I tried to do shoujo manga stuff for the Quartet. I dunno. I think I just went overboard with cliché stuff.

I went through so many shoujo manga playlists for this. So many. It's all worth it, though; I'm actually kind of proud of this one. ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ Butwhyisitsolongcries –

Kagerou Project belongs to Jin.

"Agh, it's absolutely ridiculous!" Her sudden outburst catches the attention of several riders, eyes trained to her for a few seconds before looking away. The attention was unnecessary; she was nervous already. Although she tried her best to make her pigtails look extra neat, she ultimately messed them up after she ruffled her hair in frustration looking at her ludicrous confession.

The crumpled piece of paper (worn to the fiber over the many times she'd erased and written on it) sat on her pleated skirt, mocking her silently for being such a coward. Were they alive, they would scorn her for having to write out her own thoughts about him.

"He's been your friend for years," they'd whine, flicking her forehead if they had hands. "Do you really need a piece of paper to tell him how you feel? That's not genuine at all!"

And that's when she'd have the urge to kick that piece of paper to its knees, if it had a human body. Eyes snapping open from her rather horrid mental image, her hands find the confession once more, glancing over it with a skeptical feeling.

'I've been friends with you for a long time now, and throughout all that, I've gotten to know you really well, I think.' Ugh, cliché.

'You're an idiot, but you really know how to brighten a girl's day.' Did she seriously write that?

'That's why I have to tell you that I – '

"Good morning, Takane!"

The all-too familiar voice that had entered the train car shocks her from her trance, the words of (love?) her emotions crumpled into a ball. If she was an anime character, her pigtails would have flared despite the lack of spring wind, and her blush would be redder than what she had at the moment. And were she animated, her mouth would be gaping wide out of a lack of words to say.

"Huh? Are you okay, Takane?" He takes his usual seat next to her, looking at her with those (magnificent) wide eyes of his. They blink at her, expecting an answer to fall out, but the longer she stared at his face, the harder she found it to breathe.

"N – nothing, you idiot!" She stammers quickly, hitting him lightly with her free hand. "Why are you so close, anyway? Don't you have a sense of personal space?!"

"Oh…!"

His leg, which had pressed up against her before, now moved away of couple of inches. Although the distance was still small (too long, her lovesick heart speaks), she finds solace in the space, letting out her concealed breathe. The paper's shoved into her book bag, and she crosses her arms while giving a stern look at the boy.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asks, concern now filling those eyes of his. In that moment, Takane felt her heart race faster than the speed of light, a phrase that'd been used over and over much to her disliking.

The train takes a sudden bump among the rails, a bigger impact than what Takane had expected. Seeing as she wasn't the heaviest or tallest person in the car, she moves with the impact, and much to her chagrin, right into Haruka.

The action successfully closes the gap between them, shoulder against shoulder in their current position. Her tired eyes find their way to his face, and when she spots the (seriously, is this guy a human heater or something?!) grin on his face, she wants to wipe it right off.

"Oi, what're sitting there for?!" She fails to scoot away, and so does the boy. At least she's too surprised to even move a muscle; Haruka, who'd been perfectly fine throughout the whole experience, just kept laughing.

(My heart hurts so much – I can't take it! It's a disgusting feeling!)

"It's not that funny, idiot!"

Cherry blossoms scattered themselves among the ground, and the girl let out a pleased sigh. She clings to her book bag with one hand, another stretched out to catch one of the falling petals. "It's pretty, isn't it, Shintaro?"

"Not really," he replies, apathy laced in his tone. She steals a glance at the boy, body warming up the minute she lands her eyes at his face. Her fantasies get the best of her, and she wonders if his skin really was as soft as they looked. She wonders if his hair's as silky and fluffy as it seems, and she wonders if his eyes would ever look at her differently.

But that's all wishful thinking! She spends one more second looking at his features before she looks away, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to relax her ever-racing heart. It twisted and turned, and it did front flips and back flips. It was absolutely torture.

