Midori realized at the age of three that her father didn’t like her very much. For some reason, when she had this small epiphany, it didn’t bother or surprise her as much as she thought it would. Other little girls, she was sure, would cry and throw a fit and wonder why the world was so unfair.
But it didn’t seem that odd.
She watched as he passed her by in the hallway, completely ignoring her. She watched as he yelled at her nanny (her caretaker at the time) to keep Midori in line and out of his office. She watched as he glared at her with obvious disdain from across the dinner table.
Her stepmother wasn’t much better. That lady was scarier than any monster in the closet or under the bed. But she was pretty - like a flower. Midori didn’t know pretty things could be so frightening. She was sharp with her words - calling Midori this and that how she pleased, hitting her whenever the girl disobeyed, and locking her inside of her room when guests came over.
By time her fourth birthday rolled around, Midori had grown used to the idea. The idea that the world would never be fair.
Around the time of her fifth birthday, she saw her mother. It was perhaps a week after she turned five before her mom showed her face. Midori wasn’t really sure how she got into the house - it was two stories, after all. But somehow her mom crawled through her bedroom window, tangled in the curtains. Midori didn’t wake until thin arms wrapped around her, lifting her from the bed with ease.
Almost immediately, Midori wrapped around the person - no matter who they may be, they were warm. “Midori, sweetheart?” Midori’s eyes opened after awhile, fists rubbing at the edges of her eyes to wipe away the sleep. When she focused, she saw blue eyes like hers. Her mother seemed to glow - like an angel or something. Her blonde hair was longer than the last time she’d seen her, but that was around a year ago, and it’d only been a glimpse. Midori didn’t really remember it well. “Hey, baby.”
Her mother’s voice was soft, smooth, comforting. It made Midori feel safe. So with a sleepy smile, her face lit up, “Mommy.”
Her mother seemed to like that, because she smiled too. A bright, beaming smile. “Hey, kid.” She began to walk across the room once she spotted the closet, “Me and you are gonna go on little trip, okay?”
Midori was far too tired to really give any protest as her mother slipped a jacket onto her. It was cold outside, and she wanted to tell her mom that, but she preferred to stay quiet. As she was balanced on her mother’s hip, she clung to her neck and midsection, refusing to let go. She must’ve fallen asleep on the way downstairs - it was so quiet and dark in the house. When Midori forced her eyes back open, they were inside of the garage. She was placed inside of her dad’s truck ( without her booster seat, which she was a little worried about ) and before she could ask if her mother got permission to take her dad’s beloved car, the door slammed in her face.
So again, Midori stayed quiet.
Her mom got into the car with no problems at all, getting comfortable and strapping on her seat belt. Once that was done, she adjusted the mirrors and stuck the key in the ignition. Midori was just about to open her mouth and finally speak, but her mother took that opportunity to push the car into reverse, slam her foot on the pedal, and slam right through the garage door.
Midori jumped, resisting the urge to release a frightened shriek at all the noise. It was rather sudden, but then again, her mother was known for stuff like that. Her mother didn’t stop there, giving no pause and continuing to peel down their long driveway. The car whipped around with her movements, and with that, they were speeding down the road and heading straight for the highway.
The phone was ringing.
“Hello?”
“Daddy?”
“Midori? Holy sh--Midori, where are you?”
“...I don’t know. But it’s hot.”
“Do you know what street you’re on? Are you on the sidewalk? The car?”
“Uhh...I’m using the phone. The sidewalk is here.”
Her father released a long sigh through the receiver, “Where’s your mother?”
“She went to go get ice cream.”
“What is the ice cream store called?”
“It’s--oh! I have to go, dad. She’s coming back.”
“Wait, Midori--”
Dial tone.
Midori wasn’t found for another two weeks. And in those two weeks, she’d tried a brownie ( it tasted funny and made her feel sick just a few minutes later, her mom had laughed it off ), she followed a large bus, a tour bus as her mother had called it (it was her favorite indie band, apparently), and she ate lots of burgers from fast food places. It was nice, really nice to see her mom again and have fun. But she was also getting homesick. Also, she was a little tired of waiting in the hot car for her mom to come back sometimes.
When the nice police officers found her, they gave her something to eat and asked her a lot of questions about her mom. She didn’t know most of the answers. They told her that her father wouldn’t be able to come pick her up until next week. So, for that week, she was placed in foster care.
That was okay. Midori was used to waiting.
