tears, depthless pools of the truest, simplest beauty I have ever known. "What is it, Yuuki-chan?" I whisper, cupping my hand over her cheek. Surely…surely her grief can warrant such closeness? Surely…surely, she longed for such attentions from me? In a rare moment of daring, I lean forward until the warm silk of her forehead rests against my own.
Yuuki's eyes flutter closed—a soft sigh of breath, of relief, of warmth somehow with our nearness. She is silent, saying nothing, merely rocking back and forth in my arms.
A sob still clings to her quivering voice, when she speaks.
"Do you think…do you think Zero truly despises me, Hanabusa?"
It takes all the strength in the world for me not to howl in despair at her words. How could…how could anyone despise you, Yuuki? I want to scream, I want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her—anything…anything to rid her mind of such baseless fears…even were I to lose her by doing so…"No," I whisper raggedly, tightening my arms around her. "No. Never."
The sheer vehemence to my tone, the uncontrolled ferocity in my voice makes those eyes widen—but she does not let go. Spurred, I continue to speak—fearing that I will lose the strength my anger brings to my voice to the bleak hollowness in my heart at the words I now must say…but speaking, all the same. "Kiryuu Zero would never…ever hate you—he…he could never, Yuuki-chan. He…he loved you so…so deeply. He would die for you without a moment's hesitation were you merely to will it…" Just like me…just…just like me…
"Don't lie to me." She pulls away completely from my arms, eyes shadowed, mouth trembling—unable to sense the flash of hurt that blazes into my chest. "If he…if he loved me…if he loved me…then…then…" Yuuki lunges forward towards me once more, grabbing fistfuls of my sweater, her eyes wide, stricken. "If he loved me, then why did he say such terrible things?" Her voice is high, shrill, panicked—a mere ruction away from an agonized scream. "Why, Hanabusa? Why? Why? Why did he leave my side? Even when I made him promise me he would never leave? Why? Why did he—mmf-"
Her voice is muffled now. I myself know not what has so possessed me this moment…and yet, and yet knowing…knowing that this—this…this is what I have longed for so deeply…for so, so long. Some part of my mind mocks my cowardice, knowing that it is only when I am no longer fully in control of my senses that I can so fulfil my heart.
For it had not been rational thought that had so caused me to reach out and pull her into my arms, into my embrace, and merely hold her…hold her, as though I would never let go. It had not been a desire to overcome that craven darkness of my nature which so held me back from confessing to her the strength of emotion she stirred within me. It had not even been bloodlust—an attribute so deep-seated in a vampire's nature…and yet forgotten when it came to her. To Yuuki.
She feels so warm, so pliant and breakable in my arms…as though she would snap in two were I merely to tighten my embrace by an inch. My heart quivers when I feel her arms curl softly over my back, her stunned whisper trembling against the air.
"Hana…busa?"
Even that ever-present, irrational fear in my mind that so caused me to honor Kaname-sama's words faded away to a forgotten whisper at the swirling, dizzying rush of love and pain and grief and tenderness flaring within my heart. Even now…even now, every thought, every desire, every intermittent flare of yearning colouring her aura…they all remain eclipsed by thoughts of him. Kiryuu Zero. Of him…and Kaname-sama.
As mine so do remain with her.
"Ha…Hanabusa? I…I can't breathe…"
I release her as abruptly as I had seized her—holding her at arm's length, head bowed—hair, hopefully, obscuring my eyes from her. "Forgive me," I whisper, eyes fixed onto the chrome tile of the floor, fighting to control the jarring dizziness spreading a hot, languid vein through my body at the sheer suddenness of it all. "I…I…" Clenching my teeth at my weakness, I raise my head, though keep my eyes lowered. "For…forgive me."
She is silent, merely continuing to stare at me with those depthless eyes—her expression at once confused, alarmed, concerned, wistful. Slowly, I raise my eyes towards her, forcing a smile onto my face. "Sh…should I make you some more onigiri, Yuuki-chan?" I offer weakly, unable to think of anything else. "You…you could do with some more food-" I take to my feet, turning to leave.