To think that Shintaro would ever confess to me...

Her lips break into a small smile. She'd been falling for a long time; from their study sessions, to their free time, and to their daily school lives – she'd seen the different sides of Shintaro Kisaragi, and she loved all of it.

Ah, this is embarrassing, she whines, grip tightening on her bag's strap with each stride. To have these types of thoughts about a boy who's just a few inches away…really, what's gotten into her head?

"You're awfully quiet today." His voice drags her back to reality, and her brown eyes chance another look at him. (Ah, how handsome.) Her hands itch to cradle that face she's always known, but her mind tells her that it's better if she focuses on not letting her bag swing away.

"Me? Well, I was just thinking about stuff, that's all!" She tries to sound optimistic, to sound like her usual self. These days, however, she found it hard.

The aforementioned cherry blossoms brought romance with its budding flowers, classmates confessing and loving left and right.

Her father shook her head at all the students, making a disappointed sound with the click of his tongue. His glasses glare before his eyes turn to Ayano's; they could be stern and commanding, but this time, they were warm and playful. "You know, a lot of high school relationships barely last. That's because most teens aren't sure what real love is. They mistake spur-of-the-moment emotions for a person as infinite, and quickly mark them as 'the one'. You have to be careful. If you aren't, I'll hunt down the boy that hurt you for sure!"

Thank you for your advice, father, she says to him silently, following the falling petals one by one. You're a good man. I know you mean well, but…I think Shintaro won't hurt me. He's kind. I hope that when you see him, you won't scare him away…!

"What are you thinking about?"

He looks down at her, but not like he's degrading her or anything. It's an action that takes her breath away for a second before she coughs slightly, finding it difficult not to stumble on her words.

"Oh, you know…things!" She laughs, although she can feel he's not convinced. Straightening her spine, she tries to keep her smile steady. "It seems as if a lot of people are falling in love, don't you think?"

"Huh? What kind of thought is that?" He looks surprised, eyebrows creasing in confusion. Then they loosen up, and he maintains his gaze with the girl. "Well, yeah, it seems so. Sometimes I think our school's a giant set up for some shoujo manga or something."

"Aha, you think so?" This time her laugh is genuine; she's amused for sure, and once more the boy is puzzled. She wipes the loose tears from her eyes, hiding her blushing cheeks into her scarf, talking through the fabric. "That's surprisingly accurate, Shintaro."

"What'd you say?" He leans closer, and whether or not the situation was awkward for the both of them would remain unknown to Ayano. The redness she'd been trying to hide intensifies, and she attempts to keep her graceful posture.

"Oh, nothing important at all!"

"It's like people won't stop making out in the halls," Takane sighed, her face in one hand and a rice ball in another. Out of her disorganization in the morning (mostly getting prepped for her confession), she'd forgotten her lunch at home. Luckily, she knew a boy named Haruka Kokonose, and while he did love to eat, he was willing to share some of his food.

Not that she was hungry or anything. Her appetite seemed lost today.

"That's a disgusting image to put into my head, Enomoto," Shintaro retorts, hands on the rooftop's rails.

The rooftop was often where the quartet sat for lunch; since Haruka and Takane were third-years, and since Ayano and Shintaro were first-years, they didn't get to see each other often. Lunch seemed rather hectic below, as well. And so, being the good seniors that they were, they showed the other two (who they met during a gaming booth at their cultural festival) their "secret hideout"…as Haruka had stated it to be.

"But it's kind of true!" Ayano chipped in, taking a bite out of her sandwich consciously, spotting Shintaro looking at her from the corner of her eye. "Ah, so spring's in the air, isn't it…?"

"I think you mean 'love'!" Haruka's statement, while small and simple, almost ended Takane. The juice she'd received from him almost came out of her mouth like a spit take, and that wasn't the most beautiful of sights.

