#Yuzuri would probably be like

[sabraeal]

Friends With Amenities

[Read on AO3]

“I-I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Shirayuki’s fingers curl against the counter; the only thing keeping her upright as her blood abandons everything below the knee and rushes to her head. “I think there’s been a mistake.”

The concierge points one long nail toward her screen, angled firmly away from the customer side of the counter, eyebrows bumping up against her hairline. “Well, ma’am, it says here that you’re booked for the deluxe king suite, complete with master bath, full kitchenette, and picturesque views of the old quarter.”

“No, I— I’m sure I said two queens.” She’d only made the booking two weeks ago, fingers trembling as she read the number off the department’s travel card, double- and triple-checking that the reservation had been for two adults in two separate beds. “Very sure! I even have the email—”

“Oh yeah, of course.” Nails clatter as the woman waves her hand, unconcerned. Sweat prickles along her spine, and oh, what Shirayuki wouldn’t give to tap into some of the reserve of calm. “But it looks like you were selected for a free upgrade! That means that not only are you welcome to partake in our continental breakfast, but that you also have access to our—”

“But one king is still less than the two beds I asked for.” It’s not as if there’s a problem sharing with Obi— over the past year, she’s probably spent more nights in his bed with him that she’s spent in her own alone the last three— but that’s all…incidental. Something that happens when she agrees to just one more episode, or lets him work on one last slide as she starts in on her bedtime reading. But agreeing to this—

That would be on purpose. A plan to share space. Two bodies beneath the covers touching.

“Can’t you just put me back in my old room?” The bitten ends of her nails carve painful crescents into her palms. “If you upgraded me to a king suite, that means there was a double queen you left empty, doesn’t it?”

The concierge grimaces, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but this conference has got us booked to the gills. If there was a double queen available, it’s been booked out now.”

“But…” Her eyes sting, and ugh— this is a silly thing to to care about. Pedantics, really, when they probably would have ended up curled up on the same bed anyway. But that doesn’t stop the pressure building in her nose, or the hot, helpless tears hanging at the end of her tear ducts. “Why?”

“Ah, I’m not sure of the…er… selection process when it comes to these upgrades, ma’am.” The concierge pointedly looks down at her screen, uselessly wiggling the mouse. “Maybe it was random, or maybe they looked at your reservation and saw something about it that made them think you might have…hm…wanted one bed at a better price point…”

“What would…?” Her teeth snap shut around the question. The double queen was cheaper than a single king; even a couple might look at the price points and decide the extra bed wasn’t a deal breaker. Two people with the same address—

But they didn’t have Obi’s address, or hers. Just the department’s card, and two names, one male, one female.

My point is, you’re in a hotel filled with people who won’t find it intimidating that you can mark a turtle migratory pattern on a map just by looking at its skull. Yuzuri’s shrug is seared onto the back of her eyelids, so casual, like like the logic of work hookups is obvious. What happens at conference stays at conference.

“I’d like to”— speak with your manager perches right at the tip of her tongue, threatening to tip over, to cause a scene, but a deep breath scuttles it before she can founder— “ask if there’s any other rooms available?”

The concierge casts her the sort of side eye Yuzuri could only dream of, but she keys in the request anyway. “The honeymoon suite? That comes with—”

Shirayuki slumps. “I’ll take the deluxe king.”

*

It’s not hard to find Obi— he’s hovering at the edge of the bar, as promised, the entire impossible length of his legs unfurled between seat and floor. There’s the barest hint of tanned skin where his shirt has begun to roll up, and—

And it’s just her luck that Yuzuri’s already there, curled around her drink like her smile’s curls around the straw, watching her watching him.

“There she is!” she calls out, one hand swinging out in invitation. “Suzu’s already searching for swag on the expo floor. I was gonna wait for you, but it looked like things were getting heated down at your end of the counter, so I thought I’d leave you to it.”

There’s an edge of her tongue that could lash out, could cut with a real wry thanks— but it blunts when she considers just what sort of help Yuzuri would have been with one bed on the line.

A dimple furrows itself between Obi’s brow as he sets down his glass, the plastic gator at the bottom bobbling between layers. “Everything all good, Doc? I can go over and cause a problem if you need some—”

There might be no way to guess this cocktail’s composition— some kind of juice, probably, maybe with champagne for bubbles, or vodka for a kick— but whatever it is, it’s certain better than trying to explain all this sober. Shirayuki reaches out with both hands, completely ignoring the suggestion of straw or stirrer, and takes a full gulp.

It’s almost disappointing how little it burns going down. It does taste good though.

Obi lifts a brow. “That bad, huh?”

She takes a breath, running a hand over the back of her mouth before she tells him, “We’ve only got one bed.”

*

“Aw, come on, Doc.” Obi shifts his bag over his shoulder, biceps flexing to redistribute the weight, and haah, it would be nice to get a little warning if he was going to make himself so dangerous to look at. “How bad could it be?”

Her suitcase rolls too close, nipping her heels halfway to the door, but even that can’t keep her from rolling a glare his way. “You know better than to say something like that.”

“I know, I know, but I’m just saying— bed as big as that, we’re practically in different zip codes.” He shrugs, and oh, he might be playing casual, might be pretending that all this hits him like water off a duck’s back, but Shirayuki doesn’t miss the stiffness of those angles, the way tension hampers every twitch. “I could go full starfish and you’d still have to ship international to get to my fingers.”

She snorts. “I think you underestimate just how much limb you have.”

“I think you mean rippling muscle.” He flexes one in demonstration, close enough that she catches the nutmeg and bergamot of his deodorant. “Unending plains of gains. The heartland of hulk. The absolute breadbasket of—”

“I didn’t realize we were talking about Mitsuhide,” she hums, too innocent, swiping her card in front of the door’s scanner.

“Hey—”

The door swings open, and all his planned protests elide into a heartfelt whistle. “Wow, when they say upgrade, they mean upgrade.”

“I guess so…” The double queen had been just a room with beds, two chairs and a table thrown into a corner to give somewhere else to sit— plenty of room for two people who were used to navigating the same space— but this…this is practically an apartment. The stumpy entryway leads right into the living room, small kitchen to the right and bathroom to the left.

Obi saunters past her, dropping his bag on the sectional— a full couch plus chaise— and hooks his hands on his hips. “Damn. This TV is bigger than ours!”

She clucks her tongue on habit, flushing when his grin. “We’re not here to watch TV.”

“Right, we’re here to get some billionaire to sign off on saving turtles,” he says agreeably, even as he flicks it on, scrolling through the guide. “But while we’re not doing that, I bet this thing gets all the channels. I wonder if HBO still plays porn after midnight…”

“We’re here for a conference,” she reminds him, taking the two steps up to a set of folding doors. “And hopefully finding Eisetsu Rugilia among the attendees.”

“Right, but they don’t have lectures and two am, so—”

“Obi.”

He holds up his hands. “You’re right, Doc. Two am is when all these billionaire babies have their parties. I won’t have time for” — he squints at the text stretching across the screen— “Damon’s Seed when I’m already living my own Eyes Wide Shut.”

She stares at him, blank. “You know I don’t get that reference.”

“I know.” One shoulder lifts; the most aggravating of his shrugs. “It’s funnier that way.”

With anyone else she would let it drop— woodland fairy creature she may be, but she didn’t begrudge her childhood a moment of sunshine— but with Obi she huffs, fitting her fists around the door’s knobs, informing him, “One day I’m going to watch all these movies, and then you’ll have to find some other source of entertainment.”

“Believe it when I see it, Doc. Believe it while I see it.”

“You will. After I finish my thesis, I’ll have plenty of time to”— the doors whip open, a more dramatic entry than she planned, and—

And her whole brain narrows onto a single, “Oh.”

“Wow.” Obi’s breath catches far too close to her ear. “Now that’s some bed. I think we might lose you in the pillows.”

Her jaw works, managing a single, “Um.”

“Oh hey!” Obi peers around the jamb. “Look, there’s more room! That’s pretty…”

He slinks past her, all sinew and swagger, and—

And nearly stumbles, all his words peter down to a “Woah.”

*

“A jacuzzi?” Yuzuri groans, head sinking into her hands. “You guys got a jacuzzi?”

“A jacuzzi tub,” Shirayuki corrects numbly, the stem of her Shirley Temple twisting between her fingers. “Not a…a hot tub or anything.”

“Big enough to be one though.” Obi’s hand brushes over his shoulder, contemplative, before settling back on his drink. “Probably could fit the whole lab in there if we didn’t mind getting cozy.”

Izuru tilts her head. “Oh, like…naked?”

As brazen as Obi can be, even he chokes. “The lab tub party would definitely have a bathing suit dress code.”

“Oh.” She sighs, disinterested. “Disappointing.”

“Where’s my free upgrade?” Yuzuri leans back, head tipping over her chair in despair. “I want a jacuzzi.”

“Maybe one of your hookups will have one, if you’re lucky,” Kazaha drawls, flipping through his copy of the conference directory. It’s not quite phone book sized, but it is intimidating, filled cover-to-cover with people not much older than her but far more accomplished. Only a few hours ago, she might have questioned her place here, whether she would ever contribute enough to the field to even get an abstract in the door, but—

But right now she’s still stuck on the full bathroom, visible from the bed. Except, of course, the toilet. That, thankfully, is tucked away in a smaller closet. But still, shower and tub and bed with nothing but a change in flooring to separate them.

Yuzuri can never know. “I don’t want to take a bath in some guy’s tub! Like god, how would that even be relaxing?”

“The sex could be interesting,” Izuru offers. “Just like a hot tub.”

“No, we’ve been over this!” Yuzuri waves a hand, as if that might be enough to shoo the idea away from the table. “You need preparation for water sex. Lube, for one. A plan, for another. Insurance, since at best you’re going to crack your head open, and at worst, you’ll end up at a gynecologist.”

Suzu blink. “Worst?”

“There are things that can happen to a vag that I’d rather be in a coma for.” She gives Shirayuki a pointed— and completely unnecessary— glance. “Trust me.”

Obi simply raises a brow, sipping from his straw. “You didn’t bring lube?”

“That’s not the point.” Yuzuri rolls her eyes, flicking a ribbon of blonde over her shoulder. “If I’m taking a bath, it’s going to be with bubbles and salts and no less than four jets, all alone.”

“But he could wash your hair.” Suzu’s forehead furrows, oddly concerned. “That’s nice isn’t it? I liked it when then did it at the salon…”

“It is nice, Suzu, but it’s also intimate, and if I’m just looking to— ugh.” Her hands fly up in the air. “Never mind. No jacuzzi sex, end of story. Now what are you going to do about the one bed situation?”

“Y-yuzuri!” Shirayuki sputters, hoping her cheeks are only half as red as they feel. “That’s— that’s not important.”

“I think it’s important,” she hums, smirk wrapping around her straw. “Entertaining, at least.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Obi huffs, settling back in his chair. “There’s enough bed for the population of Luxembourg. Me and Doc could both be on that thing and not be within shouting distance.”

Yuzuri swivels in her seat, glaring at Shirayuki across the table. “It’s so unfair you guys got that room and you’re not even going to f—”

Suzu clears his throat. “Not to state the obvious but…doesn’t this room have a couch or something?”

*

“The program says G7,” Shirayuki murmurs, lingering over the letters printed at the head of each aisle. “Which I think should be down over here, if— Obi, are you all right?”

He might have dogged her heels through the doors of the exhibition hall, but Obi’s lagged behind as she navigates through the field of half-empty tables, only a handful of posters properly displayed. He grunts, adjusting the half dozen canisters on his back. “Well, it is kind of a burn to have Suzu have to remind me couches exist. I mean, I would know, wouldn’t I? Done plenty with only two feet of cushion—”

“I meant with the posters,” she sighs, doubling back to lift a few from his shoulders. “I can’t believe they sent us to set up all of them.”

“I can.” Obi smirks, leaning the rest against the table. “It’s our punishment for getting the best room. And for not— how did Yuzuri put it?— using it to its fullest.”

“W-well, you’d think they’d have a little more professional pride in displaying their work.” The caps on the canisters put up a fight— Shidan had said they might after they came off the plane, something about pressurization and vacuums and other physics concepts she only had a casual acquaintance with through undergrad— but Shirayuki’s happy for the excuse to be doing something when she adds, “You can if you want to, you know.”

One of Obi’s posters pops open with all the subtlety of gunshot. “Uh, want to run that by me again, Doc?”

“I just mean if you wanted to brings someone back and…er…take advantage of all the…amenities…?” She strives to be casual, to be cool, like it’s none of her business what he might get up to unattended. Like she hadn’t bitten her nails clear down to quick under the covers when he was out with Haki’s friend, slinking home well after midnight. “Just let me know.”

“Me?” he coughs. “Really? And just what would you do?”

She shrugs her shoulders, striving for the kind of calm Obi exudes on an everyday basis. “I’m sure Yuzuri wouldn’t mind some company.”

One of his eyebrows creeps to a skeptical altitude. “If she isn’t taking advantage of her own amenities.”

“O-oh, well!” She shakes her head, trying to look anywhere but at him. “She won’t take anyone back to her room, so, uh, that might be even better, if you think about it. Someone using it, at least.”

Air hisses out through his teeth with no hint of his usual humor. “Listen, Doc, really, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not really…” He shakes his head, one hand scrubbing at the bristle in back. “I mean, I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’m not in the market for…”

He hesitates, eyes narrowing. “Ryuu?”

Shirayuki blinks, tracing his gaze under the table, to where Ryuu is curled up, travel pillow under his head. He shrinks further into his pillbug position, managing a bleak, “Hi.”

“Hey there, big guy.” Obi crouches, folding his arms over his knees casually, like people hang out under tables all the time. “Me and Doc were just out here putting up the posters. What’s up with you.”

“Not much.” He shifts, blue eyes searching both their faces before he admits, “They lost my reservation.”

Shirayuki squats down beside him, brow drawn. “Excuse me?”

“They don’t have a record of my transaction in their database,” he murmurs, rubbing his cheek against the soft microfiber of his pillow. “Even the manager tried. But it looks like even th payment didn’t go through. They think it might be because I’m not— well, an adult is supposed to make the reservation, and I was the only one in the room, and with no legal guardian…”

His nose wrinkles, mouth pursing mulishly before he blurts out, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Stay with us.”

It takes a moment for Shirayuki to realize it’s not her voice saying the words, but Obi’s. He glances at her, and anyone else might be looking for permission, but there’s only confidence there, so certain that she was only a slip of the tongue behind him, that they were single in purpose, and—

And it’s stupid it took her until graduation to realize that this is what she’s been wanting.

“Really?” Ryuu perks, head lifting off the pillow.

“Of course.” Shirayuki knows better than to reach out, to try to comfort him through something as offensive as touch, so she just smiles instead, hoping her sincerity shines through. “We’d be happy to have you.”

He glances between the both of them. “You’re— you’re sure it’s okay?”

“Why not?” Obi says, casting her some rueful side eye. “Now that we know we have a couch, we’re made of room.”

Ah, that’s right. The couch. The couch Obi was going to sleep on…

“Guess it’s a good thing that bed could fit a small country,” Obi mutters, getting to his feet— and then freezing. “Can I help you?”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Shirayuki scramble to her feet, but if the voice isn’t familiar, the man who speak with it is even less so. “You’re part of Shidan Weise’s lab, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” She brushes off her skirt, trying to look somewhat presentable. Like a colleague, instead of someone who spends conferences crouching under tables. “We were just setting up for the poster session. Is there something…?”

“Ah, no, no. I’m not here about the posters.” The man smiles, but it never reaches his eyes. “My name is Shuu Grately. I’m here to tender an invitation.”

Obi’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Invitation?”

“On behalf of Eisetsu Rugilia.” One corner of his mouth hooks, humorless. “He would like you to come to his dinner tonight.”

[ruleofexception]

A thorn in the sky (ch 5 excerpt)

A continuation of this.

~

If he weren’t still trying to fish his heart out of the pool of adrenaline it’s been soaking in since he walked out of the station, he might laugh. Double over and wheeze until his sides hurt, but-

“What the fuck, Obi?”

Pale chest rising and falling at a frantic pace – still holding a pillow over his junk with one hand and a can of bug spray in the other like it’s a baseball bat – the pink fluffy handcuff snapped around Suzu’s wrist jingles as he weakly waves the can at him in a way that, he’s sure, is meant to be threatening.

“That’s your weapon of choice? Really?” He does his best to act casual. Like his being home at this time is completely normal. A strangled laugh does its best to escape, and he gestures towards the bug spray shaking in Suzu’s hand. “And why are you holding it like that? Pretty sure it’d be more effective to spray it in someone’s eyes, rather than-”

“I should spray it in your eyes, you fuck!” Suzu bellows, “You scared the shit out of me – I thought you were at work!”

Somehow he doesn’t think he’s going to be able to tiptoe around this or distract Suzu by poking fun at the bug spray and pink handcuffs. Best keep this simple, then. Only say as much as he needs to.

“I was.” Obi shrugs, tight. Ignores the knowing gaze boring into him and leans to the side so he can shout down the hall past Suzu. “Hey Yuzuri.”

“Hi Obi!” Bubbly as ever, she hollers back; and yet her lack of appearance in Suzu’s door frame suggests they’re playing with more than cheap handcuffs today. “How’ve you been?”

Shitty. “Oh, can’t complain, I suppose.”

“Ha. You’re a terrible liar!” She says, a little too breathlessly.

“Yeah, I know.” The glass smile he wears is starting to crack and splinter. His chuckle is hollow.

He needs to drop his shit and get out of here. Maybe go grab a drink at the bar down the street and calm his nerves. Take the rest of today to wrap his head around it all, before he starts to worry about how the fuck he’s going to pull this off.

Finally lowering the can, Suzu – in all of his pale and scrawny glory – sidles up beside Obi with a jingle and concerned frown pulling at flushed cheeks. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you at work?”

“I quit.” It’s a struggle to speak. The words burn and stick like bile in his throat.

“Bullshit. You love your job.”

Ah. How foolish of him; of course Suzu would see right through him. After all, they’ve only known each other for forever. Been almost inseparable since they were kids. Two scrawny outcasts, thicker than thieves and practically brothers, acting like a couple of idiots in the skatepark together. 

Unfortunately, in some ways, Suzu may know him better than he knows himself.

Still, he tries to keep the lie alive with a grin grit between his teeth, “If you don’t believe me, I’m sure you can go on down to the station and ask. It’s probably all they’ll be talking about for the next week.”

Still not buying it, Suzu grips the pillow over his junk a little tighter and leans closer with a low growl, “What’s going on, Obi?”

Warm caramel gaze searching him with an intensity that makes him want to squirm; it’s not the first time Obi thinks that it’s the type of gaze that would make Suzu a good cop, should he ever get his shit together and finish the program.