Her hand closes over mine, halting all motion.
I gaze down at her—gaze down at those dark eyes that fix upon mine—resolute, wistful, tender, determined, feeling as though the wrist upon which her slender fingers are now closed upon will melt away as the warmth that spreads through my veins at her touch. "Hanabusa," the Kuran princess's eyes do not leave mine, and though her voice is soft, the strength of will behind them in unmistakable. "Don't…don't go."
And this time…this time, I cannot stop the tears from pricking my eyes, cannot stop the small, sad smile from spreading across my face—feeling a sudden, terrible liquid peace swell through my veins, a slow, dark joy spreading in warm tendrils throughout my body. I feel suddenly so…so light, so joyous…as though no amount of grief in the world could ever equate itself to the happiness she causes in my heart. "Of…of course, Yuuki-chan," I whisper, bending down before her. In a moment of daring, I rest my chin upon her knee. "Of course I…of course I won't go."
She does not speak, but the soft sigh of contentment I hear is enough for me. Her hand reaches out, unconsciously stroking the golden hair spilling across her lap, and I tremble at the touch of her soft palm over my head, letting a soft hiss of pleasure when her fingernails rake lightly over my flesh. "It seems so strange, ne, Hanabusa?" Yuuki speaks to me, continuing her ministrations upon my flesh, fingers tangling into my hair, making a thousand, forbidden images rise dangerously in my head—images only to be stored and retrieved with secretive pleasure in my solitude…"When we were in Kurosu Gakuen, I…I thought you hated me…"
My head snaps up so abruptly that her hand jerks away in alarm, and with it, the pleasure that only she can cause. "You thought…what?" my voice is a horrified whisper, the warmth of her request fading away into the newfound shock at her revelation. A numbing, prickling sensation spreads over my limbs like a cold wind in the rains. "You thought…you thought I…I…you thought I hated…you?"
She nods, her smile holding a hint of sadness. "Even now, I…even now, I fear making you hate me," Yuuki murmurs, eyes shadowed slightly. "I…I thought you would not want to stay with me. I…I…even then in Kurosu Gakuen, I thought you hated me because I…because I…"
I near her, feeling as though there was a cold blade in my heart—slowly twisting, grinding, wounding me, drawing blood, making something inside me want to scream, to weep. To say that I hated…hated Yuuki…was a lie so vile, so…so loathsome I longed no more than to raise my hand to her head and erase all her memories of what may have had her think so.
How could I hate her? How could I hate her…the only true cause of any happiness I had ever known?
How could I hate her…when I was so wildly, deeply, obsessively, irrevocably in love with her?
"Why, Yuuki-chan?" I whispered, gripping the sides of the chair in an effort to stem the grief, the shock that rises so poisonously, so inexorably in my heart that it threatens to have me lose myself all together. "Why…why did you think that I…that I…"
Even now, I cannot speak the words.
She tries to smile but cannot—a bleak tug at the lips, that is all. "Kaname-oniisama always…favoured me above the others," Yuuki whispers. "You must have hated me for it…ne, Hanabusa?"
"No!" I grit through my teeth, forcing myself not to yield to the tremble of grief in my voice, feeling the heat of unshed tears in my throat swell with anguish at her misunderstanding. "No, no, never! I…I could never…I would never…I…I…" I clench my eyes shut, feeling nails dig painfully into flesh. "I could never hate you, Yuuki-chan!"
Her lips part in a small gasp at the choked, despairing intensity of my tone, a small, stunned, "Hanabusa…" whispered through widened eyes, a body partially raised—almost as if she fears that I wound injure myself…knowing nothing…knowing nothing of how her words so unintentionally tear wounds into my flesh, wounding me. I fall to my knees once more before her, closing my arms around her legs, tipping my head to gaze up at her—knowing the stricken anguish that floods my chest my eyes can no longer hide. "How, Yuuki-chan?" I whisper, feeling as though my chest was being slowly, methodically being torn apart. "How…how could I ever hate you?"
Yuuki's eyes are full of tears now—one hand cupping my cheek, one falling to tangle into my hair. "Oh, Hanabusa…" she murmurs helplessly.
