Welcome to my first ever fanfic! This is +Anima (obviously), so there will be some wildness and action, but it's mostly going to revolve around romance and friendship. Namely Husky/Nana romance and some Senri/Rose fluff. There will also be a smidgen of Cooro/OC, but that will be very muted, as I don't like to taint my stories too much with OCs, as they make things boring and tend to make the other characters go OOC. So I hope you enjoy this fan series. I'm also guessing that Pinion is 11.
One final note: this takes place in the far future. Husky is 16, Nana is 15, Cooro is nearly 17, Senri is 22, Rose is 21. This is all assuming that Husky, Nana and Cooro are around 12 or 13 at the beginning of the series. Pleas forgive me for any aging mistakes.
What the hell is wrong with me today? Whenever Nana comes close, I start shivering. Is my girl hatred getting to my nerve system or something? I knew it was mental, but I had no idea it would affect me physically. This really blows. For my own health, I should avoid her at all costs for awhile.
Or so thought Husky at 8 AM that morning as his and Nana's hands collided while grabbing from the food sack. They both quickly withdrew as if lightning had struck, and Husky gave up on breakfast and turned away. Nana watched him retreat with hurt in her eyes. Husky usually at least told her to 'Be more careful' and 'Stop being so grabby'. Was something wrong? But her thoughts were interrupted when Cooro reached straight past her and grabbed the last dinner roll from the sack, immediately stuffing it in his mouth with all the grace and dignity of a 3-year-old eating their first semi-solid food. Nana frowned, but was too vexed to complain.
Husky retreated to the edge of the stand of trees they were camping in. He had no desire to hang around with everyone else. They would probably crack more jokes about how feminine he looked and how good he would look in a skirt, even though his shoulders had widened and his facial features weren't nearly as feminine as before. Cooro was still the ringleader. Recently, though, Nana had stopped laughing at the jokes. Maybe it was because they were getting old? Probably. But Husky guessed that the moment fresher jokes could be cracked at him, Nana would start her crusade again.
Leaning himself as comfortably as possible against a gnarled and knotted old oak tree, he dozed off into a half-sleep.
Nana eyed him from across the clearing. It had been a long time since she'd given up on Senri. She had confessed; Senri had calmly rejected, and she eventually recovered her composure. But she was feeling more and more drawn towards Husky as the days and months, even years, went on. She now treasured the necklace he'd given her more than any other item she owned. But she knew, as a gut feeling in her heart, that Husky would never accept her. He hated girls, right? So why would he love a girl? It was a ridiculous thought, but even then, Nana had her hopes, and her daydreams provided her with another escape from her harsh reality.
But all she could do now was stare across that clearing and wish fervently that she were invisible, so that she could sit beside Husky without being seen or judged.
Cooro didn't have much on his mind after his breakfast. Not that much ever filled his brain anyways. Unless there were other people for him to worry about or hunger to fix, his head was empty. So he sat next to Senri, babbling whatever his subconscious put in his mouth.
"Today I saw a butterfly. Have you ever seen a butterfly anima? I haven't ever seen a butterfly anima. Speaking of butterfly animas, weren't those dinner rolls great? I really liked them. But you know what's weird? Nana and Husky are acting weird. Do you know why, Senri? I think it's because Nana likes Husky and Husky likes Nana, but doesn't know it yet and …"
Cooro trailed on for awhile, but Senri had tuned him out, and Husky and Nana couldn't hear him. It was a pity, because Cooro had just said many things that would ring true in the near future.
Senri's thoughts were focused on only one thing right now: Rose. This was mainly because he was staring right at her flower in his book. He was pondering why his heart was increasing every time he flipped to this page. Maybe he was mistaken. Maybe his heart didn't really quicken. Maybe he was just feeling things.
All their individual thoughts dissipated as a ear-shattering screech vibrated through their clearing. All tensed, waiting for a revelation: who or what was making this noise? And what was wrong?