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Twinkling in the sky, the stars look like little planets from their position on the scorched rooftop of the abandoned building. All of them surround the bright full moon, creating a light show amongst the midnight hue of purples, blacks and blues as if the entire sky was magical, something straight out of a fantasy novel. The wind blew gently, a calming breeze that rustled the cherry blossom trees and caused petals to scatter into the air, falling as if they were in slow-motion, and the silence that surrounded the world at the very moment was like a calming melody being played on the piano—quiet yet relaxing at the same time.
She finds a hand holding her own when she looks down.
It’s scarred, skin raised and a different color, and the fingers feel bony and too long, curling around her hand until their polished nails could scratch her palm ever so gently. A black sleeve gently brushes against her when the hand moves and she tears her eyes away when her hand is squeezed, applying a gentle amount of pressure in response. The night sky looks beautiful, like something out of a fairytale book, and she can’t help the smile twitching at her lips. “It’s glittery,” her voice is soft, wind gently causing her hair to flow in the breeze, “the sky I mean, it looks all sparkly, the stars look like glitter, the moon looks like a pretty lamp in the softest shade of blue.” Once the words leave her mouth, her face heats up almost immediately and she quickly slips her hand away, covering her cheeks with a rapidly increasing red face.
“Uh I mean—it’s pretty, the sky is pretty and well, of course it’s pretty, it’s the sky, it’s always pretty! Well uh unless it’s raining then it kinda looks dark and dreary but uh, wait no—”
A laugh cuts her off from her ramble and she whips her head to the source to see the boy beside her with his arms around his stomach, head thrown back and hat askew on his head, even the blanket that had been draped around the both of them was slipping off his shoulders. “It’s not funny!” She scowls, “c’mon, stop laughing!” Her hands leave her face then, reaching out to grasp at the boy’s jacket and yank him over but with all his squirming, the girl found herself slipping over her stockings and sending them crashing into the roof with a loud thud .
At least, she supposed as she sat up and gingerly rubbed at her feet, that had gotten the boy to stop laughing. Opening her mouth, she turned to him, ready to lecture when his face caused her falter. Redder than the blanket on top of her, his eyes were wide and the pupils had somehow gotten smaller as he laid there, staring at her as if he'd seen a ghost. “What?” Her head tilts, “why are you looking at me like that?
The boy’s head snaps to the side and she swears she can hear a loud crack from the action. “You uh…” his cheeks puff out and he flexes his gloved hands from above his head, “you’re kinda uh….” And then he whispers, low and quiet into the night, that it was a surprise she could hear any words at all, “ straddling me, you know? ”
Slowly, she looked down to notice that in her haste to quiet him, her body had fallen on top of his and now, she was on his stomach—pinning him down as she massaged her hurt feet. She blinked once, twice, then jumped and tripped over the blanket again, crashing into the roof and making the boy rise up in alarm. “Gah! Hey! How are you this clumsy, is it your daikon legs or what?!” He rushed forward as she sat up, skidding to a halt as the girl yanked the blanket off her head and snarled at him all at the same time.
“My legs are fine , thank you very much!” He looks sheepish, hands held up in surrender as he takes a step back, “it’s you who made me fall! Laughing like that, do you find my embarrassment funny too?!” Her lips form a pout as her cheeks puff up and the boy rubs the back of his neck, carefully walking forward as the wind blows by, a shiver passing her through her small body. Tugging the blanket around her more securely, and tying the front into a little knot, he looked away as he fiddled with the makeshift ribbon he had made.
His voice was low when he spoke, only heard because he had come so close to her. “I don’t think it’s funny,” he mumbled while fiddling with his fingers and the ribbon, “it’s..cute actually, your face gets all red and your eyes light up a bit.” When he looks back, she’s staring at him with wide eyes, the reflection of the moon behind him shining and casting his shadow onto her frame and he freezes, ears already beginning to turn pink.
“Amane-kun—”
“Ah, would you look at it, you have a cape now!”
Amane yanks her up to her feet nearly making her fall all over again as he suddenly appeared behind her, lifting up the ends of the blanket and hiding his face with it as a result. “Cape?” She repeated, trying to look behind her as he moved along with her body. “Hey! Stop moving! Let me look at it at least—!” The moment Amane moved again, she wrenched the makeshift cape from his hands and whirled around, grabbing at his face and causing him to nearly tumble to the floor in his haste to get away. Bright amber eyes stare back at her, pupils slightly smaller than normal and face reddening to a degree that she could only compare to as the pink hair her friend sported.
He has jewelry weighing him down, necklaces and rings and a satchel that was bulged out with items she didn’t know the names of. His eyes look like they hold the constellations, twinkling as the moon shines into them and suddenly, she feels her shoulders slump, fingers brushing away his hair as she leans forward and feels her forehead bump into his. “Yashiro?” Amane mumbles her name too soft and too small for her liking.
“We can’t do this,” she hates how her voice wavers, “ I can’t do this. You have a bounty on your head, Kou-kun is looking for you everywhere within the city, one wrong move and I could end up in losing you or—” the words feel too heavy to get out and yet she feels calloused hands touching her, fingers wiping away the tears she didn’t even know she had been shedding. “I—” her voice cracks, lips slightly wobbling as her hands slide down and grip at his jacket, balled into fists.
He has the audacity to look apologetic.
“I’m sorry,” he says the words as if it will magically fix their situation, as if there’s not a jail cell with his name waiting for him, “you don’t deserve to be dragged through all that.” His mask sits on his hip, black and too much like the festival he had gone to years ago, and he’s running his fingers through her hair—soft, silent, she wants him to fight with her and stop being so cooperative. “I know this probably isn’t the best time to say this…” Amane trails off as Yashiro sniffs, trying to keep the rest of her tears at bay.
There was no reason to cry over spilled milk, she knew that staying on the rooftop and watching stars fill the night sky was nothing but a pipe dream when it came to him but still—hope festered in her chest as she gripped at his jacket and twisted the fabric in her fingers. “Amane-kun,” she breathes out his name, watches as he looks down at her quizzically, “I…we don’t have to stop, we don’t have to keep playing the roles of Cat and mouse if you can just…” Yashiro doesn't say the rest, the boy before her looks upset, face twisted into a grimace as he lightly pulls his hands off him, undoes the knot around her neck with a sad, lopsided smile.
She wants to hit him. “You can’t,” she sputters, “once you leave, I’ll just chase you again and again and again ! Do you even want that life, Amane-kun? To be hunted down like you’re nothing but prey?!” Yashiro doesn’t know what she expected when Amane grins, slipping the mask back on and fixing her teary gaze with bright golden eyes.
“Then I guess I should start running then, M’lady .”