He started visiting her more after that. She was always so passive, so careful, dusting eraser bits off her notebook. As the days went by, he began to notice more about her—the way her lip would curl slightly in concentration, the way the light would reflect over her eyes, the color of rusted blood. The way she'd tense up at the mention of Junpei, drop her pencil, and stare out the window. Trying to forget the world. But of all these things, he had yet to make her smile since that day. Maybe he had imagined up the entire scenario inside his head?

"What are you drawing?" Minato tried to peek over her shoulder, at her newest creation, but she hugged the notebook close to herself, eyes narrowed. He mirrored the look.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" She murmured. Her voice had an edge to it; he pressed on, either completely unaware, or just stupidly brave—he taught himself to be that way after countless hours spent fighting Shadows in Tartarus.

He flashes her a tiny smile, and if anything, it causes more of her blood to boil. He was always like that... Had he no regard for anyone else's feelings? Surely he knew what he was doing to her... He can see her nails sink into the sheets under them, her chest rise, and fall as she takes in careful breaths. More than anything, she wanted the soothing buzz of Medea's voice in her ears. "Can't I just take a peek?"

There's a long pause. He's about to speak again—maybe she didn't hear him?—when Chidori shakes her head simply, red strands moving with her. A sigh leaks from her pale lips as she goes back to her picture, making sure to keep her distance from him, knees hugged to her chest. "You sound just like Junpei..." She says after another pause. He furrows his brow.

"Is that a bad thing?" He says it almost automatically, as if he had expected it. Those words had more meaning to her than to him. Was it? True, both of them were absolutely infuriating, but a part of her enjoyed the company. They livened up the place, made her feel almost human again.

"Hmm..." She absently fingers the laced collar around her neck, as if mulling over the question. But it becomes apparent after a whole minute that she's not going to answer. She had a way of dancing around them. His eyes drifted over to the flowerpot on the windowsill, his mind racking for another subject to keep the conversation alive. Why was it so hard to find his voice around her? She was just another girl, and he was just another boy—what they were outside of this hospital room didn't matter to him.

"You sure like flowers, huh?" It sounds even lamer outside his head. Chidori doesn't say anything—doesn't even look at him—just keeps sketching, oblivious, and he takes that as his hint to leave. It was getting dark, anyway. The bed creaks lightly as he unfolds his legs, and climbs off; he stretches his tired muscles, and she watches him, studies him from underneath her bangs.

His hand barely brushes the doorknob, when she whispers,"Yes, I... I love flowers..."

His smile returns with full force; she feels butterflies rumble in the pit of her stomach, but she has no idea why. "Next time, I'll bring you a bouquet~"

"A bouquet..." She repeats, face adopting a thoughtful expression. Her features were softer than they normally were, brown eyes casted down, and with those firey locks framing them, she looked beautiful.

Maybe one day he'd tell her.

"Well, see you!" Minato waved over his shoulder.

A voice inside his head echoes that he's reached rank 2, and the smile remains all the way to the dorm. He ignores the other member's confused glances, and shrugs—what's he so happy about?—as he reaches the top of the stairs, into his room.

It's only when she hears the door shut behind him does she hold the picture up to her face, inspecting it, head tilted slightly to the side. Blue hair, and grey eyes stared back at her, a smile played across his lips; she scowls, and tears it out of the book, crumbling it up in her small hands before tossing it in the nearby bin.

She could never get that smile right.