誕生日の女の子

Natsume kept her promise and uttered not a word more of what they'd spoken about in the bathroom. But of course, Pai was still ruined for the rest of the day.

When they returned to the booth, Pai adopted fiercely renewed interest in the ridges and imprints of her napkin, dancing the tines of her fork along its surface and watching the dents deepen and rise and vanish in seconds. Someone speaking to her – even when it was Aoi, to ask if she was okay – did not make her look up from her napkin to reassure that she was fine. She didn't dare lift her face because then everyone would see her ruddy cheeks, even after she'd splashed water on herself to try cooling her overheated face. She didn't want to let anyone see it, especially not Shiori – or Kouta, for that matter – because they would make sure to ask, in the loudest possible voice, if she was all right.

They could be so obnoxious sometimes.

The only other way she found to drag herself from being red-faced was to think about Aihara. That only served to cast her mood down to the pits, which wasn't at all what she wanted either. She didn't speak much for the rest of the day, poking at her dessert and stirring the straw in her chocolate milkshake rather than actually drinking it.

Sometimes she thought she saw Shin watching her, but she convinced herself that she was just imagining things. Natsume's words were making her think she was seeing what wasn't really there. There was no way any of what she said was true.

That only made her feel worse, instead of better. Her entire system was in shambles, swinging from dizzying highs to nauseating lows so quickly that she was certain she was going to be sick at some point before they got home.

Aoi, Natsume, and Shuusei went home on their own at around five in the evening, since they all lived on the same street. Natsume randomly came up to Pai and gave her a tight hug, whispering in her ear that if she needed to talk to someone, Pai could always talk to her or Shiori or Aoi. Then she quickly re-joined her brother and Aoi on their way home. Shiori gave Pai an odd look as they started for the train station after that.

Pai worried about how she was supposed to explain what happened in the bathroom, something Shiori was certain to question, while strategically avoiding mentioning that she had unresolved feelings for a certain Daitengu she'd spent too much time with in the last few months. She knew that a vague answer would not satisfy Shiori's endless curiosity, but she didn't know how to come up with a plausible lie, either.

The headache continued to pound at her skull relentlessly the more her thoughts spun in round and round in never-ending circles.

"Good evening." Pai glanced up at the intercom speakers overhead, her stomach curling painfully. "There has been a minor delay with the five-thirty train. It will be arriving at five forty-five. We are sorry for the delay. Thank you for your patience."

She looked at Shiori at the same time as she did her. Both were pale, remembering the last time they heard that automated voice reciting the same words. The day she had been too afraid, and Shiharu died because of it.

A fine tremor shook her fingers and she looked down. A little part of her was intensely aware that Shin was looking at her as she stretched her fingers over her leg, watching for the customary shaking of her hands that hadn't made an appearance in a while. The amber gemstone in her ring flashed under the lights as her fingers trembled, and then went still.

She idly wondered if Aihara knew the reason why her hands shook like this. She worried that she was too scared to find out.

Scared. She was always scared, even when she had a blank face to hide behind.

When she looked up again, she met Shin's eyes. He held her gaze and cocked his head to the side questioningly. She shook hers; gave him a tight-lipped smile for his kind concern over the little secret she'd made him promise not to tell anyone about her, over a year ago now.

Kouta had noticed the look the two girls had shared, and nudged Shiori's shoulder. "Everything okay?"

Shiori nodded, putting her arm through his, seeking solace in physical touch. She was standing next to Kouta, and Pai was standing next to Shin. She would have moved, but that would be too noticeable, so she stayed put. That would be way too obvious a move for what it was, and she was still trying to pretend that everything was normal when everything was certainly not normal.

"Nothing." Shiori straightened her shoulders, a mental effort to push the memory of Shiharu's death away. "I'll tell you about it later."

Pai's gaze lingered a second too long on their interlocked arms. She wondered if she would ever get to have that. She wondered if she would ever be normal enough that she could shake someone's hand without wanting to immediately go and wash her hands, not because of fear of germs but because her bare skin had touched someone else's.

She wondered if her aversion to physical touch was because of what Rikuto said she was tortured for. Killing Akira for what he did to her. It made sense, in a horrible, revolting way that made her want to regurgitate her innards, a horrible way that had morbid curiosity filling her to the brim, wanting to know if it was really true, but scared of finding out that it might be, of what it would mean if it did really happen.