I tighten my arms over her limbs—feeling as though suddenly we were transported to that time so, so long ago in Kurosu Gakuen…when she stood before me, barefoot and in only her nightgown—attempting to escape…standing there in her lonely beauty, tears falling like liquid diamonds down her cheeks at a fate she could not escape from. "I am no longer, Kaname-sama's slave, Yuuki-chan…" I whisper, struggling not to let the emotion pooling in my chest to overcome my tongue. "He…he no longer commands my loyalty. He never will. No more. No longer."
A soft breath. "Then who will…Hanabusa?"
I straighten; loosening her limbs and striving to ignore the soft, hurt intake of breath when I do so—almost as though she longs me to hold her once more. I look at her, my beautiful Kuran princess—the lover I could never claim…the one to whom I shall be no more than a friend, a protector, a companion. "You," I say simply. "It is you…Yuuki-chan."
She is silent—but her eyes, when they look at me, speak of a thousand unknown emotions she cannot ever find it within herself to put a name to. "Truly?" The single word itself has the power to have me collapse at her feet that moment. "Do you…truly mean that, Hanabusa?"
I merely look at her—allowing for a moment the mask that so prevents her from seeing the love I hold for her in my heart break—a dark, veiled love, a secret that can only be seen through motions, gestures, through silent, longing gazes, through caresses which linger just a moment longer…"It has…only ever been you, Yuuki-chan," I whisper, eyes resting upon her face for but an instant more than necessary. "Always…always you. Only you. Forever."
And strange as it seems that as my words sound like a confession…she does not see it as I so wish her to—merely smiling at me, a small, distracted smile that holds to it a strange yearning, as though she too wishes for what could almost be. "Hanabusa?"
"Yes, Yuuki-chan?"
A sigh. "Thank you." She takes my hands in her own, squeezing them.
And this time…I do not allow my cowardice to hold me back. I raise her hands to my lips, kissing them.
We sit outside by the porch after I clear away the dishes—ignoring her loud, indignant protests at not being allowed to do it herself—watching the sakura petals mingle with the falling snow. It is a beautiful night—the moonlit snow descending silently to the ground, dewdrops already glistening against the ground like diamonds—like unshed tears, the moon full, shimmering white radiance.
Somehow, this beauty seems somehow…diminished. What purity can I so see in the snow, when it holds naught to that of my princess's countenance? What fragile delicacy can I so call the sakura petals as having, when I so look upon her sitting beside me? What melody can I so hear in the ripples of the dark lake running by, when I hear her sweet, ringing laughter?
Surely…surely, it is fortunate that she does not return my love—at least…at least not as I love her. Surely, I would not have been worthy of possessing such perfection. She was a being far too precious, far too delicate and bewitching and captivating and exquisite for me to lay claim upon…fit only for the greatest sovereign, the highest king.
And I am no king.
"Hanabusa! Have you even heard a word of what I have said?"
I blink, feeling a sudden jabbing pressure against my arm where she punches me. It takes a moment for the pain to settle in. "Itai, Yuuki-chan!"
She sticks out her tongue at me. "Serves you right for not listening to me," Yuuki declares, sticking her nose into the air, and somehow managing to pull off a pout endearing enough to want one to smother her with kisses in the same moment.
I gaze at her wonderingly, shaking my head in disbelief, heart warming with tenderness. In moments like these, I forget her to be one of the youngest purebloods in existence—in moments like these, her womanly appearance misleads me, in moments like these, I feel like an overindulgent parent—even despite the fact that I am older than her by only a handful of years. "Why, do forgive me, your majesty-" I throw back at her. "I do so wonder how Kaname-sama tolerates your infantile chatter-"
Yuuki punches me as hard as she can, her tiny fist causing little pain, but which warrants a yelp from me all the same. "For your information, Aido-senpai, Kaname-oniisama is perfectly attentive whenever I speak," she informs me, quite haughtily. "He…he even abandons his paperwork to listen to me sometimes!"
