Author's Note: This will be a four part story.
Enjoy.
la violoniste et le cancre
2 - distant sky king
Perhaps if you'd ever set a precedent with a boy, this would be stranger.
Television and books from your childhood fed you countless perfectly-ending stories. You've been to hundreds of festivals in your life celebrating the mythological romances of star crossed characters.
Every time you hear references to the old stories in songs or when reading, you think of Haruka's smile. Every time you play your violin, you dream up festivals celebrating Haruka.
The first time you convince Haruka to sit in the cafeteria with you, you have to drag her in and stomp on her cigarettes . It's the beginning of January, and you have no business letting either Haruka or yourself catch a deathly cold whilst enjoying the sharp winter wind.
Haruka promises to keep you warm (you pretend to obliviously take her sparkling eyes as amused and not the sort of half leering they are) and you push her towards the door, promising her that sitting in the cafeteria will not destroy her reputation as the school badass. You also promising her that you'll distract her from whomever Haruka is afraid of seeing down there.
You pretend the sparkles in your eyes are amusement from Haruka's indignant sputtering - "I am not afraid, you silly girl!" - but you're really just thinking of all the new methods of distraction you want to experiment on the blonde girl.
You eat together, and laugh together. Haruka tends to come up with hundreds of inside jokes with the minutes you steal away together during the school day. You like to touch her single diamond earring when she's looking off pensively, and she likes to run her long fingers through your long green hair when your mind gets caught up somewhere far off and unreachable.
When waiting in line for the assembly once a week, or when settling in line for physical education inside the gymnasium, you tend to gravitate towards each other.
Haruka's smoking has begun to decrease because most of her free time is occupied with you, and the gym teacher recognizes Haruka's old ability surfacing through again one afternoon in class. She walks over, her voice hard but sprinkled with a truthful clarity, and tells the towering blonde girl with one eyebrow raised.
"This spring, I want you to try out for varsity track and field, Haruka. I haven't had a good sprinter since you quit. Keep this up."
Haruka's golden eyes sparkle at the not-so-subtle-order, and you bite your lip. When the physical education teacher walks away and a few of the girls start whispering to each other, you squeeze her fingers discretely and whisper that you think this could be a good thing.
Haruka gives you that look you've begun to associate with her gentler kisses, and your heart flutters excitedly.
She gives you a ride home most days, but in the mornings you tend to commute - it's your ritual to wait outside for the bus every morning, and your neighborhood is peacefully quiet in the early daylight.
On a particularly cold day in January, Haruka surprises you by throwing a couple half-slush snowballs at your window. When you come down in your pajamas to open the door, she's standing there with her rakish half grin, wearing a little black hat. She tells you that the bus and train system is shutting down for the day due to the record-setting cold and ice coating everything from streets to houses to telephone lines to the train tracks.
About ten minutes later in your kitchen, you're both sitting on the counter of the small room listening to a small blue box announce the morning news. The radio finally broadcasts which school districts are shut down for the day, and Jyuban High is one of the first schools mentioned. Haruka picks you up in her arms and twirls you around delightedly, singing a little victory chant incredibly out of tune.
This is the scene your father walks out of the bathroom to see, having just finished shaving for the morning.
You explain the reason for celebration and he just rolls his eyes and kisses you on the cheek, tells you both to behave, and goes to work for the day.
This day quickly becomes one of the fondest in your memory.
You make hot chocolate, and dive through your collection of old childhood VHS tapes, and plug into cartoons you haven't seen in years. Haruka doesn't talk much about her childhood, but you notice she doesn't recognize a lot of the names you throw at her.
When you sit on the couch, she tugs you into her arms, and by the time you're on the fourth VHS, more than three quarters of yourself is draped over Haruka. She does not like letting you go.
(Changing the tapes in the tape player is quite the challenge. You've solved the issue like this: Haruka stands up, dragging you up in her arms, she then throws you over her shoulder, which at this point you protest vehemently, she takes her sweet time choosing a tape, cheerily ignoring your grumbling, and then sits you back on the couch before following happily. You feel a little like a rag doll, but then you see Haruka's red cheeks and her pleased smile and you let her kiss your protests away.)
(This happens every time.)
Around lunchtime Haruka raids your fridge while you make more hot chocolate. You've changed out of your pajamas, and had to be careful to lock the door behind you as Haruka yelled obscenities about needing to make sure you weren't putting together some sort of trap weapon to take her unawares later.
You remember the first time she ever really paid attention to you.
By that you mean the first time you saw a glimpse of that way she acts now: warm gold eyes and that easy smile that hides in her face, just barely at the surface of her skin. It was that day at school after you'd played your first concert at Jyuban high and stunned the gathered school audience into silence after playing your own composition.
So when you take out your violin case and bring it to the living room, you feel nervous - not quite the raging killer moths you get in the ten minutes before a huge concert. This anxiety is less in your stomach and more in the quickening of your heart.