Obi swallows hard. Licks his lips and whispers a low warning, “Nothing.”

“Yuzuri’s right.” The bug can sways lazily in his grip. He sighs, giving Obi a pointed look. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Bristling – frustrated that he can’t talk to anyone about this particular mission, and still not entirely sure how he’s going to accomplish this on his own with almost no leads – Obi pushes past Suzu with a grunt, before dropping his box of shit on the kitchen island.

Something inside shatters. Based on the contents he’d hastily crammed in there, while fighting back waves of tears and feeling like he might pass out, it’s likely the mug Kiki gifted him the day they solved their first case together.

Obi’s jaw clenches. Throat burns.

Not wanting to check in the box and see the broken pieces of his favourite mug – the shattered remains that resemble his career – and unable to find it in him to look Suzu in the eyes, he turns on his heel, making a beeline for the door he’s only just come through, and snaps, “And you’re good at sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“Talk to me, Obi.” Ignoring the bite in his tone – somehow understanding that although it’s directed at him, it’s not meant for him – Suzu stumbles after him; the handcuff jangling with each step, “What happened?”

Suzu’s fingers catch at his sleeve – trying to get him to stay and explain what’s going on – and, without giving it much thought, Obi smacks his hand away with a low growl, “I can’t, Suzu.” Chest heaving and anxiety levels nearing critical once more, he pleads, “So please, don’t ask again.”

Without waiting for a response – dreading what kind of expression he might be met with if he were to dare turn around – he slips out the front door and stumbles his way through smoke-stained hallways, past nosy neighbours trying to catch a glimpse of the cop next door, and down the cracked stone steps towards the bustling street.

[onedivinemisfit]

Hello! You've mentioned that you would like to get back to obiyuki chronic pain/disabled AU? I would like to some more of this too. So, where do Obi and Shirayuki go next? Do they meet Ryuu and Garack? Or do they go to Lyrias and meet Suzu and Yuzuri? Do they catch Feelings for each other?

Hnnng yes, I love that you do~

So they take the hay cart to the nearest town, and then a carriage to Wistal. Obi gives Shirayuki the assassin’s league dagger before they split up, saying it will help her in a pinch. Neither realizes they’re both sticking around in Wistal at least for the time being, which is dumb of them cuz hello ur both in need of cash. Shirayuki gets a job at a downtown pharmacy, meanwhile Obi goes knocking at guildie doors for work. Yes they’re gonna end up living on the same street but in different boarding houses.

Shirayuki is def gonna get some attention from Garack and Ryuu once they realize there’s a new, very competent face in town, whom rumors hold has ties to the underworld. <- that’s the running gag here.

You could say it’s at times a lower-stakes AU, if only because Obi and Shirayuki’s respective disabilities can never be ‘overcome’. Shirayuki can help out with research, but she can’t do long field trips, or ponder at a desk for hours at a time. Obi’s been asking around for less risky jobs too (her influence a lot of the time) because not even adrenaline can get him to fully ignore his busted knees anymore. Instead he’s out there doing courier runs and the occasional break-and-enter.

They’ll catch feels over the course of getting to know eachother, helping out (yes Shirayuki gets called to a safe house at some point to patch him up by then she doesn’t give a fuck about the ‘criminal’ label) doing their daily life thingies, bonding over health issues, and slowly, sloooooowly starting to consider a future… mebbe together?

I love the Lilias Crew more than anything, so I just gotta find the right moment to have them meet. If that’s under less than legal circumstances compared to canon, so be it. And if either of the two meets Zen and co., first it’ll be Obi, probably via marquis Haruka. He’ll land himself a job with royal implications and regret ever taking it xD but I will draw a line in that this AU’s obiyuki will never play the super important royal diplomat figures. Again, gotta keep the stakes lower, more a focus on the everyday struggles that come with disability </3

[kirayaykimura]

Wrong (Apartment) Number

For Obiyuki Madness 2022 - I Will Find You

Obi hated his apartment complex. Sure it was within walking distance of work and had an in-unit washer and dryer, but the stairwell had no windows. Most people would think that was a petty thing to want to move over, but most people weren’t being hounded by an overly friendly coworker with no means of escape. 

“And then she said she’d always wanted a pet monkey so I had to break up with her,” Yuzuri said, continuing the conversation Obi had stopped contributing to half a mile earlier. He could feel her right on his heels, obviously out of breath after six flights but doggedly pushing forward anyway. “So now I’m back to being in love with Garak from afar.”

“It’s probably for the best that you don’t get too close. She’d eat you alive.” 

“But what a way to go.” 

Obi snorted as he unlocked his door. 

“Hey, so,” Obi said as she followed him right over the threshold into his apartment, “why are you here?” 

“Because I’m brokenhearted about how Garak doesn’t love me back now that I’m newly single again. Weren’t you listening?” 

“And I’m helping with that how?” 

“By feeding me popcorn and alcohol and maybe watching a movie with me.”

“You’re shameless,” he said, to which she simply grinned. Aware he wasn’t getting out of this anytime soon (and secretly happy he wouldn’t have to spend his entire Friday night alone), Obi had one foot in his bedroom to change out of his work clothes before settling in on the couch with Yuzuri before he froze. There was a lump in his bed. A lump with red hair and wide eyes that looked as surprised as he felt. 

“Oh,” Yuzuri stated. “There’s a girl in your bed.” 

Obi leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and felt Yuzuri peek over his other shoulder to get a better look at said girl. 

“So there is,” he said, casually crossing his arms over his chest and settling in for the explanation. This was not the first time an unexpected girl had popped up in his bed, but it was the first time he didn’t recognize her at all. He found himself very interested to see what on earth this girl’s story was going to be. 

“Who are you?” the girl asked. She was clearly scared, but did a very good job of hiding it. Her voice was strong and commanding. The message was slightly undermined by the fact that her hair was mussed from what looked to be a very good nap and she was buried under his fluffy pink comforter, but he’d still give her brownie points for trying. 

Obi raised an eyebrow and asked, “Do you really think you get to be asking that question?” 

 “Since this is my apartment, I think I have the right to know who’s breaking and entering.” 

“Your-” Obi looked around, confused. She’d said it with such conviction that he wondered for a moment if he had walked into the wrong apartment. Wouldn’t be the first time. But no, that was definitely his garishly pink comforter. He glanced back at the kitchen where he found the distinctive chip in the linoleum by the sink. His drying rack still held one sad, solitary plate and a fork. (He had a dishwasher but never enough dinnerware to fill it with, so he ended up hand-washing on the days he had to microwave day-old take-out.) He turned back to B&E Girl and said, “Your apartment?” 

“Yes,” she said imperiously. “Now, if you don’t mind, please leave and we can forget this ever happened.” 

Baffled, Obi said, “Alright,” and silently shut the door. 

“What are you doing?” Yuzuri asked. Now that the door was closed and there was no one to peek in on, she made her way into his kitchen and helped herself to the chips he had stashed in the cabinet to the right of his fridge. 

Obi wondered how she unerringly found his food as he floundered for a response.

“Are you really going to let her take over your place like that?” Yuzuri asked. “You’re gonna let her be a squatter?” 

“There’s no chance you’re going home, is there?” 

“And miss this show? Absolutely not.” 

She grabbed a sparkling water from the fridge Zen left behind the last (and only) time he’d visited, made a disgusted face, then carried it and the pilfered chips back to his couch to settle in. 

Obi sighed. It was his fault for making friends at work. 

Now for what to do about the girl sequestered in his room. He racked his brain trying to remember if he’d met her somewhere before, but he was positive the effort was moot. He made a point to remember beautiful women who might end up in his bed. The only other girl he could think of was some new person set to start on Monday. Zen had called about her in advance. Obi, take care of this one. She’s special. 

“Shirayuki?” Obi ventured with a single, gentle knock at the door to let her know he was talking to her.

There was a pause from the other side, long enough that Obi figured he had it wrong, before Shirayuki said, “I have a knife,” with the barest hint of a tremor. She didn’t deny it and she was clearly scared, which meant he was right and she wanted to know how he knew that. Probably. Like, he was good at reading people but reading their voices were kind of a crapshoot. 

Despite the poor girl’s fear, he couldn’t help but joke, “Well, I’m generally pretty good at dodging those.” 

The end of his sentence morphed into an, “Hey,” as Yuzuri pelted him with a Dorito. 

“She’s scared, you idiot,” Yuzuri stage-whispered at him after the third chip hit him directly between the eyes. 

“She broke into my apartment and threatened me with a knife. Why aren’t I allowed to be scared?”

“You just said you can dodge those.”  

“Go. Home.” He turned back to the door and said, “Zen told me you’d be coming. Asked me to keep an eye out for you. I’m Obi.” 

“Obi?” A pause. “The messenger?” 

“Not for about four years now, but yep, that’s me.” 

Zen tended to forget little things like the passage of time. Obi hadn’t been a messenger in quite some time. Kiki had been married for two years. And yet, Zen was suspended in a sort of arrested development in which they were all still 21 and saw each other all the time. It was sweet in a way. It made spending time together challenging because I just saw you last month (it had been closer to six the last time he’d used that excuse), but when they did manage to find time to hang out it was like nothing had changed. He was still a workaholic. Obi was still a workaholic. Zen still blushed so prettily when Obi called him nice names. It was a bit of same-ness he could always count on, which was simultaneously pleasant and suffocating after a lifetime of personal upheavals and reinventions. 

He heard the creak of his bedsprings, a soft padding of feet on his floors, and then she was there. She opened the door a crack and eyed him skeptically. 

“You know Zen?” she asked. 

Obi nodded. “We go way back.” He pointed over to Yuzuri, who was watching this all unfold with open curiosity. “That’s Yuzuri. Seems like you two will be working together soon.” 

Shirayuki opened the door just far enough to stick her head out and peer over at Yuzuri. 

“Hi, squatter,” Yuzuri said with a wave. 

“Are you the botanist?” Shirayuki asked. 

“Yep! Well, one of them.” 

Shirayuki’s eyes went wide as she opened the door all the way and said, “I am so sorry.” 

“Ah,” Obi said. “She finally believes us.” 

“I thought-“ she cut herself off. “But then I was the one- oh no, I threatened you.” 

Obi shrugged. “It’s fine. You didn’t actually hurt me. Unless you’re planning to stab me with one of those knives you’ve apparently got hidden on your person.” 

Slowly, she admitted, “I don’t actually have a knife.” 

He bit down on a smile and said, “You don’t say.” 

“Wait,” Yuzuri said. “I still don’t get how you got in.” 

“Yeah, how did you?” Obi asked. He was absolutely positive he’d locked his door. He’d also arranged a throw blanket over the safe in one of his bottom kitchen cabinets and folded it just so so that he’d be able to tell if anyone broke in and tried to, well, break in. (Old habits died hard.) 

“I have a key?” Shrayuki’s voice rose slightly at the end, like even she was second-guessing her story at this point. She physically shook her head, strode across the room to her purse sitting on the little useless table by the front door, grabbed her keys, and held up one of them. “Here. I’ll show you.” 

And show she did. The key went in the lock and turned the deadbolt without any force or jiggling. Like it was made exactly for that slot. 

“Why would the complex give you a key to my apartment?” Obi asked, baffled. 

Shirayuki looked back at him, clearly at an equal loss. She said, “Maybe they got confused like I did and gave me the wrong floor? I mean, I know that’s not how numbers work, but people make mistakes.”

“Mistake or not,” Yuzuri said, “we should check out your apartment and see if you can get in.”

“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you. I’ll be fine.” 

Obi snatched her keys out of her hands on his way out the door and said, “Come on, criminal. I’m in this now, too.”  

As they descended the stairs, Obi said, “I think I know what happened. I did the same thing when I moved in. Startled the old man above me pretty good walking right in on him. The landlord says our floors are numbered the European way, but I think the builders messed up and he didn’t want to pay to fix it. The first floor is Floor Zero. You live in 208 but it’s only-” he gestured upward, “-one set of stairs up.” 

“Oh, like in France,” Yuzuri said. 

“Have you ever been to France?” 

“No.” 

 “Yuzuri.” 

“What? I’ve never been to Egypt either but I know what the Pyramids look like.” 

“I think she’s right,” Shirayuki said. “It is the way French buildings are numbered.” 

Betrayed within seconds. 

“Fine,” Obi said with a dramatic sigh, “but it’s still stupid because we’re not in France or Europe, so no one really gets the floor layout and it causes misunderstandings like this. Though it doesn’t explain the key thing because my key definitely didn’t work on the old man’s door.” He’d tried his key and found the knob turned even as his key didn’t. Turned out, Obi had just happened to come by during the short minute between the old man coming home with arms full of groceries and setting them down to have a free hand to lock up for the night. 

It turned out fine. He and Gerald play gin rummy on Thursday nights now. 

Finally, they made it to Shirayuki’s actual apartment door and confirmed that both her key and his unlocked her door. The three of them tilted their heads slightly to the right and said, “Huh.”

“Well, that’s not safe,” Obi said after a beat. 

“No,” Shirayuki and Yuzuri said. 

“Okay,” Obi said, wriggling his key off its ring. “I’m reasonably sure it’s just our apartments after my run-in with the fella above me, so why don’t you take my key as insurance I won’t burst in on you unexpectedly. I’ll call the landlord and have him change my locks.” He held out his newly-freed key, but she just frowned at it. 

“How will you get into your apartment?” 

“Not sure.” He shrugged. “I’ll find a way. It’s good, though. Keeps my skills sharp.” He waved his key tantalizingly in front of Shirayuki’s face. When she still refused to take it, he grabbed her hand and placed it into her palm. “If I really need my key back, I will find you.” 

“Don’t feel too bad,” Yuzuri said. “I once watched him scale the side of the building at work just because he was bored. He’s a freak. You’ll be providing a service.” 

Her fingers slowly closed over the key. Satisfied she wasn’t going to drop it or toss it back at him, he let his hand fall back to his side and gave her back her personal space. 

“How will you find me?” Shirayuki asked. “You know, if you really need to get your key back?” 

“He’ll be fine,” Yuzuri promised. “You’re just giving him the excuse he’s always wanted to shimmy up the drain pipe or whatever he daydreams about doing.” 

“First of all, drain pipes are flimsy and horrible for climbing.” He only made that mistake…seven times. “Second of all, we work together now. I’ll find your desk.” 

“Oh. Right.” 

Shirayuki frowned like she still wasn’t completely convinced. It was fair; she’d never met Obi before and therefore had no idea that Yuzuri was right (not that he would ever admit that out loud) and he was actually pretty excited at the prospect of not being able to get into his apartment the conventional way. He was just trying to decide if he should offer to let her watch him scale the east side of the building when she asked, “Do you have a phone?” 

“Like, in general, or…” 

She gave him a look that said she was not in the mood to be messed with. It was such a shame (for her) that it made him want to do it more. 

“On you,” she clarified. 

“Ah. No.” 

“Right.” 

She nodded and pulled a pen out of her purse, then dragged his hand up to about chest height and started writing something on his palm. He was caught so off-guard that he almost tripped over himself, but managed to keep his feet planted just in time. Unlike when he’d grabbed her hand earlier, her grabbing his effectively pulled him in close enough that his chest was almost touching her shoulder. He was definitely close enough to smell her hair, which was pretty creepy and he very much wished he didn’t know she smelled like some kind of flower with just a hint of spice. He also wished Yuzuri would stop staring at him with her eyebrows raised, but the universe was apparently not taking his hopes and dreams into consideration tonight. 

“Use that if you need your key back,” she said as she released him from her grasp. He lifted his hand to find eleven numbers written in a delightfully messy scrawl. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. He gave her a lazy salute, certain he would absolutely never use her number.

“I mean it,” she said, gaze serious and commanding. “I’m not letting you leave without a way into your home.” 

This time when he said, “Yes, ma’am,” he meant it a little more. He’d probably never use it, but maybe he’d put it in his phone. Or write it on a post-it before it washed off in the bath. If anything, it would be a sweet reminder of the nice girl who didn’t know him at all but was still clearly worried about him anyway. 

*****

Later, when he managed to finally ditch Yuzuri (he walked her to the station and made sure she got on her train safely), scale the building via fire escape (boring), and face plant into his bed (nice), he found his pillow smelled different. Lightly floral with the barest hint of spice. It took him a moment to trace the scent back to its source, but he grinned when he did. I had your girl in my bed last night was quite the opener for an email back to the boss, and he couldn’t wait to send it. 

[another-miracle]

“Psst! Here, Obi! Do the thing!”

Obi glances behind him, eyes narrowing towards the voice. Suzu waves his clipboard frantically at him from behind the curtain, gesturing wildly. It’s dark backstage and the stage lights are way too bright for comfort to truly know what exactly Suzu wants.

Obi squints and sees Suzu positioning his two hands in front of him...and pulling them towards his face? Ah. Well. Obi roughly gets what the guy wants him to do, but- seriously? This is his best friend’s girlfriend- or soon-to-be girlfriend - right there. What the hell is he thinking?

Suddenly, a mop of pale azure hair pops out from behind him and Obi bears witness to one of Yuzuri’s infamous scheming grins. Ah- that would explain Suzu’s desperate pleas. Obi wouldn’t want to seed that ground either.

He turns back to Shirayuki, who at this point is probably a hundred shades of confused judging by the twitching of her brow and downturn of her mouth. Obi sighs. It’s not that he doesn’t want to- god knows how many times he’s imagined this moment- it’s... just not...ideal. Not that he has any room for complaints, the chances of this happening ever again are probably zilch.

Resisting the urge to scrub a hand down his face, Obi tugs at the cape around his neck threatening to put him in a chokehold. It’s just acting, he can do this, he can be professional- even if he finds the idea of kissing a girl while she’s asleep all kinds of wrong and creepy.

Taking a deep breath, he bites out his next lines, “O fair maiden! What ailment has been inflicted upon thee? Alas, it seems only a kiss would wake the fair lady! If not I, then no one else!”

Obi braces himself over Shirayuki’s “sleeping” face and slowly lowers himself toward her. Irritatingly, at the corner of his eye, he can see Yuzuri excitedly slapping Suzu’s arm repeatedly. Below him, Shirayuki takes in a quick intake of breath. In that instant, his heartbeat quickens and Obi is suddenly extremely aware of the flush that has overtaken Shirayuki’s face and down her neck. Slowly, he moves toward her, going closer and closer-

A hand is abruptly pushed up against his nose.

“Aw, Yuki! You ruined it!”

Shirayuki swiftly sits up, hair fluffed in different directions. Her eyes zero in on Yuzuri who has her hands outstretched in supposed-indignation. “This was just a rehearsal! And Obi’s just a stand-in for Zen! You shouldn’t force him to do anything he doesn’t want to!”