“You’re never going to see that woman again,” Her father said as he pulled her to his car - he’d bought another one, it seemed. Identical to the black one her mom had taken. “Do you hear me, Midori?”
She wanted to tell him that he was hurting her arm, it felt like he was trying to pull it off her body, but instead, she silently nodded. She didn’t want to make her dad anymore angrier than he already looked.
At her seventh birthday, not much happened. Her stepmother had apparently forgotten it was even her birthday, and when Midori brought it up a couple days later, she’d snapped at her, “Why didn’t you say anything before? Are you stupid?” That had gotten her sent to her room - for what, she wasn’t completely sure.
Midori didn’t really mind if her birthday was celebrated or not, she had other things on her mind. Over the last few weeks, she had developed her first crush. It was odd - she’d never really liked anyone before. Sometimes, she would find herself falling for Disney princes or pretty boys on the TV, but never a real-live person.
He was pretty though. He had hair like salt and pepper. He was always wearing a nice tie and dark suits. He came over twice a month, on Wednesdays to discuss things with her dad. Midori would sometimes linger near her dad’s study just to hear his voice. He was forty-two and his name was Brian. Mr. Brian, he liked to be called. He gave her white smiles and little pats on the head.
He had a wife ( which Midori didn’t like ), but his wife probably didn’t know that he tucked her in on those Wednesdays he came. Not even her dad really knew. When Midori had brought it up to him once “my daddy doesn’t really tuck me in at night”, he had smiled that kind smile of his and said he would do it himself.
From someone else’s perspective - someone older, perhaps - that would probably seem inappropriate, but Midori’s didn’t think anything of it. In fact, she was elated to know that he would come and tuck her in. When he first started it, most of the time he would come in and help her into bed. After that, he would read a book from her shelf and smile at her when she knew the words. Then by the fourth or fifth time, he began to push back or stroke her hair - Midori liked that too. Her dad never did that, and Mr. Brian had such nice hands, really.
By the eighth time, he started touching her cheeks. Sometimes, he would brush her hair behind her ear or he would press his fingers against her cheek. And every time, he got a little closer and closer. Midori didn’t know why he fancied touching her so much, but most of the times he would comment that her hair and skin was soft. That was good to know.
By the tenth time, it was nearing her birthday again. In her excitement, she brought it up to him when he finished her bedtime story. In reply, he smiled that pretty smile at her and said, “That’s nice. How old are you turning, Midori?”
“Eight, Mr. Brian!” She even held up both hands to show him.
He laughed, a deep sound in his chest, a certain shine in his eyes. “You’re becoming a big girl.” She nodded fast, like a bobble head. His smile widened. When he leaned forward this time, his voice had lowered, “Do you want an early birthday present?”
Midori nodded again, even faster than before. Her head would fall off her shoulders if she kept that up, she thought. At first, he didn’t do anything. And then, completely out of the blue, she felt his hand under her pink blankets. Midori blinked at him, confusion clear on her face now as his hand touched her knee, underneath her nightgown.
She wasn’t really sure where he was going with this. Maybe it was a surprise...?
He circled his thumb on the inside of her knee, watching her face for her reaction. His hands were rough and it felt strange. When she didn’t stop him, his hand moved up. There was quiet between them, Midori’s eyebrows furrowing bit by bit. It wasn’t until there was a noise outside her door - probably the maid cleaning up - that he moved away. He stood up, a friendly smile on his face still.
“I’ll give you your surprise on your birthday, okay?”
Silently, Midori nodded.
“This is our little secret.”
Again, she nodded.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
Her door closed behind him. Midori didn’t realize how tense she was until he left.
Unfortunately, by her eighth birthday, her dad had already decided to move them further out towards the city. Midori didn’t see much of Mr. Brian after that. So, she began to focus more into her schoolwork - even though, mostly it was coloring, outside time, and telling time. The girls at the school didn’t really like her that much, she didn’t get to sit with any of them during lunch time, and she was always at the back of the line when they moved in the hallways, so she didn’t get to whisper and giggle along with them - they were always towards the front.
She couldn’t help but wonder why people didn’t seem to like her much. Was it because her cheeks were too pudgy - like her stepmom said? Was it because she ate too much? Was it because she didn’t like the going across the monkey bars because it made her tired? Maybe she just wasn’t that pretty. Or maybe they didn’t like her shoes - they didn’t light up on the bottom like everyone else’s.
