Would he remember? The president of the student council—a great seat of authority for one to be bestowed upon with; Sohma Yuki. Timid Machi pondered upon this question within her head, anxiously wondering if the president would keep his promise he had said to her a few weeks ago. "Listen. If the snow keeps piling up…we can…make footprints in it together, all right? I promise."
That was the only promise anyone had ever sincerely made to Machi, or at least of what she could remember. And he said it with such a warm smile that Machi could not help but feel a warm breath seep itself into her. She was always introverted and kept to herself, rarely ever speaking, but this is the first time that she ever wanted to be with another. She hoped with small optimism that the snow would pile up again…blanketing the world in its pure grasp. She wanted to make footprints in the snow with the president…with Yuki. More than anything. The most selfish desire that was ever contrived from within herself, but Machi was never selfish and greedily asked for things of her own. Yes…she only wanted this one thing now: that was all.
The blaring sound of an alarm clock rang loudly through the air. Beeps following after one another in a perfect synchronized pattern. An annoyed first suddenly slammed down onto the clock as it's ringing abruptly stopped. The hand moved again, rubbing sleep out of bleary eyes, as the eyes closed slowly again, but then opened in an inexorable manner. The clock read as 5:25 P.M., as Machi, for that is who it was, jumped up quickly from her sleeping position and hurriedly threw on a warm coat and a pair of boots and then slipped out of the door, grabbing an unseen envelope in the process. She jammed the envelope under her arm, seemingly in a rush as the door slammed shut defiantly behind her. She made her way down the cement paved sidewalk as a blistering wind drifted past her. However, Machi appeared to not notice it as she was so intently fixated on a particular matter. She gripped the envelope she was carrying in her hands together, clumsily not paying attention to her surroundings. That clumsiness cost her as her foot slipped on a hidden crack in the cement as she fell forward on her hands and knees; jilted by the sudden earthly encounter. The contents inside of the envelope captured the sidewalk with its fluttering of many papers. Machi's hands flew in a panicked reaction as she snatched all of the windblown papers one by one, fearing that the wind's current would carry them all far, far away. But just as her nimble fingers grasped the last of the papers, she noticed now that one pair of feet stood in front of her. Her eyes steadily ascended upwards in inquire, but her gaze seemed to deceive her, she thought. For standing now in front of her was that person known to her as "president." It was none other than Sohma Yuki. Machi felt taken aback at his sudden—most unexpected—appearance, as she hurriedly stood up, looking down without even glancing up once. She crammed the papers back into the envelope with much forced conviction as Yuki seemed to tilt his head slightly at her flustering behavior.
"Machi…?" He said slowly, impressioning a question. "What're you doing out this late?"
"It's not that late—!" Snapped Machi, still not meeting his eyes with her own.
"Oh, I guess you're right." A small chuckle escaped from him as Machi still only stood there silently, fingering the fringe of the papers nervously. Yuki did not seem to notice her nervousness, anyhow.
"Were you mailing something?" He asked, making a notation of her sloppily-crammed papers that slightly stuck out of the top of the large envelope.
"Y-Yes." Machi stammered. "But the post office is probably already closed by now…" She scuffled her feet around in a timid motion. She turned her back on Yuki, her long dark hair whip lashing behind her. Her obvious shyness may come off as rudeness to most people, but it did not to Yuki, as he knew with full knowledge that this was only natural of Machi to act in such a way.
"Well, I guess you're going home, then?" Yuki asked wistfully. "What're those papers for anyway?"
"N-Nothing in particular!" Machi exclaimed in a fluster.
"Right." Smiled Yuki. "Sorry for asking."
"It's fine." She took a few steps forward, in indication of her departure. "Well, goodbye."
Hearing the president call her name after her, she insistently stopped abruptly, inkling to keep her pace of moving forward. Her back stiffened.
"Tomorrow the snow should be piled up…so—"
"Eh? Snow?" Machi blankly conferred as she glanced up at the bleak dreariness of the winter sky. White flakes painted its dull color, blending in many flurries, falling softly to the earth in seemingly perfect unison.
"Oh? You didn't notice the snow?" Yuki remarked in an amused antic.
"No…" Machi succumbed to her embarrassed cluelessness, perhaps too distracted earlier by many hasty events to take note of the descending snow.
"So, tomorrow," Yuki began saying once more slowly. "I promised when the snow piled up that we'd make footprints in it together, right? Well…" he paused as his brow furrowed with his narrowing eyes that looked up at the horizon of the setting sun. "Well the snow should be piled up by tomorrow morning…" His voice trailed off as he now glanced back to Machi, whom he quite expected to know of the point that he was concluding.
"You'd keep that promise, president?" Machi asked quietly as she turned her back around; facing him now.
"Of course." Yuki answered in such a short split second, with a kind smile, that Machi knew from the start of the question's futile attempt of asking. Yes…of course he wouldn't forget.
"A-All right." Machi stuttered, her flushed face marring red with the pure snow.
"Ah…well…tomorrow morning," Yuki seemed to be calculating in thought. "You probably still have to mail those papers, right? Well, then, tomorrow morning, we'll meet at the post office, okay?"
"T-That wouldn't be a bother? I-I mean—! You don't have anything to…do…I wouldn't be inconveniencing you…" Machi's voice became quieter at these meek suggestions enclosed within her speech.
"Not at all. It's Saturday tomorrow, anyway."
