Disclaimer: I own Chrno, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you!
Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven.
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Ticks of the Clock
And Make it Better
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She stared at him, brow furrowed in deep concentration. Concentration so deep, in fact, that she didn't even realize he was staring right back. A warm spring breeze rustled through, his tangled locks rustling as her pigtails swayed.
Then she spoke.
"Why do you wear that?"
Chrono blinked, tilting his head. "What, this?" He plucked at his weathered poncho, confused.
Rosette shook her head, serious expression on her face. Crossing her ankles and bringing her knees to her chin, she pointed towards his forehead, eyes narrowed slightly. "No, that. The headband."
Again, he blinked. "Um. . ."
"Maybe it's a fashion statement," Joshua yawned, stretching like a cat on the picnic blanket. His eyes drooped, the bright sunlight making him feel sleepy.
In response, the devil chuckled softly. "No, it's not a fashion statement." But the boy could no longer hear him.
No matter.
Rosette was the one interested, anyway.
"Oh?" she pressed, moving suddenly. Leaning foreword on her knees, she scooted three-fourths of the way towards him; still quite solemn. "It's not to keep your hair out of your eyes, is it? Because I usually braid it, you know, and that should keep it in check. I could make it tighter, if you want. . ."
Again, Chrono smiled- though he appeared a bit nervous. Restless hands began to toy with the pocket watch around his neck. "No, no, that's not it. The braids you do are perfect the way they are, thanks. . ." He flushed slightly, knowing how stupid he sounded. "I really wear it for no reason, it's just. . . Um. . . There. . . I swear."
The girl was neither convinced nor deterred. "I don't believe you," she stated bluntly, crawling up to him on her hands and knees. His eyes screamed that he wanted to run, but his body made no movements. The sunbeams pounded down upon him, broken only by the occasional passing of an ice-cream cloud. He gulped.
"I don't see anyone else wearing bands like you," she commented, leaning towards him. The uncomfortable expression on his face intensified. She didn't seem to care. "Was it a present?"
He frowned slightly, uneasiness replaced by gloom. "No. . ."
"Was it a prize?" She pressed closer.
"No. . ."
"Were you born in it?" Her hands rested against his crossed legs.
"No!" He wrinkled his nose, indignant.
"Well, then, why do you wear it?" Rosette huffed, confused and curious. "Take it off once in a while!" Reaching out a hand, she began to tug at the headband, succeeding in her self-appointed mission before Chrono even had a chance to register her movements.
"Wait, Rosettte, don't. . . !"
But she already had. Her eyes widened in horror as his mouth clenched, wincing when the wind hit the wound. The wound hidden by the band. . . Just above his pointed ears, covered by a thin curtain of purple hair, were two huge gorges- each still red. Scabs and scars of tender pink and stomach-dropping violet caked the deep injuries that penetrated his skull; peaks of bone still visible beneath the throbbing veins that lay just beyond the layer of bruised pale flesh.
He winced when her trembling fingertips brushed it- before he forcibly yanking the headband back into place. He hissed in pain. . . .
And then in surprise. For Rosette had fallen against his back, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. Trembling with suppressed tears of fright and sympathy, she pressed her lips to the rim of the headband- giving each side a quick, sticky, candy-sweet kiss.
Chrono stiffened, bewildered. "R-Rosette. . . ?" What was she. . . ?
"What?" she snapped, masking her pity with anger. "Haven't you ever heard of kissing it to make it better?"
The devil moved his head just enough to signify 'no'. Her arms tightened gently.
"Well, you have now."
". . ." He smiled slightly, the throbbing ache in his head lessening slightly. "Yes. I suppose I have."