008 | OVERFLOW

[godsoffortune]

This is an overflow post for 008 | Sakura 2.0: You Can (Not) Have A Picnic. Please bring any further comments here and link to your threads at the original source.

Thank you!

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[galactically]

[Sheryl isn't affected by the sharpness, only the mildest of boredom making itself known across her face until her brows tense up. Any questions she may have remain in the back of the mind, left unsaid.

"Lost them", he said. It can mean many things. Did they die? He said his songs are meant for three people, which means he's part of a group. Did his trio break up due to creative differences? Irreconcilable points of view? Whatever reason may be, he wants them back. She can tell from his resolve.

Yet another difference between them: Sheryl prefers to perform solo. No duets unless it's with Ranka Lee or Nekki Basara.

There's a frown on her face, a genuine look of concern. Her relationship with him may not be good, but she refuses to express pity. That's like looking down on someone and she already told Slaine how she detests it.]

I see. Now I understand the kind of man you are.

[Keito will hear a soft clacking of heels approaching him along with a ruffling of clothes. Something is now carefully plopped on top of his head with a faint scent of floral perfume. His glasses.]

[lecturehall]

[The return of his glasses is a small relief, if only because it means release from this odd brand of torture. That's what it is, isn't it? Forcing him to admit all the things he keeps secret, not out of fear of others knowing, but out of fear of reminding himself. Rekindling that longing he can't embrace is too much pain to place on his already weakened body.

He puts his glasses on but keeps his gaze low, trained on his own knees than anything else. There's no dignity in the emotions he's feeling and he takes no pride in the flushed cheeks the cherry blossoms brought on. He can't face her in such a state. He couldn't face anyone.]

And is that all you wanted to know?

[What kind of man he was. The statement alone exhausts him.]

[galactically]

[The more she watches Keito from her position on stage, the more she notices a few glaring similarities. Even the way his gaze focuses on his knees and nothing else is too reminiscent of her own posture, reminding her of a time when she revealed a vulnerable part of herself in front of Alto. The classic huddle pose. She's not really sure what to think of it, save for the push and pull that instills within her chest.

Curiosity can be an addicting thing. It's what she learned.]

Not really.

[That's not all. Sheryl's tone is more or less neutral, her gaze lingering at the sky above their heads. Slowly, she stretches a hand out towards the sky as she takes a few quiet steps back.]

A man can't fly alone. He mustn't fly alone. That's what he said to me.

[lecturehall]

[The air between them is changing. There's a bridge being built, the blueprints laid out between them. They're not level, not even close, but there's something within Sheryl's voice that deeply resonates with him.

The click of her heels pulls his gaze to her once again. Despite everything, she really was a surprising woman. He had expected her to leave fully satisfied with the few answers he'd given her. Instead, he follows her eyes to the sky and watches as the stars sit in her outstretched hand.

It's the first time she strikes him as beautiful, though not in the typical way. There's no attraction, no racing heart beat or blush further than the one the blossoms brought about. It's simply that, standing there with one hand pressed towards the moon, he sees a glimpse of her. A more sincere facet of her personality twinkling in the night. For a minute, Keito watches her in awe, taking in his first view of her complexities.

After something like that, it's only fair to share a bit of his own, right?]

He was smart. It's painful, trying to struggle against the wind alone. Even the birds know that. They fly in groups to catch the drafts the ones in front of them create. In a way, they survive on support.

[Keito follows her lead and tips his head towards the sky.]

Man isn't any different. Because I can't be alone, I'll bind these restless wings of mine until my flock finds me. When we all remember how to fly... then we'll reach the moon.

[galactically]

[For the first time ever, Sheryl is taken utterly back by a man's words — in a good and bad way. Despite the fact that she's right in the middle of the stage and Keito is leaning on the edge, his voice is able to reach her, catching up to her until it's inescapable. To think that she couldn't stand this man at first, and yet...

And yet an image of Alto flashes in her mind, a pair of defiant yet warm amber eyes staring right back at her, his long blue hair flowing in the wind. It's the kind of image that causes her heart to beat mercilessly against her chest until it hurts.

There's a piece of Alto within Keito, Sheryl suspects, the most attractive and alluring part of him emerging from words about birds and flight. To think it's the one thread that binds them together in this very moment — thin and fragile, but with a capacity for growth. Her own gaze meets his as her hand remains in the air, tilting it up so that it looks like she's cupping the moon.

It's selfish of her, she knows this, but she quickly latches on to his words.]

Please don't do that. Don't ever bind your wings.

[Sheryl's words are a gentle plea. For Keito to admit that he needs someone, his own group, it's admirable to her. Not many men are willing to say such words easily... but the concern easily spreads across her face.

To her, a bird with bound wings is no different from a bird in a cage.]

Don't ever wait for them to come to you. [She drops the hand and points at him, her expression shifting into grim determination.] You should spread those wings and fly to them instead!