"Well, it's sort of the same thing, isn't it…?" Once more, she found herself heating up, and she found comfort in the cloth wrapped around her neck. At this point, Shintaro will figure out what's up…

Takane's mind, deeply frazzled and confused, decided that a change of topic would be nice. So did Ayano, and the younger was thankful that the other did such a thing.

"Oi, Shintaro, want kind of images were you thinking off?"

"You…!"

Oh no, oh no, oh no…! As if her day couldn't have gotten worse, it did. She shifted through her bag once, twice, three times with no success. She'd even taken out all of her notebooks and pencil cases to search for it, but the effort went to no avail. That piece of scrap paper with her confession written all over it was gone.

There goes all of her hard work – ha, what hard work? She'd read it so many times that 1) she's practically memorized it, and 2) she realized how stupid it sounded, playing off her (terrible, sickly, warm) feelings as nothing more but a sham.

Ugh, it's nowhere. She lets out a defeated sigh, taking in the scene of scattered materials. For a slight second she felt the tears pressing against her eyes, but she blinked them away, the sting wearing away when she pressed her lips together. It's a good thing no one was around the shoe lockers at this time; with the setting sun just behind her, most people yearned to go home.

Besides, this was a rather pathetic sight. Takane Enomoto, a girl well-known for her snapping nature, was on her knees, looking for a confession letter? Yeah, wouldn't that be cool.

She hears a slam from one of the lockers, and her hands move quickly to pick up the rest of her stuff. Shoot, I thought she was alone…! She could feel the sweat drops forming on her forehead, and while it seemed as if her heart pumped blood faster these days, it picked up its pace once more, this time out of terror.

Where do I go now…? Clutching the bag to her chest, Takane's glaring eyes find the school's gates through the entryway (and exit, she supposed). Ah, all she needed to do was walk away, and quietly. She gets ready to tip-toe her way over there, heartbeat getting louder with every step she took.

She reaches the end of the isle of lockers she was at, but before she breathes out a relieved sigh, there's a flash of green that crosses her vision.

"Takane! Ah, you're still here." The boy puts a hand over his chest, relief crossing his features smoothly.

She could recognize Haruka's scent anywhere, which was kind of creepy. (Hey, when you sit next to a guy on the train throughout your whole high school life, it gets to you.) She looks up, eyes widening and face deepening in its red shade.

This is bad, this is bad, this is bad…! It's like the train this morning, except she'd planned to confess right now. As in, she would have called him the minute she found her confession, but she had lost it, and God knows where it is.

But at this point, that piece of paper's the least of her worries. She finds herself fumbling over her book bag, raising it up higher to hide her embarrassing face. Ah, and her pigtails weren't so right, either. She wanted to fix them before confessing, but…

"What're you still doing here?" She inquires sharply, the tone done so in order to hide her dying of humiliation. Oh god, she was a mess. A tsundere, not-so-girly, and infatuated mess. Hah, what was she thinking, telling him her feelings? If she went into this type of mode every time he was around, it'd be shameful for the both of them.

"Looking for you." Her thoughts halt, and she blinks at him in surprise. The sunset's golden rays outline his shape, and while a majority of his stature remained in the shadows, she found herself focusing on his (really cute, really adorable – ugh, this is so sick) face.

"What?"

He takes a moment to breathe, and for a second she worries for his safety. Then his hands clasp her own hands, his skin touching hers with some sort of hot current that shocked Takane from her rigid state.

(He's so warm, and he really is soft…God, that's so gross! Stop it, Takane!)

He moves her bag away from her face before returning to holding her hands once more, and if her visage was drawn out (which Haruka did often, much to Takane's dismay), her mouth would be a wriggly line, cheeks painted with the deepest shades of reds and pinks.

Her knees go in, and she finds herself taken away by how close they were. Unlike the train, which yielded at least six inches of space, they were at least a few centimeters apart. She wasn't sure who stepped closer – Haruka or her. Today, it seemed as if Takane wasn't in control with her actions.