Scared. She was always so scared.

"So," Shiori changed the subject quickly. They all went with it. She was trying to grin bravely at Pai, and succeeding where Pai was more likely to fail. "How was today? Fun, right?"

Pai nodded absently, picking at her finger. "Much fun."

Shiori rolled her eyes at her frank lack of enthusiasm. "Come on. At least they got to meet Kouta. Plus, it beats sitting around at home and moping on your birthday, right?"

"Who said I would mope – " she cut herself off, eyes widening at the words that just shot out of Shiori's lips like they were supposed to, like Shiori wasn't supposed to say anything about her birthday to anyone.

Pai quickly looked up at Shin. His head was tipped back to watch the LED-lighted signs above them that listed out different locations, time intervals and schedules, and the names of trains heading which way and when. His hands were in the pockets of his black leather jacket (worn entirely for appearances sake alone).

Her heart clenched, railing at why he had to look so good in such a perfectly ordinary setting. Why did his jaw have to be so sharply chiselled? His cheekbones high, his eyes diamonds and rubies, his hair long only on one side that was interwoven with red, so tall and lithe like a beautiful black panther? Even his name was appealing without being showy, in a way she didn't understand.

Then she noticed Shin not at all reacting to hearing the words 'your birthday'. She would have felt a little bad that he didn't seem to care at all that it was her birthday, but she saw the corner of his lips twitch up just a bit. He wasn't focusing so intently on the signs that he didn't hear what they were talking about.

Train station signs were not that interesting.

"Did you – " she stared. "Did you know?"

Shin looked down at her, iridescent blue eyes mooning as he smiled. Her heart skipped a beat. He'd have looked innocent, if the wind hadn't swept his hair around to make him look like he'd just stylishly walked away from winning a bar brawl.

"Yeah, I knew."

Such simple words that had her convulsing heart imploding. She gaped at him soundlessly, digesting his words.

She shot a baleful glare at Shiori. "I thought I told you not to tell anyone it was my birthday!"

Shiori put her free hand up in self-defence, fiercely shaking her head. "Oi, don't look at me like that! It wasn't me, really!" she crooked her forefinger towards Kouta.

Pai turned her accusing glower on Kouta, who merely chuckled, not at all threatened – because how could little Pai threaten him? It was a hilarious idea. Never mind that he was Hengen, an Heir; he had almost twenty kilos on her, not to mention height.

"Hey," he shrugged. "I said I wouldn't tell anyone important it was your birthday."

"So Shin-san is not important?" she asked in surprise.

"Ow," Shin shot an affronted look at Kouta, putting a hand up to his chest. "That hurts."

"As if," Kouta deadpanned with a look straight off Gintoki's face. "You're a man of steel. Don't act like a softie, you manipulating bastard."

Shiori giggled, and Pai's own lips twitched in a smile she hid behind a cough she covered up with her arm.

"So I'm not important, you goddamned ostrich?"

Shiori let out a laugh at Shin's lightning-fast riposte, pulling her arm out of Kouta's to hold over her stomach as she bent over and tried to muffle her laughter when people started looking their way. Even Pai chuckled at the comeback, the darkness in her heart from Kuniumi's continued absence easing away. Shin and Kouta's rivalry-like banter never failed to amuse her.

Kouta glanced at Shiori with a wry smile, and then looked back at Shin. "Okay, look at it this way. If you were important, I'd have never told you it was Pai-chan's birthday. Then you'd never have known when to give her your present."

Sorry what.

"You got me something?" she squeaked, taken aback. Shiori looked just as surprised, although Kouta had a wicked glint in his eye.

Perhaps Kouta was the more dangerous of the Kouta-Shiori pair.

She glanced down, but there were no bags around Shin. Unexpected butterflies fluttered in her stomach. He hadn't bought anything the whole day, save for a cup of coffee at the café. She knew that because she was so hyperaware of every little move he made. She would have noticed if he bought something, but he hadn't. If he got a present for her birthday, did it mean he was thinking of getting it before today?

Stop it, she warned her quivering heart. Don't you dare.