Loud jeers sound in response. Shirayuki’s frown only deepens.

“Aw Miss,” Obi tilts his head away from where her hand is still pushed against his face. “I wouldn’t say I didn’t want to.”

Shirayuki turns on him with the most deadpan expression he’s seen on her, and Obi can’t help but cower with a sheepish grin.

“And you,” she admonishes, fingers pinching his cheek. “Don’t just listen to what those two have to say. They’re the directors, but again- this is just a rehearsal.” She emphasizes the last word in the direction of backstage. Yuzuri sticks out her tongue in response and then proceeds to drag Suzu away to some other corner of the stage.

Shirayuki gives a huff of annoyance, fringe flying, and Obi laughs. He stands up then offers his hand to her. She looks up at him, irritation still high on her cheeks, but takes his hand anyway.

“Don’t be too hard on them,” Obi tells her, pulling her to standing. “They just want to have some fun before the real main star shows up.” And to take a jab - and a terrible one at that, if he’s honest- at being his wingmen apparently.

Shirayuki’s hands land on her hips, looking every semblance the mother to their friend-group she seems to be. “It’s all fun and games now until someone gets hurt.”

Obi laughs, a hand going up to his shoulder, heart giving a painful throb. “Yeah, well, that’s what we have you here for, no?”

Shirayuki glances at him from the side. “Someone has to hold the brain cell, I suppose.”

A burst of laughter explodes past his lips, and Obi takes in the way Shirayuki’s pleased smile only grows wider. God, it’s endearing how proud she is of a silly joke like that. Recovering from his laughing spiel, he nudges her side.

“C’mon,” Obi says, arms crossing at the back of his head. “Let’s go see what else they’re up to before they hurt themselves again.”

A loud crash sounds from downstage. Obi and Shirayuki look at each other.

She muffles a giggle behind her palm, and Obi coughs out a bark of laughter of his own.

“Too late.”

[authenticaussie]

11. Scar kiss? MarcoxAce? (do you accept any ship? owo)

Yeah I do!!! Got it written in my FAQ (damn that feels Professional lol) that I write for basically any pairing that tickles one’s fancy~ The only thing I don’t write is nsfw content /u\ Sor for taking so long btw,,, ;n; I’ve been really Busy trying to catch up on work this week, ‘cause I don’t have classes. Anyway, please enjoy!! ♡♡

Marco woke to the sensation of lips pressed to the top of his spine, Ace’s fingertips pressed restlessly into the curve of his hip. 

“Are you awake, now?” he heard Ace whisper, and gave a tired grunt of agreement, swinging an arm over his eyes.

“Now I am, yoi.” Marco said, and felt Ace’s lips stretch into an apologetic grin.

“Sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“Little bit sorry?”

“Sure,” he said, and Ace’s grin grew wider on his skin, teeth brushing the back of Marco’s neck. With a mumble, Marco rolled over, arm swinging over Ace’s side to bring him in closer. “What’re you doing awake?” he asked, voice low in tiredness, and Ace sighed, giving a small shrug. 

“Couldn’t sleep. Wanted to- I dunno. Do something?”

“’Something’ being bothering me till I woke up?” Marco said teasingly, and Ace rolled his eyes, petulantly sticking his tongue out. Then, his expression turned pensive, and he looked to the curve of Marco’s arm, sighing again.

“I was- trying to find scars.”

Marco blinked, his hand sliding across Ace’s back till he could cup Ace’s jaw and make him turn. “Why were you-?” he asked questioningly, and Ace’s eyes refused to meet Marco’s own.

“Just-” he mumbled softly, “I forget, sometimes. That you don’t- have any. I was trying to- compare, I guess, but I- and I mean, it’s dumb, it should make me feel better that you don’t have any, shouldn’t it? That you don’t- get hurt-”

Ace’s jaw pressed into Marco’s fingertips as he dropped his head, and he took a deep, shuddering breath, fist clenched against Marco’s abdomen. “I have- so many more scars than you. They’re so- And then you- you’re just?” he let out a tiny, useless laugh, then quickly bought up his hand to cover it, as though afraid to break the early morning silence. “Do you heal from everything?”

“Anything I choose.” Marco said softly, and Ace nodded, his throat bopping as he swallowed, eyes half shut. “I don’t- choose all of them, though, Ace. I have scars that remind me of where I came from…of where I’m going.” He gently pushed open Ace’s clenched fist, drawing it up to the start of his tattoo and letting Ace’s fingertips brush the straight lines of blue ink. “This is a scar, technically. And it’s a proper one. One I’ll never erase no matter what, yoi.”

“Even if the memory’s too painful?” he whispered, fingertips pushed against Marco’s chest, and Marco lay his palm atop Ace’s hand, flattening it to his skin.

“The family I choose could never cause me pain enough to make me want to forget them.”

“Even if-”

“Never.” Marco repeated, his hand gently squeezing Ace’s. “Family is something you will never forget, no matter how painful carrying their memories becomes.”

Ace’s thumb brushed his tattoo, skimming just below Marco’s collarbones, and Marco felt the moment Ace found the jagged edges of scars beneath his tattoo. He paused, hands tracing down the straight line of blue ink, fingers barely dipping on the undetectable lattice.

“I won’t forget where I came from, yoi.” Marco answered in response to Ace’s unasked question, and Ace’s hand before it slowly began to move up again, stopping just above Marco’s chest. 

Ace frowned momentarily, his hand tracing another outline burnt into Marco’s skin, and Marco caught his hand, pressing a kiss to Ace’s knuckles. “I won’t forget where I want to go, either.”

“And where is that?” 

“Anywhere you are.” Marco said, and watched as Ace smiled slowly, lips twisted at the edges. 

Ace leaned forwards, pressing his smile to the scar he’d been investigating, and Marco let out a slow, deep breath.

“Where’s this one from?” Ace asked softly, lips above Marco’s heart, and Marco carded his hand through Ace’s hair, smile rueful.

“You.”

[rekutopia]

In which Shirayuki came home to a surprise (part 2)

A part of the Flatmate AU (one, two, three, four, five, in accidental order)

“So tell me, girl, what happened?”

Yuzuri gazed closely at her friend. Shirayuki still appeared rather distressed but at least she seemed warm sitting on her bed of thousand pillows while tucked comfortably under her fluffy blanket. She had on Yuzuri’s pink pyjamas and woollen socks in rainbow colours. In her hand, she was holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate. She had also taken a hot shower and Yuzuri had fed her with sweet pumpkin soup – from the can, but hey, she showed up at very short notice.

Her friend lifted her chin slightly up and looked her in the eyes. Yuzuri could almost see the gears turning inside her head, weighing whether and how to explain whatever it was that turned her from a very happy muffin to a sad, miserable one in a course of only a couple of hours. She inhaled deeply and opened her mouth.

“Obi was having sex with Aki when I got home so I panicked and decided I couldn’t stay and went to your place instead,” she said in one long breath.

Yuzuri blinked. “Um. Okay.”

Shirayuki sighed and placed the mug on the bedside table. Then she shifted and hugged both her knees, resting her head on them. “It’s fine, Yuzu, you can say it.”

“Say what?”

“‘I told you so’”.

There might have been a small pool of tears slowly forming on her friend’s lower lashes. Before Yuzuri could get a better look Shirayuki nuzzled her face on her own knees, wiping them away. “I’m so stupid, Yuzu. I know I can’t fall for him. And look at me now.”

Yuzuri scooted closer and pulled Shirayuki carefully into a tight hug. “Oh honey, you’re not stupid. No one can forbid you to fall in love with Obi, not even yourself.” She tried to free her friend’s wet face from a couple of loose red strands. “Besides, Obi’s such a lovely person, and you’ve been living together with him since what, 3 years? It’s no wonder you fell for him.”

“Only a stupid girl fell in love with her gay best friend,” snorted Shirayuki into Yuzuri’s shoulder.

“Well, yea, that is, like, one of the saddest things that could happen to a girl,” Yuzuri said and earned a pinch on her thigh.

“Thank you very much.” Shirayuki half glared at her and half wiping her tears.

“But girl, when we talked about this before I thought you said you were, what was it? Toughing up yourself and building a mental barrier against his charm? Whatever happened to that?”

Shirayuki looked at her friend sheepishly. “Mmh, it...didn’t really work, I suppose. The charm is too strong...”

Yuzuri raised an eyebrow and gave the other girl a suspicious look. “Yea, we both know how strong his charm is. Especially with all the special treatments you’ve been getting lately, what with the case and all.”

Though Yuzuri was slightly amused from how her senior pharmacist reacted, she couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for her. It's not like you can stop yourself from falling in love. And it’s hard enough when the other person didn’t reciprocate your feelings, let alone when it was impossible from the beginning – unless they could somehow stay in platonic love. But knowing Shirayuki, she has already passed the platonic stage from the first year.

Yuzuri kissed the top of Shirayuki’s head fondly. “I’m so sorry, Yuki. I wish there’s anything I could say or do to make you feel better.”

Shirayuki shook her head. “I’m already feeling better, thank you, Yuzu. I’ll be alright soon.”

“Shall we go to sleep? You’ll feel much better in the morning.”

Shirayuki nodded and buried herself deeper between the pillows, curling into a ball. Beside her, Yuzuri crawled inside the blanket and turned off the light while wishing her good night.

----

The clock on the dresser showed its glowing cypher. It was already 02:11 but it didn't seem like sleep was coming to visit her anytime soon. Except for the clock the room was pitched black. Shirayuki was not used to sleep in a room without any lights at all. Despite her drawn curtains lights from outside her window could still seep in. Yuzuri’s flat has light-blocking blinds and she always let them fall completely.

The darkness was not the only thing that kept her awake. Her mind was playing the scenes that happened since she entered her flat over and over again.

The happiness when she smelled Obi’s cooking. The arousal when she heard Obi’s erotic moans. The dismay when she heard Aki’s voice. The way everything was like a blur before she arrived at Yuzuri’s place.

It was only after she took a shower and had dinner that she recovered from her daze. She could even pull herself together and texted Obi to let him know she was not coming home tonight. His answer was sweet, unmeddling but not without worry, as usual.

If it weren’t for Yuzuri lying beside her, Shirayuki would have groaned and smacked herself.

Stop thinking about Obi!

But she couldn’t. And if she could be truly honest with herself, she didn’t want to. In her mind, an invisible hand kept opening drawers after drawers of memories of him, from the ones still freshly filled to the ones she tried to lock up and forget.

It started by presenting her all the things they did together – all the things he did for her – from the moment he came into her life. It was all Yuzuri’s fault, now that she thought of it. If it wasn’t for her, she’d never met him. She would probably be living alone in a tiny apartment somewhere outside of Munich and she would have to commute to work but she would be happy instead of broken-hearted–

Shirayuki stopped her thought at that point. Considering her disastrous history with men, there was no guarantee that some other guy wouldn't break her heart then, if not worse. Besides, she was happy. Living with Obi was the best thing that could ever happen to her. He brought her out of her shell. He showed her things and took her to places she didn’t even realise existed – like that one LGBT bar in their neighbourhood. Yes, a very sexy girl with very little on had almost kissed her and she was trying not to freak out the whole time but they had a good laugh after that and it was another exciting experience Shirayuki could file in her book. A book she would probably not even possess if not for Obi.

She sighed inwardly. Some mental barrier I’ve been building. Might as well crumble it down.

And so Shirayuki gave up trying not to think about her flatmate. She allowed herself to feel the tightness on her chest with every bit of memory she pulled out of her mental drawers. She surrender herself willingly in the warmth and pain that came with them.

The way his smirk turned into a kind smile when he noticed her embarrassment after his teasing, and how he always stopped before they turn into something mean.

The way his tired eyes lighted up whenever he came home from a late shift and found she was still reading in the living room.

The way their legs were tangled together whenever they watched a movie on the couch, a popcorn bowl between their thighs.

The way his front touched her back lightly each time he reached for the cupboard above her while cooking, enveloping her with his scent even for just a few seconds.

The way he placed his chin on her shoulder when he demanded her to shift her attention from the screen to him–

–All those sweet little things did not belong to her. Not anymore. Maybe they had never been. 

And that was when Shirayuki forced herself to break her line of thought before her mind could show her even more of things that made her long for her best friend. Stupid, mundane things, such as the way drops of water fell from the tips of his dark hair to his tanned bare shoulders after a shower.

Shirayuki did not wish for Obi to be her boyfriend. She knew it was useless to wish for something impossible. But during the time they lived together, Obi had never been in any romantic relationships – at least none she was aware of. It gave her the illusion that he would never be in one. That he would always be her Obi, whatever that even meant.

She bit her lip and choked back the tears that were threatening to fall again. She should not make Yuzuri more worried. It’s not like there’s anything she could do about this. She just had to face the fact – she was in love with Obi. And Obi was with Aki. Hers was a love that was destined to wither before it had even the chance to bloom. She knew it from the start so there was no point in crying now.

Tonight. Only tonight she would allow herself to wallow in sorrow. Tomorrow she would lock her feelings away in the deepest corner of her heart. She would do her best to forget about her love for her flatmate. That Zen Wisteria had invited her for dinner to celebrate GG Pharmacy’s victory. Might as well be their first date. She couldn’t deny she was also curious about the guy and it would be a perfect reason to keep her mind off Obi.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be a new day.

*****

Aki wiped the small towel carefully over Obi’s back, taking extra care where beads of sweat had slightly pooled between his shoulder blades and on his venus dimples. The leaner guy was lying face down on the futon, spent. Though his breath was no longer laboured, he was still inhaling and exhaling deeply, trying to relax his muscles. 

“Feel better?”

Obi shifted gradually to a sitting position, moving his shoulders back and forth in circular motions, then twisting his upper body left and right to check his lower back. “Yea, the pain’s all gone.” He took a last deep breath, cracked his neck once, twice, and grinned at his friend. “You’re the best, Aki-chan, thanks.”

“No, thank you,” Aki grinned back mischievously, slapping the towel on Obi’s hip. “At least now I have an idea of how you’d sound in bed since you never gave me the opportunity to find out.”

Obi snorted and threw a cocky smirk at the other man. “I’ll let you know I’d sound much better then.”

“I’ll believe it when I hear it, love.”

Obi’s smirk dropped to a frown. “You should really stop calling me that.”

Aki sighed and held both hands up. “My bad. Hard habit to break,” he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s just so easy to call you that, but I get it. Friends don’t call each other ‘love’,” he said in a mocking voice, making air quotes. Then he reached out to Obi and pinched the other man’s chin yearningly. “It was still the best two months of my life, though sex would’ve made it even more unforgettable.”

Obi huffed and yanked his head free. He was used to Aki’s teasing. He’s had a fair share of his own. When Obi met him at the beginning of the year he thought the guy could be someone compatible for him and admittedly, the time when they were together was fun, albeit short.

“Have you at least made a progress with the little redhead?” Aki’s voice startled him from his musings.

“What?” he squawked, not expecting the turn in the conversation. While Obi had taken his time to think about whether his relationship with Aki didn't fail because of his, apparently, inextinguishable pining for his flatmate, it had absolutely nothing to do with Shirayuki’s own feelings towards him. Which, in a romantic way, was simply non-existing.

“I told you she doesn’t like me that way,” Obi said, pulling his black, long-sleeved shirt back on while deliberately avoiding Aki’s gaze. “I’m just fulfilling my role as a supportive friend. She’s been having a hard time at work.” Then he looked up as he heard the other man’s scoff.

“Oh come on, have you never noticed the way she looks at you?” Aki groaned and his eyes rolled to the sky when he saw Obi’s blank expression. “And here I was hoping that my sacrifice would bring you golden-eyed, red-haired babies soon,” he mumbled disbelievingly.

Obi gave his friend a crooked smile. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you.” But my feelings are my own responsibility. He opted to change the subject instead. “Could I offer you dinner, as a thank-you for your service?”

Aki curled up his lips in anticipation. “Depends on the menu.”

“Obi’s special black pepper tofu”.

“...Tofu?” Aki wrinkled his nose. Then he grinned and leaned closer to the other man. “I’d rather have you instead.”

Obi yelped and jerked away as Aki went for his ear with his teeth.

----

Only after Aki had left did Obi concern himself with the fact that Shirayuki was not yet home. This was highly unusual. Did she have an emergency order? Did she say she would come home late and he just forgot? Obi checked his phone but only saw his mother’s orange tabby glaring back at him from the lock-screen. Nope, no new messages.

When his shift changed unexpectedly today, Obi decided to use his free time to surprise Shirayuki. The general temperature had dropped today and he thought Shirayuki might like to come home to a hot meal. He chose the only spicy dish in his repertoire that her tongue could take and even substituted the beef with tofu, for obvious reasons.

Making a mental note to call his flatmate, Obi went to the kitchen and started heating up his dinner. It was already past eight and his stomach was growling. He was about to dish the plate when his phone buzzed.

[Little Miss, 20:16] Hi Obi, I'm sorry I didn't text you sooner. Something came up at work. It’s going to take a while until we’re finished, so I’m gonna stay at Yuzuri’s place tonight. See you tomorrow.

Obi frowned. It must have something to do with that case again. And there he thought the matter was slowly coming to an end and that the pharmacy ladies could finally take a breather. Oh, well. He eyed the food in the wok ruefully.

[Me, 20:17] it’s ok sweetie *smile emoji*

[Me, 20:17] say hi to yuzuri *wave emoji*

[Me, 20:17] tell her to make you dinner *pasta emoji*

[Me, 20:17] too bad you miss my black pepp–

Obi paused for a moment, then hit the backspace and deleted the last one. No need to make the little miss feel guilty about his surprise.

[Me, 20:17] take care

[Me, 20:18] don’t work too hard *winking kiss emoji*

[claudeng80]

Babylon 5 AU: Shirayuki, Obi, and a bit of lace

Last Best Hope, Ch. 5

It’s far from the first time Obi’s been in a spaceport with Shirayuki. So many times he sat with her at the arrivals lounge on B5, waiting for the first glimpse of Zen’s pale hair to come bobbing through the crowd or standing at the windows watching yet another ship disappear into the wormhole. He knows all too well what her sadness at parting feels like, how much she aches when she’s left behind.

He never imagined a time when those feelings would be his fault.

The Minbari aren’t big on sullying their public architecture with distractions, but perhaps as a concession to the humans in their midst, a screen plays IGN quietly in the background. It’s probably best that Obi can’t hear the words, although the odds of the message having changed are slim, but over and over they’re playing that same picture of Zen, that same stock clip of Clarines dome. It’s just like every other colony Earth’s ever put together; nobody cares until something goes wrong.

