For once, the remnants of rain are not the focus. For once, tangled thoughts are smoothed if only for a moment.

For once.

Somehow, a tiny flutter of wings had slipped itself into the room when no one noticed, and now it beats its own dusty body in heartbeat pulses high towards the ceiling.

Huge, ungraceful swoops of air follow the boy as he bounds haphazard around the room, springing off beds and thudding against walls with clutching fingers all the while grasping towards the tiny creature he'll never catch. The catching doesn't really matter.

The others are breathlessly still in witness to the game, while the child's shrieks mask the very last dull patter against the roof.

A/N.

Wrote this while listening to "The Professor" by Damien Rice, and while the lyrics fit not-at-all, the feel of that acoustic guitar made this pop into my mind. Yay fuzzyyy feeling. ;) (Psst--Listen his his stuff if you haven't before, you'll be very pleased to find some Saiyuki characters lurking in the lyrics: "here's to the man with his face in the mud.")

Happy little fic, but it partway breaks my heart because every now and then Goku shows a flash of real maturity and adult awareness and knowing a character like him will eventually grow up for real is just.. mrrr..