Author's Note (before we begin): Hello again, everyone! Well, it's been almost two years since my last story, "Spilling Stars", posted here on I've decided to return with what I first intended to be a oneshot, but it kind of…er…grew XD I think it might be a short story. But then, it may be longer like Spilling Stars!

I'd like to thank everyone for all their support of Spilling Stars, and I hope you all will enjoy this story too! Hopefully my writing has improved. (If not, that'd be shameful xD)

Now, without any further ado, I present:

Sakurairo Hanabi

By Fantasiimaker

Chapter 1

She crammed her hands over her ears, but it didn't really help.

So she pulled on her headphones and searched for something rockish. With maybe a touch of anger. Or sadness. Or both.

She closed her eyes against the afternoon light and tried to meld herself into the music. Breathe. Her mind was racing now, blinding in a blur of redness, but it would pass. It would go away, it always did. Soon. Soon.

She could only hear their voices faintly now. Only background noise.

Their voices.

-----

Syaoran lifted his pencil dully, then dropped it with a soft clatter against his notebook. He felt somewhat guilty that he wasn't paying a bit of attention to the history documentary playing, but then, it wasn't his fault that he couldn't concentrate today. Half the class was asleep, anyway. Damn morning classes.

He glanced quickly at the teacher, then carefully inched his hand into his backpack and retrieved a small meat bun. Ah, breakfast. So much more interesting than…whatever the hell that video was talking about, anyway. He held the bun beneath his nose, inhaled longingly, and poised himself to take a bite.

A loud knock echoed from the door, sending Syaoran's hand plunging back into his backpack. "Damn," he muttered, pressing his face against the cold desk surface. He heard someone open the door and walk toward the teacher's desk. Two people. Some soft speaking, and then one set of footsteps left the classroom.

Syaoran shifted his head to the side. It was a girl.

Her back was to him, but he could feel her stiffness through her posture. New student. She nodded to the teacher and paused, scanning the room for a seat.

Oh, sit here, sit here! Syaoran thought at the empty seat in front of him.

She turned and sat down at a desk in the very back of the room.

-----

At the mid-morning break, she sat on the low stone wall alone, scuffing her shoes lightly against the grass. Syaoran was laughing and teasing Yamazaki about his crush when he noticed her sitting there. Her hair was a light honey-brown and slid to a length just past her shoulders, where it seemed to change color in the shadows.

"What's her name?" he said aloud, half to himself.

"Go find out! Ask her!" laughed Yamazaki, giving him a shove toward the girl.

Syaoran gave his friend a look, then shrugged and went to her.

"Hey, what's your name?"

"Why are you so rude!" Yamazaki yelped. He gave Syaoran's head a smack from behind; outraged, Syaoran caught his hand and whirled him around in fighting position.

In the corner of his eye, he thought he caught something sparkling in the girl's eye for a moment. But it faded when he turned to face her again.

"My name is Sakura." She looked steadily back at him, and he almost looked away. There was something wrong. Her mouth was smiling, just barely, but there was no warmth. It was as though her face was frozen, a steely grey mask. Syaoran shivered.

"What are you looking at?" she asked.

Syaoran snapped back. "Oh, sorry," he said. "I'm Syaoran. Nice to meet you." He held out his hand, but she only stared at it. Flushing and confused, he took his hand back.

"W-well," he stammered. "This is Yamazaki. Yamazaki? Y-yama…" His friend was nowhere in sight. "Oh dammit, the fool ditched me," he muttered under his breath.

Sakura was still looking at him, and this time even the frozen smile was gone. "If you feel uncomfortable, no one's telling you to stick around. Just go."

Astonished, Syaoran stumbled back. She was attacking him for no reason! "Fine, I'm going!" he snapped. "I'm going now! Have a good time sitting on your own!" He whirled around furiously and went in search of Yamazaki.

He didn't turn around again, so he didn't see the color that finally flooded back into her eyes.

The color of pain.

-----

"So she completely rejected you?" Yamazaki laughed as he tossed the calculus book at Syaoran.

"Nothing to reject!" Syaoran roared from the bed as he dodged the book. It bounced harmlessly against the pillow. "Stop chucking things across the room, will you? You're going to kill somebody!"

Clutching a wad of homework, Yamazaki tossed himself onto the bed instead. "What do you mean, nothing to reject? You were trying to make friends with her."

"Well, not anymore," growled Syaoran. "Come on, let's finish this chapter's assignment. The test is this Friday."

"You're right, you know," Yamazaki smiled. "You probably shouldn't be too nice. That's why you're in this predicament with Tomoyo, right?"

"AARGH, SHUT UP!" Syaoran launched himself at Yamazaki and pinned him down against the blankets. "Don't talk about it anymore! I'll take care of it!"

Yamazaki was turning blue. "O-okay," he croaked. Syaoran sighed and let go of his friend.

"See!" twinkled Yamazaki cheerfully. "You are way too nice!"

-----

After they finished their work and Yamazaki left, Syaoran closed his eyes and leaned back into his chair. Tomoyo. The most beautiful girl he had ever known. Not only in looks, oh no, not by far. She was beautiful in almost every category that could be defined by beauty: her kindness was beautiful, her smarts were beautiful, her voice, her dark eyes that flashed when she was excited…

"Oh Tomoyo," he breathed. He almost couldn't help thinking of her lips and her body, but reality pulled him back again. Eriol was popular with the girls. With the guys as well, come to think of it. It was crazy; the kid was good at everything, almost magically so. Plus, he had lived in England, so he was just the type that Tomoyo would admire. A classic, well-rounded gentleman, Syaoran thought bitterly.

Eriol had come to him yesterday. "I know that Tomoyo is a close friend to you," he had said pleasantly. "So I'd like to ask you first: Is it all right if I ask her out?"

"N-n-now?" Syaoran had gasped.

"No, of course not," Eriol had laughed, dismissing that with a wave of his hand. "I'm going to wait until it seems like she's ready. But I really like her, and I'm hoping that she might like me too, someday."

She probably already does, Syaoran thought grimly as he recalled the conversation. I'm just her friend, dammit. Everyone kept asking if we were going out because we were so close, but she had kept insisting, so sweetly, that I'm such a wonderful friend, I'm like a brother. In other words, I'm…nothing. Syaoran smashed his hand against his desk in frustration.

I'll never be…

Tsuzuku - to be continued.