#and Yuzuri would just laugh and be like

[sabraeal]

Greatest Little Show on Earth

[Read on AO3]

It’s quiet for the back lot, even for this time of night. Just the hum of the floodlight and the chirp of crickets out in the grass, hopping to safety as they wade the last few feet up to the blacktop. Shirayuki squints across it, searching trailer stoops and picnic tables, but there’s not a hint of clowns laughing too loud, or jugglers bobbling illicit alcohol containers out of view. Not a single acrobat out there either, finding new ways to endanger themselves on everyday equipment. For once, she has to admit, she’s disappointed.

“Well, would you look at that?” Obi huffs, pausing at the edge of the pavement. With a shift and a shimmy, he hikes Ryuu’s floppy limbs over his shoulders, adjusting them like a scarf.  “Little bit of food poisoning and everyone’s got the wind taken out of their sails.”

“Food poisoning can be very serious.” There’s vials in the lab’s freezer labeled things like E. coli 2012 Munich McDonalds and S. enterica 2008 Atlanta Taco Bell; she’d laughed the first time she’d seen them, until Garrack reminded her that they didn’t store strains without a body count. “And besides, it was only Concessions that went out to sushi last night. That shouldn’t be keeping everyone else from, er…”

Having too good a time insinuates that she’s never stayed up past her bedtime, being too loud too late at night while her friends stealthily passed around beer liberated from someone’s garage fridge. Which she hadn’t; high school Shirayuki had been early to bed, early to rise— up until college, where she discovered just what havoc a chemistry final could wreak on a healthy sleep schedule. But Obi doesn’t need to know that. Not when she still hasn’t figured out just when he gets his shut eye around here.

“They’re a bunch of teenagers. They’re idiots.” He chuckles to himself, reaching up to give Ryuu’s shaggy mop a good ruffle. “Present company excluded. Can’t get them to believe that if they kiss every clown playing spin the bottle, we’ll have to send them home with mono, but tell them that they need to wash their hands real good or they’ll get the runs, and suddenly they think they can get it through their eyeballs”

It’s impossible to smother her giggle, but she at least keeps the volume low enough that it doesn’t echo across the whole lot. “That sounds like experience.”

“It is,” he promises, the shadows clinging onto a corner of his smirk. “A couple summers of this and you’ll know all you need to know about the adolescent psyche. Which mostly boils down to: a kid by themselves is a genius, but a group of them has less sense than a clown car.”

Two years ago, the Shirayuki that had stepped fresh off the bus from Tanbarun with nothing but the lab’s address in her pocket would have demured, would have said something like, I don’t know if that’s very fair, or that’s because they’re just learning how to take care of themselves.

The Shirayuki that’s spent those same two years in Garrack Gazelt’s lab says, “I think that’s just people.”

“Makes sense then, doesn’t it?” It’s funny how he can slant a smile at her, and suddenly it’s a secret, shared between the two of them. “Since they’re just people too.”

“Yeah.” A little more wild, in her experience, and stubborn for sure, but well— Yuzuri’s a bit wild too, hanging from silks and rings, spiraling from dizzying heights with only confidence and skill as her net. And Shidan’s just as stubborn, keeping the whole tour on schedule even through floods and fatigue and teenage angst. “I guess that’s true.”

Obi’s boots scuff up to a stoop, and he reaches up to ruffle once again, with a little more purpose this time. “Okay, bucko, this is the last stop. Time for all good geniuses to get to bed.”

Ryuu blinks up blearily, cheek still pressed into Obi’s shoulder. He might be fifteen, just a hair shy of a growth spurt that will make him look like an adult, but right now he reminds her of nothing more than a toddler, roused by the transfer from car to crib.

“Obi?” he creaks. “Where…?”

“Your trailer. You sacked out while we were wrapping up the till, champ. Hey, Kirito.” Obi slams hard on the door. “Can you come help a guy out, here?”

The aluminum wibbles open, and a grumpy thatch of blond glares out. “Bro, what’s your—? Oh, damn, you find him under a counter or something?”

“He sat down while we were closing out the register,” Shirayuki explains, swallowing down a giggle as Ryuu flops between Obi and Kirito, boneless. “I guess it’s been a long day.”

Ryuu’s not a big kid, but there’s a lot more of him now than when they arrived. Kirito stumbles, trying to make sense out of the mess of limbs. “I’ll say. You sure he’s okay?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” She reaches out, smoothing a curl off his forehead. “He’d fall asleep under his desk at the lab too. We put a little curtain up in his cube for privacy.”

Kirito huffs, slinging one of Ryuu’s arms around his neck. “Hard to believe this guy does real work.”

“I’m the youngest college graduate of my university,” Ryuu slurs out, helpful. “Shirayuki. Thank you.”

A laugh bubbles up behind her smile. “Oh, it’s no problem, Ryuu. It was really Obi who got you all the way back. You know I’m happy to—“

“No, not that.” He’s still half asleep, but his gaze fixes on her through the net of his eyelashes, as intense as when he’s awake. “For coming here with me. I’m having a lot of fun.”

There’s a prickle at the corners of her eyes, but it would embarrass him if she teared up now. The last things teenagers like is a sappy adult. “It’s my pleasure, Ryuu. You deserve it.”

He nods, all formal and stiff, the way he had the first time she’d spoken to him, asking if he could show her how to use the flow cytometer. With a lift of his chin, he turns to Kirito and announces, “I would like to be unconscious now.”

The kid sighs, patting him on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. You and me both.”

The door slams behind them, rattling in it frame, and then it’s just her and Obi underneath the floodlights, shadows so long they merge. She squints across the pavement, just barely able to pick out the big top at the horizon, nearly lost in the trees.

“Well,” she says, her voice suddenly too loud in the silence. “Even with all the food poisoning and last minute shifts, it turned out to be a pretty nice night.”

Obi hums, hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans. Black jeans, which she’s never seen before, too nice to be worn while fixing the generator or unclogging the shower’s piping. The shirt’s new to her too, a nice red crew neck with three buttons down the front, two of them undone and the sleeves rolled up. No holes, either, which is a first for his wardrobe, and she nearly says something, nearly says, do you only dress up for front house or is tonight special? But—

But he just slants a look down at her— another secret, just between them— and says, “You know, it doesn’t have to end.”

  Even the big top’s dark this late at night , all hunkered down like some mythical beast in its hundred year slumber. But when Obi holds open the flap, moonlight illuminating the packed earth beyond, and she just…walks right in. Blows right past every klaxon blaring in her mind and slips into its silky maw, waiting at he ties the flap back.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be here.” It’s impossible to speak louder than a whisper with the cavernous darkness of the ring pressing in around her. “The kids have already cleaned up, and they’re not supposed to be here after it’s been checked.”

“It’s fine.” Obi brushes past her, waving a lazy hand. “The kids can’t come back here, sure, but we’re grown adults. We’ve signed waivers and everything.”

Her shoes pull up short at the shadow’s edge. “That’s not really filling me with confidence, Obi.”

He sighs— not impatient or frustrated, like she’s used to, a goad used to hurry her along, but…fond. Like he’d been waiting for the protest, like that had been part of the script he’d written for the evening, and she’s merely playing her role.

“C’mon, Doc,” he says, little more than a rumble in the darkness. “I’ll make sure you don’t break a toe.”

“Shouldn’t we turn on a light or some—oh.” His fingers wrap around her wrist, so long they overlap on the other side, and she just…loses her train of thought. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry, your eyes adjust.” She’s heard that sort of promise before— don’t worry, I have you and it’ll be easier once you just do it— but they never account for how clumsy she is on her own too feet, how unsure, but—

But Obi keeps it, guiding her slowly through the stands and over the barrier of the ring, his hands burning where they settle on her hips. Even though she can barely see, she somehow always knows where he is in front of her, or how he wants her to move with little more than a breath and a touch. And when he finally guides her onto a stacked set of mats, he’s right. With the vents on the tent and the opened flaps, the moonlight illuminates the ring as bright as the spots.

