how to love . ootori

i.

It was a spring day, she thought.

Or, well, she couldn't remember. She was sure the calendar date for spring had passed long before, but the wind had been bitingly cold, the snow had only just begun to melt, and the cherry blossoms weren't even in early bloom.

The girl couldn't tell if it was late winter or early, early spring, so she chalked it up to both.

Nagako hadn't known him before that day- the one in late winter, early spring- but it felt like she recognized him from somewhere.

With the way his expression soured, he definitely seemed to know her.

Kyoya Ootori's entire stature was familiar, somehow— from the way he stood, dignified, to the way his voice carried itself in that high-and-mighty tone of his. And he was handsome; the kind of handsome that stayed with a person. His pools of black hair framed his face perfectly. Even as his glasses brought forth a harsh glare, she could distinctly see the dark color of his eyes. It was simple detail, but he was nothing short of art.

He loomed above her 5'4 visage, nothing but foreboding, and adjusted the cuff links on his uniform as they held eye contact; something Nagako found rather intimidating. The boy exuded grace and haughtiness, which wasn't anything new to her- the students were like this every day, when they looked at her with a childish curiosity that only someone like them could muster up.

The fact that he confronted her was something new, but the real question pestering her was: where had she seen him before?

"You don't go here." He said simply and knowingly, as Nagako gripped the dainty handle of her flute case just a bit tighter than before. Of course she didn't go there, could it have been any more obvious?

"I have a sister." She lied, bowing respectfully towards him, if only to hide the guilty expression smeared on her face. "Farutani Mei, you probably know her."

The truth is, she had no inkling of a clue whether he knew her or not. Sure, her and Mei were friends, but Nagako didn't even have a clue what Mei's father did to earn what he did-- they were nowhere close to family, much less siblings.

"What makes you think I'd know her?" he asked, despite the fact that he definitely did. Farutani Mei was an exceptionally dignified and striking girl that he had met on multiple occasions, and Kyoya could admit, with well concealed distaste, that she was considered a crucial marriage candidate by his father. "To my knowledge, you and I have never met."

"Everyone knows everyone here." She explained, and he knew it was right. "We'll consider this an official introduction," Nagako extended her hand, finally freeing herself from the painfully awkward bow she hadn't registered she was in. "Farutani Nagako."

She expected him to shake her hand, as any sensible person would've done. Because, well, he emanated sensible. Instead, perhaps to embarrass her, Kyoya angled his head down and guided her hand to his lips. For a second, she had know clue what he was doing. His mouth, perched in a mocking smirk, ghosted over her pale knuckles before they were released from his grasp.

Shamefully, Nagako's skin prickled with goosebumps whenever he spoke. "Ootori Kyoya. Allow me to show you to your sister."

She knew him now, at least by name.

"That was unnecessary." The girl grumbled and scrubbed at her hand with the handkerchief she more often than not kept handy. She should have left right then; to save herself the trouble that went along with him. But there was a mission Nagako was on, and that mission didn't include letting a snobbish boy influence her decision making skills.