"See you tomorrow, then, Machi." The essence of a kind voice captured Yuki's tone, which vanquished inside of Machi any coldness along with a strange feeling to herself. She turned her back once more, as Yuki did likewise; their footprints marking the barely fallen snow unnoticeably. Machi felt some kind of relief elude itself upon her. But relief of what? Machi could not precisely discern.
The sky strewn dark already by the time Machi clambered back into her small one-room house; pangs of loneliness ceasing in its walls. A loneliness that was so rashly thrust upon Machi because of an unjust conclusion of assumption. Evidence of it seemed to obscure its folds into Machi's quiet demeanor. But Machi did not fall victim to that pallid loneliness tonight. No, after tonight…in the glossed glimmering morning, her loneliness would subside, if only for a little while. And the morning did come, upon accordance with the rising sun, as Machi arose vigorously, bashfully hiding the fact from herself that she was indeed anticipating the encounter between her and the president that would be occurring today. Machi's fingers flexed on the crumpled envelope that therein lied the letters. She hesitantly opened the door of her little home and briskly emerged outside. What appeared itself before her eyes in a dazzlingly purity, was that of a vast blanket of crystal-like snow encasing the world. Crystal-like, because yes—the beautiful snow seemed to glimmer most floridly in a pale color from the still early streaks of the brilliant morning sun. Machi opened her mouth in a requited awe as breath evaporated from her in and into the cold air. So the snow had, indeed, piled up. She also at the same time noted the placid icy wind of winter's breath drift past her in a haze. Machi fixated on the scene intently, and then began to make way down the snow covered path and into town.
It never occurred to Machi or even to Yuki (in the clueless aspect) that they never set a designated time of when they should meet. "He did say in the morning…" Machi recounted to herself as her footsteps heavily trudged in the depth of the cold snow. "Oh well. I'll just wait at the post office for awhile…but…" She gripped her coat tighter around her. "IT is really cold out today…"
In a short time, Machi finally found her way amidst the snow scene to the post office as she had successfully delivered her envelope. She decided that the most reasonable solution was to wait indoors for a bit until she caught sight of the president—and she did. Machi never understood why, though, in the end of why she waited for him for a two whole hours. Her mind deluded her bluntly from the fact that, she really was anxiously anticipating the encounter with Yuki more than she knew. And after those two hours, as Machi sighed a weary sigh of seemingly disappointment and discontent, her body made way out of the door and out of the warm post office and back outside to the sordidly icy world that had snowflakes as debris. But as she was doing just that, she unconsciously bumped into someone on her way as she was entangled within her muddling thoughts.
"Oh, sorry…excuse me." Machi stammered without looking up as she purged on her away once more. She suddenly felt though a hand catch her own warmly after (for she was not wearing any gloves) as she heard a most familiar voice say in that inquiring tone like yesterday before.
Machi turned back around as she could already guess who it was.
"O-Oh, president…" she stammered timidly.
"Were you on your way home?" Yuki asked. "Sorry. Did I make you wait long?"
Machi modestly shook her head.
"It occurred to me last night as I got home that we forgot to set a time." He smiled wryly. "I was going to call you, but I'm not sure what your number is…"
"It's fine." Machi said quietly. "You…came after all."
"I guess that's true. But…" He dolefully lowered his gaze. "I feel bad for making you wait. So—" He abruptly let go of her hand in that comforting grip as he turned it to the side of himself as he appeared to be rustling through a bag that Machi had not noticed. He produced a rectangle-like object out of the bag's contents, as Machi's eyes grew wide with wonderment.
"Here. You can have this." Yuki aimlessly placed the object into the palms of Machi's hands. "It was my cousin's—Kyo, you know? Anyway, I found it outside of his bedroom door last night and picked it up. I asked him if it was his but…" a tone of suspected annoyance crept into his speech. "But of course, he just hissed at me and told me to keep it, that it wasn't his. So I thought you might like it. Mogeta, right?"
Machi looked at the strange object of which the president had kindly given her, as it mused her of being that of a volume of manga in the popular "Mogeta" series.
"Do you…like it?" Yuki asked unsure.
Machi nodded reassuringly.
"B-But…" she held the book close to her. "Present is always giving me things. And I…" her voice faded gloomily; a bereavement expression obscuring her pallid face.
"Don't worry about it. I wasn't sure what to do with it—so I immediately thought of giving it you, Machi." A warm smile like always before brushed past his face. Machi looked at him for a moment as she scoffed reproachfully,
"I must seem like a kid for liking something such as Mogeta."
"Not at all."
His sudden reply with absolutely no hesitation, retracted into Machi surprised for a minute. She felt her face flush, blemishing in a rosy color as she smiled so very slightly—which, was unsure later if Yuki had even saw the smile.
"Thank you, president." Machi bowed stately.
Yuki chuckled. "It was nothing. Well, then." His eyes shifted to Machi, glinting, as she looked back up now. "Shall we go?"
"Y-Yes." Machi stammered. "I guess." Her hand grasped the Mogeta manga by her side with a great care as step by step a trail of newly fallen snow was marked now with two set of feet.
"Will he remember? Until the next time it snows? I wonder if…he'll walk with me. I wish it would snow. I wish it would pile up…
…that was the first time…I actually hoped for it."
I thought it was cute to make Kyo seem like a Mogeta fan. xD
Now does he really like it…?
Or did Kisa or Hiro leave it there?