And something’s really wrong now. He can’t tell from the news what exactly Mitsuhide has dragged Zen into, but if it’s more than just internal power struggles, if all the hints he’s seeing are right and there are Narns involved-

He needs to be there.

“It’s not fair that you have to go,” Yuzuri growled at him when she found out. She’s the only good thing to come out of Earth’s gravity well, in Obi’s experience. Pushier than a Centauri, a bit possessive, but good people in spite of it. She’ll keep an eye on things while he’s gone.

But Shirayuki couldn’t let that stand, no matter how disappointed she was. “He works for Zen, not me.” The look on her face may have been directed through hyperspace to a certain ambassador, but it didn’t stop Obi from feeling just as guilty.

She’s still frowning now, here in the spaceport, all her objections long since having been argued into begrudging acceptance. He has to fill the silence. “I’ll be back as soon as the situation is cleared up.” No way would Zen have let Mitsuhide get into that kind of trouble all by himself, so that means two of them in the deep dust together. Obi’s got chills just picturing it.

The security gate lights flash on, the transport now ready for boarding. He’s flying Minbari, so the other passengers are all lined up neatly with their documents ready. He’ll be the last up the ramp; humans have a reputation to uphold, after all. 

The line shrinks in silence. It’s down to the last three or four, just about time to make his way over, when Shirayuki’s hand fists in his coat. She looks startled when he stops and looks down, like she didn’t really expect that to work, but she should know he always answers her commands. He’s never known her to be needy; for someone who’s had so little to her name for so long, she lets things go easier than anyone else he’s ever known. But her other hand grasps for his, fingers sliding safely against his glove until she can grab and squeeze. One line of her skin teases the uncovered part of his palm, enough that he can taste her presence. Dangerous as it is, he doesn’t answer her aloud, just fills the space with reassurance and punctuates it with the cockiness that makes her roll her eyes. He’ll be fine, and he’ll be right back.

Breaking away is still a blow, but the security guard is looking impatient. Nothing can keep him away from her for long.

***

Maybe it’s telepathy and maybe it’s just routine, but Shirayuki feels Obi’s absence all the time he’s gone. There’s a hole where he should be, a missing piece in the world around her. She goes about her research as usual, prepping samples and running tests, because she’s enough just the way she is, she doesn’t need Obi there to go on.

But every minute she misses him.

She thinks for certain she’ll know when he’s back, that she’ll feel the moment he lands on Lyrias. Every time she hears the sonic boom of a transport breaking atmosphere, she tries to reach out for him, only to find nothing every time.

So she’s not expecting him across the square, coat unbuttoned and hair a shock of black against the colony’s unrelenting beige. Her feet are moving before she knows, an inexorable slide down the gravity well toward him, and he completes the orbit when she catches him. His hands lock around her ribs and she’s floating, spinning, complete again at last. When he meets her eyes, she knows for certain he feels the same.

The connection only lasts a second, then he’s putting her down, wincing and laughing at himself and looking everywhere but at her. His body pulls in on itself, uncertainty shot through with pain, and his fingers flex as though he’s been burned. She can’t leave him like that, and her hands cup his face, tilt it back into the sunshine. 

His eyes are wide as they meet hers again, but one thought rings clear through the static. Home. He’s home. That’s just what she wanted to hear, even as he pulls away from her fingers once more. “Welcome home, Obi,” she says. And because they’re in the middle of the street, she doesn’t say anything more about it. “Now come show me where you’re hurt.”

***

Obi makes to turn left out of the square, toward the medlab in the pharmacy complex, but Shirayuki pulls at his elbow to guide his path right instead. “I have a kit in my room,” she says, glancing back when his footsteps stutter. “It’s closer.”

“They took good care of me, I promise. You of all people know how competent the Babylon 5 medlabs are.” She doesn’t answer, just looks forward, but he can see the muscles in her jaw tense. “But you can get your hands on whatever will make you feel better.”

He’s still biting his tongue for having said something so suggestive and embarrassing when they reach the front door of her residence. Just a few days around Zen and Mitsuhide and he’s back out of the habits of restraint. That’ll need to change, fast. She holds the door, waiting for him to pass through into the room, and if it were anyone but her, he’d describe the look on her face as calculating. “Good,” she says, with no explanation.

The courtyard garden outside her windows is sunny and harmonious in the most Minbari of ways, balanced without any hint of symmetry or repetition. He’s no kind of connoisseur, but it’s very pretty. At least until Shirayuki dials the opacity up, reducing the scenery to cloudy invisibility.

It’s thoughtful of her, but Minbari have about as little care for bodily privacy as he does. Nobody’s going to be offended by Obi with his shirt off.

And to be perfectly honest, the wound is sensitive. The fabric of his shirt’s been scraping against the raw synth-skin for the entire trip, and it’s a relief to pull it off and let the patch air. He twists to toss the shirt over a chair, and when he turns back Shirayuki is already buzzing at the wound like one of the little pollinators from the greenhouse. She reaches out, fingertips hovering a bare centimeter above the synth-skin, then freezes and draws back, glancing up at his face. He nods.

Nothing she does is different than the medics that came before her. Her hands move in the same patterns, but the way they touch him-

She cares for him so delicately. Nobody else has ever treated him like he’s something breakable, and he likes it far too much. 

“I’m not that easy to get rid of,” he says, unable to bear the silence any longer, but it doesn’t ease the tension in her face. She doesn’t meet his eyes, just staring down at where his hands fold over his stomach. One last flicker of a glance, and her fingers are on his wrist, peeling at the glove. Even with her, it’s an effort to go along, not to clasp his fist tight and hang onto his armor. The reflex to protect himself is far too entrenched to set aside so easily.

He feels naked, his hand exposed with its stark tan-line and the white starburst left of the incident that ruined his last pair. He had to pick the burned shreds of that glove out of the wound himself; it was not an experience he ever cares to repeat. For once the sight of his scars doesn’t distract her, though. She spreads her palm against his, and out of the edge of his vision he can see her cheek curve at the difference in scale. The tips of her fingers fall a full joint short of his.

Shirayuki’s breath catches, and Obi tears his gaze away from where she touches him. She’s blocking, for once, her presence bright and comforting beside him but not full of thoughts. It’s comfortable enough for him, but unusual for her- “Is something wrong?”

She shakes her head no, hair swinging in curtains to hide her face. It’s grown so much since they’ve been here. It’s not a convincing answer, though, when she doesn’t meet his eyes, when she still stares down at their hands-

With a quick twist of her wrist, she meshes her fingers with his, pressing palms together even tighter. His hand clenches in response, something that must be left from his early childhood because he hasn’t held a hand like this since he can remember, and she drops her shields.

Obi’s vision narrows to a tunnel, a speck- there’s nothing in his world but Shirayuki, the beige planes of her room faded to nothing, no space left for the pain in his side and the awkwardness of being touched. His heart beats in concert with hers, quickening to match, and her mental voice echoes in his head like music in an empty room. “Stay.”

He’s naked before her, soul and nearly body, and it’s all he can do not to hand her his every secret on the spot. “Stay with me,” echoes in his soul, and it is just what he wants, everything he intends but he’s struck speechless. If he isn’t careful he’ll say he loves her, if he slackens the reins on his desires she’ll know.

So he answers her request in the narrowest possible way. “The others are all right,” he says, forcing the words through his mouth against the waterfall of her feelings. “You’ll see them soon,” he adds, and there’s a hitch in the flow at that. Her hand pulls away from his, a sudden muting of her presence that makes his breath stop, makes him whimper silently in the emptiness.

And then her hand threads into his hair, hot on the back of his neck, and he just wants to bask in the fondness and approval forever. He hasn’t felt this acceptance since Torou disappeared and he fled Mars with the Psicops at his heels, hasn’t felt like he belonged. Like he was someone wanted. Shirayuki pulls him in, wraps him up, and right now he could tell her anything and she’d forgive him.

And most of all, she means it all. She wants him to stay for good.

He doesn’t deserve this. “You’re dressed nice today. What’s the occasion?” Touching her sleeve is safer than letting her touch him, and her hand slips from his head as he steps back. It lets him catch his breath, pinching the lace drooping over her wrist. It’s an odd touch on the otherwise Minbari outfit. “Is this for me?”

***

Shirayuki wishes she could say yes. She thought that, mind to mind, Obi would understand what she wanted, that she wouldn’t have to say it. Apparently even for telepaths it’s not that easy. The lace from her sleeve slips through his fingers as she turns to the window. “There’s a banquet tonight to celebrate the naming of the new flower.”

“Oh, I missed it?” She can hear the slither of leather against skin as he puts his gloves back on. It’s like everything that just happened, everything she said was nothing to him.

“You can still come- you should come.” Obi might not have been the one running the machines and writing the reports, but he made sure they ate and saw sunshine. They couldn’t have done it without him.

She doesn’t know how she’d go on without him.

But she’s already begged him to stay, told him that he was home with her. She doesn’t know what more she can do to tell him short of pulling him down and kissing him. And that’s not an option she chooses, because she’s had her share of surprise kisses. Obi deserves better. With a tug, she straightens the lace at her wrists. It tickles, but Yuzuri had been so excited to find it in the market and so insistent. “It could have been for you, if I’d known you’d be back today.”

She turns back again to face him, and his expression shuts down the moment her eyes settle. There’s no way to tell what it was, and without the assistance of touch, she can’t feel a thing. He’s mentally closed down as tight as an airlock, and she doesn’t have the override code. Her hand itches to reach for his again, but his back rounds, his shoulders curving in, and she won’t invade his privacy like that. 

“I should go,” he says at last. “The transit was short enough I didn’t have time to sync my sleep schedule.” His yawn wouldn’t fool anyone, but even before she can organize her frustration into any sort of protest, he’s gone.

[k-itsmaywriting]

Adrift in the Snow (2/2) : Three Months

Shirayuki watched Obi’s back as he ran to into the training grounds. She could already see Obi’s sheepish smile when Makiri’s voice comically boomed in the morning air, even though she could see the trainees were still busy shoveling the previous night’s snow off the grass.

She turned toward the pharmacy and continued on her way, short-cutting through the snowy courtyards.

As she walked into the pharmacy, Suzu gave her a blank look. “Did your meatball soup send you into a food coma, Shirayuki? You’re five minutes late.”

Shirayuki grimaced. “Sorry, I was just…” with Obi, she doesn’t say. Well, not like Suzu would be particularly surprised, just mildly disappointed, probably. It was just that it wouldn’t have been a good excuse. Especially since the reason she was five minutes late and not two was because she was grabbing his face and…

She blinked. Oh, she really…she really just…

Kissed his nose. For no reason. Other than feeling overwhelmed with fondness for him.

Her face suddenly felt too hot for how cold it just was outside.

Suzu raised his eyebrow. “You were just…?”

Shirayuki shut her mouth tight. “Food coma. From the soup.”

She scurried past Suzu to throw herself to work before he could ask anything else.

——————–

The remaining winter is the longest two months Shirayuki has lived, yet once it passes, she is caught surprised.

She and Ryuu write to each other. It’s still strange to think he’s not by her side anymore and misses him dearly. But even so, she knows he’s thinking about them as much as they are him.

Otherwise, the days go by the same they did before. She has shifts in the pharmacy, she studies in the library and goes to Pavilion Market with her friends, and Obi is with her through it all, just like he always has been.

She doesn’t drift aimlessly anymore. Even though she’s still finding where forward is, there is ground beneath her feet where she can walk and wander knowing she’s surrounded by love. Knowing that even though home is where she and Obi are together, home is also in the snow and shadows between the pillars – where she knows the campus like the back of her hand. A place for both of them to stay and know there are others waiting for them.

It lets her wait for the storm clouds in her head to clear. To hang up the sun so she can see around her better. It is then that she truly sees, notices, and falls in love with the shadow that’s protective and forever present by her side no matter where she goes.

——————–

On the last night of the season, the market is crowded.

Waves of people cross the roads in all directions, yet as soon as they leave the academy gates, Kirito dives straight into the crowds. Suzu and Yuzuri fumble and chase after him, half-exasperated and half-excited to enjoy the market themselves.

Next to her, Obi chuckles. “Kirito’s always going to be that energetic, isn’t he?”

“We all love him for it anyway,” Shirayuki laughs. “Come on, let’s go catch up with them.”

She steps closer towards the crowd and purses her lip – the rush is so much bigger than usual. She looks at Obi over her shoulder, watching when he tilts his head in question.

Holding her breath, Shirayuki takes his hand in hers and pulls him along with her. She fixes her gaze forward onto Suzu’s blonde head bobbing in the crowd – he’s almost as easy to find in crowds as Mitsuhide – and tries not to think about how warm Obi’s hand is or how much she never wants to let go of it.

Every moment with Obi feels like ice thawing on the first morning of Spring. Warm and golden. But it’s strange – nothing about that feeling is new. But…but…

Ever since that morning she kissed his nose, every time he calls her Miss, she feels as though she’s just been kissed. Her heart feels warmer and warmer every single time he hands her a mug of hot tea or a bowl of chilli. Or wraps his arms around her and rests his chin on her head every time they sleep through a cold night together.

The warmth has become so much she hardly knows what to do. Like it’s about to burst out of her chest and all she can do is try to hold it all in, or else she’ll do something silly like kiss him again. Because that seems to be all she can think about these days.

“—iss….Miss!”

Shirayuki snaps out of her daze. She turns, apology already on her tongue because what was she even thinking. He can follow her without her holding his hand.

But Obi is pointing towards a stall a few metres where they just came from, and it takes Shirayuki a full three seconds to realise the others are standing there, while she’s brought him all the way to the fire in the town square.

She coughs, a blush high on her cheeks while Obi laughs. And the sound of it, brighter than she’s ever heard, makes her heart skip, as he holds onto his stomach. She can’t even be embarrassed anymore if something so little is making him laugh like that.

Obi snickers, “What? Are you cold—” He suddenly freezes when he turns to her – “…Miss?”

Something unreadable passes through Obi’s eyes, and it is only then that Shirayuki realises she’s smiling at him. Oh god. She feels heat rise from her neck. She must’ve been looking at him like she’s obviously—

“Shirayuki! Obi! There you are!”

They both jump, pulling their hands away from each other’s. Her gloves stick a little to the sweat on her palms, suddenly chilly against the winds that brush past.

Yuzuri bounds up to Shirayuki and pushes a hot mug of punch into her hands. “We thought you two were right behind us. Who knew you were already here?”

Shirayuki smiles sheepishly, taking a sip from the mug. “Sorry. I was sure I was following Suzu. But turns out it wasn’t actually him.”

Yuzuri chuckles. “Sure, tall and handsome blonde with foxy eyes. You can really find them everywhere here, can’t you?”

She’s about to ask what she means by that, but not before Kirito turns his head and seems to notice something about her. “Big Sis!” he yells, “Are you sick?”

Everyone looks at Shirayuki, and if she didn’t look sick before, she probably does now.

Yuzuri gently presses the back of her hand on Shirayuki’s forehead. “Woah, you do feel really warm. Did I accidentally give you an alcoholic punch?”

“I think so!” Shirayuki yelps as she grabs Yuzuri’s wrist. “Let’s go get another one!”

She has to stop herself from slipping on snow or barrelling right into a passerby as she escapes Suzu’s hold on, I might have the non-alcoholic one and Obi’s Miss, just give it to me!

She passes right by the nearest punch stall and instead pulls Yuzuri into an alley between two stores. There, she lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding in, watching it billow into the cold air above her.

Yuzuri plucks the mug out of Shirayuki’s hands and takes a sip. She gives her a flat look. “This is the alcohol-free punch.”

Shirayuki sighs, taking back the mug. “I…needed an escape.”

“An escape?” Yuzuri asks, narrowing her eyes. “From what?”

“From…” She thinks back to just a few moments before. The weight of Obi’s hand in hers, of her heart when she had made him laugh, of the air when they had looked at each other like they were at Lord Eisetsu’s dinner party all over again and…

Shirayuki’s heart hammers once in her chest, sparks flying through her. “Oh.” She looks down into her mug and tries to breathe. “Oh.”

Suddenly her head is clear. And before Yuzuri can ask, Shirayuki looks up at her again and says without an ounce of hesitation, “I’m in love with Obi.”

It feels natural saying it, feeling it. It all makes sense to her now.

Meanwhile, Yuzuri stumbles back and stares at Shirayuki like she had just slapped her in the face until the wheels in her head finish turning.

“You’re what?!"

Just as Shirayuki’s about to say it again, Yuzuri says, “Okay, now I know who you were escaping from.” She pauses, coughing into her fist. “I mean, took you long enough.”

Shirayuki’s jaw drops. “’Took you long enough’? What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Please,” Yuzuri snorts, “Everyone heard about what happened at Lord Eisetsu’s manor. Does pretending to be lovers ring any bells? Staring passionately into each other’s eyes?”

“Anyway!” Shirayuki interjects, hoping Yuzuri doesn’t notice her cheeks flushing in the dark. “It’s just…become so much that I don’t know what to do. I…I once felt so much for him at once over something really little that I even…” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “…I even kissed him.”

Yuzuri loudly inhales.

“On the nose!” Shirayuki squeaks. “And I didn’t even process it until I got to the pharmacy that morning!”

Yuzuri’s head is in her hand, and Shirayuki is unsure whether she’s laughing or hugely disappointed in her. Or both. Her hand scrubs down her face. “Shirayuki, you’re going to kill that boy. Or is he already dead? Do we know that? Have you at least talked about it? Because he’s going to convince himself it was all a dream if you don’t.”

“We haven’t,” Shirayuki confesses. “I don’t even know how we would. Not when he doesn’t feel the same.”

For some reason, that makes Yuzuri quiet. She narrows her eyes at her like any second now Shirayuki will tell her she was just joking. She’s not sure why, though, because even though she hasn’t exactly been thinking about whether he loves her the same way, she wasn’t joking. But she’s terrified of being right, nonetheless.

Yuzuri’s expression softens. “Well, as much as I want you to, I can’t make you tell him.” She sighs. “But if you’re ever really thinking about it, I think you know better than anyone where honesty and sincerity gets you. And when it comes to you two, it’s always a good place.”

Shirayuki smiles. “Thanks, Yuzuri.”

Yuzuri holds out her mug. “To being in love, I guess.”

They cheers to it.

——————–

As it turns out, no single time feels right to tell him.

Shirayuki knows that, logically, conversations about feelings have to be dragged up to the surface. They do not flow – she has to take a leap.

But sometimes she feels like she’s more ready to jump out of another tower than that.

So she tries to say I love you in other ways. She says it in her head every time she waves goodbye when they part ways just for the day, missing him until they see each other again in the evening. It’s in her voice when she calls his name and in all her ‘thank you’s, in the lingering stares and smiles she leaves for him when he’s not looking.

