Disclaimer: I do not own La Corda d'Oro. Yeah.

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Blank.

Her mind was empty; a barren expanse. All thoughts had left her head. No emotion, no feeling. An untouched slate. Numb.

His outstretched hand held her book. And she needed to take it. But her hand couldn't move, and her hazel eyes were firmly gazing into his deep blues.

"You dropped your book, Fuyuumi-chan," he said quietly, somewhat in a daze. A strand of blond hair fell into his face, and his eyes seemed to deepen in colour. Her face gained a bit of colour, too.

Her palm twitched, and she blinked as it heaved upward, painfully slow. It touched the book cover, grasping it. The boy's hand released, falling gracefully to his side.

"Go... Gomen nasai!" she muttered in thanks, pulling the book to her chest as her eyes fell to the ground. It must have been impossible for him to hear her voice over those of the other sudents that populated the halls.

"Nn," he grunted sleepily, dazed. He turned to walk away, and though her gaze was firm to the ground, Fuyuumi couldn't help but take a glimpse of his cream blazer become lost in the throng.

"...Shimizu-kun." Softly, wrapping his name around her lips. "Th-Thank you."

She stood alone in the middle of a hallway with a book pressed to her chest. Her face was flushed with embarrassment, and soon she would be tardy for her next class. But she was overjoyed.

He was beautiful; a femanine term, but it suited him inhumanly well. Quiet and collected, criptic. Lovely. It was no wonder the boy always had a group of admirers tagging around after him, snapping photos of him as he peacefully slept, just to ask their peers if they had ever seen a more angelic face. Keiichi Shimizu-kun.

Poetic. Such a word descibed what mastery he possessed as a cellist. Warmth flooded whoever was fortunate enough to hear such music. She had witnessed him playing before. And she always smiled at such a memory as that.

And this boy... He had spoken to her. Aided her. She faintly grinned, running her finger over her near-burning face.

She'd talk to him again; she'd find a way to gain the confidence to do so. And maybe he'd smile upon what she has to say.

And she would do this.

Tomorrow.

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AN: Nn... Such a short one-shot! Eheh...