She was convinced the other girls would never be her friends. So imagine how surprised she was when Mia Conners came up to Midori’s desk and offered her an invitation to her big sleepover she was having that weekend. Midori was beyond excited - she babbled on and on about it when her driver came to pick her up.
She wanted to tell her daddy about it, but he was inside his study, so she knew not to bother him. She told the maid, she told the gardener in the back during his smoke break, she told her stepmom, who seemed surprised that any of the girls would invite her to anything.
By the weekend, Midori was buzzing with excitement in her seat. To make a good impression, her stepmom actually drove her to the girl’s house. Their mailbox was decorated with pink balloons and Mia’s mother was standing out in the front to greet them.
Two hours into the party, and Midori was sitting on her sleeping bag, watching the girls speak to one another. They were seated in a close-knit circle in the middle of the room, a circle Midori wasn’t apart of yet.
“Midori,” one of the girls called, she had straight black hair that was clipped back with butterfly barrettes. Her name was Cynthia. “Come over here.” She patted the spot next to her. Midori quickly shot up, making her way over in a hurry and plopping down in the spot. All the girls stared at her.
“You know, Midori, you have such pretty hair,” Said one of the brunette girls - her hair reached her shoulders. Her name was Rita. “I wish I had blonde hair.”
“Me too!” exclaimed a certain nine-year-old. A few murmurs of agreement went around the circle.
Midori blinked, surprise on her face before she perked up, “Really?” She pulled forth a blonde lock of hair onto her shoulder, “That’s funny. I’ve always wished I had dark hair like you guys. So we’d have something in common.”
The girls seemed interested with that. From what Midori noticed, their hairstyles were all the same. Dark, short, neat and proper. While Midori’s was messily curled, falling down her back and getting everywhere. She couldn’t see why the girls would even compliment her on it.
“Girls!” Mia’s mom called from the kitchen, “Who wants cake?”
“Hold on.”
“Do you have them?”
“Look, she’s already asleep.”
“Where’d you get those?”
“Gross, she’s drooling.”
“Shhh, Beth!”
“Let me go first.”
Midori could hear the voices. She wasn’t completely sure where they were coming from, but they were close. Eyebrows furrowing, she rolled over, and for a second, they all went quiet. Good. Midori just wanted some sleep - everyday she tended to go to sleep around ten. She didn’t really like staying up any later. So she’d been the first one to climb into her sleeping bag and fall asleep.
She wondered how the girls could still be so wide awake.
“Oh! She moved!”
“Don’t worry, she’s still asleep.”
“Roll her back over.”
“No way, she’s heavy. Just start from here.”
Midori could swear they were standing over her. Or at least next to her. It was quiet again, besides the small giggles and whispers of where to cut.
Wait.
Cut...?
Was she still half asleep?
She made a small noise, eyes opening bit by bit.
“She’s awake!”
“Hold her still!”
Midori blinked, the weariness falling away rather quickly when she felt more than one pair of hands grab onto her shoulders and wrists. By then, she knew it wasn’t a dream. “Wha--”
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a pair of scissors.
The phone was ringing.
“Hello?”
“H-Hello? Is this Mrs. Abate?”
“Yes...”
“There’s been an accident.”
She couldn’t stop crying. She couldn’t stop shaking. She couldn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.
Sympathetically, her driver glanced at the small girl through the rearview mirror. Her face was wet from tears. Her cheeks, neck, and ears were stained pink. Her hair - that had been reaching her mid-back when she first left the house the night before - was now cut down to her scalp on one side. Choppy, some strands reaching the tops of her ear and others stringing down to her shoulder. Some of it looked as if it’d been yanked from her scalp completely.
Releasing a long sigh, he redirected his attention to the road in front of him. Midori cried the entire way home,
“I’m sorry.”
Blankly, Midori stared up at her ballet instructor. She was already dressed for practice. Even though it’d been a few weeks since the “incident”, Midori’s hair was now growing to her ears. She was unable to tie it back into a bun like before, though. Through the glass wall, she could see the girls stretching and preparing for practice.
Mia Conners glanced over just in time to catch Midori’s gaze before quickly looking away. Midori blinked, looking back towards her instructor, “I...I don’t understand.”
Ms. Webley gave her a look, crouching down so that she could look at her more closely, “I spoke to your mother about it. It’s best if...you don’t come to practice anymore. A few of the girls have complained and said that you’ve been bothering them.”