For a while, it’s enough for her. She’s happy with what they have. She doesn’t have to say the words to let it bring light and warmth into her small world, to hopefully return to Obi what he’s given her.

Until, of course, a time when the words are all she has to explain it.

——————–

Shirayuki’s unsure of just how many hours she’d spent in the library, but she’s certain that she does not want to go to bed until she’s found at least something on the latest swarm of insects that’s been targeting all their plants in the stockroom. She’s been searching since dinner, and if her grumbling stomach is any indication, it’s long past midnight.

She’s quite close to have searched every single book in the zoology section, save for the top corner by the far window. But she’s not done yet.

As she drags the nearest wooden ladder towards her, Obi says, “If that last corner is a no-go, it might be a good time to head to bed. Shidan did say he’s going to ask the zoology department about them tomorrow.”

“I know,” Shirayuki sighs as she begins climbing. “But it’d just be faster if we got to the bottom of the issue now. The first two times we found them, we thought it was our fault, but I’m really starting to think differently now that I found them again just this morning.”

“And in completely different boxes too. Think there’s a pattern between any of them?”

She slips a few books out of the shelves and checks their contents before cradling them in one arm. “Not at the top of my head. Though, it might be worth asking Yuzuri if she has any ideas.”

“The greenhouse has its work cut out for it this year, it seems,” Obi says. As Shirayuki twists to step down the ladder, Obi suddenly gasps. “Miss, don’t move—!”

It’s too late. Shirayuki drops her weight onto the rung beneath her and hears a thick snap. Her feet are on air, and then she’s falling. Her heart lurches to her throat like a scream as she reaches her hand out.

Obi is right there – his arms wrap around her waist and she presses her hands into his shoulders, barely steadying herself. He looks up at her right as her head falls forward, and their lips meet each other’s.

Shirayuki’s eyes widen just as Obi’s does. But they don’t break apart. Shirayuki fell and it’s absolutely ridiculous that they’re kissing now but so help her—

She closes her eyes and pushes all her weight into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. A small yelp escapes from Obi’s throat. Shirayuki suddenly opens her eyes, settles a hand back onto his shoulder and pulls away. “I’m so sorry, are you—"

Obi loosens his grip just so and Shirayuki’s feet tap onto the floor. He catches her gasp in an open-mouthed kiss, hands on her hips gently pulling her closer until her chest is pressed flushed against his.

Weak in the knees, Shirayuki lets herself fall – stumble back. Obi follows her, taking only a breath before kissing her again and again, even when her back is against the bookshelf and her foot knocks a book. Heat sparks and flares in her veins until she’s pulling him to her by the collar of his jacket and he’s humming sweetly against her mouth.

She wants him. And she wants him to know that…

“Obi…” Shirayuki breathes. She moves her hand from the back of his head to bracket his face, thumb resting right against his cheekbone as she pulls away. “I…I have to tell you something.”

Obi’s shoulders stiffen. He’s still so close but all of a sudden, he looks scared. Almost remorseful. For a moment Shirayuki feels him try to slip from her grasp, but stays just long enough to ask, “Wh-what is it?”

She breathes in deep, lets the air fill her chest as she braces herself. “I love you,” she says softly.

Obi freezes, eyes as wide as saucers. “Miss?”

“And I know that’s a lot,” Shirayuki gulps. “Because we’ve been together for so long but never like this. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same—"

“I love you too.”

Confession sits heavy in the air between them, weighing on both their hearts.

Shirayuki stares at him, unsure whether to smile or cry. “Really…?”

His eyes mirror hers, just as shocked as she is, and she can’t help but wonder why. He ducks his head, staring at the ground. “To tell you the truth, I’ve loved you for so long it’s harder to pinpoint a time when I didn’t.”

She tightens the grip of her fingers in his jacket. “Oh…”

So this is what Yuzuri meant.

His words play over and over again like an old tune in her head. Every single time she hears it, she sees another memory of him and wonders how she couldn’t have known. She wonders how many times he’s told her he loves her without the exact words the way she has.

She thought she couldn’t fall anymore, but seeing the way he looks now, vulnerability laid bare in the molten gold of his eyes, waiting, she realises she couldn’t be more wrong.

“Obi?”

“Yes?”

She takes another breath, tries to keep her voice stable despite how much her heart itself is shaking. “Will you call me by my name now?”

His mouth snaps shut as he turns his head to face her. His heart races beneath her hand, and he swallows. “If you want me to."

She smiles at him, and watches as pure, unfiltered light enters his eyes despite the dark of the library past midnight – it’s a good enough answer.

“Then I love you, Shirayuki.”

Shirayuki kisses him again. Softly and…and it feels right. It feels like breathing. Like kissing him is the most natural thing in the world and there is no one else who can make her feel the way he does. It feels like a new hello, goodbye and thank you, among a thousand other meanings that only they know.

He pulls away, and Shirayuki looks bashfully at the floor, cheeks hurting from how wide she’s smiling. “We should pick these books up and leave before we get kicked out.”

Obi laughs under his breath, giddy. “Okay.”

——————–

When the trees in the campus courtyards begin to bloom, Obi and Shirayuki are to leave for their second mission together.

“A mysterious illness has been spreading throughout the north-western region of Clarines,” Shidan explains. “There haven’t been any fatalities yet, but citizens have been reporting symptoms that raise some concerns for us. His Majesty Izana has asked for you two to visit the affected villages and find a cause, and hopefully a cure.”

Shirayuki blinks. “Only the two of us?”

“Wilant Castle is on the way.” Shidan smiles. “Ryuu will accompany you from there. We’ll be needing some of Clarines’ best, after all.”

She turns immediately to Obi by her side. She can see in the light in his eyes and the way he stands taller that she’s just as elated as she is.

Just one week later, they leave Lilias.

At the campus gates, Shirayuki pulls gently on her horse’s reins and looks back over her shoulder. The entire medical research department, Yuzuri, and Kirito stand in the doorway leading to the courtyard, waving goodbye under the early morning sun.

It’s everything she’s always wanted for all these years, she thinks. A place she can learn and pursue her passions every day, unafraid of any limits. A place to stay and to have people waiting for her no matter where she goes. Who she’ll wait for no matter where they go.

Shirayuki fights back her tears. She’ll be back home soon enough.

Obi is right by her side, waiting. “Ready, Shirayuki?” he asks.

She faces forward and stares down her next path. Determined.

“Yeah,” she says. “Let’s go.”

[thecatwhogrins]

Brought Back (Part 1) (Obiyukiweek19: Kindness)

Here’s my first entry for this Obiyukiweek! 

Please enjoy! :)

 Shirayuki woke up in a daze in the middle of the night. The clock indicated that it was three in the morning, not exactly what she would call a reasonable time to wake up. She rubbed her eyes and stared at her room, mystified.

Something had woken her up, but what?

As she started to settle back in, a loud banging noise wrecked the silence like a bulldozer.

Shirayuki clutched her sheets, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She shrugged into her bathrobe. The infernal sound was coming from her door. Shirayuki hoped that if she pretended that she wasn’t home, whoever it was would go away. Not only was this a very strange time to knock on someone’s door, but this also reminded her of all the terrifying stories Yuzuri had told her about people getting killed while they lived alone.

The loud banging started up again, even louder than before.

Resolution replaced her fear and she made her way to the door. She silently turned on her lamp. The person knocking wasn’t letting up, and the idea of having to call the police made the stone weigh heavier in her stomach. She shuffled towards the door, hoping any of the neighbors in the apartment complex would come out to see who was making all the racket, but no one came out.

She opened the peephole and saw a tall man with gray hair and a slight scar upon his cheek staring at the door angrily. She jumped when he suddenly yelled:

“Obi! I know you’re in there! Come out here, you son of a bitch!” the stranger looked almost out of his mind. Shirayuki thought he must be drunk.

“Sir, this “Obi” you’re looking for doesn’t live here,” she called out through the door carefully.

Just as the man spoke again, one of her windows started shaking slightly. Shirayuki watched with a dry mouth as a man opened it, folding himself into the frame and unfolding himself into her living room. He was tall as well, wiry, with spiky hair, his black shirt was stained with a liquid that surely wasn’t water and his face was more bruised than a WWE fighter, swallowing his strange eyes in a valley of purple tinges.

He did not notice her right away, as he groaned in pain and uttered a silent curse when his hand brushed his swollen face.

“God damn, he did not miss my face…” he did not finish his sentence once he noticed Shirayuki, who promptly squeaked in surprise and fear.

They stood, both frozen, waiting for the other to say something first. The man’s eyes slid over her apartment, taking everything in, from her libraries filled with books to the brim, to the cozy but run-down sofa, to the lacy drapes and vast array of plants that populated most of the free square inches.

“I’m sorry miss, it seems I’ve entered the wrong apartment,” the man said, his voice calm, as if not to induce any fear into her.

Only one incredulous thought raced through Shirayuki’s head in that moment:

“We’re on the fifth floor?” she answered, bewildered, all her anxiety exploding into that one sentence.

“Oh, it seems I’m your upstairs neighbor, I live on the sixth floor,” he tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace.

Their exchange was halted when another wave of knocking came from the other man, still abusing Shirayuki’s door.

“Oh great, he followed me. I’ll lead him away, don’t worry. Sorry for… all of this,” he gestured vaguely around himself and winced as the man pounded at the door, hollering.

He bypassed her, as she stood there, trembling, but her curiosity was now blooming since the man didn’t seem to want to hurt her. Shirayuki gathered her courage and asked softly:

“Is… Is that man trying to hurt you?”

Obi seemed to pause for a moment, thinking.

“Yes… He is,” he answered, his eyes holding hers, as if to convey that he wasn’t lying. Shirayuki nodded her head resolutely and walked to the front door. This could be the worst mistake of her life, but the man didn’t seem like he wanted to hurt her, whereas the one on the other side of the door looked much more threatening.

She opened the door slightly, keeping the chain still in place, preventing the man from opening it any further.

“Hel… Hello, it seems you’ve come to the wrong apartment. Please leave, if you continue, someone might call the police…” Shirayuki looked up at him for a split second and the face she saw wore a mask of confusion and irritation.

“Ma’am, is Obi here? I saw him…” he insisted, his eyes trying to peer behind her slight silhouette, into her house.

“I don’t any person by that name, you’re mistaken sir. Now please… Please leave,” Shirayuki tried to sound as intimidating as possible.

The man glared at her. Then, with one last glance at her flat, he turned away, grumbling, towards the staircase. Shirayuki’s legs were shaking so bad she thought she might fall to the ground right then and there. She clutched her heart and almost jumped when she heard the other man move behind her, unintentionally towering over her, peeping through the peephole.

“Hm he’s gone, that’s good,” he mumbled to himself.

He then seemed to realize how close he was standing next to Shirayuki and backed off, palms up, trying to appear as unthreatening a man with a battered face could look, which wasn’t much. From up close, she could see that also had a few scars on his body, some peeking out from his shirt, others marring his face. She could tell that this man had seen a fair amount of fights.

As silence settled once more, Shirayuki didn’t know what to do. Kick the man out? But what if the other man was waiting around the corner? Shirayuki felt an impending headache loom.

She then noticed that the man was swaying slightly on his feet.

“Oh, please sit down,” she hurriedly said, motioning him towards a straw chair near the dining table. Having a stranger in ones’ house is pretty bad, but if he faints, then there will be even more trouble.

He limped towards the chair and sat rather ungracefully on it, his whole body betraying his exhaustion.

“Are… Are you Obi?” Shirayuki asked, passing him a towel full of ice she had fetched in the kitchen.

“Well, that is one of my aliases,” he explained with a smirk before adding: “And what is your name Miss?”

“It’s Shirayuki. My name’s Shirayuki,” she answered, “what just happened?”

“Um… I owed that man some money,” he smiled sheepishly. Shirayuki squinted at him, trying to figure out whether he was lying or not.

Silence draped itself over them, pleasant, if only slightly awkward. A few minutes passed in this way, Shirayuki had so many questions bouncing around in her head she wished she could ask but couldn’t find the words to do so. Obi suddenly stood up.

“Well Miss, it’s been a pleasure. Thanks for the towel and… well, saving me,” he winked, “he’s probably gone by now, so… I should probably go.”

But as soon as he took a step, he winced in pain and stumbled, falling like a log.

Shirayuki panicked, her hands hovering over his body for moment, till a groan of pain snapped her back to her senses. She turned him over, cautiously, and checked him, noticing an alarming dark stain growing on his side. Judging from the other stains, it was blood, and fresh at that. She peeled the shirt back to reveal his side and gasped in horror, he had been stabbed.

She stood up, intent on calling the ambulance, when Obi rasped: “No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine, it’s just a little cut.”

Shiaryuki scoffed and reached for the phone.

Before she could even blink, he was behind her, his callused hand lightly but firmly restraining her from using the phone.

“I promise I won’t hurt you, and I know like that sounds exactly like something someone would say just before they hurt someone, but I’d really rather not get the police involved,” he whispered.

Shirayuki could only nod, heart leaping in her chest.

“Thank you,” he sounded relieved.

He left with no other word, closing the door softly behind himself.

As soon as he left, stillness took its rightful place once more and Shirayuki stood there for a while, bewildered, before she finally went back to bed, her mind reeling. For this to happen on her only day off, she honestly believed her luck was rotten.

*

The next morning Shirayuki woke up, her head pounding from lack of sleep. She sleepily went to make herself a cup of tea to wake herself up, eyes half-closed, trailing her covers behind her like a fluffy cape. As she woke up more and more, memories of what happened last night came back to her, like a half-remembered dream being conjured up once again.

Shirayuki wondered if that man, Obi, was really her upstairs neighbor. She had never seen him before this. Had he just moved in recently? She was so distracted by her thoughts that she did not notice that she was running late for work.

Garack was going to kill her.

*

“For having had a day off yesterday, you sure do look like crap, my dude,” Yuzuri remarqued, coffee in hand.

“Thank you for pointing it out, Yuzuri,” Shirayuki sighed, her whole body felt heavy.

Working in a morgue was considered by many to be a strange job, to be of the living but also constantly working alongside death.

Shirayuki didn’t adore her job but she had grown up constantly surrounded by death and it no longer scared her or disgusted her. It was merely another chapter in the journey. treating the dead respectfully was one of the last things a living person could do to honor their memory. She had learned this very early on, thanks to the fact that her grandparents owned a funeral parlor but also due to the death of her mother.

Death was almost an old acquaintance by now.

*

Obi woke up in a haze, head pounding. His whole body ached, and he knew that the moment he moved it would get worse, but his stomach was aching and demanding to be fed immediately. He rolled over, basking in the blissful silence. He knew it wouldn’t last, but he hoped it would go on for a while.

Boy, was he wrong.

“Sir, if you could just tell my wife…”

“Boy, now you listen to me…”

“Please find…”

Voices swarmed him like a tidal wave, some were louder than others, permeating the air. Shutting them out wasn’t an easy option. He had learned over the years that it required a lot of concentration. Or booze. Concentration he currently did not possess, as his whole body screamed in pain from the beating of the night before and as his stomach ate itself away. And as for the alcohol, well... he could maybe arrange that.

“Shit,” he mumbled and padded into what one would have once called a kitchen, but its current state of cleanliness indicated otherwise.

The voices followed, as they always did, and Obi tried his best to ignore them.

Another day in hell, it seemed.

 The thing with being a necromancer that nobody ever told him, is that yes, even though you can summon the souls the of the dead, more often than not, the dead are the ones who want to communicate. So, they find people who can hear them, and chatter away.

[obsidiancorner]

When Terror Knocks

ObiYukiBingo ‘19

Ghost Hunters AU

Word Count: ~3900

***Note: Guys, this gets dark. This is your warning: Torture is implied. Not detailed but it’s there and it’s enough. Read responsibly. 

A tale about what happens when three friends go Ghost Hunting in rural Southern Clarines.

Shirayuki groans as she rolls out of the backseat of Suzu's Jeep, landing in an overgrown grassy field. She has been cramped up with the equipment for hours. Her muscles are tense, knotted from the time spent contorted around various bags and boxes and, to make matters worse, she really has to pee. 

"Morning, sleepyhead," Yuzuri chimes in her ear as she works to start unloading gear. 

Looking at the watch on her wrist, Shirayuki groans again. "It's after midnight, crazy," she grumps through the groggy haze the unrestful nap left hanging over her. "How long was I out? No, wait. I don't want to know. Better question: where are we?" She cranes her neck to the right, then to the left taking in the wide expanse of nothingness that surrounds them. Well, not nothing.

Corn. There was lots of corn around them- sprawling cornfields, with stalks already knee-high, as far as the eye could see. Well, wherever we are, she muses to herself, they're sure to have a bountiful harvest. It isn't even the fourth of July yet…

Behind her, Suzu answers, "Southern Clarines, about an hour South of Yurikana."

Shirayuki turns to face him. She wants to ask how she can help since he is grunting under the strain of carrying a particularly heavy-looking box. The question dies on her tongue as she catches sight of a dilapidated three-storey warehouse-looking building, sitting alone in the middle of Certified Nowhere. 

A chain link fence with barbed wire banded around the top falls to shambles on the perimeter of the property. There are gaping holes in the fence, where wire had been cut and peeled back. Some parts of the fence were simply rusted clean through. 

A cold shiver of dread runs down her spine and the hairs on her arms and neck raise. Her heart races and her breathing quickens. She was way in over her head. When they asked if she wanted to come along on a ghost hunt, she thought they'd visit some old graveyard with a tempestuous past or something. She hadn't expected someplace that looked like just standing near it is to tempt death or, at the very least, a potential run-in with Tetanus or asbestos. 

And they are going inside?

She knows she is useless to the unpacking because she knows nothing about any of the obviously expensive equipment or how to properly handle it. She just stands there, staring at the building, oscillating between gaping and closing her mouth with audible clicks. This is not her element. She is sure she looks every bit the fish out of water she feels like. 

Trying to get a hold on the steadily increasing dread taking over like mint on a lawn, she pulls her eyes away from the beginning and continues looking around. She still has to pee. 

Several yards from the fence definitely not keeping people out, stands a towering oak. No cars are coming down this neglected stretch of country road. The trunk is wide enough to obscure her body twice over... 

That's probably as good as she's going to get to something resembling privacy. 

She dances over to Yuzuri and whispers, "pee. Tree. Bye," before bolting for the unfortunate tree. 

From there, even the building was blocked from view. Thank the gods for small miracles. 

When she's done and has herself as right as possible, she turns around the tree, stopping dead in her tracks when she sees a young man, not much older than herself peering out the second storey window. 

She shivers. 