Her heart paid her no heed. It continued to expand and contract painfully at the thought that he'd been thinking of her, thinking of getting her a present, before the actual day came.

Shin rolled his eyes. "Way to sugar-coat a blatant insult, Kouta."

Shin ignored Kouta's spluttering defence of himself and leaned down a little so that only Pai, who kept herself perfectly still, could hear him. He murmured, "I'll give it to you when two certain idiots aren't hanging around."

Ignoring Shiori's offended exclamation at being called an idiot (because of course she was listening), and trying to quell the fire in her chest from reaching its flaming fingers up to her cheeks, Pai just barely managed to get out, "I t – thank you, Shin-san."

He was smiling mysteriously to himself when he straightened, eyes fixed on her. He wasn't touching her, yet she was held prisoner by the intensity of his gaze. "I didn't want to say anything yet since you don't seem to want anyone to know it's your birthday."

She glanced at Shiori. She and Kouta were already occupied with themselves, muttering to each other so Pai and Shin wouldn't overhear. She shook her head, trying to get the tangled words out coherently. "I just...prefer it if no one knows."

He tilted his head to the side in that special way of his. "Why?"

Now how was she supposed to answer that? She couldn't exactly say that she wasn't feeling up to celebrating her birthday because of what Aihara said to her, because of her memory-dream, because of Kuniumi's prolonged vanishing act. There was no way she could say that. Not now, certainly, and she wasn't sure if she'd ever do it.

She shrugged. "I did not see the point in celebrating. Birthdays are not that special, I guess."

"'Birthdays aren't special'," he repeated, awed at how blandly she said it. He cocked a brow. "How so?"

"It is somebody's birthday every day," she answered smoothly. She'd thought up the excuse on the spot when Shiori confronted her on why she didn't want to do anything special today. Now, the lie came easily. "Following that logic, every day should be a special day, but it is not."

"What about your special day?" he asked, still watching her with single-minded focus that threatened to reduce her to ashes.

What about their special days? She couldn't help thinking dejectedly to herself as she looked up at him, unable to force any words out of her chest. What about the special days of everyone I killed? What about their families, who don't get to celebrate with them because they're not here anymore? Because of me?

Why did she get to celebrate hers when she was the one who stole countless birthdays from others?

And this...this would be the first birthday she spent without her family. The first birthday she remembered spending without her family at her side.

After swallowing down the bile in her throat, she just barely managed to churn out, "Mine does not matter."

"Oi, Pai-chan," Shiori called, leaning from around Kouta so that she could nod at Pai just as the sound of the train hurtling over the tracks filled the station, and the automated voice announced its arrival. "I know you said not to tell anyone your birthday and everything, but Obaasan knows, and she probably-more-like-actually-did bake a cake for you. So everyone's going to know anyway. Your plan failed."

Pai froze.

"But hey," Shiori hurried quickly. "You won't have to deal with the awkwardness of accepting presents from everyone because it'll be a little too late for them to go out and get something for you. Except maybe Daichi. I might have mentioned a while ago today's your birthday, and he never forgets anything. Ever."

She tore her eyes away from Shin, immensely grateful for the convenient interruption, gut tightened at the words.

"Shii-chan – "

"I swear I had nothing to do with it, Obaasan did it all on her own." Shiori immediately cut in, shrugging. She didn't look too sad about it.

The train slid smoothly into the station, whipping clothes and hair about as it slowed to a complete stop. Before they could get on the train, an army of people – office workers, cram school students, all kinds of people boarding the train to go home – swarmed through the doors that hissed open. They shuffled back so that they wouldn't be crushed in the onslaught.

She fought off an exasperated sigh. "How did you know she made a cake?"

Kouta looked away from closely watching the people shepherding themselves into the train, held up his phone and waved the screen just growing dim. He was smiling apologetically at her. "She texted me just now."

Oh, that's wonderful, she thought, suppressing a groan as she lifted a hand up to cover her eyes, a headache still hammering away. Never does Obaasan text anyone, but when she does, it's to tell her granddaughter's fiancé that she made a cake for me, and now everyone will know.

"Fine," she grumbled. Her lips twitched as she muttered lowly to herself. "It's fine, I guess. Whatever."

