It's been a good while since I've read +Anima, and I apologize now if certain details conflict with the series (I can't remember whether or not Cooro ever lies in the books or not…). I probably prefer Husky/Nana to Cooro/Nana personally, but I think they both have the potential for being utterly adorable. Thus, I felt like exploring the aspect of Cooro/Nana, since it seems to be the less popular of the two. This takes place at the end of the series, and I'd say Cooro and Nana are somewhere between thirteen and fourteen in this particular episode. If you like absolutely preposterous fluff, then I hope you enjoy! I own nothing.

Cooro was fairly certain that what Nana wanted him to do would disgrace most self-respecting males. But Cooro just couldn't say no to people sometimes—especially when Nana asked so nicely and let her eyes turn wide and hopeful. And so he now found himself in his current position, his hands bound by layers of colorful yarn as Nana hummed quietly to herself, working the two needles between her fingers to the tempo of the quiet song she sang. Cooro had little else to do then watch mutely as the beginnings of a potholder for Margaret began to form beneath her needles. "I didn't know you could knit," Cooro mumbled, hoping he was allowed to speak.

"All proper princesses know how to knit," Nana replied, sitting more upright as she said so.

"Are you already a princess then?" Cooro asked, taken aback at the idea.

Nana frowned fiercely at the boy, her eyes only briefly leaving her work so as to glare at him. "I'm practicing for when I might have to make my own princess dresses," she said, avoiding the question, "If, of course, my seamstresses are too busy to sew one for me."

"I thought you wouldn't have to do anything if you were a princess," Cooro said meekly, feeling a bit reprimanded from her last scowl.

"Well, usually I won't. But I just want to be prepared," she chirped, obviously having forgiven his rudeness.

"That's smart of you," Cooro smiled, finding himself mesmerized by her swift fingers once again.

The faintest traces of pink dusted Nana's cheeks, "Thank you, Cooro."

"You're welcome, Nana."

A comfortable silence settled over the two of them, Cooro's back beginning to ache slightly from leaning forward for so long. "Nana," he began timidly, hoping not to offend the girl again, "will this potholder be done…soon?"

"Should be," Nana's eyes didn't leave her work, "why?"

"I, uh, it kind of hurts to sit this way," Cooro murmured quietly.

Nana sighed, and Cooro feared another glower. If he was being honest with himself, Nana intimidated him slightly. He wasn't sure why, but he'd began to catch himself watching Nana more often lately, eyes fixed on her person and heart thumping fast whenever she smiled or laughed that airy, idyllic giggle. And now here he was, unable to refuse holding her yarn for her in front of the small fire Harden had started that morning in the fireplace. These new emotions he'd been feeling also intimidated him—and that included his latest fear of angering Nana. "You don't have to hold my yarn, Cooro," Nana muttered beneath her breath, bowing her head lower than before so that Cooro mostly saw her bonnet instead of her golden locks.

"No, I want to!" Cooro insisted.

Nana raised her head, her green eyes locking with his brown ones. The slight pink returned to her cheeks, "No, really. If you're uncomfortable—I'm sure you'd rather be playing in the orchards."

"No, really I wouldn't," Cooro felt his face growing warmer—yet another new feeling.

"Well, why not?" Nana seemed to be working even more furiously than before—if that was even possible. Her complexion seemed flushed, Cooro thought-as if she was…embarrassed? Flustered? Cooro had never understood girls very well, so he couldn't be sure.

"Because I like being here with you," Cooro replied truthfully. He had always possessed a childlike honesty that made lying practically impossible.

Nana met Cooro's eyes briefly but gazed down yet again. Cooro began to realize that something was amiss-why else would Nana be acting so strangely? "But, if you wanted me to leave, Nana, I would," Cooro stated slowly, wondering if his presence was the true dilemma.

"Ouch!" Nana yelped, waving her finger and sucking it past her pink lips.

"Nana! Are you alright?" Cooro leapt from the chair, his string bindings tumbling to the floor.

"I-pricked myself," Nana explained, holding her finger in one hand delicately.

"Let me see it," Cooro urged softly, extending a tan hand.

Nana hesitantly placed her hand in his. Cooro stooped down and retrieved one of the fallen threads of yarn, daintily wrapping it around the injured finger. Nana watched in silence, her face rosier than ever. "There," Cooro forced a gentle smile, "Senri showed me how to do that. I hope-it helps."

"It does; it feels much better," Nana whispered, still staring at her hand in Cooro's.

Cooro could feel his hand getting sweaty-he hoped Nana wouldn't notice. His face, too, seemed to be growing warmer yet again as they stood there silently. Suddenly, Nana raised her head and leaned forward, standing on her tiptoes so that she was as tall as Cooro. She bumped her nose against Cooro's briefly from a lack of practice, but then her lips were resting pleasantly against his. Nana's pretty green eyes were closed, but Cooro didn't know whether or not to do the same; he'd never done anything like this at all. His brown eyes were still blown wide with shock when Nana drew back, a small, satisfied smile gracing her lips. "That was-um, thank you," she explained, "the way a princess would have said it."

Cooro swallowed roughly and parted his lips, but to his horror, he found himself unable to speak. Nana regarded him hopefully for a moment, but as he said nothing, seated herself again and reacquainted herself with her needles, looking so crestfallen that Cooro's little heart quivered. "I'm sorry," she said in a soft, timid tone, "I shouldn't have done that; I just—you were so—I'm sorry, Cooro. I won't do it again; you should go play now."

Cooro knelt down before her, beginning to gather the strings back into his hands. He was happy to find her watching him in confusion when he lifted his gaze. "But I still don't want to play; I want to stay here with you, Nana," he told her with a warm smile, secretly overjoyed at having found his voice again.

Nana smiled back at him, her cheeriness from before flooding back into her being. "Thank you, Cooro," her voice seemed shy and soft, something about her different than prior to their kiss.

"You're welcome, Nana."

Cooro bent forward over Nana's needlework and gave her lips another tender kiss just to make sure she knew that he meant it. And from the way she leaned into it, her hands clasping his over her potholder, he assumed she understood.