“B-But...!” Midori shook her head, “I haven’t!” In fact, she made sure to keep out of Mia’s way and the rest of the girls who seemed to follow after her, “I promise!”
“Midori, the way you’re acting...if it’s because of what happened--”
“I haven’t done anything!” Midori cut her off, voice echoing through the hallway. This gathered the attention of the girls inside of the studio and the parents watching. “I haven’t done anything!!” Midori repeated, voice breaking this time. From what Ms. Webley could tell, her eyes seemed glassy as well.
Shaking her head, she murmured, “Midori, over five girls have come to me with the same story. I’m sorry. We’re going to have to let you go. I spoke to your mother about it, she thinks it’s best too. She wants you to focus more on yourself,” With that said, she glanced meaningfully towards Midori’s hair, her slightly protruding stomach and thighs from too many snacks during the day, and then looked away. “I called your mother already, she should be here in a little while. Wait in the lobby for her, okay?”
By time Midori’s driver pulled up ( not her mother), Midori had already cried herself to sleep in one of the lobby chairs.
Now fourteen-year-old Midori stared at herself in the mirror. Turning this way and that, she looked down at the dress. She’d decided to treat herself today, putting on her favorite colors and curling her hair. “Maybe he’ll notice this...” Her fifteenth birthday was approaching rather quickly, and she wanted to ask if Keiji wanted to spend time with her next week for it.
Hopefully, if she dressed pretty, put on her makeup and do her hair, he would be more lenient. Most of the time, he was complaining about his parents, work, or Midori. Straight to her face, as well. There wasn’t much time to talk about herself, and Keiji had always been bad with dates. With a satisfied smile, Midori left her home and waited for her driver to round up the driveway so that she could go.
Keiji was waiting at the bus station that they’d agreed to meet at. Midori lit up once she saw him, eyes brightening and a smile on her face. The driver barely had time to stop the car before she got out. “Keiji!”
He turned, surprised that she was earlier than she said she would be. Midori was always pretty excited to see him - no matter if he was in a bad mood or not. And usually he was. They’d met about six months ago, Midori thought his motorcycle was cool and he said he would give her a ride whenever she wanted. Well, really, he said it to her chest, but nonetheless, Midori was excited.
Even though he was turning eighteen next month and both of Midori’s parents hated him, she couldn’t bring herself to care. He was really the first boy who’d ever given her the time of day, and it seemed as if he was attracted to her. He liked to touch her chest, her thighs, kiss her. She never knew people together could be so intimate all the time, but you learn something new every day.
“Hey,” Already, he began to walk.
Midori followed him quickly, “Where’re we going today?”
“My apartment.”
Midori faltered, face falling a fraction, “I-I thought we could go to the movies.”
He didn’t even look at her, “Nah. Nothing’s good out. And I’m broke.”
“But, Keiji...”
“C’mon.”
The movie he put on was boring. It was an action movie, and it had a lot of cursing, blood, and shooting. Midori stared at the TV, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. She wasn’t sure when would be a good time to bring up her birthday, the movie never had a quiet moment. It took another hour for her to relax, Keiji barely glanced at her during the whole thing.
With a sigh, she sat back against the wall. “I’m tired.”
“Mm.”
Her eyebrows pinched together, hands tightening in her skirt. He wasn’t even interested. He probably didn’t care whether she fell asleep or not. Deciding to be stubborn, Midori forced her eyes closed. When she did, she realized she was rather tired. She hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep last night - she’d been up thinking of ways to bring up her birthday, and look how it turned out.
Just as she was beginning to slump against the wall, she felt lips press against hers. Her eyes opened, lips instinctively parting underneath Keiji’s. Irritable, she turned her face away from his, “I don’t feel like it, Keiji.” He didn’t even try to set up a mood. He didn’t even warn her first. He just kissed her, and now his hand was slipping underneath her dress. At first, she began pushing at his chest, “I’m not in the mood--” He kissed her again, refusing to give up. Obviously, it was either his way or the highway. Midori knew that by now.
So she stopped after awhile. Allowing him to kiss her and force him tongue down her throat. His breath didn’t smell very good and it didn’t smell like he showered today either. Probably just threw on some clothes from his floor. While Midori spent hours and hours trying to do her hair, makeup, and pick out an outfit.
She would ruin the atmosphere if she kept fighting him. If she said no. In the end, she would probably just have to wait it out. He squeezed her breasts too roughly, he pushed at her wrists too hard to hold her down, it made her stomach flip and turn.