Shin was looking at her with a strange light in his eye, as if he was trying to figure out why she wouldn't care about her own birthday. She wondered how he would react if he knew why she didn't feel like making merry today. She wondered how he would look at her if he knew that Ayakashi and human blood coated her hands like a second skin she could never shed.

"Train doors closing in fifteen seconds."

"Fifteen seconds?" Kouta repeated, looking down at Shiori with an expectant light in his eye. "Think it's enough?"

"We should be getting in now," Pai said, watching the two in confusion. They should, even though there were still so many people pushing onto the train car.

She peeked up at Shin, but he was smiling to himself again as he watched the train fill up to capacity. This time she had no idea why. His eyes flicked to Kouta, and the two shared a look before Kouta turned away with a wide grin.

"Yep, should be." Shiori nodded, ignoring Pai's comment. "Five...three...two..."

Did she just skip a number? She frowned, gaze swinging from Kouta to Shiori. "Shii-chan? What are you – "

Before she could utter another word, Kouta tightened his hand around Shiori's and they sprang forward onto the train behind two office workers in dreary black suits. Pai yelped in alarm as the train slid its doors shut at their backs only two seconds after their feet landed inside, too fast for Pai and Shin to follow.

She gaped soundlessly as Shiori turned around and waved cheerfully at her through the big square of the window on one side of the door. Kouta, on the other door, gestured at Shin in a way she couldn't interpret.

What just happened.

The train started to pull away as the machine-controlled voice politely asked all passengers waiting for the next train in ten minutes going the opposite direction to please stay behind the yellow line. She startled when a firm hand wrapped around her elbow, and through the clothing her skin tingled at the touch. She looked up to see Shin pulling her back with a wary look on the train that sent loose strands of her hair flying about her head.

"Careful," he warned.

She glanced back down and saw that she had a foot over the yellow line, having unconsciously stepped forward in surprise at the move Kouta and Shiori just pulled. Her muscles tensed in fight-or-flight instinct at the memory of Shiharu standing on the train tracks. She had to forcibly remind herself that this was different. She was standing beside a Tengu – no, a Kamigami. Even Yori Chiisai that lingered at the train station on usual days steered clear of Shin, hovering by humans as far from him as they could get.

Her phone dinged at the exact same time Shin's did, and they both pulled them out – Pai out of the side pocket of her backpack, Shin out of the pocket of his jacket.

Is this girl serious.

She glared at her phone, as if it was the cause of all her troubles.

She stared at the laughing emoji, aghast. That was all Shiori replied with. Laughter. At Pai's expense. She fired off angry text after angry text that received no reply. Calling Shiori yielded no response, either. The stupid girl had switched off her phone.

Pai needed something heavier than a pillow to throw at Shiori's laughing face.

She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe Shiori just left her, alone, with Shin, and gone off on her own with Kouta. But then again, she could believe it. This was exactly like Shiori.

But what was worse, Shiori knew what she was doing. That infuriating grin of hers as the train pulled away said it all. Shiori probably noticed how Pai was avoiding being in the same breathing space as Shin without someone else there with them. Shiori had done the same thing Natsume did, and raced ahead to her own damned conclusions. She hadn't believed Pai when she'd insisted that she didn't have feelings for Shin.

She recalled Kouta and Shiori whispering conspiratorially to each other only minutes before the train pulled into the station. She'd bet good money that Shiori told Kouta about it. Those two were thick as thieves. In all likelihood, Shiori had told him about what she thought Pai felt for Shin, too. Her cheeks burned as she wondered if Kouta knew why Shiori decided it'd be a great idea for Pai to be left alone with Shin.

She swore silently. I should have been more careful.

She threw her hands up in frustration, whirling around to face Shin. "They were planning this all along."

Shin shrugged, seemingly unruffled by the turnout of events. "Maybe they wanted some alone time."

She did not want to venture in the direction that thought led to. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at his nonchalant attitude, trying to act normal when she felt like she was about to implode. "Did you know they were going to do that?"

Shin returned her look with a dead-fish gaze. "I was talking to you when those two planned that whole charade, remember?"

"Oh. Right," she mumbled, pink tingeing her cheeks.

Shin grinned at her, looking for all the world like he was a leisurely king counting his coins. "It's okay. The next train is coming soon. In twenty, we'll be on our way home. Nothing bad can happen, right?"