My head was suddenly filled with a bizarre mental image of the dark-haired pureblood lord sitting at rapt attention before her, all the world like a pompous little schoolboy—perfect with bow-tie and hat and sailor-collar.
The image of Kaname-sama combined with that of Yuuki prattling away about some nonsensical matter was far too much. Within moments, I was chuckling quietly to myself—and Yuuki, that infectious creature, was unable to control herself.
Within
moments, we were both howling with laughter, clinging to each other,
red-cheeked and gasping from laughing so much, breathing soon quite a
laboured effort because of the sudden giggles Yuuki would burst
into—soon descending us into another fit once more. It was a long
while until our mirth subsided to an intermittent chuckle from me, or
a soft giggle from her.
Feeling as though the situation had
lightened up enough for me to so ask her the question that had
haunted me from the very moment I had lain eyes upon her…I braced
myself, keeping my tone purposely light.
"Ne, Yuuki-chan," I began conversationally. "Did you ever have a crush on anyone other than Kaname-sama back those days in Kurosu Gakuen?"
Yuuki lets out an outraged squeak, cheeks reddening furiously at the question. "Hanabusa!"
I grin at her. "Oh, so there WAS somebody, ne, Yuuki-chan?"
"Oh…you! Of course there wasn't!"
"Yeah, yeah—I'm so going to believe that, Yuuki-chan…"
"Hanabusa! Oh, you are so annoying! I…I didn't like anybody else!"
"Ah…" I force the note of bitter resignation away from my voice. "So it was always…always Kaname-sama, hmm?"
Yuuki looks at me for a long moment, unknowing of how to answer me. "You speak as though there is something you are hiding from me, Hanabusa." Her voice holds a hint of slyness, as well as hurt that I had not confided in her before. "Is there something I don't know?"
Perhaps…perhaps one day, when my bones mingle with the dust in the winds, she will understand the irony of her words. "Oh, well…" I keep my tone mischievous. "There could be something."
Her mouth falls open, eyes widening. "What is it? What is it? Tell me! Tell me, Hanabusa!"
"Oh no, Yuuki-chan…you've been a very naughty girl in Kurosu Gakuen, haven't you? Tsk tsk, I wouldn't want Kaname-sama finding out about that…"
"Aido Hanabusa! You will tell me what this little piece of gossip about me is, otherwise I will-"
"-tell on me to Kaname-sama?" I goad her mercilessly. "But then I'd have to tell him about it, ne, Yuuki-chan?"
"HANABUSA,
I SWEAR ON MY LATE PARENTS, YOU WILL DIE A THOUSAND MISERABLE DEATHS
IF I DON'T…ehhh?
What
is this?"
The
photograph I dangle now before her eyes like a tasty morsel before a
hungry little puppy is one taken by a Day Class female admirer—in
fact, one of the girls caught at an untimely time by Yuuki herself in
her days of a Kurosu Gakuen prefect, sneaking around the night in a
futile attempt at securing a few pictures of the Night Class
students—specifically Akatsuki and myself, then two of the more
popular ones with our female fans. The two of us, along with Shiki,
had been the more popular ones, because of our…boyish
appeal, even despite Akatsuki's manlier appearance.
It had been the time that Kaname-sama had reminded me of before his departure…the time that I, driven mad with bloodlust, had attempted to drink blood from Yuuki.
The girls had fainted upon catching sight of my fangs, but somehow or the other, one of them had managed to fall right on top of her camera—clicking a photograph in the process. I had missed the click and flash of light in the madness brought upon by my bloodlust. Yuuki had been far too worried and struggling in my grip to have noticed. Akatsuki had been standing at a distance, and far too anxious about Kaname-sama's ubiquitous presence and his discovery of our—specifically my—crime.
What now her wide, dark-eyed gaze fell upon was a perfectly formed photograph of her standing in what could almost be a lover's embrace, one of the white-clad arms of my Night Class jacket curled around her waist—holding her closely, possessively to myself—the other holding her slightly bleeding wrist, my crimson-tainted lips nearing her ear to whisper as I had done, all those years ago—Then may I drink from your neck, Yuuki-chan?—but in the faint light and the angle at which the photo had been inadvertently taken, it appeared more like a lover's kiss…as I probably would have were Akatsuki—and later, Kiryuu Zero—not have been there.
