𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 ‧ kiyoko

𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀 | 002

And while most people's 'book of life' or whatever only had a few words or phrases thickened black for emphasis that serve as small spurts of bravery in their otherwise calming life, (Y/N)'s book was all in bold except for a few very specific words, said words being the times in which she was not as resolute.

(Y/N) (L/N) was not bold when it came to Kiyoko Shimizu.

Kiyoko was without a doubt the most popular person at school, attracting the attention of both boys and girls like flies. She had them falling at her feet as she passed, had them fainting and swooning at the sheer sight of her.

And (Y/N) couldn't blame them. How could she when, at the end of the day, she was the exact same.

Her heart burst when the wisps of black hair fluttered past, so dark they almost looked blue. Her breath hitched when light grey eyes, eyes that looked like a calm rainy day, flitted past her. The world seems a little less raging when her delicate voice, almost like crystal, spoke up during English literature.

It was her absolute favourite class. Not just because of the subject, although she did adore it with every fibre of her being, but because the girl she had come to admire sat right across from her.

(Y/N) loved not too many things. She loved the stars, space and anything to do with the celestial bodies that reside outside of the atmosphere, beyond her reach, and she loved Greek Mythology and Shakespeare, though said fondness originated from the names they assign to planets and moons and the stories behind their naming. Though those may not quite add up to the way she felt like she was truly on cloud nine when she watched the peaceful, yet concentrated, look that washed over Kiyoko's beautiful face when she read.

A Midsummer Night's Dream was held open against her desk today.

They shared interests.

It was more than distracting for (Y/N) to be within such close proximity of the goddess herself, but she was able to afford the lost class time. After all, it wasn't like she would be finishing the course.

The bell rang, pulling her away from her thoughts of admiration.

"Alright, class, that's it for today. Make sure you hand in your stories for the contest as you walk out the door," The teacher smiled, watching as students began to pool out of the classroom. They all dropped their papers on the polished wooden desk, chattering among themselves like birds.

(Y/N) was a little more lethargic, not exactly able to rush out into the crowded hallways like the others. She gave her teacher a lazy grin as she passed them the ink-filled paper she had spent hours on the previous night.

They raised a brow at her, "You shouldn't have to push yourself like this, (Y/N), you know that,"

She shrugged, already bored at the many people who had told her to take it easy. If she was dying, then she'd rather live her last days as she pleased. "Writing's good for me, sensei. Plus, you know I can't pass up the opportunity to whip up a greek myth," Her words were slow, eyes apathetic.

Her professor sat on the squeaky chair, taking the paper she held out to them, "Of course. I expect my best student to win," They shot her an encouraging look, but she saw the pity that was held in their eyes.

That morning in homeroom, (Y/N) had had her paper stolen by her best friends, both coincidentally part of the volleyball team that dear Kiyoko managed.

Sugawara Koushi and Sawamura Daichi. Two absolute idiots whom she loved with all her heart.

Though as they snatched the paper from her folder, she wished to punch them more than anything. She hated it when people read her work in front of her. Her brain couldn't work out the little expressions they made, so she has no idea what they were thinking. It was frustrating, not being able to just... think, make small things out.