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rabbitholessk · 26 days

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Coincidence

Jinshi is unsure what in particular is ailing him tonight.

No amount of tossing, turning, and changing positions has brought him any rest since his head first hit the pillow.

It’s late. He knows that. Rising from his bed, he sips on the readily accessible water pitcher. Haphazardly throwing on an outer robe, he stuffs pillows under his sheets that give an impression similar to his build. Jinshi knows Suiren more than likely won’t be looking for him, it was just a precautionary measure. Not only that, he’s fairly certain she knows of his excursions, both past and present. They aren’t often, but it’s been enough times that she is not so easily fooled by his antics.

What is strange is why she keeps letting him get away with it. Maybe she knows that his sense of duty weighs heavily enough upon him, that he has no other choice but to return.

Opening his bedroom window as quietly as possible, he slips away. At this hour he tries to jog his memory of where the nighttime guards are posted. Unfortunately, he’s had to learn their rotations the hard way, since getting caught a few years prior. After that incident, he’d made it a point to learn the rotations and times they switched the guard.

However, to get out of his house grounds, he has to get on his stomach and crawl through a hedge to arrive at a less guarded area of the palace.

His stomach scratches against a few twigs on his way through, but he makes it without being seen. With the hard part over, he stands, weaving his way around court buildings and dividing walls.

Tonight, he ends up at the medical grounds. Scaling the lead office, Jinshi sneaks around the attached dorm building, until he happens upon the modest plot of land Maomao has commandeered. With the help of the other medical students and doctors, they’ve managed to nurture a thriving garden, filled with herbs and vegetables.

What he does not expect is to find someone tending, or are they stealing ? From said garden. Moonlight helps illuminate the rough outline of a figure kneeling down in the dirt. He’s hidden behind a large tree just a few paces away from the mysterious person.

“Whoever is there, come out.” The stranger voices in his direction.

Revealing himself from behind the cover of the tree, he steps into plain sight, making his way closer to the no longer mysterious stranger. The young woman, unsurprisingly, is unnerved by his presence. She continues working in the dirt. When his footsteps are close enough to her, she glances up.

“Jinshi-sama?!”

That was odd. Did she not realize it was him when he first showed himself?

He crouches in front of her, using a hand to cover her mouth. When he deems she understands that she needs to be quiet, he lets go.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m out for a walk.”

Even with the limited light he can tell from the quiet alone she is narrowing her eyes at him. A similar chill that Maomao’s scrutinizing gaze evokes, reminds him of Suiren when she is about to scold him.

He’s not exactly sure what to do with that.

“Does Suiren know you’re out?”

Jinshi chooses his words carefully.

“She knows that I always come back.”

“So she doesn’t.”

Jinshi remains silent. Maomao sighs.

“What are you doing?” He turns his attention to her.

“Weeding.” Maomao continues to tend the soil.

“At this hour?” Jinshi questions.

“Why not?”

He can think of quite a few reasons why. Knowing Maomao, she knows the reasons too. If she was awake and trying to distract herself to the point of weeding the medical offices gardens, at this unholy hour, then something must be really bothering her.

Jinshi stands from his crouched position, and brushes away any dirt.

“Come on.”

Maomao looks up at him from where she’s plucking greens from the garden. This is not his first endeavor. He’s come prepared.

Pulling a small bottle from his sleeves he shakes it in front of her. With the low light he can’t tell if he’s imagining things, but he’s certain her eyes just sparkled with delight.

Maomao is up and fixing the wrinkles out of her skirts.

“Where to?” Her eyes track where he stuffs the bottle back into his sleeves.

“I know a segment of wall where there is a blind spot from the guards.”

“After you, Sir.”

—

They make it to the part of the wall that is for the most part unseen from a guards standpoint at night. After a few close calls, and ducking behind manicured shrubbery, Jinshi sits himself behind a large oak tree. With his back against the stone of the wall, he pulls the bottle out.

Maomao quietly sits beside him. With how close they are, the trunk of the tree is able to cover both of them from any onlookers. Jinshi uncorks the bottle with his teeth, spitting the cork into his palm. He takes a swig, and passes it off to Maomao.

For a wonderful moment, he revels in the feeling of her shoulder pressed against his arm. Peering up to the starry sky, he makes an assessment that it more than likely will rain soon. The storm clouds slowly creep along the dark expanse of sky, gliding closer to block the moon's light.