“Here,” he says, pressing something cold into her hands. A bottle. “Refreshment.”

It only takes one sip for her to choke. “Is this alcohol?”

They don’t sell those at concessions— with a bunch of minors running it, that would be asking for trouble— and yet beneath all the fruit juice, this is definitely, definitely booze.

“It’s mine. Stashed them at the ticket counter.” His teeth flash white as he settles next to her. “Figured the kids would pack up early tonight, and then you’d finally get a look at the place when it’s not all dolled up.”

“Is that…?” She takes another sip, longer this time, and unlike the beers Garrack used to press on her at lab happy hour, it’s not bitter. “…Is that important?”

“A right of passage,” he informs her, shoulder bumping hers. Her stomach flutters in surprise. “Gotta see what it’s like when the lights aren’t on and crowd’s all gone. That’s how you know if you really love it.”

“O-oh.” It is nice like this, all quiet, like the caves she used to play in back home. “So, someone took you out too? Earlier in the tour, or…?”

“No, I-- did Yuzuri never tell you?” He laughs, surprised. “Usually she can’t keep her mouth shut.”

All at once, the roost of butterflies in her stomach wither. “Oh, are you two—? I though she— that Suzu—“

He coughs around his drink. “Yuzuri and me? No, no. God, no. I meant that I was an aerialist. Back when I first came here.”

Shirayuki blinks. “And then they made you back lot manager? That’s a strange career trajectory.”

“Nah, nah.” His hand waves in front of him, the motion strangely staccato in the half-light. “When I was in the camp.”

“In the camp?” Tonight’s the first time she’s ever seen him out of his band tee and cargo pants, and now he’s asking her to imagine spangly leotards and stirrup pants? Impossible. “You came here?”

“Yeah, when I was a kid.” His shoulders jump, a casual shrug that misses it mark. “Court order, actually.”

Yuzuri always jokes that if Obi’s breathing, he’s talking, but it’s never like— like this. About himself. Then again, Shirayuki can understand why he might keep a checkered history close to his chest. Especially at a camp for kids. “Court…order?”

“Ah, yeah yeah. Fell into a rough crowd when I was in middle school or whatever. Got caught.” He grins at that, like he’s proud of it. “Judge thought twelve was a little young for a kid to get a record, so she pulled some strings. Guess she knew the guy running this— not Shidan, he was just an instructor then— and she must have thought that if my idle hands were kept busy on the trapeze, I wouldn’t have any left for trouble.”

“Ah…” Another sip steadies her, gives her the courage to ask, “Did it work?”

“Just learned to get up to a different sort of trouble.” He winks, too charming, and she has no trouble at all imagining what shape that sort took. No wonder Yuzuri always rolled her eyes when he hung around, telling him, buzz off and root around in some other flower, bumblebutt. “But I came here every summer until the scholarship money dried up.”

There’s a story in that, she knows, but he’s already sharing so much of himself she can’t bring herself to pry. Not about that, at least. “Is that why you came back? Because you miss it?”

“Sure isn’t because I love unclogging trailer toilets, that’s for sure.” He hooks his hands behind his head, leaning back. “They did right by me. The old boss, and Shidan too. I like to come back when I can. Now that I work for my uncle— ah, not my real uncle, it’s complicated— I’ve got summers I can spend on this. Time to help some other kids learn a different type of trouble.”

“Oh?” It’s a struggle to keep her mouth straight as she asks, “Like Ryuu?”

That gets him, a nice thunderstorm of a laugh that rolls over her from head to toe. “I think he’ll be finding a different sort of trouble all right. Can’t see mine interesting him.”

“Probably not,” she agrees, a giggle bubbling around the edges of it. “So you still do it though? I mean the acrobat stuff, not the, um, trouble.”

He snorts. “I don’t get up to as much trouble as I used to, I can tell you that much, Doc. But the circus tricks…” His eyes skim over the tent. “Here, hold this.”

His bottle settles into her hands, cold against her palms, and he doesn’t so much stand up as unfurl. “Looks like the kids were playing with the lyra before they cleared out. Have it down at practice height and everything.”

With a squint, she sees it’s true, the silvery rim of the aerial hoop dangling at his shoulder. Still too tall for her, despite all of Yuzuri’s off-hours coaching, but Obi hooks his knees up and over it it with speed that speaks of muscle memory, of a trick done a hundred times until it was as natural as breathing. With the subtlest swing, he pulls himself up, perching on the ring like the hanging birds her nanna liked to keep in the sunroom, spinning every time the wind blew. Birdchimes, she’d called them, though they’d never made a sound.

“Wow,” she breathes. “You’re just as good at the kids!”

“I did try to do it professionally,” he explains, fitting his feet to the bottom of the hoop and pushing himself up. “Got into Cirque du Soliel even.”

“Really?”

“Hah, don’t get excited,” he teases, wrapping himself around the top of the ring now. “I only lasted six months.”

“Oh?” Her mouth curves as she stands, handing him his bottle. “Trouble?”

“Worse.” He takes a long drag on the drink before he hands it back, grin bright in the moonlight. “French Canadians. I like weird, but those guys are another level. Quit and never looked back.”

Her only point of reference is Mitsuhide, who maybe likes spreadsheets more than a normal person should, and is so nice he makes her look like selfish. Which might be it’s own kind of weird, but…

“So what about you, Doc?” He slides down, putting his back to one side and kicking up a leg on the other for balance. Man in the Moon, Yuzuri would call it. “Don’t often see academics running away to the circus.”

“Ah…” Her mouth takes a rueful tilt. “Yeah, I think if we leave, it’s mostly just to open bakeries.”

His eyes are obscured by the shadow of his brow, but she does see those hike up, furrowing in confusion. “Really? I’d like to see that.”

It’s nice it’s so dark; he can’t possibly see her blush. “Maybe if we ever go some place with an over that doesn’t, er…”

“Make everything charcoal briquettes?”

Shirayuki grimaces. “Yeah, that. I do make a mean cookie.”

“Ah, Doc, I don’t think you could make anything mean. But you didn’t answer the question.” He leans out of the ring, head tipped back, until his mouth is level with hers. “What kind of trouble are you looking for?”

That’s the thing about Obi, it’s all simple with him; talking, working, just being with him feels natural.  There’s no complications, no worries, just the frisson of him so close to her it feels like lightning just under her skin. It’s nothing to lean it, to cup the back of his head and press her lips to his, catching his gasp on her tongue.

At least, it feels that way, until he topples right out of the ring.

“Oh!” Her lips still tingle when she pressed her hand to them, electric. “I’m sorry, I just thought that— that there was a vibe? That— ah, I must have been—“

“No, no!” Her scrambles to his feet, all limbs. “That vibe is very correct. You should definitely keep feeling that vibe. I just…won’t fall like an idiot this time.”

He reaches out to her, his smile no longer confident but hopeful, the rough calluses of his fingers catching behind her elbows.

“I think I messed up,” she blurts out, and oh, it’s terrible to watch his face fall like that, to watch him falter. “No, I mean. Not this. It’s just…”

He blinks. “Shirayuki?”

Ah, it would have been nice for him to say her name at any other point than this. “I sort of…already have…? I mean, I was sort of seeing someone before I came here.”

Those eyebrows hike again. “Sort of?”

“Ah…” She grimaces. “He might…sort of…be the reason I’m here. Partly.”

He takes in a deep breath, and guides her to the mats. “All right, Doc,” he says, sitting down beside her. She nearly squeaks in relief when he wraps an arm around her. “Keep talking.”

