steel heart

       When a voice sounded behind him, jolted in place, thoroughly shocked by the sound considering it was after hours in the school. Though, granted, he mused that perhaps extra-curricular activities had just gotten over. In any case, the bow skipped a cord in his alarm, bringing the song to an effective halt as he turned to face the one who’d spoken.

My brother used to play it for me. She’d said.

      Perhaps he wasn’t the only one with decent taste after all, then. Still… it was such an ironic string of words. So many in countless languages across the world, and it had to be that particular arrangement. Odd. 

       ❝Is that so—❞ The moment his eyes met those of the young girl before him, he froze entirely. Time stopped, his breathing surely stopped. He knew, ultimately, that his initial recognition of those crystal blue eyes had to be a mistake. They couldn’t possibly belong to the one person he connected them to. 

Anette— 

      He wanted to say, though the word did not come. It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her. And yet— though she was a good amount of years older, he could never not recognize the face of his baby sister. And quickly, his eyes scanned the length of her. 

My… how you’ve grown. 

It can’t be. Keep it together. It isn’t her.

   "What do you mean, Ha--" And then it struck her. How many years had passed? She'd lost count. But one particular thought rang clear in her ears, along with the pulsing beat of her heart and the blood rushingin her veins, her face going pale.

   What if the Haruka she knew... was gone?

   She took a hesitant step forward, swallowing the quickly forming lump in her throat as she fidgeted with her bag, pulling the straps off her shoulder and then pushing them back into place. God-- she was nervous. But why should she be? There was no reason to be. Nodding to herself, Anette straightened her posture, and continued to advance towards her brother.

   "Don't be ridiculous!" She began, trying to force a playful teasing tone into her voice; but it came out strained. On the inside, she was screaming-- her voice barely echoing over the raging waves of turmoil within her mind. It hurt. It hurt so much-- just those few words and Anette was near break down.

   And you are?

   And you are?

             The cadence of footsteps echoed throughout the barren halls as Haruka made his way to the music room which tended to occupy quite a bit of his time after school ended. He supposed he could play at home, like he still continues to do on a daily basis, and yet there is something peaceful here. The atmosphere of a school environment retracts his mind from conjuring any sensation of loneliness due to the stark silence. 

             Sitting at a chair, a music stand positioned in front of him, his eyes focus on the black surface, the lack of sheet music. Though currently, there is only a single song whose melody is on a looping rift in his mind. Perhaps it’s the time of year, but he’s played it more often in the last couple weeks than he has during any other season. Winter, holidays, death and rebirth. Those were the themes that ended a year, were they not? He took a deep breath, allowing his eyes to shut as he positioned the cool white oak against the underside of his chin, bow in position.

                            ❝What do you mean you can’t sleep, hm? You haven’t even tried.❞

                                                 ❝Please! I can’t, I can’t! Play it for me?❞

                                                                 ❝Play what~?❞

                                                         ❝My song, Bror-chan!❞

                                                 ❝Alright, alright. Close your eyes.❞ 

   "Of course, silly!" She laughed, causing the other girl to laugh as well. They bid each other goodbye, and soon Anette was the only one in the locker room, left to her own thoughts. Normally her hair wasn't this bad after a swim-- considering she wore a water sealed cap over it-- but to lighten the tense mood her teammate had pushed her into the water when she'd been drying off, which had indeed lightened the mood. Anette had taken it in stride, and was happy to provide even the littlest of entertainment.

   Anette gave a quiet chuckle and began slipping into her clothes, not bothering to take off her swimsuit. Just some jean shorts and a plain light purple t-shirt, her school clothes tucked away in her bag which she slung over her shoulder and began making her way out of the school. Down the hall, past the art room, everything in place and ordinary as it always was--

   Except it wasn't.

   Soft music lifted into the air and swept past Anette's ears, a neutral tune that wouldn't really mean anything to any other person, but to Anette-- it brought back so many memories so quickly-- she nearly lost her balance. Memories she thought she'd forgotten. Memories she'd made herself forget.

   It couldn't be.

   With this thought in mind-- Anette opened the door where the source of the music was emitting from. The music room. No surprise there. Once inside, she quietly closed the door behind her, pressing her back against it as her eyes scanned the room. A part of her wished the music was coming from a radio or some form of music player-- but as she walked further into the room, her wishes were proved wrong. A boy. Blond. Playing the violin. His back facing her.

   "That...That sounds familiar. My brother used to play it for me." Anette's voice was soft, as if to not startle the stranger as much, but also because she couldnt find the strength to speak up.

         He backpedaled immediately, body literally recoiling from the proximity it had been in only moments ago. No way was he about to pick up on some poor, young, unsuspecting girl who’d barely seen the ways of the world. Ok, so… Maybe he would have considered it if she were eighteen— but— well, that wasn’t the point at all. He was an upstanding guy. Kazuo flicked open his fan, moving it in front of his mouth as he cleared his throat from his previous outburst. 

Stay cool. She totally didn’t suspect anything. Rein back the moves.

   Anette couldn't stop the small quirk of her lips, eye brows lifting slightly as she watched the male practically shoot back a few feet. He must be like-- thirty, then. Probably not that old, but-- that wasn't the point. Anette ran a hand through her hair, flicking a stray strand from her face and allowing it to fall back into place. Hands in her lap once more, she gave the man a dazzling smile, laughing as she did so.

   { ● ❤ ● } — Eggs, bread, milk. Anette kept repeating these words mentally like a mantra, head lowered as she skipped over all the cracks in the sidewalk, eyes focused on the ground to assist herself with the task. She wasn't superstitious or anything of that subject, but just simply bored. Her mother had sent her out to get these mundane ingredients, just like she always did. Every week on a Sunday, at the same time, same, same-- same.

   Anette felt her lips purse, letting her head drop until it bumped against her chest. Bubble-gum pink locks fell over her face, creating a curtain that shielded her eyes.