Spring Heart Crying In a Cuckoo

Takato/Yuki story from Cool-B (September 2014)

This is a long, sexy story that is about Takato's calligraphy - on the surface, at least. But it's really about his desire for Yuki, and Yuki's innate understanding of his sometimes complicated way of thinking.

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Spring Heart Crying In a Cuckoo

"Takato-san. I want you to write the text on the banner to support the clubs participating at the inter-high. With a brush, so it's full of impact!" I began, having waited for the opportunity to be alone together in the student council room after school.

It had been a month since those days of turmoil. Summer break was right around the corner. Finals were over and we also had a pause in our student council duties. Takato-san didn't have a deadline coming up. Now was my chance.

At my words, Takato-san dropped his gaze, considering.

Takato-san was so good at calligraphy that it had gotten him admitted to the school, but he had quit because of a certain reason. He said he didn't feel like painting anymore, but I didn't think that he'd come to hate painting calligraphy itself. But still, it was kind of sad that he'd distanced himself from it.

"If it's to offer support, wouldn't it be better to ask the art club, or a student who specializes in design?

"I like your characters, Takato-san!"

Takato-san watched me closely as I struggled. I held his direct gaze that saw right through my feelings.

I loved Takato-san. I couldn't help loving Takato-san. I tried to convey my feelings.

He sighed and gave me a troubled smile, raising an eyebrow. Woohoo, that was a sign it was okay. But the tricky thing here was this guy.

"...May I stipulate a condition?"

"Please tell me anything."

"It's been a long time since I painted calligraphy, so I think I'd like to practice. Asahina, will you keep me company?"

"If I can be of help!"

I wondered why he needed me to practice calligraphy. A momentary doubt crossed my mind, but it didn't matter.

I nodded vigorously and the corner of Takato-san's mouth lifted slightly.


And so I came to Takato-san's room to help him practice. That was fine.

But... why? Why? Why was I lying face down, naked on the floor!?

"I think your body would give me the motivation to paint calligraphy."

Takato-san looked satisfied, seeing me like that. Wait, this was wrong!!

"Wouldn't it be easier to write on calligraphy paper than on me!?"

"Do you know how many years it's been since I've felt like holding a brush?"

I was at a loss. He'd been like this for a while. Takato-san answered like that every time I tried to object. He absolutely knew what he was doing so that I couldn't object.

"Does this really count as practice!?"

"It does."


"...Actually, I want an excuse. No matter how cute you are making the request, do you think it's easy to accept doing something I have estranged myself from so much?"


His low murmur was probably the truth. It was very like Takato-san to be unable to do something that had kept weighing on his mind for so long so easily, like nothing had ever happened. But wasn't bringing that up now unfair?

Besides, this seemed kind of perverted.... It was embarrassing being the only one in such a vulnerable condition, while Takato-san was wearing his full uniform so neatly. But even so, it was a fact that my heart raced at Takato-san's expression when he said he wanted an excuse.

"But you don't seem to like it. Then, let's quit."

"No! I don't want that! Don't stop...!" Oh. I was an idiot. It just slipped out....

"Thank you, Asahina."

Suddenly, Takato-san smiled. It was no fair. That gentle smile was playing dirty.

I sighed and relaxed my body. Oh well. As long as this made his reservations towards calligraphy disappear at least a little.


So Takato-san began his calligraphy practice, but like, after all, or something....


The wet brush touched my back and I made a weird sound at the cold, tickling sensation. My body shivered as I lay face down. The brushstrokes drawn with the clear water weren't visible at all, but they clearly left a sensation on my body.

This was calligraphy practice. He didn't have a weird intention. Probably.

As I tried to persuade myself and stay still, he steadily wrote characters on my back. I didn't know what he was writing, but there was no pause in the gliding, flowing brush that I had thought might stop and jump. The graceful movements were completely different from when I did things like kakizome. [info]

But this was bad.

Didn't these movements seem just Takato-san's movements at times like that? The movements of his fingers that traced my bare skin, as if memorizing my backbone, shoulder blades, and various muscles while holding me...

If I paid attention to it, the situation would really get out of control, so I spoke to Takato-san, trying to distract myself. "I wonder what we should write on the banner? Something like congratulations on qualifying for the inter-high...."

"Then, let's write that."

He wrote smoothly on my back and I ducked my head. It tickled. But that wasn't all. It kind of sent shudders through me and I nearly made a weird sound. I was just able to hold back, but I couldn't stop my body from getting hot.

But still, the brush was writing something on my back again. This time, I ended up moaning slightly. Even I was embarrassed by how strangely lewd it was. If he did anymore, I'd....

"T, Takato-san! After all, there's no point if you don't write it properly with ink, is there!? Not on my body..."

"No. I don't feel like painting calligraphy except on you."


Flat-out rejecting my words, he lowered the brush smoothly, following my spine, all the way down past my waist. Having a hunch where the soft brush tip was heading, I desperately closed my legs. The brush tip ran smoothly toward my hip bone as if to tease there.