She clears the distance between the tree and where Suzu and Yuzuri stand over the equipment, contemplating what to take in and what to lock back up in the Jeep, faster than she has ever ran before in her life. 

Panting hard, she doubles over and braces herself on her knees in a desperate attempt to get precious oxygen back into her now-deficient bloodstream. Whatever Suzu had been saying, he stopped mid sentence upon her arrival. 

"What's up, Yuki? You look like you've seen a ghost," Yuzuri teases, prodding Shirayuki in ribs sore from exertion.

She manages a weak laugh and mutters, "creepy outdoor noise, I think." She doesn't know why she keeps what she saw to herself. 

It may have been to not sound insane. Maybe she didn't want to get their hopes up? Whatever the reason, she kept the man to herself. He hadn't given her a menacing or dangerous feeling. He probably wasn't even there at all. She is just nervous and probably saw a reflection and panicked like a child.

That's it. 

It was a trick of the moonlight shining bright overhead. 

Her face heats with embarrassment and is thankful that Yuzuri and Suzu have gone back to an impassioned debate over what equipment is sufficient. It means they won't notice the blush undoubtedly riding high on her cheeks. 

When her breathing returns to normal, the other two are packing up the Jeep with whatever cameras, flashlights, and other equipment she could only guess at were reluctantly being left behind. 

"What is this place?" It's a trepid question she doesn't really want the answer to but she can't stamp down the urge to ask. 

"Back in old Clarines, this was the equivalent to what is now a maximum security prison." Suzu adjusts the backpack on his shoulders, squaring up and setting off for the concrete death trap.

Shirayuki shivers. Again. Yuzuri hands her a flashlight, a voice recorder, and a gadget to check for electromagnetic fields. She wraps an arm and Shirayuki's shoulders and they set off in pursuit of Suzu's quickly shrinking figure.

Hoping quaking in fear won't be her trend for their excursion this evening, she swallows hard. How a building alone can feel this intimidating, this menacing, is beyond her. 

What she does know is that she will probably be sleeping with the lights on for a while. 

_____________________

They entered the building where on the side where a small, single story set of rooms cut a much less imposing figure in the still night. A small bathroom was off to the left. A desk and chair sat next to a forest of filing cabinets sitting at odd angles from each other. Suzu chose the convenient desk to set up their "base" and got to work laying out the equipment from his pack. 

The door separating the supposed office area from the much larger cell area was suspiciously absent. Not on the ground, not hanging off hinges that could no longer support it. Missing entirely, with holes ripped out of the plaster where the hinges had once been.

Suzu stepps through first and mutters, "oh my."

Yuzuri scrambls past him, coming to a stop when she got past him. "Oh… dear."

It was an agreement with Suzu that promised a certain level of discomfort. Steeling herself against her urge to march her scaredy-pants butt right back to the Jeep and wait for them there, Shirayuki follows them into the cavernous former prison. 

Oh my, indeed. 

They were all silent as they digested what they could see as they panned around with their flashlights. Along the long wall to their left, three rows of cells still stood. The rest of the room had been gutted of the cell structures, an undertaking that would have been no small accomplishment since, even back in old Clarines, walls were made of solid stone and steel and other metals were strengthened through tempering processes advanced for that time in history. 

In the center of the room, a small shack-like structure of concrete had been erected, standing stark against the cool dark grey masonry floor. The metal door sported a padlock and deadbolt, all three corroded under age and use. There were no windows to peek in and an indeterminable stain leaked out from under where the door hugged the stone slab flooring, where it winds into a drain near the wall not far away. 

The long wall they stood closest to is yellowed with age and has pegs and hooks hanging out of it at curious intervals. Three levels of windows set deep in the stone walls seem to shy away from the light of their flashlights, determined not to give up any of the building’s secrets. A catwalk, suspended from the ceiling, split the wall twenty feet in the air, likely used to keep a simultaneous eye on the second and third levels of cells on the opposing wall.  

They hadn't been in the dismal building longer than five minutes before the battery on Yuzuri's camera needs to be switched out. It had gone from full, to low, to off in what may have been a whole minute. Yuzuri mutters something about ghosts and battery drain but Shirayuki doesn’t catch it with a different sort of preoccupation.  

She feels eyes she can't see following her every move as they systematically explore sections of the ruined building. She can’t place the exact reason for her trepidation but it makes her feel weak kneed. She barely breathes, barely even blinks. It feels like she’s surrounded by something ravenous; it feels like every display of weakness, every ounce of her fear, is laid out for any spirit of yesteryear to dissect and feed upon. 

The most discomforting concept is Yuzuri and Suzu not feeling it. With no concern at all, they move systematically down the long line of the room without needing to look over their shoulder while harboring an expectation that someone will be there. 

Yuzuri, more subdued than usual, quietly asks questions into the mic of her voice recorder. Shirayuki stands nearby, not wanting to interrupt but wanting to stay close. “Come on Shirayuki, give it a try,” Yuzuri prompts, pointing at the recording device tucked into her fist. 

“O-okay.” Shirayuki walks several paces away, keeping between where Suzu is looking at something and Yuzuri is preoccupied talking to anyone they can’t see. “H-hello,” she stammers. “Is anyone here with us?”

No answer. Of course there wasn’t going to be an answer. Before she had fallen asleep in the car, Suzu had talked at length about playbacks and blah, bah, blah. She had tuned him out then but mostly, she just feels silly. She might as well be attempting conversation with a wall or the filing cabinets back in the office.

__________________

After that first attempt, she decides to leave it on as something of a journal of the evening but ignored it otherwise. If nothing else, it can serve as evidence of her reluctant participation this time should they ever ask her to come along again. 

Without her realizing, Shirayuki has broken away from their little group. She has moved to the far end of the room  near wear a small door by the cells sits tucked back into a corner. She looks around, finding Suzu and Yuzuri no longer in sight. “Yuzuri? Suzu,” she calls out. 

They don’t answer and adrenaline surges through her like ice in her veins, both freezing her and urging her to move. But where and why? The compulsion is sudden but so intense she can feel it like a hand at the small of her back.

The door to the office room on the far side of the room and obscured by the small room, a phantom she knows can't possibly be there, swings closed with a loud crack. The echo reverberates it's vague threat for an unnaturally long time in the mostly empty chamber.

A deep baritone voice shouts something in the distance and Shirayuki’s heart stops. That wasn’t Suzu. As, more incomprehensible yelling from the baritone voice echoes through the space, Shirayuki scoops up her flashlight and the moment her hands close around the battery barrel, it flickers before obscuring everything in shadow. 

"Over here, Miss," someone calls to her. 

Given the choice between whoever called her 'Miss' and whoever is barking out what sounds like garbled gibberish, she chooses the 'Miss' man. Fumbling in the pitch dark her eyes can't seem to adjust to, she is drawn closer to a reflection of light glowing dim like cat eyes. 

"Yes, Miss, over here. This way" he coos at her like one would a crying babe. His voice is soothing, calm but pressing her to keep moving toward him. "You don't want to be caught out here right now."

Shirayuki is uneasy, distrustful. But somewhere in her gut, she knows this is the safest option. As she gets closer, a cool hand wraps around her wrist and he pulls her to him. He crowds into her space and turns her around, eyes still shining in what minimal light they can pick up.

She moves back to put some distance between them and he advances on her again. His hold on her wrist isn't tight, she could break it if she wanted to. She considers it briefly but the other man yells again, closer this time, and the chilled fingertips at her wrist pulse tighter for the briefest instant before he pulls back entirely. 

A door quietly clicks shut behind him. "Okay. We will be fine in here," he says, picking up her flashlight and giving it a smack against his other palm. The light flickers into a too-dim for normal existence that feels more like an illusion rather than reality. It bleeds out into the room, just enough to banish all but the most stubborn shadows cast by furniture.

Golden eyes stare down at her under long lashes and short, messy hair and Shirayuki blinks a couple times to dispel any figments of imagination. His eyes, still an unearthly yellow, remain locked on her. His hair is still messy and his clothes, they're old- the type of old that boasts of speakeasies and swing dancing. It's the type of old that went out of style shortly after bootlegging became a defunct profession. 

"We… we'll be fine in here?" She looks around the room and an aching dread seeps deep into her bones. "What about Suzu and Yuzuri?" Spinning a slow turn around the room, she takes stock of her surroundings just in case. Alone in a room with a strange man is not a place to not be formulating some form of plan should things go awry. She'd learned that lesson years ago. 

On the far end of the small rectangular room, a chest with a hinged lid sits in one corner directly opposing a table with various instruments as oxidized as everything else in the building. "There's nothing in here to help you get out, if that's what you're looking for," he says, causing Shirayuki to whip around to face him. "But you're friends are fine. They went into the other room."

His explanation is less than comforting but every line of his body is smoothed into a lazy lean as he props himself up against the wall- even as someone stomps closer to their hiding spot. She must show her disbelief on her face because he slouches further as he adds, "from what I gathered, the lady's machine died and the gentleman wanted to swap some gadget out for another one. This will all be over in a few minutes. Don’t think about it too much."

Indistinct bellowing from right outside the door seems to rattle the very walls and a couple chips of plaster falls from the ceiling with muted plinks. She doesn’t understand how someone on top of their hiding space can neither hear them or be heard properly by them. It’s disorienting. The man across from her simply drops to a sitting position, seemingly unbothered by what is happening outside the room as he crosses his legs and tucks them tightly in front of him. 

Realization crests over her like dawn over an open field. He's making himself smaller, less imposing, and it's for her own benefit. He knows she’s scared and is keeping his distance making it obviously impossible for him to get to her without her having time to get away- not that she has anywhere to go with that man thumping around outside.

"Who are you," she asks. She's still hesitant but she turns from him to take a seat on the chest on the far end of the room. When she turns around, she doesn't miss how his eyes flick to the box she's seated on, a darkness muting the gold and passing by like a whisper, before he looks back up to her.

"You can call me 'Obi,' Miss." His lopsided smirk is charming but the tightness in his voice belies his discomfort.  

It takes a concerted effort to ignore the muffled shouting of the man stalking around outside. But if he couldn't hear her temporary roommate, this Obi character, when he was lingering right outside the door, reason dictates they are safe to speak now. 

"What are you doing here?" At her question, his eyes grow distant and slide down her slight frame before settling on the box she sits on once again. The smirk recedes to a thin-set but natural line. 

"I live here, Miss." It sounds casual but feels loaded. There's something more, something he isn't saying. 

"You live here, in this building," she presses. It's hard to believe anyone would stay in a ramshackle place such as this, regardless of circumstance. 

"In a manner, yes," he shrugs, obviously not wanting to be interrogated on his living arrangements. 

"Okay… so who's th-" her question is cut off by a loud thump on the wall, dropping another piece of plaster from the ceiling. Shirayuki jumps at the sound but watches as the plaster falls. Instead of hitting the ground, it drops between the even lines of a grated drain on the floor. The floor, she realizes, is streaked in some places and pooled in others with the same dark stains that reach out from under the door and toward a similar drain on the other side of the wall. 

Belatedly, she realizes where he had taken her. "O-Obi…?" She hates how her voice shakes but she looks over at the assortment of tools and instruments on the desk, finally recognizing some of them. Thumb screws, clamps, pliers, knives, lay forgotten. 

Obi hums at her as he shrinks further into the wall, eyes moving between her and her perch. Back and forth. Slowly. It’s as if he is trying to not draw attention to his preoccupation with the chest itself or that where they are is someplace the word ‘terrible’ is a too-generous descriptor. 

"Obi, what is this place?" She doesn't really want to hear the answer but she needs to know.

"A former prison, just like your friend said before you all came in." It's a dodge. It's a truth but not the whole truth, she knows. The yelling outside stops and heavy feet retreat into the distance but it barely registers when… Wait.

"How do you know what Suzu said outside," Shirayuki asks, squinting at him. There’s no possible way for him to know that.

He looks down and away from both her and the crate she sits on, settling on the drain in the center of the gently sloping floor."I was watching… and listening."

She can't help the gasp. He’d been there for all of it… but how? There were only the three of them outside. Just the three of them and the-- "Were you the person in the second-storey window?"

His head wrenches back up to her, his eyes piercing and fiery but- but guilty, too. Her heart spasms painfully in her chest and she fists her hands in her shirt as if that will stop the ache. "But that window…"

"Is somewhere in the vicinity of sixteen or seventeen feet off the ground," he finishes for her. "Yes."

She shifts uncomfortably in her seat. Sixteen or seventeen feet off the ground with a catwalk above it but nothing below until the ground level floor... "Obi, I'm going to ask you again: what is this place?"

He winces.

"Obi."

"Officially: a former prison," he supplies again, looking at the door with a palpable longing. 

"And unofficially?" She's not in a mood to play games. She just needs an answer. A real one. And she needs to go find Suzu and Yuzuri and convince them it's time to go. 

"Unofficially--"

Any explanation he would have given her is cut off by the door swinging open, revealing the fearful expression on her friends' faces. She looks back to Obi or, rather, at the wall he had been sitting in front of. 

“Shirayuki,” Yuzuri screeches, running in. She pulls Shirayuki down from the box with a little too much force and wraps her up in a tight hug. “Oh my gods. We were so worried about you. You just disappeared on us.”

“How did you even get in here,” Suzu asks, swinging the door lightly to and fro as he studies the locking mechanisms on the door. “This was locked up tight when we first walked in.”

Shirayuki has no answer. There’s nothing believable- at all- about what had happened. What could she possibly tell them. She just shrugs with a weary weakness she hasn’t felt since her grandparents passed in a car accident when she was a teenager. 

She must look petrified enough because they don’t press anymore. Yuzuri just tucks her into her side, coaxing Shirayuki’s head onto her shoulder as she pets her hair in long strokes. Suzu is already wearing his backpack as he heads out of the small room. As they leave the building, no one says a word. The silence extends all the way through repacking the car. 

Shirayuki climbs up into the cramped back seat of Suzu’s Jeep and, when she turns to get one last look at the building, she can see Obi looking out at them through the same second storey window he had been in when they had arrived. One hand lifts to wave before disappearing back to his side. She can’t help returning the gesture. 

________________

Two days later, Shirayuki’s phone vibrates as she reads over the most recent failed Google search for that rundown, middle of nowhere hell-site. 

Call me when you get this.

Shirayuki hits the call button on the top right of the message display. It only rings once in her ear before Yuzuri picks up. “Yuki,” she sounds distressed but Yuzuri can have a flair for the dramatic. 

“You wanted me to call, Yuzuri?”

“Yeah. You let your audio run until we left the other night. Your voice is on it but nothing else… who were you talking to?”

Before she can answer, her search results yield an answer. An article from the Yurikana Tribune dating back to 1928- the height of Prohibition in Clarines catches her eye. “I gotta go, Yuzuri. I’ll call you later.” She ends the call before Yuzuri can respond and stares at the big, bold letters of the article title before her.

“Police Raid on Former Prison Reveals Notorious Crime Boss’ Dungeon of Terror”

Under the headline accompanying the rest of the identified victims, is a picture of a young man the age she is now. A young man with unique eyes, obvious even in black and white, and a familiar smirk. The name beside the picture is only a first name: “Obi.”

[sabraeal]

Say What You Mean (Mean What You Say)

[Read on AO3]

The first of my annual Holiday Gifts this year! Of the two AnS pairings chosen, Suzuri won its place by a landslide, though this concept just squeaked by over the next chapter of Out of Context. As promised, this piece is inspired by @onedivinemisfit​‘s fabulous Suzuri art (sorry I let her keep her stockings)

Suzu’s sponging off the last runny bits of pork grease from his hands when Yuzuri hooks her chin over his shoulder to sigh, “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

It’s certainly not the first time he’s heard it-- hell, it’s not the first time he’s heard it from her, specifically. But this time he furrows his brow as well as his napkin, tossing it into the bin as he grumbles, “I haven’t even done anything.”

“Except be a weirdo!” Her hand sweeps out from under her cloak, jabbing at the crumpled paper. “You are the only person alive that asks to have his dumpling wrapped.”

“I don’t like getting my hands greasy!” He holds them out, clean front and back, only marred by a few ink stains and a recent burn from the forge. “Do you want to put greasy hands back in your gloves? Or-- or smudge up a whole page of notes because you forgot a spot? I don’t think so!”

“Just shove it in your mouth like everyone else.” Her elbow bumps into his as he falls into step beside her. “It’s not hard!”

“Why do I have to change how I eat it?” He’s close, close enough that their hands skim past each other, and ugh, it would be exciting if he wasn’t just so used to it now. The whole being on top of each other and nothing happening thing has been his every day for months now. “I don’t need to burn my whole mouth just because none of you can accept how superior my method is.”

“It’s not though.” She groans, gloves scrubbing down her face. “It’s just weird.”

“The lady didn’t act like it was weird,” he insists, his shoulder nudging into hers, trying to make a little room. It’s not like they’re in some little alleyway, meant for only cats to squeeze through; it’s Pavilion Street, and still she’s right on top of him. “Didn’t even say anything about it! Just wrapped it up all nicely, like she’d been doing it all day.”

White wool flares out, making room for Yuzuri’s arms to wearily lift. “Because you’re one of her best customers, Suzu! She’d probably tuck it in for a nap too if it kept you coming back.”

He blinks at her, mild for a moment, before he finally offers, “I think if there was something odd about it, she would say so. She’s sort of the dumpling expert, don’t you think?”

Her arms drop, the one closest to him tangling up in his elbow before they get their personal space all sorted out, him on one side, her on the other. Again, she’s too close, her eyes heavily lidded, like she’s contemplating the number of ways she could make a fall down the stairs look like an accident.

“I think,” she says, so slow, like she’s savoring the words, “that there’s really no one else like you, Suzu.”

His mouth works for a moment, stymied. “Is that a compliment?”

There’s few people who can glare from the corner of their eyes, but Yuzuri’s talented enough to be one of them. “No.”

For only being a single syllable, it’s a palpable hit-- to his pride at least. Suzu grunts, but it only mists into the air; there one moment and blown away another. His fault for asking, really, when he already knew the answer.

As if he wasn’t smarting enough from her antics, Yuzuri lodges one of her bony elbows into his side-- sharp enough to puncture armor, let alone his delicate stomach-- and surges past him like a dog off her lead. “Are the tents up already?”

Suzu blinks, tearing his attention from where Yuzuri bounces on her heels to a cluster of yurts huddle off the side of the road, their pennants snapping with every sharp gust. He tallies up his mental arithmetic-- oh, what he wouldn’t give to be able to offload this busy work onto Kazaha too-- to arrive an answer that becomes more obvious the longer they stand there beneath the snow and lamps. “The winter festival started three days ago. At least by my count.”

“Three days ago?” Her eyes round, incredulous. “No way? What were we even doing?”