Did relationships go like this? she asked herself as she sat up. The sheet slipped off her front, pooling at her waist. Keiji lied next to her, snoring and satisfied with himself. He was naked, she was naked. This was how it was supposed to be, right? This was just how things were.
Really, it didn’t matter if she was in the mood for sex or not. Nothing seemed to matter to him. Slowly, she pulled herself up from the bed, grabbing her dress from the floor and pulling it up. Next, she pulled on her jacket. It was all a wrinkled mess, when she left, most people would know exactly what she’d been doing. As she slipped on her shoes, she glanced back at him, “I’m leaving.”
Keiji, the light sleeper he was, waved at her limply. And then went back to sleep.
Midori stared at his back for a few more seconds before leaving. It was dark outside, she realized. Had she really been there that long? Had she allowed it to go on that long? How many times did he even flip her over to do it again? Had she even said no anymore? She was so lost in her thoughts during it, trying to pretend that it wasn’t happening, that she didn’t realize how much time had passed.
She walked a few blocks in silence when she felt a drop hit her shirt.
Rain?
No.
She was crying. Pausing, Midori reached up a hand and touched her face. It was wet with tears, each dripping off her chin and hitting either the sidewalk or her shirt. She hadn’t even noticed. Blinking, she began to wipe at her face, only for more to come.
It was weird. They wouldn’t stop.
A sob broke free from her throat, the tears becoming thicker and faster. A weird sound was coming from her, torn between a whimper and a hiccup. Unable to stand anymore, she crouched down on the sidewalk, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes stubbornly.
Why was she crying now? This had happened before. Three times in a row in fact. It’s just sex. It’s just something people do when they care about each other. It’s normal. It’s normal to do it this way so why was she crying about it?
Stop crying. Stop crying.
She didn’t look good in orange. She never did.
“Abate.”
Blinking, Midori looked up. The bright lights momentarily blinded her. The officer in front of her looked unamused. “Someone’s here to see you.”
She was surprised at that. Who was it? Mitty hadn’t come to see her yet. Not his brother either. And her parents wouldn’t be caught dead somewhere near here. Really, her dad would prefer to stay out of it. Just what he needed for his business: Richard Abate daughter caught with drugs!
What a scandal.
Slowly, she rose from her seat, following the guard out. The handcuffs around her wrists were beginning to chafe. The hallway was long, bright, and smelled like bleach. As they rounded the corner, the guard held the door open for her. When she stepped inside, another guard used a key to unlock her handcuffs.
Thank goodness.
When she was lead to her seat, she stared.
A pair of familiar blue eyes stared back. A smile was on her face as she pointed a finger at the phone. Slowly, Midori sank into her seat, hesitating and then plucking the phone from the hook so that she would be able to speak.
“Hey, sweetie.”
“...Hey, mom.” Her voice sounded weird, croaky. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was.
The dirty glass between them did nothing to deter how pretty her mother was. Smooth, unblemished skin sun-kissed and tanned to perfection. Blonde hair piled high on her head, sunglasses pushing back her bangs. She looked healthy, she looked happy.
Midori’s face softened, “You look good.”
Her mom smiled again, “Really? I’ve been down at the beach for the last few days.”
“Mmm...yeah.”
“Anyway, how’re you?”
How was she? Midori mused over that for a few seconds. She opened her mouth and then closed it. “I...I don’t know.”
“That’s okay.” Midori stayed quiet. She wanted to say it wasn’t okay, but her mom looked content, “You look great in orange, by the way.”
“Liar.”
A laugh, “Yeah, you look like shit.”
“I feel like shit.”
Again, her mother laughed.
There was silence between them. Midori began to pull at a strand of her hair, “...My court date isn’t until next month.”
“Next month?”
“The holidays.”
“Ah.”
“Hopefully, they’ll drop the charges.”
“Well, they weren’t your drugs, right?”
“I haven’t done any drugs for a few months now. Not ever since I got the acceptance letter.”
“So they were Mitty’s?”
Midori flinched at that, looking down quickly. “...I don’t know.”
“It’s okay not to know.”
Frustrated, Midori pushed back her bangs from her face. This time, she didn’t stop her reply, “No, it’s not, mom! It’s not okay! Nothing’s okay...nothing’s ever okay. Not with me.” Every time, she would climb up and everything would fall down around her. How would anything ever be okay? She wasn’t even close to being okay. Though, when she looked up, eyes stinging, her mother was staring back at her, a gentle smile on her face.