Haruka's eyes light up at the sight of the unassuming black violin case, and when you take out the old red wooden instrument and start making sure it's in tune, that dreamy smile on her face reminds you so much of a child you don't know whether to kiss her or laugh at her.
Instead, you start playing.
The beginning sounds a little like Deep Sea Tide, the piece you created in October, but as you keep playing in the silent room, the song changes, and you don't quite realize you've been playing for almost an hour until your fingers begin to sore a little and as the bow slows and the music echoes away, you raise your dark eyes to look into hers.
Her golden eyes rarely look that soft.
"I love it when you play." she says quietly, reaching out to graze the tips of her fingers along your bare shoulder.
You smile, just a little shyly, absurdly pleased.
The night ends when your father returns home to find you completely asleep in Haruka's lap, the low blue light of the television lighting up the room dimly. He steps on something crunchy (a piece of popcorn - remains of an earlier tickle fight that ended in an explosion of popcorn when you made Haruka drop the bowl.)
You had started watching an old samurai movie because Haruka got tired of the cartoons, and the movie is four hours long and in black and white. It's probably one of your favourite movies and it's quite old, and Haruka was very taken with all the swordplay and beautiful recreations of ancient famous katana.
Your father and Haruka exchange a few words, and Haruka picks up your sleepy body and puts you to bed. She kisses your lips when your father isn't looking, and then slips away from the house, a gentle smile on her face as she heads out into the cold night towards her car, parked up the street.
You wake up around one in the morning to get a class of water. You're a light sleeper, but you don't quite remember Haruka leaving or your father coming home (you do remember the sensation of being moved, and warmth slipping away from you, whispering promises in you ear.)
You open a hallway light as you open your bedroom door, and see the absolute chaotic mess Haruka and you left all over the kitchen and living room.
Rolling your eyes and muttering to yourself, you start cleaning up.
Jyuban high school reopens the next day. For the rest of the week, the cold begins to ebb away.
You still force Haruka to eat indoors, in the cafeteria. She protests a lot less, just a good grumble or two for good measure.
You're both a little less loud around each other now, there's more silence. Your eyes search each others during long moments as you both forget what you were going to say. Though at school you try to remain subtle, it becomes difficult to remember that there should be an invisible wall between you both. You don't realize you've reached for her hand until you notice a student glancing down between you both. You don't realize her familiar warmth seeping into your skin when she hovers over you, her chin resting lazily on your head until somebody raises an eyebrow at you both.
You're waiting in a crowd to enter the auditorium for a general announcement one Wednesday afternoon, and Haruka comes over to stand by your side, swinging her arm over your shoulder and pulling you close.
She whispers something in your ear and you start giggling. Ami is standing not too far from the both of you, and though you have no idea anything else exists other than Haruka and her fake whispering: "this is very serious business, Michiru", Ami is giving you both a long, inquisitive glance.
"Antlantis."
"Antlantis?"
"Yes, the mythical kingdom that was swallowed by the sea. It was said that-"
"Yes yes, I saw the Disney version. Crystals and floating Barbies and an advanced civilization. You'd really want to live in a place cursed by the gods?"
"I think the idea of living under the sea is beautiful. I would love to live there."
"Nuts. What about the sky?"
Silence. A nonchalant shrug.
"Are you completely disregarding my needs, greenie?"
"I never said you had to follow me to my dream kigndom."
"You idiot."
A reproachful glance.
"I'm warning you, I need the wind and the sky, green. Or else it's no deal."
Maybe if you'd ever set a precedent with a boy you'd realize what Ami's come over to speak with you about.
She slumps down on a chair, her fingers running through her short blue hair, and she takes off her large round glasses and looks at you with a face covered in a thick layer of apology.
"Ami-chan, what's wrong?"
"I'm so sorry to bother you about this, Michiru-sempai. But the girls wouldn't let me study in peace until I came over you to ask you about some personal information."
You smile then, because if there's any way to convince Ami to do anything, it's by holding a textbook she's never read before over a lit fire.
"It's okay Ami. Who are the girls?"
"Izumi and her little cohort." Ami looked very cross then, but not at you or at herself, and you have to bite your lip - she's rather adorable when angry. "Izumi in particular wanted to remain anonymous. But this is your business, and you have a right to know who wants to know your secrets."
Ami's voice is positively venomous. You can't help but find it funny, if a tad worrisome. She wasn't even this angry when the crazy old physics teacher in the school basement called Ami an idiot and gave her eighty-two percent on her January examination (the lowest grade Ami has ever received in her life.)
"Izumi-chan? She's a bit of a gossip, I guess, but why didn't she ask me herself?"
"Izumi is being a little coward. I want you to be reassured, Michiru-sempai, that I do not expect you to answer my query - I was forced to come ask you, but I do not want to be a messenger of secrets that are nobody's business."
Ami is fourteen, and turning fifteen this spring. She always speaks in an overly formal manner, conscious of how much younger she is compared to her classmates.
So her next words are stupefying.
