Title: 39. Take aim like Artemis
Pairing/Character/s: Yuki/Machi
Word Count: 307 words
Summary: They met several times before they collided. Fate has a funny way of creating beginnings.
Dedication: Does anyone remember reading FB fanart and coming across this one of Kyo and Tohru, featuring the first line of this story? Yeah, thank you, mystery fan.
A/N: I like this one, actually. It's kind of funny. I'm sorry about the mess-up. I named my documents unhelpful names like 'g' and 'e' and accidentally uploaded the same thing...
How many times had they walked past each other before they collided?
The truth is, they have met once before. They collided, but forgot. Sometimes life is like that. Sometimes people ignore what could possibly be a beginning.
How was Machi supposed to know that this was her future husband as he banged his tin of doggie biscuits against her hip? How was Yuki even going to recognize her as a girl with her hair in a cap and her rage goading her to carefully aim and miss, smashing her bag of apples into his knee? They move on, hurt and mad.
By the time they each get home, they're pissed. There's a black bruise on her hip. There's a black bruise on his knee.
Time flies by. Bruises fade.
When they meet again in that room; that unnecessary order, her hip hurts. Machi thinks she must be going crazy. She didn't hit it on anything. She lifts up her white shirt, and sees a grayish bruise on her hip. She doesn't dwell on it because her stomach rumbles at that moment.
Yuki is almost out of the school when his knee hurts. He figures it's a pulled muscle or something equally boring as he goes down the stairs. He takes off his pants for a shower, surprised to see a grayish bruise on his knee. He shrugs it off.
It's probably nothing. Two minds are connected for one moment.
Even now, when she's fighting to get back her maple leaf bookmark, her side hurts.
"Did you just kick me?" Yuki demands, feeling the bruise on his knee.
"Give it back!" she snarls, deciding the pain is from fighting.
That night, two bruises fade and love blooms a tiny flower.
OK, it might actually be frustration and hate, but those are pretty passionate emotions, too.
Close enough.