shirasakura (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} shirasakura) wrote,@ 2007-09-27 17:09:00 |
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| Current mood: |  tired |
| Current music: | Natalie Imbruglia - "Come September" |
[September 26][Original, slightly Prince of Tennis] Gold and Crystal
Ugh, don't ask what made me write this. Absolute crap. Also, written yesterday, posted here today because when I finished I was kinda a candidate for the Walking Dead. Prince of Tennis teaser only to attract readers. Find the reference and win!
Title: Gold and Crystal
Day/Theme: Sept 26 - your hair was long when we first met
Series: Original, slightly Prince of Tennis
Character/Pairing: Original, forced boy x girl, girl x girl
Rating: PG-13
her hairs were gold, crystal the other's eyes
--William Shakespeare
Hikari was not a good girl, not in the general opinion of adults and definitely not in her school records, marred for starting several fights, mostly with boys. However, she didn't start this fight. Some girl had bumped into her, and took it the wrong way, so now Hikari was forced to fight with all her friends.
Hikari fought well, but despite being roughly the same size and shape as the last fighter, she still found herself pinned, the other girl's long, strong fingers entwined and pulling on Hikari's hair, her greatest pride and strongest weakness.
"Such long, pretty hair you have," said the girl, in a manner that reminded Hikari of the story of a wolf and a girl in red. The girl tugged on her hair again, and Hikari barely had time to wince at that before flinching away when a pair of lips touched her brow. The girl drew back and looked Hikari in the eyes, a predatory smile on her face. "For a fight well-fought," she said, releasing Hikari.
Hikari ran.
***
The next day was something of a shock to Hikari. She went to school as usual, but when lunch came round was when she received the shock.
"Hello-o," a voice trilled from behind, and Hikari jumped. She turned around to see the girl from yesterday--the smaller one, the one that had--
"W-what are you doing here?" asked Hikari, wondering why her voice was shaking. Maybe because this was the first person who could beat her, or because this was the first person who had--
"I go here," the girl simply stated, gesturing at her uniform, which was completely identical to Hikari's. Hikari started when a breath tickled her ear. "Surprised to see me?"
Hikari didn't dine to answer, and ran--walked very quickly--away.
***
Hikari didn't see the girl at school for a while. She was, Hikari figured, one of those girls her mother had tried to warn her about, and cried over everyday because she thought her daughter was one of them. Hikari only managed to find the girl again by luck, seeing her pounding a vending machine with her fist, after Hikari had left her flat during a fight with her mother.
The girl must have had Hikari-radar or something, because she turned to Hikari before Hikari could run in the opposite direction. "What's up?" she asked, falling into step with her.
Hikari didn't feel like telling her life's story to a pervert (which was what she eventually decided upon for the girl), so she just grunted and walked on.
But the girl was persistent. "Want something to drink?"
"No." Hikari just wanted to get away, not share a drink with her.
"Too bad. See you at school tomorrow."
***
True to her promise, the girl showed up at school tomorrow, and trailed Hikari at lunch. And the day after that, and the day after that, after that, after that until Hikari finally managed to force herself to eat in front of her, a girl who had taken to her like some sort of stray cat who wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. It was several more days later before Hikari worked up the nerve to ask her.
"What's your name?" She had looked in the yearbooks but couldn't find anyone who looked like the girl, with her light gray eyes, thin face, and short, boyish hair, styled into ways she had only seen on Westerners.
The girl seemed to think about it. "Call me Delilah," she said eventually, the foreign name rolling off her tongue in a way that made Hikari jealous.
"Fine." Hikari pouted, upset that she didn't learn the girl's real name, which Delilah took as the opportunity to undoing Hikari's neat plaits and rearranging her hair into a messy bun, the sort she saw only in magazines and on girls with more skillful hands than Hikari's own.
***
Hikari found herself liking the girl, despite their first meeting. Delilah had made no advances on her since then, and only played with her hair when Hikari was too upset to care. She didn't ask, but just undid whatever Hikari had done that day and transformed it into something Hikari could never emulate on her own.