And then, the best of it all. Her eyes—wide, dark, depthless—were fixed onto mine…head turned towards me, back arching against my curled arm in the manner of a woman reclining against her lover…expression turned shadowed in the faint light—at once terrified, at once annoyed…those eyes hiding nothing. There, gleaming as brightly as does the moon now, was the faintest glimmer of desire. Of yearning. Wild, desperate longing.
The way the image has emerged…it appears as though she yearns for me to kiss her, to claim her as my own as much as I yearn for it—as though she is leaning into my arms as much as I own tighten around her. A lover's embrace.
I had long told myself that she was only reacting to what was, by nature, a very intimate touch…that it was not any kind of desire brought about by anything she felt for me. It was only with the darkness of dreams where my desires—unbridled now, uncontrolled—claim her, take her, throw her onto the dark silk sheets of her bedchamber and make love to her the way I have so violently hungered for all this time…
Seiren had destroyed the camera—though I had at first demanded that I be allowed to go through all the film before she did so. Being a lower-ranked vampire to me, she had acquiesced without question—though casting me a look of marked disapproval before doing so. This one…this one had been the only one I had not asked her to destroy. This photograph, this sole photograph…it was my prized possession. It had only been the power in my veins and blood that had prevented the photograph from disintegrating.
The object of my desires now lunges forward, making a wild grab at it. I dance easily out of the way, grinning madly. "Hanabusa!" Yuuki shrieks in annoyance. "YOU…you…you…" unable to think of an adequate enough insult, she resorts to raining her tiny fists upon me—punching anything, everything she sees, making me laugh even harder, tears of mirth now beginning to roll down my cheeks. "Yuuki-chan, gomen! Gomen! See, I told you now, didn't I? Now stop…stop tickling me!"
"Hanabusa, I swear on my late parents, if you show that photo to anybody, and I mean anybody-"
"Aw, come now, Yuuki-chan," I offer placatingly. "It's not like you didn't…enjoy that, ne? Oh…oh gods above, Yuuki-chan, stop! Stop! You're killing me!"
"Oh, I do so wish I could!" Yuuki shrieks back at me, glaring furiously through the enchanting swathe of red that colours her cheeks. "I do so wish I could…I could…I…I'm…I'm…I'm telling Ruka-chan you have a crush on her, Hanabusa!"
I nearly break a rib from the convulsing fit of laughter that overcomes me now, making me double over onto the snowy floor of the porch—jaw beginning to ache from the uncontrollable fits of hilarity that assault me every time I lay eyes upon her fuming countenance. "Oh, Yuuki-chan…" I gasp helplessly, clutching at a stitch on my side as my mirth subsides gradually. "Yuuki-chan, you're priceless…"
Yuuki pouts, turning away from me. "You're mean, Hanabusa," she mumbles sullenly. "Why didn't you ever tell me about that photo?"
"Because I knew you'd try taking it away from me, Yuuki-chan," I smirk. "And judging from your reaction now…I guess it wasn't such a good idea showing it to you, was it?"
"Of course it wasn't!" Yuuki shrieks suddenly with renewed vigour, making me jump slightly with alarm. "I look so fat!"
This time…it is a full fifteen minutes until I can regain breath from my laughter once more. A full fifteen minutes until I can earn her forgiveness and the two of us sit together once more, watching the bright, burnished moonlight falling over the dark land in companionable silence.
This time, it is Yuuki who breaks the silence.
"You must have liked somebody in Kurosu Gakuen too, ne, Hanabusa?"
I smile silently, merely gazing at her—wondering at once how somebody could be so utterly, supremely unaware that the one before her slowly dies each day to see her in the arms of another…wondering at once how to answer her. "Perhaps."
"Ehhh? Who was it? Who was it, Hanabusa?"
I grin wickedly. "Ask no questions and you'll hear no lies."
"Wha…Hanabusa, that's not fair! There must have been someone!"
"As I said…perhaps."