×

A lot can happen in twenty minutes.

The train slid into the station a few minutes later, and proved to be overcrowded the second they stepped on. There was a delay somewhere along the tracks despite it not being late, but it resulted in more people boarding one train. It arrived right on time, but she still felt like it was almost ten minutes too late, for how so out of sorts she was at being completely alone with Shin.

It was irrational to think like that. There were hundreds of people going this way and that as they wandered around the station. The train was so full that it was hard for her to so much as look to the side without bumping her nose on someone's shoulder.

But she felt like she was bared naked, incredibly aware of how close Shin was as they stood.

She found herself pressed up against the wall of the train, cradling her backpack in front of her stomach like it was a precious baby. It was the only way she'd found not to be touched by other people around her, and not to get shoved to the ground by someone trying to find space to stand. Each and every seat was occupied.

She was small and vulnerable, easy for anyone to trample over. Half of her was panicked at how many people there were around her, but the other half of her that was still spinning in circles around Aihara's words dampened the anxiety down enough that it didn't incapacitate her.

Shin stood in front of her, holding on to one of the swinging handles over his head. At six feet, he was tall enough that he practically towered over everyone else's heads. Even though he wasn't physically touching her, it was like he was a body shield, keeping people from getting too close. That was another reason she wasn't so terrified as she would've been if she was on her own.

It made a lance of something ugly pierce her chest every time she looked around and noticed the eyes of more than a few women and high-school girls in the train hooked on him. They followed every turn of Shin's body as he looked around, watching the scenery flash by, looking up at the time, or amusedly eyeing some stumbling passenger who had too many bags with them.

She tried to avoid looking at them, at the way they subtly eyed him, giggling behind their hands. She thought she even saw one of the high-school girls excitedly poking her friend when Shin hooked the longer part of his hair behind his ear. She didn't like how irate she got at the thoughts surely circling their minds about Shin. She wondered if those girls and women even noticed she was standing right next to Shin. Probably not.

A sudden sharp turn caught her unawares, and she stumbled, along with everyone else – except Shin. He somehow maintained his upright balance, blatantly defying gravity, but she wasn't able to. She just managed to keep herself from falling over, but she instinctively reached out to grab onto something to break her fall.

Once the train righted and she didn't feel so wobbly, her gaze followed her hand. She realized jarringly it was clenched tight around Shin's jacket. She quickly let go, stammering out an awkward apology and trying not to go red-faced as her heart pounded away, so loud that for a second she worried he'd hear it.

Shin flashed a quick smile. "You can hold on to me," he said quietly, leaning down toward her so that he didn't have to speak loud over the sounds of the train hurtling towards their destination. "Since the handles are too far for you."

She opened her mouth to immediately reject his offer, but then closed it as she thought about it. Wasn't it better to at least hold onto his jacket so that if the train made another sharp turn, she wouldn't fall completely against him? That would be more embarrassing, wouldn't it?

She could just imagine how Kuniumi would make sure to point out that that wasn't the only reason she wanted to accept his offer. Her chest ached.

"Th – thank you."

He nodded, eyes fastened solely on her.

Slowly, like he was a ticking bomb she was waiting to see if it would go off, she gulped and reached out, carefully holding on to the edge of his jacket. That was all she was going to do, all she could do. If she moved any closer to him than she already was, she really would light up in flames. She doubted anyone on the train was interested in witnessing a spontaneous combustion in such close quarters.

No other mishaps sent her hurtling faster down the rabbit hole of her feelings for Shin that she so desperately fought to keep from showing on her face. The train got to their station, and they set off on the busy street towards home.

She worried what would happen when they got back – and just how big of a cake Obaasan had baked. She had a tendency to go overboard when it happened to be someone's birthday, even though you'd never guess so from her permanently stern face. There was never any fear of leftovers, either. Even when he was stuffed to bursting, Haru made space for any food someone else couldn't finish (except Kaede. The two regularly battled over the last bit of food).

She inadvertently clung close to Shin at the sight of all the Yori Chiisai that overflowed the streets outside the station. He made no comment on it, and for that she was glad. She didn't want to admit that after all this time, the cold of Yori Chiisai still hurt her stomach, the fear of them still stinging like nettles.

