Cupids Arrow

Cupids Arrow: Chapter 1

-Wednesday-

Tap, tap, tap.

The heels of Shoko's shoes clicked a steady rhythm against the sidewalk, and she breathed in the fresh air with appreciation. She did not walk often - was often afraid to, even - but today was beautiful and quiet and she felt peaceful for the first time in a while.

So she walked, and listened to the birds and the whisper of grass and the creak of quietly swaying trees. She watched the clouds drift loftily overhead, taking in the vast blue sky with pleasure. She allowed the day's lovely simplicity to draw her into it's calm spell, putting to sleep her always-racing nerves for a change. She loved days like these. The fact that they were few and far between perhaps made them all the more precious. She never failed to enjoy them, and was always sad to see them go.

Abruptly, the spell released her, and she realized someone was calling her

"Shoko-chan! Hello!" Shoko felt her face heat as Kahoko slowed from her half-run, breathing a little harder than she would have if Shoko hadn't been stupidly lost in a dream world.

"Ah, Kaho-senpai, I'm sorry . . . um, I wasn't paying attention, I didn't mean to make you run," Shoko bowed in apology, and wondered at her ability to cause trouble even as she tried to fade into the background. That was irony for you.

"No, no, it's okay - I do that all the time, too," Kahoko waved her hand dismissively and smiled, tucking a piece of red hair behind her ear. "It's been a while since we talked . . . I miss everyone from the concourse a lot sometimes. How have you been?"

Miserable. She had the strangest urge to tell the older girl all about her bizarre, painful emotions as of late, to ask her advice on what to do about it. Shoko certainly didn't know; Shoko didn't know anything but fading into the background and living through her clarinet.

She didn't dare, however. She could never burden Kaho-senpai with her silly problems. The confident, compassionate redhead would probably gladly listen, but Shoko didn't feel comfortable enough to confide all of the craziness going on within. Not to mention how Kahoko might react to it . . . What if . . .

"I'm really well. Thank you, Kaho-senpai . . . I'm glad to talk to you again," she said instead, which was the truth. Just being near Kahoko made her - and probably everyone else - feel more at peace and content. Nonetheless, the usual red tint crept into her cheeks, and she couldn't find the will to look anywhere but her feet as she said it. In her head it had sounded acceptable, but out loud, she was sure it made her sound like she'd been starving for human companionship.

Shoko almost sighed aloud. She'd never had a way with words. For that matter, except for her clarinet, she'd never had a way with anything. But Kaho-senpai just smiled in that genuinely happy way that made one feel not quite so worthless, and the tide of embarrassment slowly receded.

"Me too. It's been a little lonely since it ended . . . Ah, I do have my Gen Ed friends, and I love them, but I felt like everyone in the concourse was really starting to connect. Or maybe it was just me being sentimental," she laughed, but the glow in her eyes held. "Music is amazing like that . . . it can bring people who are so different onto the same wavelength . . . except, maybe, for Tsuchiura-kun and Tsukimori-kun," she finished, her brow wrinkling a little as she recalled their inability to get along well.

Shoko, however, shivered, and not from the breeze. 'How was that fair?' she wondered. The sound of his name, from anyone's lips, for any reason, seemed to send chills tickling across her skin. Irrational. It was almost as bad as the warmth that followed along with his image.

"Are you alright, Shoko-chan? You looked cold for a second . . . and you're flushed, even though it's so pleasant. You're not catching a cold, are you?" Kahoko glanced at her, concern shadowing her eyes as she observed Shoko's flushed cheeks and the hazy, distracted look in her eyes.