[realtacuardach]

Names

Entry for Obiyuki Week 2022, True Name/Betrayal (Day 3) @snowwhite-andtheknight

~~~

"Miss," Obi muttered in shock, staggering back with his hand clutching his heart, "how could you? You promised!"

Shirayuki folded her arms and stared him down. "And you promised you wouldn't get out of that bed until you completely healed. Apparently," the word delivered in a deal of stinging ice, "some promises were made to be broken."

"You wound me!" Obi cried dramatically, placing one hand to his forehead. 

Shirayuki snorted. "You do a pretty good job of that on your own. Now, lie down."

Obi flopped back onto the bed, just managing to clamp his lips on a groan as his leg bounced. Given his lady's twitching mouth, the attempt to smother it had not gone unnoticed. 

"But Miss," he absolutely did not whine, "how could you betray me like this?"

“Surprisingly,” Shirayuki replied, sitting down beside him on the bed, “I like it better when you’re not injured.”

“Not about that!” To be honest, part of him preened a bit when his Miss worried about him – at least in situations when he wasn’t equally worried about her. “About the name!”

Quirking her head to one side, Shirayuki frowned thoughtfully. “The name?"

Obi crossed his arms as he pushed himself up into sitting at the headboard. “Names are important!”

“I know.”

“Then how,” he sighed, “could you pick a name without me?”

Shirayuki’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “I…wasn’t?”

“I heard you talking with Yuzuri.” Obi was not pouting, and if he was, he blamed the potency of the pain medication.

“Oh.” Realization clicked into place behind Shirayuki’s eyes and she smiled. “She just had suggestions, Obi. I was coming here to tell you about them. I would never,” she pulled a book from her bag and placed it on the bed between them, “make such a big decision without you.”

Obi looked down at the book cover, Baby Names and their Meanings.

“After all,” Shirayuki shifted with a grunt, hand to her abdomen, “how could I name this baby without their father?”

Grinning, Obi placed one hand over her stomach, rewarded with a small kick. “Hello, little one,” he greeted, “you be nice to your mother.”

"And you tell your father," Shirayuki smiled down at her belly, "that he needs to be nicer to himself! We need him in one piece, don't we?"

Obi grinned sheepishly, then frowned as Shirayuki winced. "Are you all right?"

“I'm fine,” Shirayuki reassured him, laughing, “but he’ll be a fighter like his father with these kicks.”

“He?” Obi asked.

Shirayuki shrugged and smiled. “Just a feeling.”

Obi hummed and stretched out an arm, bringing her close and tucking a pillow just right behind her lower back. She sighed in relief for a moment before leaning forward to place another pillow underneath his leg.

Settling back against him and the pillow, Shirayuki let out a contented breath and pressed a kiss against the underside of his jaw. Obi tightened his hold on her while he reached for the book with the other. He turned his head just enough to place a lingering kiss on her temple, relishing the miracle that was his family.

“Shall we begin, my lady?”

She nodded, and together they opened the book.

[intheticklecloset]

This Might Tickle (World Trigger)

Summary: In trying to convince Chika that destroying a Trigger doesn't actually hurt its user, Izuho decides to demonstrate the worst it may actually feel like - with Yuzuru as her unwitting subject.

A/N: This idea was so freaking cuuuute! I would never have thought of this on my own! Thanks to @skribblz for helping me out with the scenario. Enjoy! ^^

Word Count: 999

~~~

“Nice shot,” Yuzuru said, nodding his approval. “You’re improving every day.”

Chika smiled up at him. “It’s thanks to your teaching that I’ve gotten this far.”

He shrugged, trying not to blush from that tiny bit of praise. Beside him, Izuho shook her head. “Don’t be so modest! You blew a hole in the wall the first day we met. You were already plenty strong before this guy started helping you hone your skills.”

“Really, the biggest hurdle for you now is the fact that you can’t shoot people.” Yuzuru frowned down at the younger girl, who still held her sniper at the ready. After a moment he said, “Why don’t you try shooting me?”

“W-What?!” Chika exclaimed, leaping to her feet. “No, I couldn’t—”

“Chika,” Izuho said gently, “you know you have to learn how to do it, right? They’ll never let you on the away missions if you can’t shoot anyone.”

“I…I can shoot the Neighbors just fine,” Chika tried to argue.

“But not if they look like us. Like humans.”

“Don’t worry, Chika,” Yuzuru said, crossing his arms. “We’ve told you before it doesn’t hurt. You know yourself that it doesn’t hurt. And you’re not actually killing anyone; you’re just destroying their Triggers so they can’t be on the battlefield anymore. That’s all.”

“Yeah! The most they’d feel is this.” Izuho grabbed onto Yuzuru’s sides and squeezed. “See?”

Yuzuru let out a loud shriek of surprise, wrenching away from Izuho with wide eyes that quickly glared once he was out of reach. “Why’d you do that?! You could have just said it would tickle!”

Izuho blinked. She looked at Chika. Then both girls burst into giggles.

Yuzuri couldn’t stop this blush no matter how hard he tried. “What? What’s so funny?”

“That noise you just made!” Izuho exclaimed. “Was that a squeal or a scream?”

“N-Neither!” The older sniper crossed his arms again, huffing indignantly. “You just surprised me and I yelled.”

“Are you trying to say it didn’t tickle?”

Yuzuru scowled. “I…I didn’t say that. Don’t go getting any ideas.”

Izuho giggled, reaching for him with wiggling fingers, elated when he took a nervous step away from her. “See, Chika? If you agree to shoot Yuzuru, he wouldn’t feel anything. The most he’d feel is a little tickle!” She finally managed to grasp his sides again, only this time she didn’t let up.

Yuzuru’s eyes widened as he dissolved into giggles, cheeks burning red as he squirmed and pushed at his sudden attacker. “S-Stop! Nohohoho! Don’t – we dohohohon’t need a dehehemonstration!”

“But I’ve never seen you laugh,” Izuho cooed playfully. “Have you, Chika?”

Chika giggled at the scene unfolding before her. “No. It’s cute, though.”

“Nohohohohot cute!” He squealed, trying desperately to pry Izuho off of him. When he realized he was too weakened to really fight back, he succumbed to his reactions and laughed when she moved up to his ribs. “Nahahahahaha! Stahahahahahap it!”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Izuho demanded, looking back at her friend. “Help me out here, Chika!”

“Nohohohoho!”

Chika bit her lip nervously, but her interest won out in the end and she moved to join Izuho in tickling Yuzuru right there in the sniper’s training room. After a few moments the brunette stepped behind their victim and trapped his arms with hers, leaving his torso wide open for the ravenette, who immediately sought out his ribs and sides, making the poor boy laugh helplessly.

“Stahahahahahahap!” he begged, squirming in their hold on him, flustered and embarrassed beyond belief. He’d never live this down. “Girls! Plehehehehehehease!”

“It’s all you’d feel, right?” Izuho asked just to mess with him. “If Chika shot you with her sniper, this is what it would feel like?”

“I hohohohohope nohohohohohohot!”

“But it wouldn’t hurt?”

“Nohohohoho, it wohohohohouldn’t! Girls, plehehehehease stahahahahap! Let me gohohohoho!” Yuzuru pleaded through his unstoppable giggles. Moments later he sagged in relief when they both let up, allowing him to crumple to the floor and catch his breath. “You’re so mean,” he grumbled, trying to will the pink out of his cheeks.

Izuho smirked. “Well, Chika? Want to give it a try?”

“Y-You mean…shooting him?” Chika suddenly looked uneasy again. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, did that demonstration do nothing for you?” Yuzuru mumbled, getting back to his feet. “It won’t hurt me. I promise, Chika.”

“Yeah! Don’t you want to see him laugh again? If you shoot him he might giggle like he did just now.”

“Shut up, Izuho.”

She nudged him. “I’m trying to help Chika feel better!”

He sighed. “Look. You know we can adjust our suits to feel different levels of pain, right? You can set it to feel nothing or set it to feel everything, depending on your preference. They told you that, didn’t they?”

Chika nodded.

“Mine is set to feel absolutely none. And…” Yuzuru sighed. “If…if you manage to shoot me and make me bail out once, I’ll…” He lowered his voice to a near whisper. “I’ll let you tickle me again.”

“Oooh~” Izuho teased, poking his side. “You liked it that much, huh?”

