Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Violet ❯ Violet ( One-Shot )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

It was like breathing, this Tai Chi. Henry felt the air moving around him, felt the ebb and flow of energy in the room, tangling it's way through out the building. It was when he was this connected that he felt most at peace, most at rest within. It was so different from looking into her eyes...
Purple eyes with a glare perfected by time, vibrant, violent purple, full of vitality, vivacious, it was words like this that seemed to describe them best. There was just something about that sound of the V that could be drawn out to express the feeling that much better, even if he couldn't say it.
He looked in the bathroom mirror. His own grey eyes looked questioningly and then disapprovingly back at him. His eyes expressed how level headed he really was, how he tried to maintain composure at all times, the calmness he held onto with an iron grip. A calming grey, yes, but not strong, not powerful, not stunning like Rika's.
It wasn't just her eyes. She eked strength and control from her every movement, she knew what she wanted and she wanted it now, she was about results, not patience. Henry sighed and closed his eyes. He felt at rest. He felt calm. He felt his own passive control over what went on around him instead of the ability to acquire control just by demanding it. He could wait it out.
On his way to school, he saw her, in a grey uniform that couldn't mask, no matter how it tried, the beauty and power she had. Her pony tail spiked out every which way like a burst of flame, she cast a sneering gaze at anyone who dared to slow her down, she carried herself like royalty. Henry walked on, on the other side of the road, pretending not to notice she was there. He was. He didn't have an imperial quality, nor did he have that of a commoner; He existed on no level and all levels. He didn't carry himself high or slouch; In the simplest of Zen terms, he was.
School went in, then out. He saw her again on the way home, and she noticed him this time, but did little more than wave casually and say something to one of the girls near her. She had a fanclub of classmates behind her who saw and respected her for what she was.
Henry was. There was no respect or disrespect; he was noticed but not exceptionally above the rest or below.
Henry knew that being on all levels and none put him no further from Rika... and no closer to her.
He would never say anything of this to her. Never. She would never look at him the same again, always treat him differently if she knew. He was resolved- or maybe resigned?- to slowly get her attention, so slowly she would hardly notice it, to suddenly be so inseperably a part of her life that she would wake up one day and realize she loved him the most.
And he knew he could do it, he thought, as he met her violet gaze briefly. He was patient.