Blaze

By MadnessinmyMethod

Hino Kahoko could never stay furious for long. It simply wasn't in her nature to hold a grudge. Already she found her anger at Tsukimori Len, certain blue-haired and infuriating male, ebbing away. Sure, he had abandoned her after she had fallen asleep next to him on the practice room floor, but some kindness of heart had possessed him to lay his music student blazer about her shoulders as she slumbered.

Kanazawa-sensei had laughed at her when she had asked him where Len lived and struggled to keep a straight face as she blushingly explained that she needed to return Len's blazer, just in case he needed it. Kanazawa-sensei had written the address down and muttered something about "kids these days" when she left.

Kahoko held the slip of paper up in front of her, squinting at Kanazawa-sensei's impossible scrawl in the dim twilight. She sighed and walked forward resolutely, swinging the bag that held Len's blazer in her other hand.

Tsukimori Len was like a puzzle that she wanted to solve, but simply could not comprehend how to even begin. "Why must you be so complex?" Kahoko asked the sky. She paused a moment to check where she was. She was on the right street. She glanced at the number and realized she was standing in front of Len's house.

Actually, house was the wrong word. It was a mansion—a fabulously splendid, gated, and landscaped mansion. "Holy…" Kahoko was speechless; her jaw hung open and askew.

"Why are you gaping at my home like an idiot," said a voice as cold as ice.

Kahoko jumped and realized Len was standing on the other side of the barred gate, looking generally displeased. She thrust the bag forward. "Tsukimori-kun, I… uh… wanted to return your blazer in cause you needed it," she sputtered.

"Is that all?" he scoffed. "I have another." He took the bag and stared at her, wondering why she was still there. She seemed immune to his dark "go away" glares. "What?"

"I, um, wanted to say thank you," Kahoko said hurriedly. "And, um, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," he said turning away. "Don't bother about me. It's annoying."

He heard her utter a faint "oh" as he walked away. She was about to leave herself when he groaned, stumbled, and fell.

"Tsukimori-kun!" she gasped. He lay unmoving on the cold ground. Without thinking, she forced her small body through the bars, tearing some of the buttons off her uniform as she went. But Kahoko didn't notice. She was sprinting towards Len.

"Tsukimori-kun!" she repeated, kneeling down beside him.

"I'm fine," he protested weakly.

"You're a liar, is what you are," she replied fiercely. "Come on, get up."

Len was admittedly skeptical about her ability to help him inside, but he was astonished as she lifted him to his feet and slung his arm over her shoulder.

"Now walk," she said. It seemed all her reservations had been banished in sight of the singular goal of helping Len inside. She felt safe in ordering him around.

Len walked, trying to support as much of his own weight as he could, which was very little. Kahoko was small, but if she was struggling under Len's weight she didn't show it.

The paused on the doorstep a moment as she struggled to support Len and turn the knob at the same time, but it was only a moment and then they moved as swiftly as before. "Which way, Tsukimori-kun?" Kahoko asked, too focused to stand in awe of the grandiose entrance hall.

"Second door… on the left."

Kahoko nodded, her eyes filled with worry at his weak voice. What was wrong with him? They paused again as Kahoko waged war with the door knob. The door opened into a large but quaint living room. Kahoko supported Len the last few steps to the couch, then gently lowered him down onto the cushions. Despite her staunch disapproval, she allowed him to sit up.

Len shivered while Kahoko put her hand on his forehead. "You're burning up," she said. He bit his lip, trying not to shiver again (it wasn't manly), but Kahoko noticed. She took a blanket off the back of a chair and wrapped it around him.

"You really don't have to—" Len began.

"I know," Kahoko interrupted. "Where's your kitchen?" Len pointed to a door across the room from the one they had entered. "Call if you need me. And I mean it," she added sourly. She knew from watching her older brother that men were ridiculous when they were sick.

Len watched her stalk off and listened to her search his cupboards and clatter a few dishes around. Later he heard the high-pitched whistle of a tea kettle. Kahoko returned a few moments after bearing a steaming mug of tea.

Carefully, she set it down for him and Len gazed at her in wonder.

"What?" she asked, noticing his stare.

Len improvised quickly. "Uh, your uniform," he muttered, having just noticed it himself.

Kahoko glanced down and saw that her blazer hung open loosely and threads flopped where there had once been buttons. She waved it off. "It's fine. I'll sew it back later. Where do you keep your aspirin? It ought to help your fever."

Len wracked his brain. "In the bathroom, I think. It's straight across the hall."

Kahoko disappeared and returned a few moments later with a bottle of pills. She sat next to him on the couch, opening the bottle and measuring out two capsules. She handed them to Len. "Now, take two of these every four to six hours. And I swear if you're still sick and you show up at school tomorrow, I will drag you home myself…" She paused, realizing that she might not be able to enforce the threat. "Or I'll get Tsuchiura-kun and Hihara-senpai to help me," she added lamely.

Len rolled his eyes, not up to arguing with the red-head who had suddenly grown a backbone. He closed his eyes. "Thank you, Hino-san. For meddling in my life far too much."

"You're welcome, Tsukimori-kun. You should get some rest." She started to get up.

"Wait."