“It might not be okay now, Midori. But it’ll get there. I promise.”
Midori stayed quiet, looking back down once more.
“Midori.”
She looked up.
“I did such a good job making you.”
A pause. Midori stared. The lump in her throat got harder to swallow. “...”
“Don’t let anyone make you think that you’re wrong. Or you’re not okay. Or that you’re a mess up. You’re not. I did such a good job making you. I’m so glad I made you.”
“...”
“It might not be okay now, sweetie. But it’ll get there.”
“...”
“Oh, sweetie, don’t cry.”
She couldn’t help it.
Five minutes later, her mom was gone and Midori was wiping tears from her face. She stood up and allowed the guard to place the handcuffs back onto her wrists.
And then, he crawls back to you, like he always does, calling you at 3 AM and for the first time in months, you can actually witness the beauty of the stars when you’re listening to how he’s breathing.
And you talk all night and you think to yourself thank God I’ll go to sleep listening to his voice instead of trying to remember exactly what it sounded like But then you wake up and the taste of heartbreak is still fresh in your mouth, your phone battery is dead and deep inside, so are you.
Kirito had been distracted for a few seconds, for he’d been watching her eat. For one he was content that she seemed to be enjoying the food he’d gotten for her, and as for the other reason, well, she looked pretty damn cute when she smiled up at him like that.
“It’s not a problem, really. I did this without expecting anything in return.” His answer was completely honest; in fact, that hadn’t been a thought that’d occurred to him when he first conceived the idea of giving this to her. “And you don’t have to get me anything either. As long as you like the food, that’s enough for me.”
It didn’t take long for her smile to fall though as she spoke up again, closing the box to glance at him. Sometimes, she forgot how tall he really was and she had to tip her chin up slightly to see him. “That’s not fair.” She was borderline whining--it was how she got her way most of the time. “I can’t just mooch off of you.”
Midori mused over it for a few more seconds, lips pressed together before looking at him once more, “I’ll pay you back somehow.” She wasn’t even really sure what any of this was for. Maybe she was missing something.
He held up a hand in front of him and waved off her notion as he responded, "Nah, I don't really need anything. No favors or nothing. I guess I just thought about getting you some, is all. I remembered you liked them and there's a restaurant that's got 'em not too far from where I live." Kirito merely shrugged at his explanation as if it were not a big deal. "I've heard the yakitori there tastes pretty good, though."
She was already sticking some food in her mouth by time he started talking. Glancing up at him again, she watched the musician for a moment or two. It seemed genuine enough, there didn’t seem to be any kind of hidden motive behind it.
Which was a good thing. But it was also really surprising.
Slowly, she finished chewing, deciding it would be polite to answer him besides just eating the food without saying anything. “This is really good. Thanks!” She even aimed a friendly smile towards him before it slowly fell, “Ah. But I didn’t get you anything.”
"See? How tough was that? You even got it right." His smile widened as he presented her with her gift. It was an ordinary carry out food box in a plastic bag that he held out in front of her. "I got you some yakitori."
Midori blinked, surprised. About to open her mouth to say “I knew it”, but he beat her to it. She stared at the box for a few seconds, a bit perplexed and dreading. Maybe it would end up being a trick.
But, in the end, she took it. Continuing to give him a puzzled look, she opened the box. Almost immediately, her expression lit up, “Hey! These’re my favorite.” They even still looked warm, and she looked back up at him, “What’re these for exactly? Do you need a favor or something?”
At the shift in her expression, he continued, "Oh, come on. You make it sound like it's such a pain. If you guess at least once, you won't have to guess any more. I'll just show you."
“--Oh!”
Maybe this would be right. It took her a few seconds to think of anything, “Is it something to eat?”
"I guess it is a surprise. I was just gonna show you what it is, /but/ maybe it'll be interesting to see what you think it might be." He said with a pleasant smile crossing his lips. "I'll give you a hint. It's something I'm one hundred percent sure you'd like."
Midori’s face slowly began to fall. Was this another one of his games or something? Not that she was going to say anything for now, her expression said enough. “So I have to guess?”
"Hey. I've got you a little somethin'." He was holding it behind his back now, and casually made a point to not say what it was for exactly. He thought it'd be obvious enough considering the day.
When he stopped in front of her, she’d been rather surprised. Blinking up at Kirito, she considered it for a second or two before speaking, “Is it supposed to be a surprise or something? Or is this a guessing game?”
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