Maybe it was friendship. Hikari wasn't sure.
She liked it if it was.
***
The senior student slammed her to the ground. She started to kick and hit him, and although several times she did strike him, and each time he grunted in pain, soon each of her limbs was pinned to the ground with the rest of her.
"What the hell are you doing?" she yelled, hoping to catch attention. She struggled against her attackers but there were five of them and one of her, and four were literally on each of her arms and legs. "Get off of me."
"You're really quite beautiful," said the main senior student, running a finger down her cheek. She tried to bite it. He quickly moved his hand lower, and then up her shirt. "So small," he noted, squeezing one of her breasts.
She screamed. A hand covered her mouth, but the damage was done. A loud crack sounded as stick--tennis racket?--hit one of the seniors sitting on her legs, followed by several more, until the only ones conscious were Hikari, the senior with his hand still up her blouse, and Delilah with--yes, it was definitely a tennis racket.
"Get--away--from--her," Delilah said, each word punctuated with rage. The senior didn't move, and still had his hand cupping her breast.
CRACK. He toppled sideways, fortunately, and not more on top of Hikari. His hand slipped out, and Hikari pushed him off of her, worsening his head injury when he hit the pavement with a resounding THUD.
"Come on. Let's go." Delilah's hand was shaking as she pulled Hikari up and led her off of school grounds through an entrance Hikari had never seen before, and apparently neither had the teacher's.
***
Delilah led Hikari to her home, gripping her hand tightly. Hikari wanted to pull free, but thought it would be worse if she did. So her fingers were numb by the time Delilah let go to fish her keys from her backpack.
"My parents won't be home until later, and my brother never gets home this early during tennis season," said Delilah, as Hikari distracted herself by staring at the nameplate. Kirihara.
Hikari took her shoes off at the foyer, and followed Delilah up to her room. It was nothing like she had imagined. The walls were stark white, and her bedspread a soft purple. The floor and desk were immaculate.
Delilah led her to her bed and sat down next to her, and fingered the ends of Hikari's hair. "I've heard," she started. "I've heard that men attack girls with long hair because they can hold onto it better than short hair."
Hikari ran her hand through her hair. "I don't think I need to, if you're around." She smiled shakily at Delilah, whose name was actually Midori, if the paper sitting on her desk was right.
Delilah smiled back, and Hikari didn't resist as slightly chapped lips pressed against hers.
--William Shakespeare
Hikari was not a good girl, not in the general opinion of adults and definitely not in her school records, marred for starting several fights, mostly with boys. However, she didn't start this fight. Some girl had bumped into her, and took it the wrong way, so now Hikari was forced to fight with all her friends.
Hikari fought well, but despite being roughly the same size and shape as the last fighter, she still found herself pinned, the other girl's long, strong fingers entwined and pulling on Hikari's hair, her greatest pride and strongest weakness.
"Such long, pretty hair you have," said the girl, in a manner that reminded Hikari of the story of a wolf and a girl in red. The girl tugged on her hair again, and Hikari barely had time to wince at that before flinching away when a pair of lips touched her brow. The girl drew back and looked Hikari in the eyes, a predatory smile on her face. "For a fight well-fought," she said, releasing Hikari.
Hikari ran.
***
The next day was something of a shock to Hikari. She went to school as usual, but when lunch came round was when she received the shock.
"Hello-o," a voice trilled from behind, and Hikari jumped. She turned around to see the girl from yesterday--the smaller one, the one that had--
"W-what are you doing here?" asked Hikari, wondering why her voice was shaking. Maybe because this was the first person who could beat her, or because this was the first person who had--
"I go here," the girl simply stated, gesturing at her uniform, which was completely identical to Hikari's. Hikari started when a breath tickled her ear. "Surprised to see me?"
Hikari didn't dine to answer, and ran--walked very quickly--away.
***
Hikari didn't see the girl at school for a while. She was, Hikari figured, one of those girls her mother had tried to warn her about, and cried over everyday because she thought her daughter was one of them. Hikari only managed to find the girl again by luck, seeing her pounding a vending machine with her fist, after Hikari had left her flat during a fight with her mother.
