/a.n./Phew! It's been a while since I wrote anything for the SK fandom! This idea just popped into my head at some odd hour of the morning so I though what the heck? This fic follows the manga, just to be clear. I tried to keep it lighthearted, to give myself a break from all the drama. Remember dear readers, reviews will be loved and cherished forever! Plus you'll get a delicious virtual cookie! Yum!

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Surreptitious

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Hana ran through the tall grass, the weeds tickling his ankles with each step. The breeze tangled his hair and made if fall in front of his eyes; forcing him to swipe a small hand over his forehead every once in a while. His laugh chimed in the wind, light and carefree as he whizzed through the trees, catching the occasional glimpses of birds trying to race with him.

He was lazy by nature, sure – but there had always been a special place reserved in his heart for running. Not the kind of running his mother made him do though. The kind he apparently needed to do. He didn't like strapping the weights to his ankles, or the time limitations. His father sometimes tried to soften him about that kind of running – deeming that he himself had to undergo that kind of "training" when he was young, and from the same trainer. Maybe slave driver was a more accurate term.

But this kind of running, when he could enjoy the feel of the wind licking at his face – ah yes, this he loved…

Finally exhausted by his own little game, he came to a gradual halt. Hushed murmurs reached his ears from where he stood amidst the shrubs. He swerved around a bit, only to see two figures huddled together a little way away. Crouching down beneath a wide oak tree, he peaked out from behind the trunk and peered intently at the spot where they sat.

He blushed a little as they came into focus. He always felt like he was interrupting something when he saw them like this; even if they were unaware of his presence. It was rare for them to be close openly; and whenever Hana saw them like this, it would make his cheeks redden. Maybe it was because he wasn't used to seeing them together as a couple, but there was something in the scene that made him feel like he was intruding a private occasion.

The man's head rested on the woman's lap, eyes closed as far as Hana could see. Her fingers were tangled in his chocolate brown hair, re-arranging the spikes. Her hair – blond, like his own – blew into her face. Hana watched as the man lifted his arm and brushed it away, letting his hand linger momentarily on her cheek. The woman raised her own hand and placing it atop his, leaned in.

Hana turned away immediately, resting his back against the broad trunk of the tree. His cheeks were scarlet by now. He had always found these kinds of moments between his parents to be quite…intimate. He didn't see much of them like this – but when he did, he understood. Even at age seven, he understood all the hidden meanings behind their actions.

His parents were like muffins, he concluded.

His father was like a soft muffin, with raisins and blueberries and nuts protruding from the sides. You could see exactly what he was made of, you just couldn't quite see how much of what he contained. His mother was a different story. She was like a crunchy muffin. Hard to bite into, but if you made the effort to – there was melted chocolate in it.

Peeking out from behind the trunk, Hana saw that his parents still lay in the exact same position as before. He smiled to himself. They were never like this in public, never so close to each other. Anybody looking from the outside would doubt they were even friends, let alone see that they were a married couple.

But Hana saw it. He saw it even when they tried exceptionally hard to mask it. It was there in the fleeting looks they sometimes exchanged, in the softening of their usually tense postures when they were around each other, it was there in the glances that trailed behind each other when they thought nobody was looking. Hana hadn't known them for a long time, but he had come to known them well. And even though they hadn't been his parents for long – he still loved them.

Everyone said that Tamao Nee-chan had taken after his mother. Maybe that was the reason he had been able to accept Anna as a mother so quickly – because there were so many similarities between the mother that he had grown up with, and the mother who had had to leave him as a baby.

She tried hard, he knew. She tried so hard to be the mother she had failed to be in the past, to make up for all the lost time. So did his father. Hana knew that they still felt guilty for having to leave him when he was so young. But he forgave them for it. He understood, though he still got mad at them every once in a while.

Moments like this made up for all the lost ones. When he saw them contended and peaceful like this, it made up for all the memories he didn't have with them.

They were here now, and that was all that mattered.

Tamao Nee-chan had been a good mother to him, and for that he was ever grateful. But there was something about his real mother that he hadn't been able to find with Tamao. He still couldn't fully place what that "something" was, but he could feel it in the smiles she gave him. Like these moments, her smiles were rare. Maybe that was what made them so special.

He risked another glance at their direction, and saw that they had changed positions. His father was propped up against a nearby tree, his mother leaning against his chest. Both of their eyes were closed.

Then, very slowly, his father's eyes opened. His mouth turned up into a grin as his eyes landed on Hana peeking out from behind the tree.

He winked at him. Hana returned the grin with one of his own, waved at him, and turned away – deciding to leave his parents to their privacy.

The edges of his grin lingered as he skipped along the trees once more. They were happy, and as long as they had smiles on their faces; he would be happy as well. Even if those smiles were hidden sometimes.