Goryo trailed after unwitting humans out with their friends for a drink, out to explore the nightlife. Yosei tumbled off of slanting roofs and onto tables, dancing around all kinds of wares out for sale. She spotted some Noppera-bo around, while Onmoraki flew above their heads, leaving behind a shower of pale blue light from their wings that disappeared before they touched the heads of the oblivious humans wandering around below before fading away entirely.

Here and there, she spied Zashiki-warashi, protective childlike house spirits that she was surprised to see chasing off a bunch of Yosei that were trying to get into a restaurant. A few carried flutes, alternating between beating off other Yori Chiisai that came too close to their protected space, or playing a tune she didn't hear but still did the job of warding off unwanted supernatural creatures. They were the most humanoid Yori Chiisai she'd ever seen, little girls and boys wearing simple yet pretty kimonos and yukatas, with cherry blossom hair accessories. They were unbelievably pale, though, and when one of them turned to look at her, its eyes were completely black. Shivers danced down her spine at the sight.

All Yori Chiisai, save for the braver Zashiki-warashi, moved out of Shin's path as they walked down the street. More than a few trembled when they saw him, and when she looked up, she saw that he only smiled faintly at their fear of him. She couldn't understand why she thought of Kagetora when he did that. Kagetora would smile the exact same way at how Yori Chiisai reacted to him the way they were doing to Shin now.

She couldn't decide if that uncanny similarity between them was a bad thing or not.

They were turning right to start the hike up the mountain towards home when Shin slowed down where he'd kept up a brisk but easy pace for her to match. She glanced back at him with a small frown, wondering what was wrong. She looked up at the shrine, standing warm and cosy as it was bathed in warm lights from inside...and the Kamigami that resided in it.

Her lips twisted in irritation at Konohana, even though she didn't know what she was angry at the Kamigami for. She wondered if it wasn't even her own emotions she felt at that moment, or if it was some vestige of Kuniumi's intense hatred for Kamigami that Pai still didn't understand.

She shook her head off those morose thoughts, off her baffling longing for Kuniumi, and turned to Shin. She was now at eye-level with him because she stood a step above him on the stairs that disappeared into darkness in the beginnings of the forest behind them. He watched her wistfully, little frown lines crinkling the space between his brows.

She wondered if there was something wrong with the way she looked. Was her hair messy from the train? Or did she somehow have a little bit of chocolate from her earlier milkshake on her nose?

"Is something wrong?" she asked as she quickly rubbed the back of her sweater over her nose. No spot.

She caught him smiling at her move, before he shook his head. "There probably won't be any time for this when we get back," he started, referring to Obaasan's cake and the eventual barrage of happy birthdays from everyone. "Can I give it to you now?"

For a split second, she didn't know what he was talking about. Then she remembered that he'd gotten her a present for her birthday. Her eyes widened as she realized that he wasn't worried about something.

He was nervous.

Shin was nervous.

He was never nervous, about anything. He'd gotten a little cockier ever since they came back home from Ukabarenairei, no longer quite fitting the brooding older brother mould she'd set him in when she first started living at Ayashi House. He was always sure of himself, and he had good right to be so. He was confident in his looks and his skills, and was basically good at everything (except handling monkeys). What could possibly make him nervous?

Unless she was reading into this too much. That was probably it.

She thought she could understand why Shiori was so adamant to find any flaw in Kouta. Perhaps it made him more human, more reachable. It certainly made her feel like that, before she squashed down the little flare of hope igniting in her chest. But she couldn't deny a twinge of surprising happiness to see Shin nervous about giving her the present he got for her birthday. She would never voice it aloud, though.

"Okay," she readily agreed, trying not to let her excitement show (too much).

He nodded, relieved, as if he'd genuinely thought she would outright refuse something from him. She wanted to laugh at how silly that idea was. He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head and reached into a pocket lining the inside of his jacket, at chest level. Right where his heart was, she couldn't help noticing.

Slowly, like he was afraid of breaking it, he pulled out her gift, and she couldn't suppress a gasp as he pooled it in his open palm.