“Obviously not! I just…I’m just trying to help out, okay? Give me a break already.”

Chika blushed a little, biting her lip to keep from smiling too wide at the offer. She still didn’t feel good about it, but she knew logically she’d have to overcome this hurdle eventually. And as long as he was offering to let her tickle that smile back onto his face, then…

“Okay,” she replied, nodding. “I’ll try it.”

“Awesome!” Izuho exclaimed, grabbing Yuzuru and dragging him toward the door. “Come on! Let’s get Chika to shoot you so we can tickle you again!”

“I only promised Chika that she could tickle me,” Yuzuru protested as he was led out of the sniper’s room. “Not you!”

Chika stored her sniper and jogged after them, grinning. Could she actually shoot a person? She didn’t know. But for this – for him – she was willing to try.

[obiyuki-beebs]

the less we say: one

read here on ao3

Obiyuki Trope Madness 2021 @snowwhite-andtheknight

Almost Kiss

Words: 1238

part 1 / part 2

______________________________

They had been back in Lilias for half a day when the letters came in, confirming the Northern lords’ approval to plant Phostryias. The pharmacy bustled with commotion as the news spread. Year’s worth of work and research finally coming to fruition would undoubtedly lead to a celebration. 

Obi, Shirayuki, and Ryuu watched the cacophony grow, sitting together in the central pharmacy with the others. Yuzuri had only narrowly been prevented from uncorking mead with the promise from Shidan that they could have a party that evening. 

Obi turned to look at the two of them, eyes crinkling with his smile.

“Well, well. Mission accomplished, wouldn’t you say? You two have worked hard for this.”

“Not alone,” Shirayuki laughed, smiling back at him, “You included, Obi. None of this would have been possible without you.”

“Oh, stop, you’ll make me blush.”

“You? Blush?”

“It’s been known to happen,” Obi replied matter-of-factly, legs kicking out in glee before he hopped to his feet. 

Ryuu, having watched the exchange in silence, spoke up. “Obi doesn’t really blush. He just makes a certain face in situations where other people blush.” He paused and nodded his head. “Yes, that face.”

Shirayuki laughed out loud at the wide-eyed expression that Obi tried to hide with his forearm.

“I’ve been found out,” Obi relented, smiling sideways at them as he recovered, quickly snatching up a cork that an unknown faction of early revelers had dislodged. 

“I’m going to write a letter to the Chief. She may know already, but I want to tell her myself.”

“That’s a great idea, Ryuu. Send her my regards,” Shirayuki said.

Ryuu left the room, gangly limbs carrying him away as Yuzuri began handing out cups of mead.

“Speaking of letters,” Obi said upon finishing his drink, “We should write to the Master. He’ll be happy to hear about this. Maybe he’ll finally be able to ask you about a certain special something.” Obi winked. Shirayuki’s eyes followed the twitch of his lip as he said it.

She hummed, also setting down her cup and waving off Izuru before it could be filled again. 

“Obi, I’ll catch up with you around dinner,” she muttered, looking distracted. “I’m going out for a walk.”

Obi blinked. “Care for some company?”

She looked up at him, lips parted slightly.

“Not today,” she smiled, “Don’t worry. I’m not going far.”

“As you say, Miss.”

____________________________________

On the bank of the overlook outside of Lilias, Shirayuki knelt and pressed the fresh dirt in front of her with soft hands. Thick mid-summer leaves rattled overhead as the wind passed through them. 

She sat there, staring at the soil-stained whorls of her fingertips as the afternoon sped by; the mountains in the distance glowed, and the answers she searched for danced just out of reach. 

____________________________________

The months passed quickly, and the researchers involved with the Phostryias plant were kept especially busy organizing oversight and propagation. 

Obi grew accustomed to scraping dirt from underneath his fingernails after each long day of helping Shirayuki transplant seedlings. Ryuu spent his mornings with ink and parchment after spending half the night observing the vines that grew steadily on the road to Lilias. 

The second group in Oriold reported similar progress and local interest, and the issue with the invasive green buprestid was resolved when Suzu suggested netting. Yuzuri watched Obi smile almost fondly at the iridescent beetle before trapping it in a jar with the countless others.

And so it went.

____________________________________

The invitation from Wilant came as the leaves turned, dry and vibrant against the evergreens scattered across the north. Shirayuki stared at the signature of the letter from Zen, noting the even handwriting of Mistuhide before setting it down with a sigh. Outside her window, the first snow began to fall.

____________________________________

The dinner at the castle was uneventful. They spoke to familiar nobles and knights, skirting around the parquet with crystal glasses of wine. 

“I received a note from Mister,” Obi spoke from somewhere behind her elbow, “They won’t be able to join us this evening. But tomorrow, before we leave, there should be time.”

“Mmm,” Shirayuki hummed in reply, cheeks colored by drink.

____________________________________

“I’ve decided,” Zen said, facing the window and the early morning light, “I want to ask her before you leave today. Mind helping me out…Obi?”

“Anything for the Master,” Obi replied, eyes dim as they bored into the prince's back.

____________________________________

The courtyard was cold, and the ever-present northern wind cut through even the thick wool of her shawl. Shirayuki stood alone. To the unacquainted observer, she was merely taking in the morning light that filtered in through the clouds. Few would notice the tension in the set of her lips, strung out by the question she wanted to ask as it poised there for so many months. She had decided.

She started at the soft crunch of snow behind her, whirling to greet Obi with a gentle but eager smile on her face.

“Obi!” she called, starting forward before he could slip away.

“Ah, Miss,” he says, forcefully pressing into the center of his chest like he can force the tightness that lives there to evacuate, “I think Master will be looking out for you soon.”

She didn’t respond. Tucked into a small alcove,  Obi wished to himself that he could look into her eyes like this for a little longer.

“I’ll go get him then-” he began, but she had already reached out and taken his hand, palms tight through their gloves, and all he could see was the wind-whipped skin of her face.

“Don’t,” she implored, eyes searching his.

She was close; the red of her hair so, so dark, wisps pulled by the wind, and the light from the snow around them reflected softly on her pale skin. Obi inhaled sharply, wondering.

“Miss?”

“Obi,” she breathes, and he can only just hear the tremor in her voice, “Would you call me by my name?”

Their breath misted, caught in the stillness that made up the few inches now between them. 

His hand gripped hers tightly, the other moving on its own, and he swallowed when he realized he had already brushed the hair away from her temple, gloved fingers grazing the skin of her cheek.

When did she get so close?

He almost laughs, tilting his head nearer like he’s done this before.

“Shirayuki,” Obi whispers, lips parting softly around her name.

Somehow this is familiar; Obi’s amber and Shirayuki’s clear, seafoam green eyes locked in a shared silence that holds them hostage. 

Eyelids fluttering, she inhaled slowly, the musk of his breath she had only caught hints of before, and without realizing, she leans into him and-

“Shirayuki!”

Zen rounded the corner with a skip in his step, eyes bright. 

“Zen,” she stuttered out, “You’re coming to see us off?”

“Ah, actually, there was something I wanted to ask you while we’re alone.”

“Right now? Can’t it-”

She turned, but Obi was already gone. 

“It’s-um... it’s something important.”

Their eyes met as a cold wind swelled past her.

“What is it, Zen?”

After a moment, he spoke. “I know we haven’t discussed this in a long time. My feelings haven’t changed. I wanted to know...if I asked you to marry me, to stand at my side as my wife,” he smiled, “What would you say?”

The snow started falling then. Shirayuki faced him with her back straight.

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

(don’t) wake me up

Hold Me Close (and never let me go) Masterlist

Shirayuki never did wake easily.

That’s what her grandparents always told her, voices fond and smiles baffled as she bounced off walls and stumbled her way to her bowl of froot loops in the hours before nine. Earlier bedtimes did not mean earlier risers, the film of sleep lingering until she was loaded down with her books and binders and bundled onboard her school bus. Not even the allure of a perfect attendance sticker was enough to pry her to full consciousness until after the morning school announcements were done and everyone had taken their seats.