Jinshi snaps out of his viewing of the heavens when he hears loud gulping beside him. Turning his attention back to Maomao he snatches the bottle from her tight hold.

“ Oi! Leave some for me!”

Maomao wipes the excess liquid off her lips. “You weren’t done?”

Maybe he’s more tired than he thought, or perhaps Maomao brings out his childish side– either way he meets her eyes and tilts his head back to gulp down as much of the remaining alcohol that he can.

The look of shock on her face quickly morphs into panic. He anticipates her next move. Switching hands, he holds the bottle in the hand farthest from Maomao, while blocking her grabby hands from taking it away from his mouth.

Jinshi manages to hold her at bay, before he removes the bottle from his lips, and adds an exaggerated ‘ ah’ sound .

He of course left her some, he doesn’t have a death wish! Though he does have to tease her that little bit.

Maomao’s current expression would have once made him break into a cold sweat. To taunt her just that much more he swirls the contents of the bottle so she can hear there is still a fair amount left over. Maomao rolls her eyes and snags it out of his hand.

Jinshi smiles. “The rest is yours.”

Shaking his head, he listens on as she greedily drinks the rest. Gazing back up, he tries to catch the last glimpse of stars, before the clouds move in and hide them from view. The scene dredges up a memory, followed by an idea. Jinshi stands and examines the area, assuring they were still hidden enough.

Maomao sets the empty bottle on the ground beside her.

“You’re not plotting something indecent are you?”

“Of course not!” He voices harshly.

Now that she’s mentioned it though…

Jinshi moves towards her, leaning down in front of her. He offers her a hand to help her up.

“What’s going on?” Maomao questions, reluctantly giving him her hand. Jinshi gets her back on her feet. He does not let go of her hand. To his surprise, neither does she.

“I’m reminded of a time where I was alerted, that there was a certain apothecary dancing on the palace wall.”

Jinshi moves to face her and reaches to take her other hand. She’s immediately on edge.

“That was a long time ago.”

“Mm, I disagree.” Jinshi recalls the foggy lessons from his youth, attempting to adjust his hold on her, and discreetly fix their stance.

“Again, what are you doing?” Maomao asks again, her body becoming more rigid than it already was, halting Jinshi from trying to proceed with his final move. He knew trying to ease her into a dance would not be an easy task.

With her hand in his, and his other now splayed on her middle back he stands tall. If he can trick himself into a confident stature, maybe it would transfer to his ego.

“Will you allow me a dance?”

The initial look of disgust on her face is quickly hidden when she shifts her gaze to her feet. The mock confidence he had been trying so hard to keep up begins to crumble.

“I thought I told you I’m not versed in dance.”

The barely noticeable tremble in her voice restores him slightly.

“But you know the basics.”

Maomao peeks up at him, he grins, knowing he has her. He could mention how she seemed to dance perfectly fine with Rikuson during their first trip to the West. Making the smart choice, he refrains. There was no need to dredge that back up.

“I swear I will never request this of you ever again, if you allow me this once.”

Maomao takes a breath, yet her hand remains in his. His self doubt increases, before noticing Maomao straightening and placing her spare hand on his shoulder.

“Go on. You lead.” Maomao commands. Despite the chill in the air, he distinguishes the mild warmth and clamminess of her hand.

With his eyes trained on Maomao’s face he steps first, she follows. Their dancing is disjointed, there are countless missteps, and they step on each other's toes a few times each.

They end up bonking their heads, trying to study their footing. They let go of their hold on the other. Maomao rubs her forehead. It’s getting darker, the storm will more than likely begin at any moment.

A selfish thought comes to him. The last thing he wants is for this moment to end with sore heads and stomped toes.

Jinshi gently re-takes her hand and pulls her body to his. The side of her face presses into his chest.

Nerves continue to pester him, but Maomao remains. She’s not fighting out of his hold, rather, he could say she’s leaning against him. Jinshi knows better than to get his hopes up, this is all just some series of happy coincidences.

“I’m gathering neither of us are suited for classical dances.” Jinshi whispers into the top of her head. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he starts to sway in place. Maomao limply follows along. Her arms are at her sides, and her head remains nestled against him. Jinshi rests his cheek on the top of her head, inhaling her familiar scent of muted florals with the barest hint of spice.