That, Suzu knows off the top of his head. Or, well, his alibi at least. Shirayuki cornered him in the commissary Friday morning, spinning him some yarn about that weird perfume they’d found a year or so back, and a friend who would be in trouble if they couldn’t concoct something more useful from it than a law suit waiting to happen. They’d spent the entire weekend locked away in the lab, subsisting off the food Obi would drop in front of them and sleeping on couches, only stumbled out of their stupor this morning. He’d spent five house face down on his bed before turning right back around to the lab.

What Yuzuri was up to, well-- he’s stumbled over her making eyes at too many scholars between the greenhouse beds to let his imagination run rampant. Speculating about what she might do on her own time is a one way ticket to ulcers.

Instead, he shuffles closer, squinting at the sign propped up by the street. “2000 dir for forty-five minutes?” He lets out a whistle. “Don’t see that every day.”

“Really?” She crowds him, hunkering down until his arm brushes something too soft to be her side, and-- and he just doesn’t think about it. For his own good. “High or low? I never know what’s a good price for these things.”

“It’s all overpriced,” he informs her, strained. “But this is usually what they charge for fifteen minutes at its peak hours.”

Now it’s Yuzuri who squints, focused honed to a point. Shirayuki calls herself a granddaughter of a bar when they balk at her for matching them drink-for-drink or remembering the filthiest verse of a drinking song, but whenever Yuzuri gets like this, snuffling out a deal the way pigs do truffles, she might as well be the daughter of a market stall.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with them?” she asks, only half paying attention. “Someone spilled something inside? A kid threw up? Caught a couple doing--”

“No.” Whatever euphemism she’s about to invent, he doesn’t need to live through it. “I think it’s timing. The lamp festival is where they make their most money, and solstice night too, but between them, well...not many people are going to stop for a quick sit-down when they’re worried about getting dinner on the table.”

“You know...” Yuzuri straightens, smoothing out the wool of her skirt. “I’ve never been in one.”

“Oh really?” He blinks, levering himself upright. He would never have guessed, considering what scholars liked to use them for. “Me either. At least, not since I was a little kid. Never thought it was worth it to sit on some pillows.”

She’s silent. Not in the shy way of someone who’s run out of things to say, but impatient, like someone who is saying quite a number of things very loudly, just not with her mouth. Unfortunately for the both of them, Suzu’s never quite perfected the art of listening with his gut rather than his ears.

Her eyebrows ratchet up an octave, intent as she informs him, “And we just had dinner...”

“Oh.” He glances back to where the tents are pitched, firelight limning their flaps. “Did you want to go in?”

All at once, her shoulders sway into his, eyelashes fluttering as she hums, “Oh well, I mean, if that’s what you’d like to do...?”

He shrugs, fleece itching at his neck. “Not really.”

This time, her silence in thunderous. Enough that even he can feel the vibration of her expectations.

“But if you’re interested, it’s a good price,” he offers, tucking his hands in his pockets so they don’t tremble. “You kept me company all evening, so you deserve a treat.”

“Well,” she hums, sweeping by toward the nicest one. “If you insist.”

“This is nice.” It’s a mistake to have come in here; something Suzu had known intellectually before she’d badgered him into it, but had forgotten until he sees her toe off her boots, stocking feet disappearing into the plush pile of the carpet. She sinks down onto her knees, so close her skirt flops over his knee, and he swallows hard enough to crack walnuts. “Really comfy.”

The air’s suffused with incense and spice, and it makes the air thick, heavy like a favorite blanket. It makes the space smaller, more intimate, and they’re not on a date, they’re not, but--

It’s hard to hear that rational part of his brain when she curls up close, arm burning a stripe along his shoulder where they both rest against the cushion.

“Y-yeah.” It would be a tactical mistake to grab a pillow; a nice girl, one like Shirayuki, might assume he was getting comfortable, but Yuzuri-- she knows too much. He’d have to suffer a sly smile at best, and at worst-- well, one of them is going to be sitting through these forty-five minutes, so he’d have plenty of time to contemplate just why he deserves to be doing it alone. “Even nicer than I remember.”

“Did you come here often? As a kid, I mean.” Her knees tilt, no longer squeezed against her chest but sprawling into his lap. “These always seemed a little touristy to me. I would have thought people from here would pass them right by.”

“Well, now I do, yeah. But when we were younger, my parents always took us to the tents. It was part of the Light Festival!” His mother has sworn there were a good two years where he refuse to nap unless she brought him, piling pillows on top of him until his snores were loud enough to hear through the down. “My sister’s a little older than me, so once she got big enough to keep an eye on me, they’d pay for all of us to go in on our own.”

“Ah, I see.” Laughter fizzes beneath her words, threatening to bubble out. “You three were a handful.”

“How could you say that?” Suzu presses a hand to his chest, eyes painfully wide as he insists, “I was an absolute angel.”

Yuzuri tosses her head back, giggles spilling out from her like water from a bath, overfull and decadent. If he thinks about putting his mouth right there, where her pulse thrums beneath her winter pale skin, well-- that’s no one’s business by his own. Not like he’s hurting anyone else letting himself get stung like this.

“We really thought we were getting away with something too,” he admits, watching her from the corner of his eyes. It’s so rare to see her unguarded, each glance feels like it’s stolen, a part of her he was never supposed to see. “No parental supervision! We could make as much ruckus as we wanted! And in the end we mostly ate candy.”

“And your parents got fifteen minutes to themselves.” Her laughter’s barely contained, leaking out in drips and drabs every time she looks at him. It’s worth it for the way she smiles though, as if he’s telling the joke rather than being one. “That’s one to keep in mind.”

His heart makes a desperate bid to end his misery, lodging itself somewhere in the vicinity of his throat and holding position in hopes of a good choke.

“It stops working at a certain point,” he blurts out; it’s a miracle his voice doesn’t crack from the strain. “I mean, when kids get older. Once we were all able to walk around on our own, it lost it’s shine.”

She hums, and oh, he can feel that right in his bones, rattling both his teeth and his thoughts. “Makes sense. If you’re already allowed to run wild, these things probably feel more like a time out than a privilege.”

If Suzu had been gifted with the self-preservation the Powers That Be-- whoever they were; not his business-- chose to gave small rodents, that’s where this particular topic would meet its end. Or even if he possessed the sort of conversational skills that had Shirayuki shipped hither and yon for king and country-- perhaps more literally than anyone could be comfortable with-- it might fade into something else. An observation about work, a comment on the pillows, a question of how long she thought they had left-- anything, so long as it wasn’t--

“People would go when we got older though. Much older. For dates. Pay for fifteen minutes and then see how far you could get. Not that I--” there’s no way to complete this sentence that doesn’t lead to shame and mortification and possibly a brand new way to get slapped, but he can’t stop talking, not now that he’s unplugged this particular drain-- “I didn’t do it. I mean, I would have, if it’d been an option, but I wasn’t really--”

Yuzuri sighs, loud enough it should rattle the tent. “This is ridiculous.”

“What do you--?”

The silence between his heartbeats stretches for hours when she rises to her knees, swinging a long, bestockinged leg around his hips. She looms over him, utterly implacable, as a goddess beholding their most underwhelming devotee. He must try to stammer through a question-- his mouth moves, even if the ringing in his ears drowns out the sound-- but she merely grips his coat in one slender hand, and stoppers up his mistakes with her lips.

It’d be paradise, if he didn’t jolt back like an idiot. “W-what?”

Her clutch on him squeezes tighter, Yuzuri’s brows knitting with the kind of consternation that usually results in plots getting reassigned. “What?”

“You--” it’s hard to think when every molecule of sense is trying to abandon ship-- “you kissed me!”

Suzu’s never been the sort of person who can convey thoughts with his eyes alone, but when Yuzuri glares down at him now, it’s a whole seminar on his stupidity. “Yes?”

Maybe he’s earned it, when his only question that elbows its way out of his mouth is, “W-why would you do that?”

She recoils, all that divine confidence expelled from her like life from a corpse. “Did you not want me to?”

He may not have a finger on her, but he can feel her slip from them. Her weight retreats toward the boundary of his knees, like she might leave, and he-- he can’t let that happen. His hands fly up, hooking around the convenient curve of her hips, and hold her steady despite their tremble.

“Of course I do,” he blurts out, heat licking at the tips of his ears. It’s mortifying to be known like this, but he can’t care, not when the phantom pressure of her lips still lingers on his. “I just don’t know why you would want to!”

She blinks, those pale eyes of hers so wide he could fall in. “It just seemed like the thing to do! We’re on a date, aren’t we? So I thought--”

“We’re on a what?” He has to be hallucinating. Maybe Yuzuri’s right, maybe the dumpling lady hates him, and she’s laced the paper with--

“A date,” Yuzuri repeats, incredulity building with every letter. “We’re on a date.”

His grip must tighten; he hears her squeak as he splutters, “Wha--? S-since when?”

The stare she fixes him with could level the whole quarter, let alone a man’s pride. Good thing Suzu’s never had any to begin with. “Since you asked me!”

It’s his turn to blink, confused. “Since I what?”

“Since you asked me.” She huffs, folding her arms just under her chest in a way that is utterly distracting. Or at least it would be, if she wasn’t already in his lap, lips flushed from kissing him. “You came up to me at my desk just after lunch and said, Shirayuki’s showing off our work and Ryuu’s at the outpost for inventory, want get dinner, just the two of us?”

“Oh.” His thumbs make nervous circles over the ridge of her hip bone, soothing him even as she squirms beneath his grip. “I thought you’d take that in a friendly way.”

There’s a noise she makes, a dull buzz that reminds him of how cicadas are described in books, their drone warning of heat to come. Only this sound isn’t about the weather, it’s about mortal peril, and oh, it looks like he’s about to meet it head on.

“Why would I think that?” she snaps, balancing her weight between his knees. “Just the two of us is clear date talk! If you wanted to make it friendly, then you should have said, as friends.”

“Because you have every other time I’ve asked!” Sweat and fleece combine to make an untenable state of affairs under his collar, but he can’t spare the hands to even tug at it, not unless he wants to risk her escaping. Which he can’t, not when they’re so close to-- to something. Hell if he knows what it is, but its different, at least. “We’ve been out to dinner, just us, maybe...a hundred times! The as friends seemed very heavily implied.”

“Well--” it should bother him that she’s bothered, that her confidence is flagging, but her shoulders hike up, and all he can focus on is how kissable she looks like this, vulnerable and incensed both-- “it seemed more like a date this time! You must have done something different!”

“I didn’t do anything!” he insists, not knowing why he’s doing this, just tripping his once chance to kiss Yuzuri right at the starting line. He was half asleep when he spoke to her, it would have been simple to say that maybe a little of his hopes slipped through but-- but it would be a lie, and for some reason, it feels important not to make this easy, to make her have to work for this already enthusiastic yes. “I said the same thing I always do!”

“Well, then maybe--” Her words sheer off, all the fight gone out of her as a faintest, most delicate pink blooms over the apples of her cheeks. With a voice so soft he nearly misses it, she mumbles, “M-maybe I’m the one that’s different.”

He stares, eyes so wide he can feel their whites drying in the air. “W-why? Did you drink something in the lab? Huff something? We were working with that perfume only last night, you know. If a bottle doesn’t have a label, you really should do more than waft--”

“I’m not drugged, Suzu,” she snaps, pink blazing to crimson. “I just like you, that’s all!”

“O-oh...” He turns that over in his mind, once, twice. “I don’t understand. Are you sure you didn’t--?”

“Shut up!” Pain blooms right between his eyes, but it’s not until her hand falls back that he realizes-- she flicked him. “It’s not new! I’ve...I’ve felt this way for a while.”

“W-what?” It’s times like this where he’d pinch himself-- not to wake himself up, but so that he can enjoy the dream-- but he doesn’t dare move his hands, not when she feels like she could turn to smoke and sleep at any moment. “But-- when? No, why?”

She sighs, nothing short of aggrieved. “Sometimes I wonder that myself.”

“I don’t...” He licks his lips, mouth far too dry for even this muttering. “I don’t get it.”

“You don’t have to.” There’s something steely in her when she meets his eyes, braced. “Are you trying to say you’re not interested?”

Her hips move, but not in the direction he wants them to. No, they’re moving back, like she means to slip off his lap entirely, and--

And he can’t let that happen. “No!” he yelps, grip tight enough to force a groan from her. He’ll apologize later. “I’m-- I’m super interested. I’m just...confused. Really, really confused.”

Her head tilts, considering. “Whatever,” she decides with a heavy sigh. “I can work with that.”

Suzu means to ask with what, but he only has enough time to take a breath before her lips brush over his, no longer demanding an answer but teasing it out. When he leans in, it’s...tentative, not quite trusting the floor to hold him, or this dream to let him stay. But she’s real beneath his fingers, her gasp echoing against his chest when he pulls her hips closer. A dangerous fact, considering how close she is to-- to stuff. And things. Dick things.

But he can nearly forget about that when her own hands thread through the thick morass of of his hair, palms molding to his scalp as she pulls him into meet her, all those shy flutterings suddenly finding purpose. It’s no longer a question but an answer, one he groans out when her tongue flicks out over his bottom lip, coaxing him to open for her, to let her past, and oh-- he does not need to be asked twice.

It’s getting unruly beneath the belt, but he can’t find the will to care, not when her hips cant into his, grinding down when she finds the hardness he’s been hoping she’d miss. He bucks up into her, cock pressing at the seam of her cunt, and he-- he can’t remember why he’d ever want to hide this, something that could make her jaw go so slack, that could make her moan as he licked into her mouth--

“Wait!” He’s already screeched to a stop, like wheels on and iron track, but she shoves him for good measure, arms trembling as she holds him at their full length. “Wait.”

Even that hint of a plea has him twitching under his trousers, but it’s easy to put that aside. “Did I do something wrong?”

He hopes not; this is part he’s familiar with. The stuff past here...it’s a mixed bag.

“No, no. Definitely not...that. It’s just...” She narrows her eyes, suspicious. “You’re good at this?”

“I mean, I’ve kissed before.” And more, but that seems good-time limiting to mention it. At least right now.

“Well, okay, sure,” she huffs, flushed. It’s a good look on her, better than any time he’d seen her like it in the stockroom. “But you’re supposed to suck, Suzu! It’s supposed to be a sign of my love and devotion that I’m even putting up with your tongue in my mouth! Not-- not...”

He should be insulted, but instead he’s only intrigued. “Not...?”

She grumbles, tugging him against her mouth for a kiss that goes from playful to purposeful in a breath. One he must have stolen from her, since she’s left panting against his lips, “Not wondering just what I’d let you get away with in this tent.”

“Ohh.” He moans into her neck, practically whimpering as she grinds down into him, the pleasure so intense his whole spine tingles with it. “That does sound good.”

She tugs on his coat; this time, it frees the top two buttons. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

The last two pop open before he can gather himself enough to manage, “Good point.”

The fire may be cracking merrily in its pit, but it’s a chill that racks through him when Yuzuri wrangles his coat off him, his skin pimpling beneath the thin linen of his shirt. It’s hard to mind it though, when all it takes is a flex of his arm to pull her against him, her warmth seeping through even the thick wool of her dress. She giggles against his lips, and that helps raise the heat even more, each gasp and sigh she makes as he kisses up her neck raising the temperature of tent a whole degree.

"How is this?” he asks against her skin, nipping just beneath her ear. “Does this strain your love and devotion? Or--?”

“You’re impossible,” she huffs, hands skimming his shirt up and over his shoulders. That’s colder still, but oh, he’s too hot to care, crushing her against him as he nibbles down her jaw. “It’s a-- ah, don’t stop-- turn of phrase.”

“Is it? Because it sure sound like you-- haah!”

He’d had a whole plan to sound smug, to really enjoy this power he held over her, not matter how small, but well-- it’s nothing to the thrall she has him in the second she draws her dress-- chemises and all-- up and over her head.

“Problem?” she asks, so innocent, as if her breasts aren’t right there in all their glory, their tips dusky brown against the cream of her skin. His mouth waters, desperate to wrap around one of those stiff little peaks, but she pushes back off his lap, dragging him with her as she lays flat on the carpet. “Anything I can help you with?”

She highlights her eagerness with a hand to his cock, pressing against his full length, the sensation only survivable due to the thick fabric of his trousers. A thing he’s coming to resent with every lazy stroke of her palm.

“Fuck,” he pants. “How long do-- ahh-- you think we-- oh, shit-- have--?”

“I don’t know.” It’s terrible how much her coyness is doing it for him, making his cock’s confinement almost unbearable. “Enough time to have a little fun, as long as you can keep it down.”

“Great,” he manages, and then does his level best to swallow a tit whole. 

“Suzu!” Her finger scrabble at his back, at his belt, but he doesn’t have time for that, not when the soft flesh of her breast is plush against his mouth, nipple hardening beneath the pressure his tongue. “Suzu, I-- ohh-- that’s-- please--”

He’s not strong the way the guardsmen are, their muscles bulging in the yard with every swing of their sword or flex of their wrist. But he has weight on his side, plus the wiry strength it takes to haul soil from one end of the campus to the other, and with those things combined, he’s got momentum going for him too. In a motion smoother than he deserves, he tucks himself underneath Yuzuri just as she pulls up above him.

It’s not what she wants-- or maybe, not what she’s used to. She grunts, wriggling on top of him, trying to roll them back the other way--

“Trust me,” he murmurs, letting go of her breast with a pop. “I can do more for you down here than I can up there.”

Her brows furrow, skeptical. “What do you--”

“Here.” He hands her a pillow, guiding her hips further up his chest. Her stockings are woolen, itching as she inches up, but the underthings they’ve clipped to are silky, making the whole movement a seduction in itself. “You’re probably going to need this.”

She frowns at it, then frowns at him. “What for?”

“Well...” He shrugs as he hooks her knees above his shoulder, guiding her cunt so close to his face he can smell her even through her drawers, musky and sweet even still. “You’re the one that said we’d need to keep it down.”

“But what--? OH!”

Suzu doesn’t so much see the pillow raise as hear it, her moan muffled as he traces his tongue through the slit cut in the silk, her taste already thick in his mouth. He wants more though, needs more, raising his thumbs to bare the little bud at the tip of it. There’s few bedroom activities Suzu could call himself confident in-- he’d only had the one girlfriend, after all, and not for long enough to do more than check a few boxes-- but this one--

Well, there was a reason he’d had that girlfriend for months instead of weeks. He fits his mouth around that small nub, gentle at first, barely touching at all, but with every gasp-- Suzu, please. Suzu, yes-- he tugs a little stronger. Her thighs quiver beneath his grip, and with a gasp that goes straight to his cock, she pitches to all fours, face buried in the cushion.

