The World Sparkles with You in It

An Akagami no Shirayukihime (Snow White with the Red Hair) Fanfic

It was her fault really. She should have been watching where she was going, but after a night of listening to another of her upstairs neighbors' ill-timed arguments and a twelve-hour shift in the hospital, Shirayuki was beginning to lose track of what was real and what was not, and the only coherent thought she could form as she made her way to her apartment was Sleep.

She reached her floor and felt in her purse for the keys. They weren’t in their usual pocket, but she knew she hadn’t left without them.

One pouch, another, the little hidden flap tucked inside a larger pocket, nothing. She stifled a sigh as she realized they must have fallen into the catch-all body of the purse and sunk down beneath every bit of debris she had accumulated over the past–weeks? months? When had she cleaned out her purse last?

“I’ll just toss the rest of this out then, unless you want to keep some, Kiki?”

She hadn’t noticed the open door of the vacant apartment beside hers, and the jovial voice made her jerk upright just in time to run into a pair of shoes and a very large plastic bucket.

Shirayuki had heard of throwing a bucket of cold water on someone to wake them up. She had never considered using a bucket of glitter the same way, but she was absolutely awake now.

The same voice she had heard earlier cursed, then said, “I’m so sorry.”

She should argue. Apologize herself. Assure the man it didn’t matter. Instead she coughed out glitter.

She blinked a couple of times, and she could vaguely make out amber eyes and dark hair through the blue flecks stuck to her eyelashes. She realized the man must have leaned rather close. “Are you okay?” She nodded and wished she could speak, but her tongue still felt tacky with glitter.

“Obi, I thought you were throwing away the rest of the–oh. Oh my.”

Shirayuki turned to the new voice–female this time–but accidentally knocked more glitter into her eyes and only made out a silhouette this time. She reached up to rub her eyes, before realizing her hands were probably covered too.

She felt, more than saw, the man–Obi, was it?–step forward, then freeze and step back again. “Don’t touch your eyes! I can, uh, get you a rag. Kiki, did we bring the rags?”

“They’re in the kitchen. Make sure you get it wet.” Between one blink and the next, he disappeared. “Sorry about that,” the woman continued to Shirayuki. “Our friend is moving in tomorrow, and we were trying to prank him. We should have been more careful.”

Shirayuki shook her head and cleared her throat before trying to speak. “It’s–it’s not your fault. I–” She broke off into a coughing fit, and the woman patted her shoulder.

“Don’t try to speak just yet. I’m Kiki by the way.” She must have stepped closer, because Shirayuki felt her hand against her forehead, shielding her eyes, and then she began to brush the glitter out of Shirayuki’s hair.

“So, Miss Shirayuki,” Kiki paused the brushing and tapped her name tag to indicate where she had learned the name, “you work at the hospital? I imagine this must have been a very long day.” Shirayuki gave a small smile and shrug, and Kiki chuckled. “And now this idiot had to go and make it longer.”

Shirayuki shook her head and cleared her throat. “My–fault–” she choked, then started coughing again.

“No, no. Let him take the blame. Better for his ego anyway.”

“Here.” Something wet squelched into her hand, and she flinched, until she realized it was the promised rag, and Obi was now filling her field of vision. Apparently she couldn’t see much at all.

“Do you want some help?” Kiki asked. She shook her head, then closed her eyes and swiped it down her face a few times until she could blink more freely.

She cleared her throat and pointed to her apartment. “I should–” she clapped her mouth shut before she could start coughing again.

“Of course. Let us know if you need anything,” Kiki said before grabbing Obi’s arm and dragging him back into the other apartment.

Shirayuki found her keys, opened her door, and leaned against the entryway wall, sighing as she realized how long of a shower she would need.

The next morning was her day off, and she woke late to glitter-filled sheets. She would need to wash those later.

She took another shower and ate breakfast, then spent an hour combing as much glitter as she could off her scalp. She hadn’t spent this much time on her hair in years.

When she was satisfied that she looked mostly normal and not like someone who had stayed up too late at some sort of crazy party, she grabbed her shoes and purse, and headed out.

“Hi! You must be Shirayuki!”

The door locked, and she whirled around to find a man with his arms full of boxes carefully labeled in thick block letters. He set the boxes down, then straightened up and held out his hand to shake hers.

