VIOLET SKY, takigawa chris yuu

━ chapter one

act i

this shouldn't be happening.
( oh but it is. )

chapter one

❛my reputation isn't exactly squeaky clean❜

━━━━━━

It's hard to be quiet when Amara de la Garza has a group of middle schoolers clambering behind her.

But she tries.

They follow her obediently down the concrete pathway that snakes through Airi Park, chittering amongst themselves.

They usually aren't doing this. By now, the kids should be knee-deep in a game and probably trash-talking each other (and she has to mediate, even if she tells them to keep it nice). But upon arrival at their regular spot, she found them huddled under a tree, pouting; a look to the left showed her the orange tape marking off the clearing, the people in neon green and orange vests with their hard hats, and the messy, arrangements of piles of dirt and grass.

A pipe repair, one of the construction workers said. And Amara knew that it'd be a while before they got their old spot back again.

Now, they're hot on her heels as she tries to find an area that's open enough for them to play but also a reasonable distance away from the street, lest they accidentally kick the ball too far and hit a car — or worse, a person.

She takes her time. No one is occupying much of the park because it's still cool.

She should be training and practicing, ideally, with the team back at Machida, but they've been working relentlessly since winter and she thinks she deserves a break — especially since this is the one week without school or practice that she's getting before her third year starts.

She slowly comes to a halt, seeing the open clearing of grass first, then the occupied bench in front of it next.

A guy sits there and his head is slightly tilted toward the sky, though she can't imagine he's getting any sufficient sunlight because the tree next to the bench makes it spotty. But he's broad-shouldered, with light brown skin showing on the nape of his neck, chestnut brown hair curling loosely there.

There's courtesies, she thinks as she takes a step forward, especially here, when it's quiet and the hustle and bustle of deep city dwelling is more or less muted; a homely neighborhood where everyone knows everyone and she, a guest, isn't going to disturb the peace if she can help it.

But the ringleader of the group, a third year girl named Inaba, teeters forward so that her shoulder brushes Amara's. "Senpai —?"

Amara sighs ruefully. "Yeah, alright, hold on and settle down."

She steps off the path and the grass sinks under her shoes. It's been surprisingly rainy but they're still in an odd transition of winter and spring.

The kids hang back like they've been told and keep their voices low. Good.

If Inaba is the ringleader amongst her peers, then Amara is the leader of their little group in its entirety. It's for a multitude of reasons but the main ones being that she is older, wiser, and unfortunately, entering her last year of high school.

Her experience awes them, often, despite the fact that she's only been playing since the tail end of first year and the beginning of second. It's a surprising amount of pressure to have a gaggle of fourteen and fifteen-year-olds watching your every move and mimicking it because they think it's right.