They glittered in the sunlight, a cloud of golden dragon-flies that sang and whizzed
giggling past his ear. Tiny wings as multiple as the rainbow fluttered madly -- feathery bird,
jeweled dragonfly, bright butterfly, icy lattice, shining bone, filigree fleck, and furred
bat. Every limb was a study of perfection in miniature and every smile sharp and merry.
Quietly, he lifted a finger as a one of his golden cloud detached to drop upon it,
chittering gaily at him. With a mad giggle it darted away to blow itself into sparks.
Sengoku smiled. He had always known he had lucky sprites.
Prince of Tennis |