College had been a blessing, any classes scheduled before 10am something everyone mourned. Sleep dazed students piling into their lecture halls wearing a unicorn onesie after lunch didn’t even cause her professors to bat an eye. “Everyone is tired,” Yuuha scoffed, bent over his laptop while downing an espresso with a redbull chaser. 

This was fine, she thought. It was the ROTC crowd that were the odd ones; Mitsuhide showering off the sweat of morning PT and downing a plate full of protein before her first alarm of the day had even sounded.

It wasn’t until she was in medical school memorizing the symptoms of sleep disorders that she realized maybe her mornings were not… neurologically normal. But no graduate advisor was going to sign off for the time off needed for a sleep study and she had lived long enough like this, why not hold off a few years more?

Part of her wishes that she had done the tests back then; sacrificed a few perfect grades for the possibility of a well rested morning.

But considering her current predicament, perhaps she saved herself both time and money by not.

“Miss.”

A soft laugh and gentle pressure on her shoulder stops her cold. Blinking blearily, she stares at the whirls of gold paint dancing up a purple wall, the crinkled blue fabric covering the window beside it.

“Ah,” she breathes, rubbing at her crusty eyes. “I thought you weren’t supposed to do that.”

Another laugh, not unkind, filters through the haze. “Do what?”

Shirayuki turns where she stands - Oh, it’s a hallway. They’re in a hallway now. When did they do that? - and says, “Touch me without asking first.”

In the dim of the establishment's lighting, she can barely make out the color of his eyes, but she remembers. Gold. His eyes were… somehow gold.

No, that couldn’t be right.

“There are exceptions to every rule, Miss,” Obi says quietly, but his hands fall through the air, landing harmlessly at his side, and through the soft fuzz wrapping her brain, Shirayuki feels a paign of regret. 

“Are you going to be alright?” he asks, his voice just as soft as they had been when the both of them had been wrapped in fresh, clean smelling sheets. “Do I need to call you a Lyft?”

It’s like turning over a flooded engine. She’s cranking the gas, keys turning in the ignition, the starter screaming-- “Oh!” Shirayuki shakes her head, scrubbing at her face again. God, she can’t remember the last time a conversation was this hard. It’s almost as if- as if she just woke up. Or something. “Oh, no. I came with a friend. She’s taking me home.”

In the dim half lighting, his eyes spark with humor and- and she thinks his eyes really are gold. Somehow. Either that or sleep deprivation has caused her to start processing the color yellow inappropriately, in which case, she really should schedule an appointment with a neurolo--

“Good to know, Miss,” he says, gesturing towards the door to the reception area. “I’m sure she’s waiting for you. We went a little over time.”

Shirayuki could not say this with complete certainty, but she was pretty sure she’d never been late to anything in her life. “Huh? Why?”

Obi glances up at the ceiling, scratching at the non-existent stubble at his chin. “You were… rather insistent that you wanted to stay in bed.”

Mortification floods her face with heat and she can only hope that the lighting is dim enough to hide it. She must have- she must have actually slep--

“I’m so sorry,” she blurts. Her grandparents had recorded it one time to show her; grandpa snickering behind their new camcorder as grandma wrangled Shirayuki’s floppy limbs out of bed and to standing. She had flopped right back onto the mattress, spooling the covers around her before grandma could catch her. Twice. To her knowledge, she had never outgrown it. “I’ve never woken up easily.”

His shoulders shake. “It was flattering, Miss, truly. Never have I seen a more satisfied customer.”

Now she wants to ask. But she might melt right through the floorboards first out of sheer embarrassment first. “I can’t believe I just made you lay there for an hour while I slept.”

“Professional hazard,” he quips with a wink. “You wouldn’t be the first lady to fall asleep on me.”

“That somehow doesn’t feel like something you should be bragging about,” she claps back, only to slap her hands over her mouth. Inside thoughts, Shirayuki. Inside thoughts.

“Well.” His hand lands on the door handle, huffing out a sound halfway to a laugh. “It depends on who you are talking to.”

All things considered, she may firmly be in the satisfied customers camp, so it really wasn’t fair of her to tease. Actually, now that she’s thinking about it, if she actually did sleep-- “Can I take you home with me?”

Fingers blanch on the door handle and- oh yes, those eyes were definitely, definitely, gold. “Uhm.”

“I mean!” Shirayuki’s hands slap against her cheeks this time. That- that didn’t come out right at all. “Do you have a business card? Or something?”

Obi just stares at her, and it may be her imagination, what with the lighting and all, but his cheeks seemed a little… darker than before.

“It’s just-” Oh, if only she had been blessed with even an ounce of tact. “I slept so well.”

Rubbing awkwardly at his neck, Obi huffs, “It was just a nap, Miss.” But he reaches behind her, plucking a card off of a wall rack covered in adverts from massage therapists and yoga instructors and, goodness, Shirayuki may have visited half of these establishments. “But any time you feel like drooling on my arm again, feel free to give me a call.”

She wants to tell him that it was more than a nap. It was the first time in months that there hadn’t been dreams. “Thank you.”

“I, ah-” Obi coughs into his fist, staring at the door. “I do have overnight rates.”

It’s Shirayuki’s turn to be speechless.

He tilts his chin towards the bit of cardstock in her hand. “Info on the back.”

Her tongue twists in her mouth, staring up at him, but he pulls on the handle and--

“Oh there you are!”

In the reception area, Yuzuri bounds to her feet, ushering her out of Obi’s shadow and into her arms. She already has her phone out. “I was beginning to wonder if you left or something. C’mon, let’s go get lunch at that little crepe place before things start getting busy.”

Shirayuki casts a wide eye look behind her, only catching the profile of Obi’s face as the door is pulled shut behind him.

“Okay!” Yuzuri bubbles, holding her phone between them as she leads them outside. She is not prepared for the cold blast of early spring air, but she’s even less prepared for the woman smiling up at her from Yuzuri’s phone. Pixelated leafs that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Geocities era flutter across a soft focus headshot, the tinkle of piano keys emerging from underneath the sounds of passing cars. “So this is the reiki lady Kazaha swears by. She’s booked out for months, but he said he was able to get us a slot-”

“Yuzuri-” Shirayuki tries softly.

“-and, yes, I know how you feel about energy work, but her yelp reviews are really good and-”

“Yuzuri, I slept.”

Carefully swept up curls, freshly tied back into a high ponytail stop swinging, and Shirayuki almost bumps into her. Someone does bump into Shirayuki, though, then swears as Shirayuki collapses into Yuzuri’s back.

“Sorry-” Shirayuki begins, glancing behind her, but all that gets her is a dirty look as an old man swings around her, grumbling something about not stopping in the middle of the sidewalk-

Yuzuri takes hold of her arm, shuffling them to a display window. “Did you say,” she begins slowly, staring at her with wide eyes. “That you slept?”

Shirayuki nods, still unable to believe it herself. “And no dreams.”

Yuzuri takes a breath. Then another one. “Do you think… you could seep… some more?”

Any time Shirayuki closes her eyes, they burn, but she does it again and this time, her body goes momentarily weightless with the promise of unconsciousness. “Yea.”

“Okay, okay,” Yuzuri breathes, taking Shirayuki’s arm in hers once more. “Okay, yea, let’s- let’s get you home, then.”

~ ~ ~

“If I had known that this is what you needed, I would have done it ages ago.”

Shirayuki stares at the far wall. It was so much easier back there on the street, still sleep warm and a little bleary, to say that she would sleep. To say that she could. “Mm.”

Yuzuri’s arm wraps tighter about her waist, cold nose brushing against her neck. “Not that I haven’t enjoyed our little outings,” she continues. “I’ve always wanted to try that stuff.”

While Shirayuki doesn’t precisely agree, she’s not going to pretend that it hasn’t been an, ah, experience. “Mm.”