He grins against her, testing his teeth-- oh! oh please-- before nosing lower, nuzzling aside the soft folds of her cunt to lap at the wetness dewing there. Or at least, that should be-- he’s used to going slow, to using lips until fingers are needed to help over the finish line, but Yuzuri is soaked when he licks at her, twitching and sensitive and so near the edge he twitches in sympathy.

“Do you need more?” he hums, fingers skimming over the crease of her legs, catching in the silk of her drawers. It’s a pity he can’t see her cunt tremble, but he feels it just fine against his lips. “Do you need me to help you?”

“Please,” she gasps, only half muted by the pillow. “I’m so close, Suzu, please--”

He presses a kiss to her stomach-- she groans, frustrated, but she’ll have to forgive him for being a little proud of himself. He’s got her right up to the edge without even using his fingers, a personal best.

“Suzu,” she says, more firm this time, almost lucid, and well, he can’t have that.

Her slit is dripping when he licks a stripe up it, his fingers sliding into the last knuckle with no more effort than slipping into a bath, and-- “Oh,” he breathes, dick twitching uselessly. “You weren’t kidding about being close.”

She’s tight, her muscles hugging each stroke of his fingers as if they were a scalpel and her the sheath made for them. It’s impossible not to think about what this would feel like against his cock, grasping him so tight with every thrust, and-- and it’s him who can’t wait this time, putting his mouth right over her mound and sucking until she gasps, hiccuping right into a moan the pillow barely catches.

Intellectually, Suzu’s always been aware that his skill with his mouth is above average-- again, enough to make weeks into months-- but it’s not until he watcher her now, squirming and sobbing through her orgasm that he understands. This is hardly her first time tipping over this particular precipice-- his whole first year here was stumbling into her trysts at, er, crucial junctures-- but when she sits back, hair askew and eyes dark, he’s pretty sure this may have been her best.

“All right,” she pants, tugging at his belt. “Now you.”

He might come from that right there, but in the next breath, a voice calls through the flap. “That’s time, ma’am! Please come out and--”

The flap opens, and, well, Suzu’s sure he’ll never forget that face.

“We definitely are not the only people to use those things for sex,” Yuzuri mutters darkly, adjusting her cloak. It’s still askew, and so is her dress, but it’s passable at serving its function now. “That carpet is made to be laid on.”

“He’s probably peeved he didn’t get to charge us a premium for it.” Suzu sighs, slipping his hand into hers. “Oh well. It was fun while it lasted, wasn’t it?”

“You’re the one who didn’t--” Yuzuri blinks down, watching his fingers weave between hers. “Oh, is this what we do now?”

It’s strangely confrontational, the way she asks, but Suzu just shrugs, squeezing tighter. “Isn’t this what couples do?”

“Couples?” she murmurs, confused.

His elbow knocks into hers. “You’re my girlfriend now, right?”

It’s like he’s knocked the winds straight out of her. “Oh. Oh.” She swallows, loud enough that even he can hear. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Then yeah.” He smiles down, enjoy the way she pinks, gaze skittering away. “This is what we do. As long as it’s good for you.”

“It...it is.” She clears her throat, picking up a quick pace. “You could have found a more romantic way to ask, though.”

“Huh?”

Yuzuri rolls her eyes. “Ugh, never mind.”

[ruleofexception]

Fanfic authors tag game

I was tagged by @bubblesthemonsterartist, thank you! ❤

AO3 name: ruleofexception

Fandom(s): Akagami no Shirayukihime

Number of fics: On AO3 - 34 (Tumblr posts and drafts I have yet to post, brings it up to - 49)

1. Fic you spent the most time on: Storm. Good gawd, this fic takes me a long time to write (and it’s only 5 chapters long, so far). There is a lot of research that goes into this one, just trying to get the language right. It takes me a while to get into the right mindset for it, too. It’s not one of those ones I can just pluck away at when I have time. If I’m going to Write It, I have to sit down and Write It.

2. Fic you spent the least time on: Okay, the one I spend the least amount of time researching and having to figure out is probably Damned. I just enjoy writing it and the words tend to come relatively easy. However, the one that I spent like, an hour furiously writing at work (because I was hella salty that day and Joanna encouraged me), would be Rumour.

3. Longest fic: Fall of the Crown��at 73,347 and I’m not done it... I just... have to find the motivation to finish it. Endings are hard.

4. Shortest fic: (probably) Loud So Everyone Can Hear with 1,034!

5. Most hits: Knowing You at 2,811 hits.

6. Most kudos: Also Knowing You, with 284.

7. Most comment threads: Surprise, Knowing You, with 90!

8. Fave fic you wrote: Right now I’m having a lot of fun with Unheavenly Creatures. I even have an ending planned out (which might be a first for me). 

9. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: I’m trying really hard this year to finish some of my WIPs. I’ve already finished 2 (yay!). And I am so close to finishing After You. I just have a thing about endings. I’m terrible at them. I’m so sorry. 

10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning: Well, I’m currently bouncing between new chapters for Unheavenly Creatures, Damned and After You. Because I can’t just focus on one thing, clearly. 

- Unheavenly Creatures: we’re going to see Obi confronting the Slinc and Shirayuki speaking with Garrack about what’s happened. There may also be some talk about Shirayuki’s father (and why she didn’t say anything) and trying to figure out what they’re going to do if he sends another assassin after Obi.

- Damned: all hell has broken loose and things aren’t looking promising for those in the lab. Yuzuri makes a decision that leaves Shirayuki, Obi and Ryuu fighting their way out of Lyrias.

- After You: Shirayuki, Obi and Ancil (with Uche bound and gagged in the trunk) head back to Obi’s to try and regroup but, when they arrive, there are two figures standing on his doorstep waiting for them. We learn more about the Enyi project and why it (and its participants) were terminated.  

OKAY. I have no idea who to tag. So let’s try: @thatwallfloweroverthere00, @thecatwhogrins, @fade-touched-obsidian and @another-miracle!

[onedivinemisfit]

The other day I had a dream where the ans crew were playing a tes:o style rpg game 😂

The concept was something like;

- Cocky Zen discovers his crush, Shirayuki, is also playing his favorite online game. He offers to let her team with him and his friends (oh he and Kiki were cousins too) he doesn’t realize Shirayuki’s about to not live up to his expectations - she’s a tired nursing student who plays to de-stress and smashes everything~ Whereas Zen was hoping for a cute healer to add to his team, not only is Shirayuki already in a diff guild, but she’s neither very cutely, nor a healer at all 😘

Yes Yuzuri created a feline species only guild. Ofc she would. It’s probably got a kitty pun name and everything. THEY’RE RANKED, take that you anti-cat people!

AnS (c) Akizuki Sorata

Art: Me

[dan-de-leon]

A Valentines one-shot ficlet for @squidpro-quo

Happy Valentines Day!!

"I really love the OT3 with Zen/Obi/Shirayuki, something with the three of them would be amazing! I'd rather not get anything with abo au or explicit sex"

I hope this is alright >_< This is my first foray back into writing after a 5 year hiatus. I’ll probably post this on AO3 when I have time later. 

Have a lovely valentines!!

Untitled - a short omake?

The crew have some introspective thoughts and musings about the nature of their lives as they hear about the plot of Yuzuri’s latest obsession.

------------

There was a strong feeling of foreboding in the air. While Zen never liked trusting in such, he unwittingly fell into the same bad habit that his old manners teachers tried and failed to whip him out of all throughout his younger years: paying more attention to the weather than the words of the person he’s engaged in conversation with.

It certainly was the kind of day that couldn't decide whether to be bright or dreary. The snow flurries already stopped and zen's throat was no longer aching. Yet he was warned to stay aware of his health. Mainly since it would not be good for the image of their beautiful city if royalty got sick there all the time.

He pushed a bereft yawn down his lungs; no matter how much the gray seemed to begin looming over those blue skies, it would not fit if he were to yawn in the middle of shirayuki's cheerful and (altogether too) bubbly friend's dialogue. Something about romance novels? Everyone seems to be paying attention though. And who is Zen but a master at staying alert.

"The writing is superb! It delivered way more than I expected," she barely stopped herself from sighing, "my only objection was that it ended too soon."

Shirayuki, patiently listening beside him, was serene and hardly disheveled as usual. Despite her busy schedule and tendency to overwork, she always looked immaculate, whatever the situation. Meanwhile, her friend paused to glance at him. Was that a smirk he saw, just now? No. Yuzuri faced Shirayuki once more, though with a question obviously directed towards him. He braced himself.

"Though, of course, with your highness being around, this type of excitement must be humdrum nonsense, right?"

He breathed a sigh of relief. And then held his breath right after- causing a cough to sneak up on his already much-abused throat. He put a fist before his mouth and coughed once more for good measure.

"What? No! Not at all. What are the main points?"

This seemed to encourage the young girl. She gave a wider grin before resuming with her discussion.

"Oooooh, it had all the best elements!! Right, Suzu? There's the forbidden romance between the prince and the lowborn lady, him rescuing her from pirates and unruly bandits-"

What?

That one landed  way too close to home for him to keep being comfortable. His foot fidgeted. He glared at it to stay. Put. The many times Shirayuki got into trouble because of their situation still made him feel guilty to this day. But he would not ask her to stop, nor would he presume to imagine that he would ever be able to order her to do so.

He glanced at Shirayuki. She was frowning, but only a smidge.

-------

Shirayuki didn't really pay attention to what was being said. That said, she had her head in the clouds the whole time (considering that they were gray, growing, and halfway covering the sky).

That is, until she felt a tickle in her back. It wasn't too uncomfortable -- only enough to make her want to scratch at it. Fine, it was reeeeally uncomfortable. What material did they make herbalist clothes from nowadays, poison ivy?!

She blinked. She was sure she HAD heard the last portion of yuruzi's monologue, but who could really blame her for being a tad bit (note: a LOT)  distracted?

"The prince carrying the lady bridal-style-"

A memory of a warm hand gently wrapping over her waist

"-stolen kisses-"

The sun on her face. That warm spring day. The feeling of her heart pounding, as she felt the pain and simultaneous joy of a first kiss from a very attractive young gentleman.

"-dangerous enemies, as skilled as knights appointed by the crown!"

Come to think of it, they haven't really experienced any danger for those two whole years they've spent in lyrias, haven't they? It was like time stopped and it became normal, to not think about the castle. Shirayuki never had any trouble with petty distractions when there was work to be done. The time here went by so rapidly, since she always had the next project to work on. And once Zen returned, it was like time started moving once more.

And WHY on earth was that prickly feeling in her neck starting to burn? Shirayuki gave in and scratched at her neck. It wasn't the right spot, but it was close enough for the time being.

-----

Suzu was giving him that look again.

While he appreciated time spent with their friends in Lyrias, their teasing looks have always been his constant adversary and longtime companion. He should be used to them by now. He's never reacted before, and them goading him won't make him do so now.

The bubbly girl was being blocked from his view by Shirayuki's slender back. He didn't want to stare, really. She was right there. He couldn't help it. Honest.

"-she even got kidnapped! By the worst type of bandits imaginable!"

He remembered those days. Nonstop action, enough that he could barely breathe. Is he softer now, milder now, tamer now, in comparison? Has this place officially defanged him?

"The lady's true love, saving her in the nick of time!"

He'd never dreamed of that role before. But if he did, would it actually make any difference?

And of course, the prince and the lady's knight, both madly in love with her!"

Suzu's stare was penetrating him now. Not to mention, Zen switched from looking at Shirayuki to looking at him, too.

He sneezed. Everyone jumped.

"It's getting a bit cold. How about we head back in for some warm tea?"

Everybody seemed only too eager to provide assent.

And thus, their whole group started trudging back to the warmth of the kitchen, with the sound of Yuzuri's chatter providing a comfortable ambience. -----

Lyrias was practically a fortress. And thus, it was not too easy for anyone to just jump in and take any random person from the inside. So it was just Shirayuki's luck that she is the unfortunate person caught in the crossfire, yet again.

Some man (she had no idea who, he just blindfolded her and wrapped her up) knocked her out cold while she was checking out books in the extensive library. How and when they got inside, she did not know.

She was still blindfolded. Her hands were tied - but carefully. Whoever did this must've known her status, and didn't want to get in trouble for knocking her around too much. She was famous around here for being a friend of the crown, after all.

Now, what options do I have?

While her body might have just gotten used to the lack of movement that came with indoor work, she will not let it be a reason for her to lose that same tenacity that drove her to run all the way to another country just for the sake of avoiding the selfish wishes of a once famously spoiled man.

Shirayuki checked all her senses. Her sight was out, obviously. She wriggled her hands - still tight. She smelled the air - the heavy musk of being in a wooden room. But- and  her tongue darted out, tasting the air: why is it sweet?

Footsteps

And- they're getting closer.

This didn't bode well for her. She had to think of a solution, and fast.

Shirayuki knew the walls tasted of moss. This moss was lightly useful for providing a light tonic when collected, dried and placed in boiling water. They collected those flowers in the spring.

Fresh, though, and in wintertime, means the tiny leaves will release a certain powder when shaken.

The door opened, and Shirayuki kicked the wall. She held her breath and hoped to god that the man had large nostrils like most other hooligans here in this city.

--------------

Shirayuki had been in her lonesome all morning for some reason.

Normally Obi would be beside her. Yet today of all days Zen required him to be present for sparring practice. Man-to-man bonding, as they called it (though kiki would raise a finely manicured brow at this insinuation)

When he finally escaped for just a tad bit and ran through his usual shortcut (rooftops, what else?) to get to his mistress's haven, he was whooping for joy. The plan for the rest of the day? To provide any help for her in the best way he could.

Yet- what was this feeling of dread? He tried to sense for her presence in the library. His breathing evened out, and he stretched out his hearing to pinpoint the exact place she was supposed to be. This was a relic from days spent listening for the cadence of her heart amidst the roar of a snowstorm upon castle walls. He would recognize her even from the next room.

And yet, none of those abilities could help him out if she wasn't present in the room.

He sniffed the air. There was the light permeating smell of old books and cement. And something else - the residual scent of herbs, from days when Shirayuki brought samples to cross-check with books.

There was a bad feeling rising now, like a crested wave almost reaching the breaking point. He rushed to her oither hangout spots - finding none, he sought out the usual suspects for her attention. None of them have seen even a single strand of her famously bright red hair.

And thus, he had to report to Zen

------

"Shirayuki is missing."

Zen wanted to facepalm. Wasn't Yuzuri talking about this exact situation mere moments ago?

"I guess at least the plot is consistent, huh?"

"Master, you said something?"

"Nothing. Let's go rescue our fair maiden."

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

“I’m so proud of you, you know that?”

Shout out to @nebluus and @septhi-draw for making art that has inspired endless headcanon for this AU! (Examples here and here)

She’s panicking. 

She knows she’s panicking. And that’s how mistakes are made but she never asked for this. She never wanted this. Who putit in anyone’s head that she was responsible enough for this?

Yuzuri’s voice is staticky over the phone line, thechorus of dogs that is her day-to-day life nearly drowning her out. “Shirayuki,he’s going to be fine!”

“Nooooo,” shewhines into the phone, covering her face with her hands. Eyes prickling withtears, her voice nearly breaks. “Why did Haruto trust me to take care of him? Idon’t know how to take care of him! I barely know how to take care of myself!”

“Look,” Yuzuri huffs, and Shirayuki is certain that thereare other things her friend could bedoing, but none nearly as important as this. “All first timers make mistakes.You’ll get better.”

Mistakes? Mistakes?!She’s calling this a mistake? “I have five different toxicplants in my garden. Five! And I didn’t even know!”

Yuzuri’s voice barely conceals her frustration. “You do now.”

Peeling her face from her damp palms, she stares acrossthe room. Outside the bedroom door, Mitsuhide paces, variating between sittingand looking anxiously at the door handle and casting a worried glance in her direction.

Her lower lip warbles. “I shouldn’t have left the front doorunlocked.”

“Did you have some magical mind reading abilities that Idon’t know about?” Yuzuri sighs. “How were you supposed to know that Obi knewhow to operate doors?”

“I should’ve guessed!” she shrills. “He escaped Haruka’splace and-“

“Shirayuki.” Yuzuri’s voice is steady. Calm. And entirelydone with her. “I need you to listen to me. First: Lock your front door. And second:go lay down with Zen.”

~ ~ ~

The pathway to the bedroom is clear, but each step isweighted. Heavy. An insurmountable burden under the heft of her guilt. What if- what if she’s bothering him? What if her presence stresses him further? What if he died while she was on the phone feeling sorry for herself??

Cool metal is in her wrapped in her palm, the door clickingopen. All independent of her. And in the dark, a soft trill rises from the lump in themiddle of the bed.

“Hey,” she breathes. “You feeling better?”

He doesn’t answer, but she picks her way over. Slowly.Carefully, as not to disturb him.

Obi and Mitsuhide, though, have no such restraint.Mitsuhide beelines it straight for the bed, his great form surprisingly lithe as he jumps from floor to mattress in one gracefulmotion, and Shirayuki nearly face plants twice before she’s half way there by the wayObi keeps weaving between her ankles.

He jumps up just as she sits down, staring intently atthe weakened repose of Zen spread out across her duvet. Any other time, shewould be charmed at his calm. She wasn’t sure, between him and Obi, was thelikeliest to get into trouble or the most active, but this was certainly thefirst time she felt more concerned about his longevity.

Blue eyes, as clear as a summer day, blink slowly at her andshe lays down.

“Shirayuki?”

“Yeah?” she breathes into the phone, inching forward until soft whitefur touches her lips and smiling when he butts his head against her chin. Obi stepsover them both, laying down behind Zen and immediately starts to purr like a derelict motorboat.

“How is he?”

A soft vibration rolls against her chest and she sinksher fingers into Zens coat. “He’s doing better, I think.”

“Good.” She can hear the smile. “He probably expelled thelast of the toxins before you even managed to bring him in. He’ll be right asrain in a couple of days.”

Mitsuhide settles on the pillow above her head, softlykneading it into submission, and the guilt that had snapped up her heart slowlybegins to thaw. “I’ll call the locksmith tomorrow. See if they have somethingmore cat proof than what I have.”

“That’s my girl,” she hushes.

Zen shifts in her arms, pressing his head under her chin.She thinks she hears a soft meow, but nothing is certain once Obi has startedup.

“Hey Shirayuki?”

“Mm?”

“I’m proud of you, I just want you to know that. You’regonna be the best cat-mama in all of Clarines.”

She smiles, scrunching her nose as Mitsuhide’s raspytongue licks at her forehead, as Obi’s nails briefly sink into her arm beforerelaxing against, and as Zen gives one happy, albeit weak, trill.

“Thanks.”