桜咲く 舞い落ちる 何も無いぼくの手の上
The cherry blossoms, it flutters down, on my hand where there is nothing
.
Their eyes met, his determined and flaming, hers uncertain and hesitant. The boy by her side took her by her wrist, saying something to her. She didn't move her eyes away from his and replied something, softly, gently, like the kind-hearted girl she was. Then, she sent him a small smile and waved, just as shyly as she felt.
He took it as a sign he could come closer. He moved, running faster and faster and reached the car. She opened the window and smiled even more happily, her eyes finally gaining a sparkling tint he had seen hundreds of times before.
"You don't even know what that mean!"
She giggled, so happy, so happy she shined with it, burst with that energy of hers. Her hands came out, small, chubby, but slightly roughened by the tonfa she wielded like her father, and she reached out for him. He stared, he stared and he stared, not wanting them on him, not wanting the contact, not wanting to actually come to terms with the fact she had entered his personal bubble, but she insisted, reached out harder, until she could grasp him. Anything. As long as she could touch him, physically reassured herself he didn't hate her, that he actually didn't mind her and her weird personality, she would smile.
And he realized he wanted her to keep that smile. He would have taken a step back, moved away but he stayed rooted on the spot and let her fingers have the briefest contact against his skin. It tingled, it was bizarre but it just felt right. And then, her grin widened further.
"Mommy, can Kyoya come play with me?"
Her mother looked at him, then at her. "Ah, but we have to ask his parents."
She pouted. "But I want to show him the dojo!"
"But—"
She opened the door and took Hibari by the hand. "Come on, Kyoya~"
Her smile was infectious. So infectious that he cracked a small one too.
.
儚くて 優しくて 壊れそう きみみたいな花
Fleeting and gentle, I'm afraid it might break, the flower that is just like you.