• The branches of the willow tree whipped in the sudden brisk autumn wind. Ame shivered, and pulled her knee-length white wool coat closer to her body in an attempt to preserve precious warmth on the long way home. She still had a few miles to go. It was nighttime, and Ame knew that she should have left when her mother had advised. Instead, she was walking down a dark and empty street in the middle of the night, with a freezing wind whipping her short ashy locks into her red, stinging face.
    Ame had a bad feeling about tonight. She hadn’t heard any noise other than the wind and her own shivering for a long while. The wind slowed, and leaves danced along the cracked asphalt, causing an eerie scratching sound.
    Crunch. Ame stiffened, and paused, one foot raised. It was the sound of leaves being stepped on. For the whole first half of her walk home, the hairs on the back of her neck had been going haywire, warning her of a danger she could not see, only sense. She started to walk again, faster this time. All the senses in her body was telling her to flee – to run away as fast as she could possibly go. But her curiosity made her hold back.
    She had been told to not make stupid decisions, and here she was - ignoring her gut instinct, just for the sake of her never ceasing curiosity.
    Crunch. Her neck hairs were moving as fast as a satellite, as if they were trying to find the danger themselves. She hurried herself more, at the same time scanning all directions, looking for answers in the weak light of the thin, waning moon. Her eyes missed a pothole in her distraction, and she fell to the ground, skinning her knees and the whole length of her forearm, which ripped the sleeve of her coat and blood trickled onto the ground. Ame winced in pain, and struggled to stand up. The wound on her left knee was deep, and stung horribly.
    Crunch. Ame stood up abruptly, ignoring the pain. That sound. She started to speedily walk again, cursing herself for not running all out when she’d had the chance. After a few feet, her knee twinged, and gave out on her, splattering bright scarlet blood on the ground where she landed underneath one of the sparse streetlights. Her heart dropped down to her stomach. The footsteps were resonating louder and closer. Ame cowered on the ground, and hid her head underneath her arm. The footsteps stopped a foot away from her.
    “Are you okay?” A pure, crystalline male voice asked, with a hint of desperation in his voice. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she jerked away. He removed his hand.
    “I’m not going to hurt you.” He told her softly, “I saw you fall, and wanted to see if you were okay.” Ame slowly raised her head to look into the face of the boy. All the blood in her body rushed up to her face at the sight of him.
    He was insanely beautiful for a boy. His hair was a deep strawberry blonde that seemed to shimmer in the weak light coming from the flickering streetlight. His eyes were different colors, heterochromia it was called, if she remembered correctly. His left eye was deep mocha brown ringed with golden amber, and his right eye was a deep icy sapphire blue with sea foam colors around his pupil. He was staring in concern at the blood. He pulled his scarf from his neck, and wrapped it tightly around her knee, in an attempt to stem the bleeding. She winced as the black wool wound tightly, cutting into her scrape.
    “Can you walk?” He asked, holding out a hand for her to get up. Ame grasped his hand, and pulled herself to her feet, only to wobble and land on the ground again. Ame shook her head while she winced, and bit her lip to stop from crying out. The boy studied her, his oddly colored eyes boring into hers, as if they could read deep into her soul. After a moment, he stood up with a small outtake of breath. He picked her up, and held her in his arms, bridal style. Ame was blushing wildly now. He started to walk, her weight not having any impact on him. She put a hand on his arm, and felt strong muscles through the fabric of his coat. He sent an amused glance down at her, as she jerked her hand back in embarrassment.
    “Where do you live?” He asked, his eyes boring into hers again.
    “I-It’s still a few miles away.” Ame confessed, telling him her address. The handsome boy’s eyes brightened.
    “Then, we can get to know each other a bit.” He said, a cheery smile spreading across his face, his eyes brightly twinkling. Ame blushed again, her ears burning.
    “O-Okay.” She managed to squeak out.
    “What’s your name?” He asked, glancing up as he turned down another street.
    “F-Fujisaki Puramuame.” She stuttered. “But everyone calls me Ame.” His eyes studied hers. “Plum rain.” He said, referring to her first name. “How do you spell it?” He inquired.
    “My last name is spelled with the kanji for ‘promontory’ and ‘wisteria’. My first name is spelled with the characters for ‘plum’ and ‘spring rain’.”
    “An unusual spelling and name.” He muttered under his breath, his eyes boring into her emerald ones once again. “But it fits you.” Ame screwed up her courage.
    “And yours?” She asked, “What’s your name?”
    “Tachiana Riki.” Was his reply. Ame blinked. And he had called her name unusual.
    “Tachiana? That’s an uncommon name as well.” Riki smiled wryly.
    “So I’ve been told.” He glanced up at the street signs as he turned another corner.
    “C-can I call you Tachiana-kun?” Ame stuttered, not wanting to sound too familiar without permission. Riki glanced down at her and smiled.
    “You may call me anything you wish. You can call me Riki-kun, if I can call you Ume-chan.” He teased, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue.
    Ame blinked. “Ume? Why Ume?” she questioned. Riki laughed. The sound was pure, and echoed in the empty air.
    “You seem more like a ‘plum’ than ‘rain’ to me.” He replied, glancing up at the street again.
    “So…R-Riki-kun?” Ame asked. His head lowered to her again. “How old are you?”
    “Sixteen.” Was her reply. Ame’s heart sank. Sixteen. He wouldn’t want to bother hanging around with her that much.
    “And you?” She was asked. Ame wondered if she should lie. She felt so young right now.