She stopped and turned back to him, her eyes shinning expectantly. Before she knew it, he had leaned forward swifter than a sick man should and pressed his lips against hers. Kahoko's mouth opened in a small "o" as she gasped in surprise.

Len pulled away but did not let her go. He searched her face, his own features impossible to read.

Kahoko blinked. "Th-that was the fever talking, right?" But Tsukimori didn't look apologetic. "Right?" She tried to pull herself out of his grasp, but he had gained a remarkable amount of strength since his previous collapse.

"No," Len said quietly and Kahoko tried to pretend she didn't hear the husky tones in his reply or see the desire burning in his eyes.

She put her hand to his forehead and tried to deny that it was already a great deal less hot than when she had last checked—almost normal. "No, definitely the fever," Kahoko lied distractedly. "You probably won't remember this."

"Yes, I will," he argued, getting slightly angered with her disbelief.

Kahoko shook her head vehemently. "Let me go, Tsukimori-kun. I need to go home."

Her agitation was clear and Len's strength was waning rapidly. He released her and watched with no small remorse as she all but ran from the room. He winced as the door slammed shut and he fell back into the couch.

"Why do I care?" he asked himself. It was a reasonable question. Len had never cared for another human being beyond his own immediate family and even with them, he was not one to show affection, let alone kiss a girl he barely knew and up to this point had treated indifferently if not coldly.

He vaguely wondered for a moment if she was perhaps right about the fever, but he brushed the thought away. Len knew full well that he was recovering vastly and there was something more to what he felt that he could not define in simple terms. Something seemed fundamentally changed in him.

Len did not forget, but he also did not tell Kahoko that he remembered when she first saw him the next day. She had cheerily asked him if he was feeling better without mentioning the fact that Len had kissed her. He had intended to discuss it, but only if she seemed to want to acknowledge it. If she didn't want him, he reasoned, then she was better off thinking that the entire incident was forgotten.

And so he left her, not mentioning a single word on the subject and unknowingly leaving Kahoko crushed.

Kahoko herself had decided not to bring up the topic. She had asked him if he was feeling better but mentioned nothing about the kiss. She figured that if Len did remember and he really did have feelings for her, he would bring it up himself. If not, then, well, why make him remember something his did not do intentionally.

And so she left him, not uttering a word about the kiss and, unbeknownst to her, leaving Len devastated.

One week later…

It would not do. Seven days had passed. The second selection had come and gone with embarrassing and perplexing results. Why had Kahoko saved him? If she wanted nothing to do with him, why would she search for him and say those… those things?!

Kahoko was a mystery to Len and as each day passed he grew more and more frustrated. It would not do. He could not stand another moment of whatever it was that he was feeling—this growing ache in his chest and a perpetual frown far worse than is usual cold demeanor.

He was going insane, he realized. It would not do. A powerful force was building inside of him and it was making him feel reckless and stupid.

Len was trudging down the music hallways when he reached this great epiphany. It was after normal school hours. His violin case hung in his hand, for once seeming heavy as if it were trying to get his attention to tell him something important.

In the midst of his grand realization he came to an abrupt halt. He was near the practice rooms and he swore he could hear the gentle vibrations of a violin. Could it be?

He broke into a run and burst through the practice room door.

"Tsu-Tsukimori-kun?" Kahoko stared at the second year violinist like he had six heads. He looked like a mess.

"Kahoko."

She was taken aback by the use of her first name, but even more so by the fact that he had set down his violin by the door and was closing the distance between them rapidly. It was a perplexing sense of déjà vu as several memories of some of Len's most erratic behavior flashed through her mind.

Len was standing—just standing—inches in front of her. He made no move to touch her. It would have been so easy to give in and his mind told him that it would not be completely irrational to do so. But he couldn't just yet. He couldn't make himself break.

"I remembered the entire time," he said softly, but Kahoko heard every word. "But I thought you would be happier if I didn't say anything. I can't stand it anymore. You had to know that I remembered." He lifted a hand to brush her check gently. "Please."

Without a word, she stepped away and turned around to face the plain wooden table in the back of the room that held only a few stacks of sheet music and her violin case. Len hung his head. "I understand," he said, turning to go.

Kahoko turned back around. "Where are you going?"

"What?"

"I was putting my violin away," she said, waving her conspicuously empty hands as proof, "so I wouldn't drop it when I did this."

Len smiled as her vacant hands wrapped around his neck and she stood on her toes to reach his lips. He pulled her close, feeling like he had a fever all over again.

Author's Note: Definitely more serious than usual for me. I almost turned this one into a tragedy, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, you get drama and fluff. If it's too much, then, well, I blame the Twilight vampire novels, which I've been reading because I needed to be able to back up my point about them being trashy teen romance novels. No offense to anyone who likes them. I know I'm a snob about books sometimes. Anywho, I get influenced by things I read, so if I got too dramatic with this one-shot, that's why. And this is only going to be a one-shot. There's no further plot to this and I can't drag fluff along forever. I can do humor like The King and Queen of Clueless, but not fluff. By the way, I will be updating that soon, either on my day off Tuesday (go vote, if you live in America that is) or next weekend. So thanks for reading this and please review if you've got a moment. Oh and this is dedicate to my best friend who hates the word "knob" (haha, used it twice).