The sleep he’s missing out on, begins to make itself known. Their swaying devolves into them standing against each other.

A loud clap of thunder startles him from falling asleep standing up. To his surprise Maomao is unbothered by the sudden sound. Carefully, Jinshi reaches for her shoulders, keeping her in place. When he takes a small step back, Maomao’s head lolls forward. Quickly, he reaches out to steady her head. Squinting in the low light, Jinshi notices her eyes are shut.

She fell asleep against him!

Shock shifts to worry. His fingers skim up from her chin, to her forehead. Maomao is radiating heat. Jinshi kicks himself for not realizing sooner.

Carefully, he reaches behind her legs and hoists her into a bridal hold. Maomao shivers, then groans at the change. Muscle memory takes him back to his house, uncaring if guards end up noticing him. Maomao’s safety is his top priority.

Sneaking back through the window is no longer an option. Instead, he’s forced to knock on the front door. A couple nerve wracking minutes pass before the main door creaks open. Suiren holds a lantern out to take in the scene. Jinshi is certain his appearance is a frightening one, haggard and sweaty from racing across the palace grounds in the middle of the night, with Maomao asleep in his arms. Suiren assesses them before further opening the door and ushering him in.

The door shuts as the sound of heavy rain begins. Jinshi refuses to imagine Maomao, alone, sick , and plucking weeds from the medical grounds garden in the middle of a dark downpour. He knows better than anyone that a tired and sick Maomao would ignore her pain, and continue her self appointed task if given the chance.

The universe really was creating the strangest coincidences that evening.

–

Throbbing pain, and bright light wake Maomao from an otherwise restful sleep. Judging by the feel of the mattress she’s laying on, she knows she’s not in her dorm room. By mistake, she jolts when she realizes exactly where she is.

Clutching her head in her hands, she blocks the sunshine pouring in from the window across the lavish room.

“You are always trying to get me to rest.”

Maomao turns her head in the direction of the thankfully soft, heavenly voice.

“You should really heed your own advice, and before you ask, the medical offices know you are accounted for.”

Jinshi is seated on one of the plush chairs in the common area of his room, a few feet away from his bed. Rising from his chair he pours water into a cup, walking over to the bed and handing it off to her. Maomao takes it, realizing how parched she really is.

“Jinshi-sama,” He pauses, waiting for her to continue. Maomao glances at her reflection in the water, then focuses back on him. “We shared a drink last night. Seeing as I’ve developed a fever, you are likely to as well in the coming days. Assuming what I have is catching.”

“And whose fault is that?!” Jinshi exclaims, leaning down into her space, sounding more worried than angry.

To be fair, Moamao had not realized she was ill until she woke moments ago. She’s never been great at detecting illness in her being. Between her high pain tolerance, and general perseverance, her bodily awareness cues will at times blur.

It’s probably why she decided to go out in the garden last night. The previous night in bed, she recalls not being able to sleep. Her first idea had been to get fresh air, that method has historically helped her rest.

A light tapping on his bedroom door interrupts her thought process.

“Young master, your presence is needed.” Suiren announces.

With his pointer finger and thumb Jinshi pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes tightly, so much so his forehead wrinkles. She fights the urge to reach out and smooth them. Jinshi inhales before responding.

“Understood. I will be out shortly.”

Suiren’s footsteps fade down the hall.

“Suiren knows not to let you leave until your fever has run its course.”

Jinshi steps to the door, sparing Maomao one last glance before being whisked away to his work.

“That won’t be a problem. Jinshi-sama’s bed is quite comfortable.”

The dull aching of her head reminds her to drink the water she’s been given. Maomao watches curiously over the rim of the cup, as Jinshi’s back straightens before sliding the door open and walking out.

Later, when Jinshi’s carriage is long gone, Maomao’s cloudy-feverish mind realizes the connotations her final remark might have had.

There was nothing she could do about that now.

The thought of escape does cross her mind. There were always a plethora of tasks that needed to be done at the medical offices, but somehow the promise of Jinshi and Suiren’s combined wrath keeps her rooted in place.

#the apothecary diaries #kusuriya no hitorigoto #fanfic #maomao #jinmao #jinshi #also posted on my ao3 under rabbitholessk :-)

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