"But, Hana-" her rising intonation signals the start of yet another tirade. And so, I speak the truth this time to spare her the trouble.
"What if I said it was you, Yuuki-chan?"
"-not fai…eh? What was that, Hanabusa?"
I sigh, wondering for a moment if she is truly as innocent as she seems. "What if I said…that I was in love with you, Yuuki-chan?"
The sudden soft gravity to my tone is not lost on her either.
Her gaze saddens, a dark shadow passing over it as she turns away from me, eyes lowered, lips trembling. "I can only hope that that never happens, Hanabusa," Yuuki whispers.
Agony. Cold, cruel, raw, inexplicable agony flooding my chest, pounding through vein, raging through my temples—spears of lacerating torment exploding in the pit of my skull. A humourless laugh escapes my lips—it must sound more like a hoarse, dry sob. "And why is that, Yuuki-chan?"
From where I find the strength to speak…I will never know.
She smiles sadly at me. "You are far too dear to me to ever feel such pain, Hanabusa," Yuuki says gently. "I…I would not want you to feel even a moment of grief because of me. It would hurt me as much as it does whenever Kaname-oniisama leaves me. Perhaps…perhaps even more."
The dry, humourless laugh once more. How can you know? How can you ever know? I cannot ever allow you to know…"Do I really mean that much to you, Yuuki-chan?" I ask softly.
Yuuki leans over towards me, planting a soft kiss on my cheek. Her eyes, when they withdraw are soft with pain, and—what I can scarcely hope to believe—love. "This much, and far more, Hanabusa," she murmurs.
And for what seems to rival eternity, I merely gaze at her like a foolish lad—dazed, confused, exhilarated, terrified, overjoyed…feeling my skin warm and tingle from where her lips—softer than any sakura petal, warmer than any mantle—have touched.
The Kuran princess stands to her feet in a single, graceful motion—fingers resting, almost caressingly, upon the mop of golden curls below her, fingernails raking lightly into my flesh, making my eyes close with pleasure. She turns soon, walking towards the house behind us, turning over her shoulder to speak.
"Come inside soon, Hanabusa…you'll catch a cold."
I barely register the words, losing myself instead in the pleasant haven of her voice—feeling as though I was floating in a warm bliss which arose from her simple touch, from her simple words…feeling as though I were falling…falling into a swathe of luxurious silk and never wanting to escape. "Of course, Yuuki-chan," I murmur, eyes lingering perhaps a moment longer upon her than that considered appropriate.
She pauses suddenly, impetuously—walking towards me once more. Yuuki bends towards me, hand cupping my cheek. I lean unknowingly into her touch.
"Did you know, Hanabusa? I…I always thought you were one of the angels the Chairman would tell me stories about. No matter what you were…I always thought that somehow…somewhere, within you, it was as though you were an angel. Just…just simply good. And…and I would wish that somehow…somehow you would become my friend." She smiles wistfully. "I…I would even get a little jealous whenever the other Day Class girls would call out for you like they did, did you know? It…it wasn't like what I'd feel for Kaname-oniisama. But I…but I…" her gaze turns solemn. "I wouldn't want to share you with anyone else, Hanabusa. That's why I…that's why I…"
I wait, breathless, the joy in my heart turning now from a silent whisper to a glorious crescendo.
Yuuki swallows. "That's why I…that's why I want you to stay by my side. Always. Always, Hanabusa." Her gaze is steady, unwavering—even though there lingers in it a shyness. "Will you? Will you…always stay by my side?"
The unspoken plea in her eyes is enough. She does not even need to say the words—and yet, to hear them from her…it is enough for me.
It is…truly in moments like these that I actually believe in the power humans so foolishly place upon idols and spirits. It is...truly in moments like these...that I believe that Kuran Yuuki could come to love me…Aido Hanabusa. Not Kuran Kaname. Not Kiryuu Zero. Me.
It is...truly in moments such as these that I feel the sweetest contentment within me...as pure, as untainted, as undefiled as a mountain spring.
I smile at her, leaning forward to press my lips to her forehead.
"Always…Yuuki-chan."
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