Disclaimer: I don't own noir..yeah..
It had been a week since she had last used a gun. The hiring of Noir had halted and there was nothing left for Kirika here in the apartment. Or was there? This apartment was her home. Why did she call this place home?
Because of Mireille.
Which led her wonder..Had Mireille found the letter?
In the empty apartment, she walked towards the withered plant sitting alone in the corner, and pondered the inspiration behind the letter to her partner.
* * *
As she lay in bed, Kirika's feelings left her face lightly burning. It had been a weird feeling in her..heart? Something felt different that day, or to be more exact, the whole week. She decided that very day to figure out this problem.
Getting out of bed, and making sure not to awake her heavily sleeping partner, Kirika slipped into her jacket and went for a morning stroll.
The busy streets of Paris seemed to have been blocked out of Kirika's mind as she wandered aimlessly down the road. Her clouded mind seemed to sustain in her head. She was so lost in thought she didn't realized that she had rested herself in a tree's shade.
What was this feeling? She thought, placing a hand on her chest.
Love.
What was love? She thought back to her classmates' frenzied giddiness over the cutest boy in school.
Could it be then? Maybe.
Laughter.
In front of her, a young couple was laughing together. The man produced from out of nowhere, a bouquet of flowers. The woman accepted, blushing. They took a seat on a nearby bench and continued their conversation.
"The men are supposed to give a gift to the woman," her Japanese 'friend' had said in the past.
Kirika's mind reeled. Her own relationship with Mireille had never been anything like the couple. She became more confused.
Maybe it wasn't love?
"Ah, Young Love."
Kirika looked to the side to find an old man standing next to her, supported by the tree. She could feel he was of no hostility. Turning her head to the couple, she discovered them gone.
"I can tell you have problems yourself, by the way you stare at them," the old man asserted. After a moment's silence, his brow raised. "Am I right?" he asked.
"Mm," Kirika nodded and sat there staring ahead.
"What is Love?" she was shocked to find words tumbling off her lips.
"Love is..understanding.." the old man started to drift off. "Love is when you know her, and that empty feeling you get without her. You feel you understand her so much, you can feel her thoughts and know her expressions." He laughed. "Love is when you know her better than you know yourself."
* * *
Searching under the flower, Kirika found the letter missing. She smiled. So Mireille had found the letter after all.
A pang in her chest changed her expression. Her partner hadn't said anything about the letter.
Mireille..didn't love her?
The sound of the door unlocking brought the saddened girl back to her senses. Mireille stepped into the apartment to find a distraught Kirika.
Unknowingly to herself, Mireille walked up to Kirika's back and embraced her in a hug.
"I bought these for you," she said cheerfully, as she handed a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolate to the younger girl.
A 'friend' had once said a person gives chocolate and flowers to the one they love
Kirika turned around and began to cry into her partner's shirt.
So she did love her after all.
A/N: Oh yeah! Noir! My first and last fanfic, so I thought, why not Noir?
Btw. The old man is talking about his own love or "her" while Kirika imagines his words into her own situation. Please Read and Review..and..write..more..Noir..fanfiction.
It had been a week since she had last used a gun. The hiring of Noir had halted and there was nothing left for Kirika here in the apartment. Or was there? This apartment was her home. Why did she call this place home?
Because of Mireille.
Which led her wonder..Had Mireille found the letter?
In the empty apartment, she walked towards the withered plant sitting alone in the corner, and pondered the inspiration behind the letter to her partner.
* * *
As she lay in bed, Kirika's feelings left her face lightly burning. It had been a weird feeling in her..heart? Something felt different that day, or to be more exact, the whole week. She decided that very day to figure out this problem.
Getting out of bed, and making sure not to awake her heavily sleeping partner, Kirika slipped into her jacket and went for a morning stroll.
The busy streets of Paris seemed to have been blocked out of Kirika's mind as she wandered aimlessly down the road. Her clouded mind seemed to sustain in her head. She was so lost in thought she didn't realized that she had rested herself in a tree's shade.
What was this feeling? She thought, placing a hand on her chest.
Love.
What was love? She thought back to her classmates' frenzied giddiness over the cutest boy in school.
Could it be then? Maybe.
Laughter.
In front of her, a young couple was laughing together. The man produced from out of nowhere, a bouquet of flowers. The woman accepted, blushing. They took a seat on a nearby bench and continued their conversation.
"The men are supposed to give a gift to the woman," her Japanese 'friend' had said in the past.
Kirika's mind reeled. Her own relationship with Mireille had never been anything like the couple. She became more confused.
Maybe it wasn't love?
"Ah, Young Love."
Kirika looked to the side to find an old man standing next to her, supported by the tree. She could feel he was of no hostility. Turning her head to the couple, she discovered them gone.
"I can tell you have problems yourself, by the way you stare at them," the old man asserted. After a moment's silence, his brow raised. "Am I right?" he asked.
"Mm," Kirika nodded and sat there staring ahead.
"What is Love?" she was shocked to find words tumbling off her lips.
"Love is..understanding.." the old man started to drift off. "Love is when you know her, and that empty feeling you get without her. You feel you understand her so much, you can feel her thoughts and know her expressions." He laughed. "Love is when you know her better than you know yourself."
* * *
Searching under the flower, Kirika found the letter missing. She smiled. So Mireille had found the letter after all.
A pang in her chest changed her expression. Her partner hadn't said anything about the letter.
Mireille..didn't love her?
The sound of the door unlocking brought the saddened girl back to her senses. Mireille stepped into the apartment to find a distraught Kirika.
Unknowingly to herself, Mireille walked up to Kirika's back and embraced her in a hug.
"I bought these for you," she said cheerfully, as she handed a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolate to the younger girl.
A 'friend' had once said a person gives chocolate and flowers to the one they love
Kirika turned around and began to cry into her partner's shirt.
So she did love her after all.
A/N: Oh yeah! Noir! My first and last fanfic, so I thought, why not Noir?
Btw. The old man is talking about his own love or "her" while Kirika imagines his words into her own situation. Please Read and Review..and..write..more..Noir..fanfiction.