He was tall, frighteningly so, but he smiled, and it gave the impression of a very large teddy bear. She couldn’t help but grin back.

“I’m Mitsuhide, your new neighbor.”

She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you! I’m–well, you seem to already know my name.”

His smile turned apologetic. “I heard my friends made quite the impression yesterday.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem!” His gaze flickered up to her hair, and she realized she must not have been quite so careful as she thought.

“Mitsuhide, where do you want the bookshelf?” She recognized the voice, if not the person who came out of the apartment and draped himself over Mitsuhide’s shoulder. “Kiki said living room, but I thought–” Both voice and movements, languid and graceful like a cat’s, broke off as he spotted her, and his posture went rigid.

He was . . . surprisingly cute when not seen through a haze of blue glitter. Striking amber eyes and elegantly long limbs. His ruffled hair and half-buttoned overshirt suggested a certain devil-may-care attitude that was completely contradicted by his nervous smile and hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, hi, Miss.”

Mitsuhide slipped out from under Obi’s arm and picked his boxes back up. “I’ll go help Kiki with the shelf.”

Obi’s eyes grew comically large. “Wait, Mitsuhide–”

“You said you wanted to talk to her, so talk.”

Obi stared after him, blinking quickly, then glanced back at Shirayuki. “Uhhh . . .”

“You . . . wanted to talk to me?” she asked, shifting her bag on her shoulder.

“Uh, yeah! I wanted to say again I’m sorry, and ask how I can make it up to you.”

“Oh, no, really, there’s no reason for that. I should have been paying more attention, but I was just tired.”

“Well in that case, I just made your day worse when you were already tired, so I should definitely make it up to you.”

“But you really don’t have to.”

“Please let me do something to apologize.”

“Let him take you out for dinner!” Kiki called from the apartment.

“Yes! Wait. What?” Obi whirled around and glared thought he open door. “Kiki, that’s not what I–”

“Take her something nice that’s not super spicy.”

Mitsuhide peeked out into the hallway. “Yeah, I mean, you pretty much ruined her day. The least you could do is buy her something to eat.” He winked at Shirayuki over Obi’s shoulder, then elbowed him hard in the back, knocking him off-balance, before ducking back into the apartment.

Obi stumbled forward to compensate and shot a glare over his shoulder. Shirayuki tried to step back to give him some space, but her back hit the wall. Hard.

At the sound, Obi turned back around and . . . and he was very close. His eyes widened, and she could see his Adam’s apple bob as he gulped. Then his eyes strayed just above her own, and he leaned closer.

Shirayuki pressed against the wall and fisted her hands in her skirt as his hand came up to brush her bangs from her forehead. His calluses brushed against her skin, and she wondered hazily what he did to get them.

He pinched a lock of her hair between his fingers, and really he was far too close now, and she should tell him to step away, but–

It felt nice. The warmth of his hand against her face, his gentle gaze, the way he stood over her and made her feel . . . shielded somehow. Without her consent, her eyes dropped to his lips.

What are you doing?

He jerked back, and she realized she had spoken aloud. She hadn’t meant the words for him, but at least he wasn’t so close anymore and that was probably good. Probably.

At least he hadn’t seemed to notice her . . . distraction. Blood rushed to her face. What had she been thinking? She barely knew him!

Obi stared blankly down at his hand. “You–you had something in your hair . . . . Glitter. It’s more glitter.” His head shot up. “My hand just moved on it’s own . . . I–I’m sorry.”

Someone cleared their throat, and Shirayuki and Obi both glanced over to where Kiki was leaning against the doorframe.

“Just go to dinner with him, and maybe he’ll finally stop talking about this,” she said, and Obi shot her a look.

He had been talking about her? A lot?

“Yes,” Shirayuki squeaked.

Obi’s head jerked toward her fast enough to give him whiplash. “What?”

She ducked her hair behind her ears. “I, um, I can go to dinner with you. I mean, if you really want to–”

“Yes.”

Her eyes widened at his abruptness, and she slid her hand up and down the purse strap. “Um, ok. When should we meet?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Would tomorrow night work?”

“I have work tomorrow, but the next day?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Six?”

“Okay.”

He grinned, and oh, there was the heartbreaker she had expected, right there in the sly upturn of one corner of his lips. She had barely survived his awkward, accidental flirting. What was she supposed to do with this?

“It’s a date.” Then he winked.

Oh, he would be the death of her.