Summary: In which Satowa does some thinking about Chika. Set somewhere around Chapter 69 and some references to the Volume extras found in chapter 105.5. Cross-posted to AO3 here
Darling, you are the sound of my life
Sharp in clarity, soft in melody
A whisper at the start
Now you’re my crescendo
and every music that follows
It started with his sound. Before that, he was an unforgivable delinquent. Someone who had no care music and did not deserve to lay his hands on the koto. She was wrong. She was wrong, and she would always regret her initial judgement. The words she said to him. Kudou Chika was someone who faced the koto much like he did with the people he cared about, earnestly and with a straightforwardness that sometimes belied his gentleness. Because Chika was someone who cared and it showed in his music. How he approached the koto and the consideration in his notes.
His first, true sound was one that stopped her in her tracks. It lasted only a moment, but she felt cocooned in warmth. How could a sound be so gentle? Who made that sound? She didn’t want to believe it was him. It didn’t fit with her perceptions, but soon, other moments came and stayed with her.
Chika asking about her family’s situation, helping her to make friends, his complete lack of artifice and willingness to catch up to her. He and the koto club had pulled her out of the dark and given her the hope she lost. She started paying attention to his laughs, the distance between their hands when walking. She both lived for and hated the moments they would take subway together and his head would rest on her shoulder because it would be perfect, only if he felt the same way.
It was honestly, a little too much at times, the way her heart would race. How loudly it pounded, how she was so flustered she would say the wrong things. Sometimes she just wanted to curl up in embarrassment. Why was she so awkward with words? She loved the koto, and would never regret the time spent on it, but sometimes she wished she were at least a little better with social interactions. It didn’t help that sometimes she just wanted to reach out and touch him. It was an itch under her skin that wouldn’t go away. He had become a significant presence in her life. One that grew more by the day. His latest act did nothing to deter his importance.
She brushed her hands lightly over the ranunculus flower Chika had given her, her fingers lingering on the petals. Her cheeks heated for the umpteenth time that evening and she wouldn’t even try to stop the smile on her face. “It suits you.” Doujima-sensei had said, and she couldn’t help but search for the flower on the internet. Ranunculus. Her heart pitter-pattered as she read the meaning of the flower.
The ranunculus symbolizes charm and attractiveness. The pink colour represents love, romance, and admiration.
Her heart sputtered then went into overdrive. She buried her face in her hands, certain that her cheeks were as pink as the ranunculus he had given her. She was getting ahead of herself. Way ahead. She was pretty sure Chika wasn’t aware of the meaning. ‘Still’, she thought as she brought the flower close to her, taking great care not to crush it. ‘It would be nice to have a reminder of this moment.’
****
“Are you sure you want to hang it in the lobby?” Her mother asked.
She shook her head. She wanted it to be the both the first and last thing upon leaving and entering the house. It would be as if he were here, in her house, welcoming her home, and wishing her the best on her way out. How could she want it anywhere else?