    “T-twelve…” She answered truthfully, looking down at her hands. “But I’ll be thirteen next month!” Riki laughed again. She glanced back up at him.
    “I only turned sixteen two months ago myself.” Ame brightened slightly. That wasn’t too bad.
    “What school do you go to?” He asked next, turning another corner.
    “Namikiri Middle School.” Ame replied, her shyness seemingly gone. Riki’s eyes brightened, and he glanced excitedly down at her.
    “I’m at Namikiri High School.” He told her, “Will you be going there next year, with your friends?” Ame was overjoyed.
    “I was planning on it.” Ame bluffed. Her friends and her had planned on going to an expensive boarding school awhile away from home. But if Riki was going to Namikiri High, so was she, if she had to make new friends there or not.
    Riki grinned widely.
    “I guess I’ll see you then.” Ame blinked in surprise.
    “See you then?” She questioned. Was he going to leave her somewhere? Riki looked up. “We’re at your house right?” Ame glanced up startled. She was at her house. She hadn’t noticed her surroundings because she had been too absorbed in her conversation with Riki.
    Her house was huge and white. A sprawling lawn with delicate white roses illuminated by floodlights could be seen through the thick iron bars of the gate. Riki carried her to the wrought iron, where she reached over Riki’s arm and rang the doorbell.
    “Yes? Who is it?” A voice was heard through the speaker.
    “Fumio-chan! It’s me. You have to open the gate. I can’t get in. I have a guest as well.”
    “Ah! Yes, Young Mistress! Right away!” Ame glanced at Riki.
    “Can you stay for tea?” she asked. Riki shook his head.
    “I really should be going home.” Ame’s face fell. Riki corrected himself quickly.
    “Well… a guess I could stay for one cup of tea. And to see how your knee is.” Ame remembered her knee just in time to notice blood soaking through Riki’s scarf.
    “Oh no!” Ame cried as Fumio opened the gates, “I’ve ruined your scarf!” Fumio noticed Ame’s knee.
    “Young Mistress!” She cried, her eyes widening, “You’re injured!” Fumio guided Riki quickly through the gates and into the house. After He had taken of his shoes, and Fumio had removed Ame’s, they winded through hallways and up stairways until they reached a door.
    “My room.” Ame informed Riki. Fumio opened the door to show a lavender painted room with pure white and lavender everything. Oversized lacy white pillows on a huge silver canopy bed with filmy lavender fabric billowing everywhere. A blustery wind was blowing in from a set of intricate French doors that led out onto a spacious veranda cluttered with painting supplies. A half-finished painting of the scenery outside was the work-in-progress on an easel.
    Fumio guided Riki to a fancy desk chair in the corner of the room, where he set Ame down. Fumio took both their coats, leaving Ame to blush furiously at Riki’s tightly fitted black long-sleeved sweater. Ame immediately missed the warmth of Riki’s arms when another sharp gust of wind hit her. Fumio, noticing her shiver, hurried to close the veranda doors.
    “Tea please, Fumio-chan?” Ame asked. The young maid bustled off to prepare tea.
    Soon after, the family doctor entered the room, and set about checking Ame’s knee, laying Riki’s scarf to the side, where it slipped off the table without anyone noticing.
    “You’ll need to have stitches.” He told Ame, after removing a bit of dirt and gravel from her knee. “The wound is quite deep.” Ame nodded, and winced as he administered a shot of painkillers. Riki offered his hand to Ame as the doctor began to sew, and she took it gratefully and squeezed slightly.
    The doctor finished wrapping Ame’s knee in clean bandages as Fumio returned with a silver tea tray. The doctor packed up, as Fumio laid out the tea things on an ornate, glass topped table. Riki transferred Ame carefully from the chair to a short stool beside the small table, propping her leg with a few pillows snitched from her bed.
    “Stay and talk with us.” Ame requested of Fumio, blinking tiredness from her eyes. After a bit of conversation, the sedatives were making Ame sleepy. She felt oddly separated from Riki and Fumio, as if a thin, filmy wall was between them. Ame’s eyelids fluttered slightly as she sipped her tea.
    “Ame?” Riki questioned.
    “Hmm?” She responded fuzzily, glancing at him with half closed eyes. She realized that she hadn’t answered his question.
    “My knee feels fine…” she tried to tell him, but it came out as a sigh.
    “Are you alright?” Riki asked, concern in his voice. Fumio shushed him, and took Ame’s teacup carefully from her right before she slumped down onto the floor.
    “She’s fine.” Ame heard faintly, Fumio’s voice sounding far away, “She’s not too good with antibiotics and sedatives. Young Mistress usually has to sleep them off.” It was the oddest sensation to be floating contentedly in the darkness while hearing someone talk about you. Ame felt herself being swooped up by Riki’s strong arms again, and being transferred under the covers of her large bed, the pillows being arranged to keep the heavy blankets off her knee. She faintly heard him turn to leave.
    “Don’t go.” She heard herself say, and felt the fabric of Riki’s shirt between her fingers. “Stay until I fall asleep…please…” Ame whispered, knowing that she wouldn’t see Riki again for a long while. She had only known him for a short time, yet she felt like he knew her better than anyone.
    “I’ll stay.” She heard Riki say, as unconscious lapped in her head once again. Riki transferred her hand from his shirt to his own warm hand.
    “Sweet dreams.” He told her, kissing her hand lightly.
    Sleep took her then, leaving her to her blissfully happy dreams.