Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ kira.kira ❯ chapter three ( Chapter 3 )

.∙-*| kira kira : a Japanese onomatopoeia used to describe the twinkling of the stars |*-∙.

Thanks to: Pink Bunny, Akeru, Makoto Kudou (^^ thanks for the shield), Fierysable, Laila, Tears of Cyanide, Picaro, and TalonSage (heh, sorry 'bout the mix-up) for reviewing the last chapter. :3 I muchly appreciate it…

A/N: at bottom

Warnings/Disclaimer: see prologue

-thoughts-

kira.kira

by Koyuki Aode

Chapter 3

Due to my growing popularity, 'Tousan had locked me in.

I found this out when the kind, amicable security guard Masaru Chiyama would not let me past the door without an escort. "Little Nagi," said Masaru in his distant, monotonous tone when I protested, "Your father wants to keep you safe."

I pressed my lips together before frankly asking; "Do you know why he wants to keep me safe?"

"Because the world is dangerous," he answered simply, sounding like a Buddhist monk with an ultimate truth to share.

I did not care about that danger. All right, perhaps I did. Just a little. Maybe the urge to see Crawford again was the call of danger in a mundane yet ever-changing life.

I knew it was more than that. As I counted down 'Tousan's three days, I noticed Crawford had been to all three of the live shows we'd put on so far (we played twice each day), and I wanted to know why. The why of many things were termites in my head.

"Thank you, Masaru," I mumbled.

I looked around the large room for a diversion. Causing one would not be difficult, but doing so without attention and without so much damage would entail strategy. With the show at its end, Crawford would be on his way home.

I hopped on my feet with anxiety, offering a broad smile to Masaru's unsure gaze.

If anything, I hoped, any of these structures would just happen to-

Crash!

For an instant, I thought it was my imagination teasing me. The shelf I'd been staring at had toppled and Masaru rushed off, spouting words unfit for a monk.

The props were really sprawled about the floor, and I tasted fresh air.

I shielded my eyes from the white August morning, occasionally ducking my head beneath my spread fan as departing audience members voiced their praise. My search among them was directed towards any polished radiance in the usual neutral and gray sea of elderly Japanese. I wandered far into this ocean, until the crowd was sparse and I barely recognized where I was.

While turning around in circles, trying to remember my way, I saw him. He was gripping a metal fence, watching children cavort in a playground.

I closed my fan as I stepped up behind him, despite that my paleness was growing slick on my skin. He stepped back to meet my position, still facing the children.

"They could hurt themselves doing that," he said suddenly.

"…It's just a game."

He looked at me. "Rarely should games involve both pain and children."

The fan paper crinkled beneath my fingers as I gathered the courage to stare into his eyes. "Why?"

"It was not mine to keep," he acknowledged with a nod.

"No. I meant-" I held up the fan, "-Why did you steal my fan and send it back to me in a bouquet of flowers?"

He turned and began to walk, reaching into his pocket for car keys. "Did you get them in time?"

"… Around.. 1 o'clock… ?" I started after him. "Was that important?.." He walked faster. "Matte!" I pulled my costume up and did my best to force my weight in his direction.

"Your family is looking for you now," he grunted out, pulling his path into the road.

I stumbled after him. "Wait!!-" A car swerved to avoid hitting me.

Within the next moment, he grabbed my wrist and flew with me across the street, just out of oncoming harm's way. "Are you stupid?!" he asked roughly, looming over me as the sunlight strained to reach over his shoulders, "Go back to your home."

I cringed against the pain, feeling shame as familiar tears spilled from my eyes. "I have to know."

"What?"

"…. If you're going to kill him."

He let me go and stepped toward one of the cars sitting patiently at the curb.

"Are you?"

"I can't say."

"Why not?!"

Suddenly, he stopped. His hand shot out at me, and I flinched before realizing he did not intend pain. The heat of his palm warmed my cheek, but I did not feel his touch. "Pain doesn't become the face I saw on stage," he said gravely. He brushed away a teardrop with his thumb.

I sniffed, wondering how terrible my face must have looked. "...It's just makeup."

His eyes lightened and he returned his attention to his car keys. "What was your line?" he asked carelessly, as if to make light conversation. "The one you were supposed to say?"

I faltered. "You knew? You could tell?…" My heart froze. I'd left my job undone. The illusion of kabuki had become an old, stale candle.

"It wasn't completely obvious," he shook his head. The chase now, was reversed. I let the sidewalk grow between us, but he continued to advance. "Was that your first time in the spotlight? The way you carried yourself then reflected an emotion within you that was different from a normal performance."

"Boku wa…."

"What you said were not lines, and your actions were not the mannerisms of a fictional character."

The ground softened suddenly. We were in the grass of a park. "I..."

"And your eyes, they reflected a conviction I've never seen before."

"… It's just a character. Only makeup…"

"I don't look at makeup."

[tbc]

A/N: Ok, this was supposed to be attached to chapter two.. but um.. I forgot. X_x; And I meant to correct that yesterday, but I forgot… again (college is one huge distraction!) and ended up only uploading the revised chapter 2. ^_^;;; So um. Yeah. This would be more fitting as chapter 2.75 or something cuz its so small. Gah, I need to stop coddling this fic…