“I wonder why the professional cuddler worked but not the massage therapist?” Yuzuri hums. “If it was physical contact you needed, I would’ve thought--”

Shirayuki sighs, loud enough that Yuzuri stops talking. “It’s not coming.”

Propping herself up on her elbow, Yuzuri pulls at her shoulder, rolling Shirayuki until she’s flat on her back. Brain as heavy as a sack of beans, she watches Yuzuri frown at her still open eyes, confirming that Shirayuki was, indeed, not asleep, and then sighs.

With a plop, Yuzuri collapses back onto the mattress next to her once more, arm wrapping about her middle. It’s nice. Warm. She misses warm.

“Well, we just laid down, maybe you need some more time,” Yuzuri mumbles into her hair, and maybe- maybe she’s right. This is the closest she’s felt to sleep in her own bed in a long time. At least without heavy medication. “And maybe I should stop talking.”

That’s an idea. But it never used to bother her. Grandma could be on the phone right next to her for hours while she napped on the couch, and grandpa’s poker buddies could caw until the wee morning hours outside her bedroom window and Shirayuki would never stir. Even Zen, with his countless 2am business calls with Hong Kong, didn’t bother her--

“What sort of music were you listening to?” Yuzuri asks, flopping onto her back and digging out her phone. “We had some pretty windchimes.”

“Whales.” Shirayuki murmurs, without thinking. “We were listening to whales.”

She hadn’t liked them - they had sounded like drowning puppies - but maybe there was something to the experience that had made her relax enough. She remembers reading about it in a journal once. The researcher had said something about frequencies and brain waves and music therapists having moderate success with the method, but it’s buried under the mounds of more… established papers that she had given more time to.

Yuzuri props her phone up on the nightstand, soft cetacean whines filling the room. Settling back down next to her, Shirayuki’s eyes flutter shut at the sensation of fingers gently winding through her hair. It’s nice. Comforting, even. But not-

“It is working?” Yuzuri whispers.

“Mm.” Shirayuki doesn’t dare move. Not when she’s so close to the edge like this. “A little bit.”

“Maybe the smell is wrong,” she muses, thumb brushing against Shirayuki’s temple in soothing strokes. “Sorry, my hair product can be a little strong.”

Honestly, Shirayuki hadn’t even noticed. “It’s okay.”

“I’ll get you some tea tree oil tomorrow,” she says absently. “I think that’s what they had in their diffusers. I’ve seen the good stuff for sale at the organic grocer down the street from me.”

One by one, her muscles unwind, the pressure on her brain easing. She can’t find the energy to respond, her thoughts winking out one by one--

Buzz buzz buzzzzzzzzzzzz

Shirayuki’s eyes spring open.

“First mistake,” Yuzuri groans. “Leaving your phone in the bedroom.”

Shirayuki just might cry. With a whine, she shifts onto her side, moving to grab for her purse dumped at the side of her bed-

A firm hand stops her midroll, Yuzuri staring down at her with her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Second mistake,” she frowns. “Checking it.”

She’s very likely right, but- “It might be the hospital,” she counters.

“Then it’s low priority,” Yuzuri claps back. “You have a pager for a reason.”

“I don’t like making people wait.” Shirayuki squirms out of Yuzuri’s hold, fishing her phone out of her purse. “If it’s small, then it’ll just be a minute.”

“When you’re done, I’m taking that from you and putting it in the kitchen,” Yuzuri grumps. “And putting it on silent.”

“Deal.” Shirayuki smiles, swiping her thumb over the blank screen. Blue swirls fill the screen, a single message notification block blaring across the center that says,

IZANA WISTERIA

“Whelp.” Yuzuri’s chin digs into Shirayuki’s shoulder. “You’re never going back to sleep now.”

With a wince and a familiar churn of the gut, Shirayuki carefully rearranges her face before even attempting to cast her friend an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” she sighs. “You might as well go home. I know Suzu must be missing you.”

“That telephone pole was probably looking forward to a night without me starfishing all over the bed,” Yuzuri grumps, pushing herself up. “But you’re right. I don’t want to be dragged into whatever overtime horror project Wisteria is pulling you in on.”

Shirayuki frowns, watching Yuzuri sweeping up the mess of her hair. “It’s not like that.”

That earns her the rise of an eyebrow. “Then what, pray tell, is it like?” Yuzuri challenges back, pinning her bun into place.

Shirayuki doesn’t know how to answer that question. Doesn’t know how to explain that things are complicated, and not in a Bumble sort of way. That the incident created a strange world where only her and Izana lived, and well… 

Well she doesn’t think that Izana would appreciate her talking to anyone about it, even if that someone was her best friend. To be frank, she doesn’t even know how to begin describing the odd dynamic between the two of them.

She struggles for a response for too long and Yuzuri sighs, grabbing her phone off the nightstand and stuffing it in her coat pocket. “Call me if you need anything,” she says, like she always does. “I’ll be over with tea tree-everything in the morning.”

From the comfort of her blankets, Shirayuki smiles. “Thanks, Yuzuri.”

“Mm.” With a lazy wave over her shoulder, she calls. “Don’t stay up too late!”

From down the hall, Shirayuki hears the front door latch shut, her apartment once again falling into stillness. Unnatural silence. And even under her down feather duvet, Shirayuki feels a chill. Maybe she should have asked Yuzuri to turn up the thermostat before she left. Or maybe she should just take the plunge and get herself a cat. They’re warm.

Taking a deep breath, the smell of her single, empty apartment filling her lungs, Shirayuki looks back at her phone. And, with a resigned sigh, clicks Read.

[spaced-out-imagines]

Reunion (Senkuu x reader)

warnings: none!

A/n: another oneshot that I wrote a while ago when I was stockpiling imagines before opening this blog. This is my first time writing for Senkuu so I hope he’s not too ooc. I hope you enjoy!

The first thing you saw when you were de-petrified was a man’s face, his long hair framing it. He had a gentle smile as he reached a hand out to you, helping you up off the ground. 

“Welcome to the stone world,” he told you. You simply looked around confused, the last thing you remember was being inside your high school looking for your boyfriend, Senkuu, and then moments later you suddenly couldn’t move. You were clearly no longer in your high school and wilderness surrounded you instead. 

The man must have noticed your confused face because he said, “you must have a lot of questions, but for now let’s get you back to our base. My name is Tsukasa by the way.” He gestured for the other people accompanying him to follow, as he led the way. You and the three other people who were just de-petrified followed obediently in silence. 

You soon reached a large base by a cliff. There were people walking around, each doing their jobs. As you walked they made sure to stay out of the way for Tsukasa, in turn giving you a clear path. He led you to what seemed to be a living space, as there were some people resting in personal rooms. Tsukasa stopped at the end of the hall and turned back to look at the four of you. 

“Here are your rooms. You can use this day to familiarize with the place and to get used to the situation, but tomorrow you will receive jobs for you to complete,” he told you, “I can tell you this however. 3700 years ago, all of humanity was petrified and currently we are the only humans who have broken free. My goal is to make this stone world a haven for the innocent young people, to cleanse humanity. So I ask you for your help.”

Hearing this your heart dropped into your stomach. Cleansing humanity? That was insane, sure there were some bad people in this world but there were also good ones. Cleansing humanity wasn’t the answer.

At the moment however, you simply nodded. You knew if you went against Tsukasa nothing good would come from it. 

“Excellent. Well if no one has any other immediate questions I’m afraid I have to go,” he said, starting to leave. The other three went into their rooms but you quickly tapped Tsukasa on the back.

“Tsukasa? Sorry to bother you but I have a quick question,” you said hesitatingly.

“Of course. What is it?” He said, turning back to look at you.

“Um well… Have you seen a boy named Senkuu Ishigami around? I was wondering if anyone has seen him. Oh what about a Taiju Oki or a Yuzuriha Ogawa?”

Tsukasa’s face darkened slightly before going back to normal. A shiver ran down your spine. Something about that look he just had scared you.

“Senkuu Ishigami is not here anymore. But Taiju and Yuzuriha are around, their individual quarters are down the hall, you might be able to find them there,” he answered before striding off.