She'd never really thought of herself as a jewellery type of person. So far that was something that had always held true for her, amnesia or not. She wore the pendant Kanou got her, but she often forgot to put it on in the morning. She wore the ring Daichi gave her mostly out of fear of what would happen if she didn't.

But this...this was different.

She didn't think she'd seen anything so beautiful her entire life. The chain of the necklace was made from delicate fetters interlocking with each other. The silver glinting in the low light of the streetlights behind them made the chain look almost alive. In the middle was a feather, black at the top and circled with a line of silver that kept it attached on a little hook to the chain, and greying out to white along the outer edges.

She couldn't believe how beautiful it was, how it was almost ethereal. Then she realized why the feather looked so familiar.

It was his. It was a feather from Shin's wings.

"This..." she could barely speak. "This is..."

"Mine." He shrugged nonchalantly, a careless move that was an effort to hide his nerves. "You forget your pendant sometimes, and the ring might not always be enough. I thought it would be easier for you if it was one thing doing the work of all."

She was only half-listening, uncaring about the pragmatic dressing he gave to the necklace as she marvelled at its aery beauty. Yes, it would be easier to wear a necklace that acted as both the ring and the pendant, but that wasn't the only thing.

This wasn't a necklace he just walked into a store, saw, and bought on a whim. This wasn't some mistaken or quickly thought-out gift. Shin had taken a feather off his wing to make this for her. He'd been thinking about her when he did it. He'd made it for her.

She brought her wide eyes to him. A stray fraction of light fell on him from the streetlamps lining the road, and the red streak down the longer right side of his hair was bright as a flame dancing through his hair. His eyes were the deep blue she'd committed to memory, unfairly long and dark lashes lowered as he regarded her with a look she couldn't quite interpret.

She was unable to snap her mouth shut as she reached out a tentative hand and stroked the feather. It was unbelievably soft, more so than she imagined, yet still definitely real. "You're really giving this to me?"

"Who else would I give it to?" Shin chuckled lowly.

She floundered. Kouta had done the same for Shiori – but they loved each other. They were going to get married as soon as Shiori was old enough and ready to. Did Shin know what he was doing now? Did he even have a clue what he was doing to the fragility of her heart by giving her this?

"Do you...do you want it?" he asked quietly.

Her gaze snapped up to his. "Of course!" her shoulders hunched a little as she added shyly, "I – of course I want it."

He smiled. Pai thought her heart was going to explode. He looked so relieved that she was accepting his gift. He gestured. "Do you want me to put it on?"

Astounded, still unable to believe that Shin was doing this for her, wondering what it meant that he did know what it meant to her, she nodded. He motioned for her to turn around and she did, moving on automaton as she tried to imprint the image of the necklace in her mind, forever burn it in memory so that she would never forget it.

She heard the little hook unclasp. Her breath halted as Shin stepped up so that he was right behind her, so close that if she made even the tiniest move, she'd be touching him. She kept still as a statue when she felt the hairs at her nape stir from his warm breath, tickling her. A wave of goosebumps rose up her spine, and she fought to keep herself from shivering at the sensation.

His hands were steady and sure, unwavering. She looked down at the necklace as it settled right over her heart. She reached up reverently to touch the feather, half afraid that it would disappear. It didn't. It was real. She wasn't imagining any of this.

"Done," he murmured by her ear. She thought he lingered for a heartbeat longer than was absolutely necessary, but changed her mind and decided that if there was anything she was imagining, it was that.

She stepped forward and turned to him, pulling her braids out so that her hair wouldn't get caught in the interwoven fetters. After a long moment of staring down at the beautiful gift in awe, she lifted her eyes to his.

"Thank you," she breathed. She looked down, admiring the delicate beauty around her neck. The chain looked dainty, but when she touched it, she could tell that it was made of sterner stuff, and probably not all that easy to tear. "It is...it's beautiful."

The words were so inadequate, unable to convey just how much emotion broiled in her at that moment. A part of her wished she could say something more, yet she didn't know what to say. Another part of her was glad that she had no more words. If she tried to speak again, her throat clogged with too many unvoiced thoughts and feelings, she might blurt it all out. She might ruin this perfect moment that would be ingrained in her memory for as long as she lived.

She asked nervously, "How does it look?"

Do I fit it?

Shin gave her a small, pleased smile. "It looks like you."