[fic] Sonata in C Major: Chapter III
Title: Sonata in C Major
Notes: Original characters.
Summary: See Chapter I.
Chapter III
Kaede is unsure how he feels about her intrusion. This particular music room at this particular time has always been his. His space, his air, his silence to do with as he pleases. A selfish part of him wishes that she would leave, because somehow having someone else here ruptures the delicate hold he has on a dream. An even more selfish part is glad she returns, day after day - having some form of normalcy to his school life is already a gift he had never dared to wish for.
Sharing the quiet with her neither fractures it nor shatters it.
Natsuhana Yuki (he learns her name over the weeks; learns it as Yuki first when a too-eager brother shouts from her phone and is rather refreshed that things happen out of order with her) seems content to sit by the window and read. Occasionally, she writes, pen tapping against note paper to the tempo of his songs.
In the end, he is the one who sacrifices the harmony he so prizes. This girl reminds him too much afternoon light, warm and melodic, bent into all sorts of colors and all sorts of notes. She is too fascinating by far, her enigmatic smile flashing across her soft mouth like a shaft of spring sun. He asks her if she has a favorite and she admits, almost sheepishly, that she does not know much about Classical Western music. Inexplicably, that brings a grin to his face. It is nice to know that the flawless ice princess he hears so much about is only human. It is even nicer that this human-Yuki is all his.
A too-long month later, he hasn't seen her for nearly twenty days. Kaede does not expect to see her when he opens the door, but he hopes in spite of it. "Kaede," she greets, genuine surprise and genuine pleasure shining in her voice. He reaches for her before he knows why, before he knows that he has missed her until this very moment that she is sitting in her chair by her window, slim book open on her lap.
Yuki is startled. He has never touched her before, not really. They are comfortable with each other, in an ethereal, slightly unbelievable way, but he is touching her now and she is too shocked to stiffen in his arms.
"She's worse," he rasps through clenched jaws because she knows. She knows without ever having asked, because it slipped from him grain by grain until she had an entire field flourishing between them.
("Haven't seen you in a while," she says.
"Been busy."
She goes back to her novel, the sounds of pages flipping. He does not need to makes excuses.
"Been at the hospital."
She hums noncommittally. He knows he has her full attention and it is intense, intense even as he dives into it like a parched man into a desert oasis. He does not need to make excuses.)
Her stillness now has nothing to do with shock and everything to do with sorrow. Yuki's slender arms are thin and elegant, straining to reach around the broad span of his back. The tips of her fingers barely touch. Kaede drops his head forward like a string has been snipped and this marionette hangs broken in its wake. The crook of her neck catches its fall, the scent of tea and honeysuckle nearly enough to filter out the smell of antiseptic and soap that haunts him. Weakness does not suit him though and showing weakness to her of all people should scare him mindless.
It doesn't scare him.
Instead of fear he lets her hold him up until he can stand again and then he slides his hands over the curve of her hips and pulls her in. The edge of his knuckle lifts her chin and she parts her too-kissable lips to say something. He will never know what those words would have been because he is leaping now, leaping over a chasm of darkness and doubt, leaping towards the girl he is certain stands on the other side.
It is not a chaste kiss. It is not a violent kiss. She is yielding and shy and so much more than he deserves, so he takes his time. He sets fires burning along her sensitive nerves, fires burning at her mouth like a mark that will never fade. She touches his face tenderly and that is when he realizes that his cheeks are wet from tears. They haven't held hands or gone on dates. They haven't confessed feelings, whatever feelings they have swirling in their murky hearts, but Kaede is reminded once more that they are not conventional people.
They part for air and her face is flushed. To be honest, she looks a tad lost, her fingers curling into the front of his shirt, but otherwise she seems fine. "Are you okay," she asks, because she is Yuki and she is human and she would let this supernova of a moment pass them by if she thought it necessary.
He kisses her again and sears the sensations into his brain so that he will never forget her. Then it is his turn to ask, "Are we okay?"
Her smile is brilliant and joyous, erring on the stunned side, and it is corporeal evidence that her heart is too big for her chest. This human-Yuki is all his.