“He’s not here anymore?” You thought, confused by Tsukasa’s wording. You followed his directions and eventually found what you assumed was one of their quarters. You knocked on the wall beside the opening to the room, a curtain separating the room from the hall.

“Coming!” you heard from inside. A couple of seconds later the curtain opened and there stood Yuzuriha. She paused for a second when she saw you before leaping at you for a hug. You hugged her back as she squeezed you tightly.

“Oh my god! Y/n you’re here! It’s been so long,” she said as she pulled back, allowing you to see the tears that had welled up in her eyes, “I’ve missed you so much, Taiju has also missed you! And don’t even get me started on Senkuu. He was looking for you everywhere but we were never able to find you. He said that he’d find you eventually but Taiju and I could tell that he missed you a lot more than he let on.”

“I’m happy to see you too Yuzuriha, although to me it feels like it hasn’t been that long,” you laughed slightly, “where is Taiju anyways? Tsukasa said he was here but then he also said Senkuu wasn’t here anymore? What did he mean by that?” 

Yuzuriha’s face fell a little and her eyes darted up and down the hall. Once she saw no one was there she looked back at you. “Taiju is doing a job right now but he will be back soon. Come inside and I’ll try to catch you up to the best of my ability.”

She pulled you into the room, closing the curtain again. You both sat on her bed as she began to tell you everything.

Yuzuriha explained how she was revived by Senkuu and Taiju around a year ago and how they made their way to Hakone to obtain gunpowder. In the middle of her explanation Taiju came in and burst into tears upon seeing you. After squeezing the living daylights out of you, he also joined the explanation. Taiju told you about the year he and Senkuu were alone, experimenting with the revival fluid and trying to survive. They then told you about how Tsukasa killed Senkuu, but he managed to live thanks to the petrification on his neck and how they went separate ways after that to carry out their respective missions.

By the end you were almost crying, having to hear about all the hardships they went through. Hearing about how Senkuu almost died was enough to bring you to tears, but you managed to hold them back. Yuzuriha gently hugged you, trying to comfort you and you appreciated the gesture. After you composed yourself, you looked back at them and asked, “Are you in contact with Senkuu now? Is he okay?”

They both shared a look and smiled at you. “Actually… we’ve been calling him for the past little while thanks to the cell phone he made with the people he met after we separated,” Taiju said.

“We’re working on a plan to secure the cave of miracles so that we can fight back against Tsukasa. The plan is going to be executed in the next few days and we’ll be meeting up with Senkuu there,” Yuzuriha finished. “Do you want to come with us?”

You grinned at the two of them, “do you even have to ask? Of course I’m in.”

(...)

A couple of days later the three of you made your way to the Kingdom of Science’s camp. You nervously walked beside Yuzuriha, with Taijuu leading the way. She seemed to pick up on your anxiousness as she looked at you.

“Y/n is something wrong?” she asked.

“Uh well… I’m just a bit nervous about this operation. I hope everything goes well,” you replied after a second.

“Anything else?”

You sighed, “I guess I’m a little nervous to see Senkuu… For him it’s been almost two years since we’ve seen each other.”

She patted you on the back, “you don’t have to be nervous about that. I’m sure Senkuu will be ecstatic to see you.”

You gave her a shaky smile as thanks when Taiju suddenly stopped after breaking through the treeline. He stood there for a second before rushing forward, you and Yuzuriha quickly following.

“Senkuu!” he yelled, diving to hug the green-haired male who dodged around him before patting him on the back.

“Good to see you too you big oaf,” he snickered. “You too Yuzuri-” Senkuu stopped abruptly as he made eye contact with you. 

You simply stared back, tears welling up in your eyes again. Even though it's been 3700 years, he was still the Senkuu you knew and loved. Maybe he grew a little taller and built up some muscle but you could tell just by looking at him he was still the science-loving mad man you were dating all those years ago.

You smiled shakily through the tears. “Hey Senkuu,” you choked out.

Senkuu slowly walked up to you. When he stood in front of you he reached up with a trembling hand and cupped your cheek gently, as if you were an illusion created by his mind. Once his palm met your warm cheek he took a shuddery breath.

“Y/n…” he breathed out, eyes wide and staring at you.

“Yeah it’s me,” you said, placing your hand on top of his, “I’m back Senkuu.”

Tears started to well up in his eyes as he pulled you into a tight hug. You squeezed him back just as tightly, gripping onto the back of his shirt as you let your tears fall. Both of you stood there for a few minutes, not wanting to let go. You did eventually pull apart enough for Senkuu to rest your foreheads together.

“I looked for you everywhere… I was so worried that I would never find you,” he whispered.

“I know, I know… I’m here now though. And you won’t lose me again, I’m ten billion percent certain of that,” you replied with a smile.

Senkuu chuckled under his breath, “stealing my catchphrase are you?”

You laughed as well, “you love me for it.”

“I really do,” he said before pulling you into a loving kiss. Finally you were back in his arms, and you were going to make sure that you would never be separated again. Because you knew that you would do whatever it takes to make sure he didn’t lose you a second time.

[nicotinemaiden]

My mistake

And if I knew the words that you sold me Covered up the truth you've been holding I would learn to let you go Before we travelled down this road Now all I have is ignorance to blame But I guess that was my mistake

[Nico Collins]

Read on AO3 →

The first time was a mistake.

At least that was what she kept telling herself the morning after when the influence of the alcohol had disappeared completely from her body and all the memories of the night before returned to her. They were still a bit hazy, clearing slowly with every passing second.

To her side the bare back of a well-known friend rested against her, the shadows the waking sun projected over it emphasizing his muscles and the scars that were there before she could do anything for them. She found the urge of touching them - again, her mind reminded her - and buried it inside, far away from her current thoughts.

Her breath was nowhere to be found, lost someplace between her naked body and the lips of the man beside her. Her heart raced to a pace she wondered if it was healthful, if it wasn't the first time it had done that. Turns out, it definitely wasn't. Last night was just her most recent example but… she remembered this sensation from almost every time Obi was closer than usual. Her heart trying to escape, she told Yuzuri once. To be with whom it really belonged, she answered, a knowingly smile on her lips. She didn't understand it then and now, even having a subtle idea of what was her friend referring to, was definitely not the time to be thinking about it. She had enough on her hands for the moment.

Her hands, unbuttoning his shirt with the care she would put mending his wounds. Her hands, entangling themselves on his hair as if it was the rope from which her life hanged. Her hands, wandering to places of his body that were forbidden for most people, caressing them and stroking them and - 

She forced herself to the present, trying her best to calm the excessive beating of her heart and failing miserably. The weight of what she had done, what they’d done, hit her hard, a lot harder than she expected. The guilt crawled up her throat so forcefully she had to fight in order to stop herself from throwing up. 

"Miss, you're drunk."

His voice was low in her ears, his lips almost touching hers. She just wanted to shut him up and feel the burning of his kisses again, the way his hand gripped her right tight, lifting up her dress, distracting her from what he was saying. It wasn't a question, she processed later, but she had already answered.

"Yes."

She went to kiss him again but he retreated just a bit, enough to be out of her reach.

"I'm drunk."

That wasn't a question either, but she answered anyway.

"Yes."

She looked at his eyes and then she understood. He thought this was only the alcohol talking, not herself. He thought she was just in a… playful mood. But that was far, oh so far, from the truth. She'd wanted him for so long she didn't even remember when was the first time her thoughts wandered to him in that particular manner.

But she wasn't just thinking about sex. She was attracted to him, that much she knew - and if she was having any doubts the first of their kisses melted them all away - but it was something more. It wasn't love, she loved Zen, she knew how that felt… did she not? Zen. She hadn't… She hadn't remembered him until now and… she didn't want to remember him. Not here, not now, not being with Obi. He was consuming her entire world and… she was honest when she told herself she wouldn't want to be anywhere else, nor with anyone else. So she added, clarifying her thoughts to him in a small sentence.

