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Rejected
Stories:: Fan-fiction:: Romance - Rating: Everyone 10+ - Submit comments here

“A school play,” Ishco chuckled. “That promises to be entertaining.”

“Some of the girls wanted me to play Cinderella,” I admitted, smiling a little.

Ishco laughed, but ended up coughing.

“Ishco, if you’re not feeling up to it, you really don’t have to make dinner. I’m sure Honda-san will,” I told her, rising from the table.

“Really, Yuki-kun, I’m fine,” the redhead insisted in her stubborn way as she stirred the stew.

“But you’ve been absent for a week from school – if you’re that sick,” I pressed on, “you really should just sleep.”

“Yuki-kun, I’m fine,” Ishco insisted. “I’ve been absent for so long, I’m beginning to feel useless. Like Kyo,” she added darkly.

I couldn’t help but smile a little, and sat back down. “If you’re sure.”

“Positive,” she nodded. “Tohru can’t do everything around here, anyway. I came here – I’m going to earn my keep.”

I smiled at her, though she couldn’t see me, as her back was turned.

That’s when I realized it.

I loved her.

I found it difficult to pinpoint exactly why – I mean, she really was brash, belligerent, loud…. And yet, I found myself attracted to her – I traced it back, and realized it was pretty much ever since she started living here. She was stubborn, and determined; she always seemed to have a smile; and she was always so full of energy.

It wasn’t one of those things that I had a lot of time to think about. I could tell she was drawing towards Kyo – any fool could spot that. Their arguments were more frequent lately, but shorter lived. The few times they ended up laughing, I could almost feel her slipping away.

That’s why I’ve come to enjoy talking with her while she makes dinner so much. I’ve been doing so for as long as she’s been at the house. I just sit at the table, and she goes about making dinner, and we talk – about school, about friends, about… about whatever we want to.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt that free around anyone before. Sometimes, it seems as if I could talk to her about Akito, and my mother. But then dinner’s ready, and I don’t get the chance.

Sometimes, though, while we’re talking, I stop. I just don’t say anything for a bit, and watch her. I didn’t realize it before, but she is very pretty. The way she holds her hair back, the way she stands…. Then it’s over as she pulls me back to the present with an odd look or, “Yuki-kun?”

More and more lately – sometimes even during class – I’ve found myself staring at her, wondering what she’s thinking. She’s gotten quite a bit of flack for that from my fan club – so I tend to feel guilty when I catch myself staring anymore.

She’s slowly slipping away, falling for Kyo. The only thing I can hold onto, though, the only bit of hope I have is in knowing that – while she is leaning towards Kyo – she’s still unwilling to make the jump. Maybe… maybe if I can catch her before she does.

* * *

“Uwah, the play’s drawing closer,” she was complaining to me a couple weeks later. She was sighing a lot, and didn’t seem as happy as I remember her being.

“But you’re not in the play, are you?” I asked her, propping my head up with my arm, resting my elbow on the table. “I could understand… Honda–san, for instance, getting all worked up about it.”

She didn’t say anything for a bit as she adjusted some pots and pans on the stove and surrounding counter space. Then she came and sat down next to me. “We’ll let the stew simmer for a bit,” she explained before going back to the topic of the play.

“Well, I didn’t think I’d be in it. Let’s just put it this way – I requested not to be. But,” she sighed, “last minute – yesterday, in fact – some girl came up to me and asked if I could play one of the extras at Prince Charming’s ball,” she finished with another sigh, laying her head down on the table.

I absentmindedly began stroking her hair – was it out of comfort for her, or was it for me, so that I could take in her being so close to me for as long as possible?

She turned her head so she was facing me. And she was smiling. I felt my heart flutter, but kept myself calm.

“Why don’t you want to be an extra?” I asked her, twirling a strand of her hair around my finger.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling – obviously, no one had ever treated her this gently before, except her parents, I had no doubt, and they were… well, dead.

“It means I’ll have to wear a dress,” she explained. “A long one, probably. Maybe a hoop skirt. Unless it’ll be traditional Japanese Cinderella, instead of a take off on America’s old story. I wouldn’t mind wearing a really nice kimono,” she smiled.

“I’m sure you’ll look beautiful in whatever you wear,” I told her.

She opened her eyes and lifted her head, my hand falling off. Her smile was still there, albeit much smaller. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

She was blushing. I had never seen her blush, I realized. I reached up a hand to touch her cheek. It was soft… just like I expected it to be.

Before I could stop myself, I leaned forward and kissed her.

There was really no other way to describe it – no fancy description of how our lips met; no description of what happened during it. It was just… a kiss.

“Yuki-kun,” she said, and I felt her hands on my chest, gentle, pushing me away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

She’s sorry? “You have nothing to be sorry for,” I told her, then realized that I was now blushing as well. “I shouldn’t have – it was just…” It was just, what? Your lips were there, and I really couldn’t resist not knowing what it felt like to kiss them for much longer? She’d think I was crazy. If she didn’t already. “I love you,” I whispered.

Her eyes widened, but I was still unsure what I saw in them. I couldn’t tell if it was grief, anxiety, surprise…. Maybe it was everything I was feeling, reflected back at me. It was certainly a mixture of emotions.

“Yuki-kun, I’m so sorry,” she said again. “I… I just don’t like you that way.” I looked at her, and she looked right back at me. Now, her eyes were apologetic.

“It’s all right,” I said, standing up, her hands falling back into her lap. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

And I left the room.

* * *

I found it hard to look at her after that. She pretty much continued on like nothing happened. I know she didn’t tell anyone, because it would have gotten back around to Motoko and the others very quickly. And I was certainly not going to tell anyone.

Despite the fact that I was… well, rejected (there really is no other way to put that), I still can’t stop thinking about her. I realize that she had fallen for Kyo – I caught her just a little too late. But… but back when all those emotions were in her eyes…. I know I saw, just for a moment, doubt. She doubted herself for telling me she didn’t love me.



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