"Then, it's okay to write on me, but... ngh."

No good. This was really bad! Wanting him to stop, my voice unconsciously cracked and Takato-san's brush stopped moving.

"May I?"

"Yeah. It's fine. Go ahead..."

Anyway, it was all fine, so I nodded and Takato-san suddenly lifted the brush.

He stopped... I was spared...

"Then, I accept your kind offer."

He lightly wiped my wet back with a handkerchief and stood up. At the same time, the heat that had risen in me subsided. But since I wasn't in a position to turn my body, still on my front, I lazily watched Takato-san grind ink against an inkstone.

The sound of the ink being ground and a cool, clear fragrance filled the quiet room. That smell refreshed my mind that had become delirious with heat.

Takato-san was seriousness itself as he sat formally, perfectly straight, with all his mind focused on the inkstone. His straight back and intelligent profile were very beautiful. So much so that it was hard to believe this was the man who had been doing weird things to my back just before.

"...Did you bring those supplies from home?"

"Yes. I just randomly grabbed some things from home. Since there's more than enough of this sort of thing there."

Though he said that, Takato-san's hand movements were very careful and delicate. He said 'randomly,' but I felt sure that wasn't true. Since he wasn't the kind of person who could do anything randomly. Because no matter what he did, he wanted to do everything properly. That's what made him incredible.

That must have been why he quit calligraphy, I suddenly realized. He couldn't devote himself to it with same passion as before, but he also couldn't do it half-heartedly. That must have been why he'd become completely unable to do calligraphy, I was sure.

I tried asking about it, but Takato-san didn't answer. Instead, he smiled, saying, "Thank you, Asahina."

"For what?"

"For being considerate of me."

"I'm not really being considerate. But... if you're sorry, maybe I can put my clothes back on," I tried asking jokingly, since his lowered gaze was painful to see. Takato-san grinned.

"That's not allowed."

"Why not?"

"I want you to allow me to indulge up to your limits."

With those words that I wasn't quite sure I understood, Takato-san set down the ink. He dipped the tip of the brush in the deep black ink he had ground. I suddenly felt like the atmosphere had changed. The tense mood made me nervous too.

Takato-san took a quiet breath, with a serious expression. A wet sensation moved down from the base of my neck, and then he wrote some character all at once. He wrote several characters, then the brush was lifted. At the same time, the tension in the air dissolved, and both of us let out a deep breath.

"What did you write...?"

Still lying down, I looked up and was answered, not with words, but with a kiss. He lightly caught my lower lip and sucked gently, making a shiver run through me.

"Asahina." He called my name in a low voice and his tongue slipped inside.

No matter how many times we kissed, I couldn't help being embarrassed at the very first moment. But it made me extremely excited. I swallowed saliva over and over with him licking around inside my mouth. My breathing sped up from the unnatural position and the kiss that kept me from escaping.

Then, he grabbed my shoulders and flipped me over. Takato-san sat straddling my naked abdomen.

"Well then... shall I write on here next?"

"Y, you're going to write more!?"

"Of course."

As he said that, he slid the tip of the brush across my nipple. The black ink shone lewdly on the reddened, hardened point. I nearly cried out at the movements that seemed uninterested in writing characters, and I gritted my teeth.

Takato-san's face was expressionless, but I knew. When he got like this, Takato-san had no absolutely no intention of quitting...!

Just before, we were having a touching moment and the mood had been nice, but maybe that was just my imagination. Or maybe I'd pushed some erotic switch somewhere? No way... was that Takato-san hiding his embarrassment!?

Even my swirling thoughts were scattered by the lewd movements of the brush.

The wet brush tip moved directly down from my belly button... and I stopped thinking.


"Do you know what this means?"

After that, things had gradually gone downhill, so in the end, I didn't learn what Takato-san had written on my back.

Since I didn't have a choice, I tried taking a pic with my phone in the mirror before I washed it off, but now, I didn't understand the meaning. So I'd waited for a chance when Takato-san wasn't in the student council room and tried sneakily showing Kuya-san the note where I'd copied down just the characters.

Spring heart crying in a cuckoo. [info]

Kuya-san smiled brightly and said, "That's a love poem."


I hadn't considered that. Well, there wasn't a single character in that about like, or love, or romance.

"That's right. Well, there are various interpretations, but Masatsugu addressed it to you, didn't he? In that case, I think it means he yearns for you, crying until he's coughing blood."

With that, Kuya-san looked like he was really amused by something and added, "It's a passionate love letter!"

A love letter. From Takato-san to me.

At that moment, I heard the door open. Takato-san had come back. The calm gaze behind his glasses first quickly glanced at Kuya-san, then it fixed on me, who had become bright red, and last, it fell to the note on the table.

"W, welcome back, Takato-san..." I quickly hid the note, but it was too late.

Takato-san came right up to me and put his lips to my ear. "Showing something like this to another person... You really don't understand anything."

Takato-san caught my stiff hand. "I'll make you understand properly."

Then, with a wave of his hand to Kuya-san, who watched us brightly, he dragged me away.


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