"Takane, I…" He trails off, his grip tightening on her hands. His laugh signals nervousness, and were anyone around, they'd think he'd found something funny. But her, knowing him and everything about him (but I want to know more), realized that there's more behind it.

So, so much more.

"Well? Spit it out!" It's prickly, tired, jagged – in reality, it made her sound harsher than she intended, and she feared that she might have just hurt his feelings. But it's too late now; she's said them, and she's not even sure of his motives.

But she's hoping that it's what she wants it to be.

(God, please.)

"I know this is sudden, but I like you! Like, really, really like you!"

She didn't have to worry about her hands losing circulation; her heart stopped right there, lungs struggling to breathe. Blood's not coming around now. Was her body even functioning? She didn't know. All she knew was that he said it, he liked her…!

"Idiot…" she mutters, and she closes the gap between them with her head. Her forehead presses against his chest, and this time, she's the one that holds tighter. "I had this whole thing planned out for a confession, but you went ahead and spoiled it."

"Ah…I'm sorry!" His apology rings in authenticity, and she feels her lips twitching into a smile. Letting go of his hands, she loops her arms around him, hugging him like there's no tomorrow. It's such a daring move on her part, and for a little bit she wonders if this moment's real. If it's a dream, she'd certainly find it cruel.

But no, it wasn't, and thank God for that. His arm does the same to her, pulling her so close he'd practically squeezed the air out of her. His other hand runs through her hair, sending the hair on Takane's neck to stand on their ends. Yet it's a gesture that seemed so right, and she laughs into his sweater.

"I think…I think it's better this way." Her voice is barely audible, but only loud enough for Haruka to hear. "If I'd done it, it'd gone worse."

"I would have said I liked you, no matter how bad it was!" Now he laughs as well, jolting her heart back to life. (It's so infectious, do I really deserve this boy…? Well, if he'll have me around, I guess I won't leave.) "Because I really do, Takane."

She breathes out. This may not have the confession she'd been prepping herself for, but there's still a phrase she has to say, words she'd wanted to voice for such a long time. If not then, why not now?

"I like you too, Haruka."

"It really is beautiful," the girl whispered to herself, allowing the humid spring breeze to brush through her hair. It's a somewhat calming scene despite the circumstances, and she takes in the rooftop's view, looking down at the bottom of the school with the faintest of smiles.

The sunset illuminated the trees, the numerous cherry blossom petals glowing in the light. The last bits of people were flooding out of the school, some with friends, teammates…if she looked closely, some of them were even holding hands.

I hope Takane's one of those people, she tells herself, their conversation from yesterday ringing in her ears. I'm really cheering for you!

"I might actually confess to Haruka tomorrow."

"Seriously?! That's great, Takane! You finished writing it?"

"Haha, about that…I haven't. I'm going to finish it tonight, though. Ugh, but it still sounds so stupid…"

"Don't say that! As long as it's coming from you, I'm sure it'll mean something to him!"

"Really…? You know exactly what to say to make someone feel better, Ayano. What about you, huh? There's something between you and Kisaragi; when're you going to fess up to it?"

"M – me?! No, I don't think I'm that type of person…"

"That's what I told her," Ayano mutters through her breathe, the setting rays stinging her eyes for just a second. Her father told her not to look at the sun directly, but when it's falling, it seemed…mellower. It didn't seem like it'd hurt her. "Now I just have to disprove it. Good luck to the both of us, Takane!"

The rooftop's door opens, the familiar squeaking catching Ayano before she drifted too far into her thoughts. She turns around, the ends of her scarf following her movements with elegance. Hands out in front of her, she clasps them tight, taking in one more breathe before speaking.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble, Shintaro!" She says, bowing slightly before standing right back up. She rocks on the balls of her heels, and gravity's kind enough not to throw her over the rails. "Ah, are you alright…?"

"Yeah, just…hold on…a second…" His words are broken by several gasps of air, hands on his knees. Even though they make the trek up the staircase every day, it seemed to tire out Shintaro in a matter of seconds. Ayano voiced her concern for his health before, but of course, he disregarded her.

