She (TakashiMorinozukaxOC)

Chapter 21: The House by the Sea

They had coffee and breakfast together that morning. Jenni, sitting happily with her cup in her hands, hummed a little tune so silent that if one weren't listening they'd doubt that she was making any sound at all. Between talking with Satoshi and humming her song, Jenni seemed her normal self again. After that text message a week before, she was back to training every day in her usual attitude and she was back to making jokes with everyone. 

Halloween was coming up, and according to Jenni, it was one of her favorite holidays. That, and an American holiday she called Thanksgiving. Apparently, it was the only time of year she got to see her full family, and that made her feel happy. 

Jenni's life had been small, quite literally. 

He knew this for a fact, because Jenni had been consequently transferred to his English Poetry class. The school had apparently messed up her credits; her karate club credit and participation in the school tournament's had tripled her P.E. credits and set her up indefinitely. She needed to choose a class, so she selected the first English class she could find for an easy passing mark. 

But now she was catching up on all the work. Mostly essays and reflections on poetry and it's historical contents, but the other week she had to present a poem they had been assigned a week prior. 

"I didn't realize we had to present them in class," she protested. 

Mrs. Ito shook her head, "You do, Ms. Styles, now if you would please," she gestured for her to stand. Jenni did so, rubbing out the non-existent wrinkles in her black and white plaid skirt. She cleared her throat before she began. 

"By the sea, there lived a man

Happy and kind was he, 

When he spoke words of kindness

he spoke them to me. 

There's a house in the field

far from the sea

four walls

two rooms

And nowhere to be.

By the sea, there stood a house,

once lived in so carelessly. 

Now it stands breaking,

the man nowhere to be seen." 

She had been asked to stay after class. 

He was still searching for his madrigal poem-- a thing so old and ridiculous it alluded even him, the residential history buff. 

"You really can't find one? It was popular for so long, there has to be at least one that speaks to you." 

She stood in the doorway to his room that day after classes and dojo. Her gi still on, she crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly. 

"Are you worried about presenting your favorite lines from it?" she asked. 

He could've asked her the same about her presentation a week before. 

"I don't understand iambic pentameter." 

"Well," she approached at last from the doorway. "It's speaking the words like a heart beat, kinda," she placed her hand to her chest and pronounced, "Boom, buh-boom, buh-boom. Short, followed by long syllables." She leaned against his desk where he sat, facing him with her back to the window.

A piece of hair escaped her ponytail and draped down near her necklaces. They bounced when she  tapped her chest lightly, indicating a heartbeat. Without thinking, he reached out to the hair and tucked it behind her ear. She paused, licking her lip anxiously. For a second, they locked eyes, and she remembered that spark of blue she had seen in them a while ago. She had almost forgotten them.