The girl must have had Hikari-radar or something, because she turned to Hikari before Hikari could run in the opposite direction. "What's up?" she asked, falling into step with her.
Hikari didn't feel like telling her life's story to a pervert (which was what she eventually decided upon for the girl), so she just grunted and walked on.
But the girl was persistent. "Want something to drink?"
"No." Hikari just wanted to get away, not share a drink with her.
"Too bad. See you at school tomorrow."
***
True to her promise, the girl showed up at school tomorrow, and trailed Hikari at lunch. And the day after that, and the day after that, after that, after that until Hikari finally managed to force herself to eat in front of her, a girl who had taken to her like some sort of stray cat who wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. It was several more days later before Hikari worked up the nerve to ask her.
"What's your name?" She had looked in the yearbooks but couldn't find anyone who looked like the girl, with her light gray eyes, thin face, and short, boyish hair, styled into ways she had only seen on Westerners.
The girl seemed to think about it. "Call me Delilah," she said eventually, the foreign name rolling off her tongue in a way that made Hikari jealous.
"Fine." Hikari pouted, upset that she didn't learn the girl's real name, which Delilah took as the opportunity to undoing Hikari's neat plaits and rearranging her hair into a messy bun, the sort she saw only in magazines and on girls with more skillful hands than Hikari's own.
***
Hikari found herself liking the girl, despite their first meeting. Delilah had made no advances on her since then, and only played with her hair when Hikari was too upset to care. She didn't ask, but just undid whatever Hikari had done that day and transformed it into something Hikari could never emulate on her own.
Maybe it was friendship. Hikari wasn't sure.
She liked it if it was.
***
The senior student slammed her to the ground. She started to kick and hit him, and although several times she did strike him, and each time he grunted in pain, soon each of her limbs was pinned to the ground with the rest of her.
"What the hell are you doing?" she yelled, hoping to catch attention. She struggled against her attackers but there were five of them and one of her, and four were literally on each of her arms and legs. "Get off of me."
"You're really quite beautiful," said the main senior student, running a finger down her cheek. She tried to bite it. He quickly moved his hand lower, and then up her shirt. "So small," he noted, squeezing one of her breasts.
She screamed. A hand covered her mouth, but the damage was done. A loud crack sounded as stick--tennis racket?--hit one of the seniors sitting on her legs, followed by several more, until the only ones conscious were Hikari, the senior with his hand still up her blouse, and Delilah with--yes, it was definitely a tennis racket.
"Get--away--from--her," Delilah said, each word punctuated with rage. The senior didn't move, and still had his hand cupping her breast.
CRACK. He toppled sideways, fortunately, and not more on top of Hikari. His hand slipped out, and Hikari pushed him off of her, worsening his head injury when he hit the pavement with a resounding THUD.
"Come on. Let's go." Delilah's hand was shaking as she pulled Hikari up and led her off of school grounds through an entrance Hikari had never seen before, and apparently neither had the teacher's.
***
Delilah led Hikari to her home, gripping her hand tightly. Hikari wanted to pull free, but thought it would be worse if she did. So her fingers were numb by the time Delilah let go to fish her keys from her backpack.
"My parents won't be home until later, and my brother never gets home this early during tennis season," said Delilah, as Hikari distracted herself by staring at the nameplate. Kirihara.
Hikari took her shoes off at the foyer, and followed Delilah up to her room. It was nothing like she had imagined. The walls were stark white, and her bedspread a soft purple. The floor and desk were immaculate.
Delilah led her to her bed and sat down next to her, and fingered the ends of Hikari's hair. "I've heard," she started. "I've heard that men attack girls with long hair because they can hold onto it better than short hair."
Hikari ran her hand through her hair. "I don't think I need to, if you're around." She smiled shakily at Delilah, whose name was actually Midori, if the paper sitting on her desk was right.
Delilah smiled back, and Hikari didn't resist as slightly chapped lips pressed against hers.