(I only say that because I care about you, Shintaro. So please, take care of yourself.)

After he's done, he stands up straight, sweeping his hair out of his face as he joins her at the railing. He doesn't look at her, and she turns around once again to take in the outlook (that is, Shintaro, but she pretends to be looking at the distant hills and buildings).

"So why'd you call me all the way up here?" It's a question anyone would ask, and she finds herself holding onto the railing for dear life. "I did not just walk up those stairs for nothing, right?"

"No, no, I have something to say!" She laughs, and he looks at her out of contempt, mouth pouting in a way that concerned her. Her hands begin to sweat, and she has to try harder and tighten her grip on the rail so that she's stable.

You're always scolding me, Shintaro, but I know you have the best intentions. A sigh of reassurance.

You look displeased with everything I do, but I hope they help you somehow. A step forward in his direction.

Shintaro, I think I fell for you a long time ago. Her hands go behind her back now.

I hope you catch me.

"I've been meaning to say this for a long time." Once more she breaks into a laugh, although she doesn't stop herself now. Instead, she keeps going, as though the embarrassment's finally caught up to her. And maybe it has. When it dies out, she continues, saying, "I'm sorry, I really am, Shintaro. I don't learn, do I?"

"Learn what?" He sounds dumbfounded, and through the sinking sun, she can see that his cheeks had been tainted pink. (Ah, Shintaro, and you say you're too apathetic…) "Seriously, what're talking about?"

"Never mind, then!" She smiles, using her scarf once again as a haven. Ayano, please pick up the pace…! You're just stalling so you won't have to say it. Your siblings are waiting for you, so if you'd hurry up…

"Shintaro." She levels her back out so that she appears taller, but compared to the boy in front of her, she'd never get to his height. It's a disadvantage he'd pointed out multiple times, but she often agreed with him, complaining how she could never reach the top shelf of the kitchen, where most of the good snacks were.

"Shintaro," she repeats again, taking in one more breathe before continuing. "I'm sorry for taking so long, and I'm sorry for having to make you climb all this way just to talk. The thing is…aha, I had most of it in my head, but I've lost it…"

There's a silence that takes place, both uncomfortable, both assuming things about the other. She's really stupid, he mused; he's really patient, she promised herself.

(Please let me take my own advice.)

She takes a step forward, and with her hands clenched into fists, she proclaims her words with everything she's got. (I hope it's enough!)

"The thing is, I really like you, Shintaro!" There's no beating the warmth on her cheeks, and Shintaro's own face deepen in its shade. She can't hear anyone, or anything, in that matter; she's occupied her racing heart, the beat so loud it's the only thing she can hear. Now she really can't hear what her voice sounds like. "I've liked you for a long time, actually! I know that I'm no good for someone like you, but…please let me try to make you happy!"

And then there's another silence, and she waits with baited breathe for anything. An answer, another question – she'll take just a gesture at this point. The stillness was too much to bear alone, and she silently wished Shintaro would ease the pain.

And an eternity later –

"Tch. So it's that way, huh?"

It occurred to her that she'd gotten so close to the boy than she'd intended, their bodies just a mere inches away from each other. Before she could retaliate in surprise (and shame, running all over her body), his hand lands on her head, giving her a shy pat.

He doesn't look away; instead, he keeps his gaze on hers, and she finds that –

"Ah, Shintaro, your face is…!" Hands gripping her skirt, she hopes she's right. If he's really that red, that means...?

"I know, I know." He replies with words said through gritted teeth, his fingers curling to bunch up her hair. It doesn't hurt, but she mentally tells him that he's messing up her hair. Not that she cared, anyway.

"So – ?"

"Do I have to spell it out to you?" His free hand takes one of hers, and it's the greatest feeling in the world. "I feel the same way. And...Ayano, you don't have to try that hard to make me happy. You already do that to me everyday."