"And her immature reaction to your relationship with Tenoh-sempai is simply exasperating! How could this possibly affect anything about her life? She should spend more time studying, the stupid girl!"
You never realized just how incredible Ami Mizuno is. This little fourteen year old girl stood up to the most popular girl in the grade (and according to Izumi, indeed the entire school) and her fierce loyalty makes you regret being envious of the effortless ways she seems to float through the classes that cause you the biggest headaches.
You force Haruka to sit with you at Ami's solitary table at lunch.
Haruka protests vehemently.
"This is really quite unfair. I sit in the cafeteria, I carry your books for you, I drive you home after school -"
"The only thing I really asked of you was to come inside because I was cold but I still wanted to be with you. The other things, you just did yourself."
"But your violin hand is precious and shouldn't be holding so many books!" Haruka says seriously, stalling the entrance into the large, utlitarian dining hall.
"My hands are just fine, thank you." you grasp the back of her white collared shirt and start tugging gently towards the large double doors.
"I don't want to sit next to preteens. My reputation will suffer!"
"She's not a preteen, Haruka. She's a fifteen year old genius three years ahead of her peers. She's also very brave. Now shut up and act your age."
"Brave? She's a blue haired midget!"
You glare at the tall girl.
"And your a mean giant with broomsticks for limbs that doesn't know when to stop using peroxide."
Haruka blinks. Then she whistles, grinning widely.
"Meow!" she says in a low singsong voice. "Little kitty's got claws!"
You ignore her antics, grasping her collar and leading her to where your calculus friend is sitting. "And my hair is natural!" Haruka protests finally, grumbling as she stops resisting.
Ami is reading a book on neuroscience when you both arrive, and looks very shocked to see you both hovering over the free chairs.
It pleases you to no end that despite Ami's initial shyness at Haruka's brash manners, the little blue-haired girl doesn't give up an inch of space to Haruka's incessant (and not always gentle) teasing.
"Ami-chan, who knows?"
"Chiefly the seniors girls. I don't think anybody in the lower grades know. I haven't really been paying attention, so I suspect I am not a great authority on this matter."
"And you?"
"What about me, sempai?"
"Do you...well...what do you think? This is all rather unusual, I suppose."
"I think that if you and Tenoh-sempai are happy, then I am delighted. Besides, your calculus grades have improved by an average margin of 12% since December and I have not seen you study more than before, so I cannot possibly be disapproving of your happiness."
The small girl's logic has you grinning unabashedly from ear to ear.
"Ami, you're an amazing person. I hope you know that."
Very uncharacteristic blushing on the young girl's face.
Maybe if you'd ever set a precedent with a boy, you'd realize why students startle at the idea of two girls holding hands together in the halls. The teachers don't intervene because the school's regulations only apply to individuals showing public displays of affection to the opposite gender.
Sometimes you guilty dream of Haruka sweeping you off your feet in front of everybody - you share the daydream with said blonde, who starts making up the most ridiculous scenarios for you to laugh at.
You stop wondering what setting a precedent with a boy would change about the "now". You've decided that their careless and arrogant nature bore you, as well as their willingness to partake in the atmosphere of imposed judgement that seems to form whenever you walk by a particular set of students.
Haruka asks you out on a proper date up one warm day on the roof. She told you she missed the wind, and you decided that today was warm enough to brave the elements again.
To the proposed idea of going out together, you nod excitedly.
"What did you have in mind?"
She just tells you to be ready Saturday morning, relatively early.
Up there with the mild wind you can smell the smell of slowly defrosting earth and the cars faraway rolling along the roads, and all the sounds of the first birds reappearing despite the snow still on the ground. You're leaning against the edge of a railing, facing Haruka against the bright sky. Her fingers gently set themselves on the sides of your neck, grazing along your jaw, and her lips against yours are warm.
Despite the milder weather Haruka's warmth remind you of the cold still against you skin, and you wrap your arms around her waist and hold yourself against the girl, unable to think of anything other than soft lips on your skin and staying as close to her as possible.
You both miss the afternoon bell signaling the end of lunch period, and you nearly skip class.
(You run into your English class breathless, half an hour in, sputtering apologies at the teacher and explaining that you'd fallen asleep in the library, trying to catch up on homework. It's your first offense, so the teacher only assigns you an extra assignment for the tardiness, warning you that sleeping should be done in bed, at night, and not at school in the library.)
Saturday morning, you've woken up rather early, even by your standards. You've cleaned the kitchen twice, and are about to check the dishwasher when your eyes land on the monthly calendar stuck on the fridge's door.
The red circle around the black date sends your heart down to your toes, and your blood turns to ice underneath your skin.
Moving on autopilot, as if navigating through a dream, you set the wash cloth grasped between your fingers quietly down on the counter. Quieter than a draft along the floor, you head to the front door, and nervously walk down the flights of stairs to where the mailboxes of the apartment building are, stacked along the wall of the entrance hallway.