"And that doesn't make me want you any less."

She forced herself up with one arm, kissing him slowly, lovingly, the way a wife would kiss her husband, clearly not a lover's kiss. And he smiled against her lips, warming her heart even more.

Her head ached as if she had just been banging it against the wall all night long. She brought her hand to her temple, wanting the cool of it to help whatever little it could. She needed to get out of this room - their room, she remembered herself, leaving little places in this unknown palace to run off to.

She was going to kill Hisame. This was all his fault, his and his stupid ideas. Fake dating, yes, of course, they could do that, it seemed simple enough.

Until it wasn't.

It was hard enough sharing a room with him - He insisted on sleeping on the floor most of the nights unless she practically forced him onto the bed, afraid all she would find of her knight the next morning was an ice cube - but the subtle touches, the long stares, his proximity when he slid his arm down her waist, bringing her to him, so close she thought she would kiss him if he wasn't so quick to flee her side once the show was over.

That's all it was: A show. A show for the people of this cold place, an entertainment for Hisame and torture for herself. She asked her knight once his thoughts about their new situation and he just dismissed the question with a flirtatious response and a smile. It was so Obi she just left it there, thinking he wasn't against the idea. She wondered what he would say now that their relationship was a lot less fake than they anticipated.

She was still clinging to his neck, her hands completely still, too afraid to make a sudden movement lest he decided it was time to do rounds or to eat something, or to go to the bathroom. It wasn't the first time they've been in this situation, their hug loose enough for them to look each other in the eyes, forgetting what drove them to be this way in the first place. She spoke softly, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Tell me, Obi, what would you do if I…" She trailed off, seeing his confused look, and decided it was best to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission. She'll have to thank the alcohol later because without it she would never have had the courage to do it.

She lifted herself up her toes and brought her lips to his. It was just a soft kiss, so short she believed she imagined it, but she could still feel the softness of his lips so she kept her eyes closed for a moment. How something so little, so innocent, could awaken so much in her was beyond her comprehension. She felt flashes of lightning all through her body, from top to bottom, making it difficult to feel bad about it. She just… kissed him. Without asking if he wanted it as bad as her.

She opened her eyes ashamed, thinking she would find rejection in the ones that mirrored her own. Expecting to hear a soft joke and a laugh, maybe some excuse as to why he suddenly needed to be out of there. But he was looking at her with such intensity, such lust, his golden eyes a shade darker, a mixture of emotions under the obvious ones that she couldn't really place.

She stared back, realizing she felt like a prey under his gaze, as if she had just awoken a beast. But she wasn't intimidated by it… On the contrary, all of her was screaming to let herself be eaten. And that… that she could do.

Shirayuki wasn't sure who moved first, it didn't really matter. In a moment her fingers were playing with his hair - meddling with it, uninvited but not unwelcome - while her lips opened to him, letting his experience guide her. His hands were her anchor, the pressure of them - one on her waist and the other in the lower part of her back - the only thing keeping her from flying. She was a woman of science, she knew she would most likely fall instead of fly if he released her, but she felt so light. If only she didn't feel like she was burning and he was the cool water and the raging fire at the same time.

She could feel her legs shaking under the mattress. She had heard her knight before, talking about how he knew how to light a candle in women. She never doubted it, she felt it herself more than once, but this… She was screwed because what she was feeling wasn't a candle, oh no, it was an entire forest set ablaze. A fire so tall, so wide, so hot she lost herself burning on it and, now, hours later, all that remained of her were ashes.

She forced herself up, still shocked at the lack of clothes on her body, and moved to the closet as silently as she could. She needed him to stay asleep, she wasn't ready to talk to him. Or to look at him. Or… anything, really. She just needed a bath, a walk through the gardens, maybe even shut herself in the library. He would find her, he always did, but later was better in this situation.

She tripped over her dress, the one she was wearing last night, and picked it up carefully, ready to leave it on one of the chairs until the maid came to pick it up for laundry. The soft green and black fabric practically slid through her arms before she could put it down.

Her dress was loose and it fell subtly over her breasts. He took his time lowering it, planting kisses on her neck and shoulders, biting them before reclaiming her mouth to his. She got lost on his kisses until she noticed the cold air on her chest and she breathed, waiting for his reaction. He was the first man to see her like this and she wouldn’t have wanted anyone else, not with the look he was giving her. 

Under his eyes, she felt made for him, as if she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, as if he never could look at someone the way he was looking at her. As if she was his woman. 

She got up, missing immediately his touch, and undressed completely, letting her dress fall on the floor. The only thing left on her was her green underwear. She didn’t miss the look on the golden eyes before her while she lowered her dress. She felt she could do anything in the world and that’s why she did it. She was embarrassed, yes, but those feelings disappeared completely every time he looked at her, leaving only the colour of her cheeks. 

He got up after her, one step after the other, so slowly she was about to jump at him. One of his arms hugged her waist, making her react in time to hug his neck. After a moment she felt her hair fall free on her shoulders - sometimes she almost forgot how long it was again.

As if she was a work of art in a museum he studied her, smiling, for almost a minute. Then he resumed his pace from before, kissing her shoulders, her neck, her chest…

The bath was cold, left there from the night before when neither of them found it necessary. Now she was really grateful for the sudden change of temperature even if her body was against it. It started trembling and she wasn't sure if it was because of the bath until she felt her eyes sting and her cheeks soaking. She hugged her knees with her arms and buried her face there, unable to stop her crying. She knew why… or so she thought. All the things she fought for, all the friends waiting for her… she just destroyed them all. Last night everything was crystal clear to her. It still was. But… it should have been different. She should have talked to Zen before, she should have told him that she won't be waiting for him anymore, that she simply… didn't feel the same. She hasn't since a lot of time ago. It would have been easier than going to him and saying 'Hey I slept with Obi and I realized I've been in love with him for a long time. I hope we can still be friends?'. She cried louder, hitting herself in the process. She just realized the truth of her words.

She loved him. She loved him so much she gifted herself to him without thinking about the consequences, about the damage she would do to the rest of the people in her life, including him. They… they could tear him apart from her. They could exile him from Clarines, from Lyrias. Relieve him from his duties with the kingdom. Would he leave then? Would he leave her alone, denied of her friends, of the man she truly loved? Or would he be willing to take her with him? Did he even felt the same? She didn't ask. She didn't… she didn't even tell him. Not once. She didn't even know until now, until all the pieces clicked on her head. She sniffled again. It had been a mistake.

And with that, she realized, she lied to him too.

She moved to kiss him again but he moved quicker, keeping her away. For a moment she was hurt but the look in his eyes only told her that he was not done talking.

“Shirayuki, listen to me. You may be able to live knowing you made this mistake here with me but I won’t.”

He spoke lightly, softly, like hearing a caress. The first time she heard her name from his voice and it was… beautiful. She never thought she would like her name more than coming from his lips. She needed to hear it again, every day, every hour, every minute even if it was whispered like that. She couldn't help but be quiet, waiting. Then he smiled, cupping her face with one hand and kissing her the same way his words had spoken to her. She got the feeling there were too many things she wouldn't get to hear tonight, not in words at least.

“I don’t want this to be a mistake. I don’t want us to be a mistake.”

The warm that invaded her felt odd. It wasn’t a normal warmth, it was sad, hurtful. How could he be a mistake for her? He was precious, the most precious person she had. He was always by her side, understanding her without words, making her laugh, giving her time when she needed it and lending an ear to her when she had too much going on in her mind. She could be anywhere, go anywhere, if he was with her. He allowed her to be, without masks, without politics, without a false respect.

Her heart pressed on her chest, drowning her. She felt guilty for making him think like that yet she forgot the reason behind his words. Why would this be a mistake? She didn’t know nor wanted to. It was right, it felt right. She forgot to think past that.

“Obi. This will never be a mistake. You will never be a mistake. Ever. Whatever happens tonight or the rest of my life.”

Everything hurt. From her body to her brain, but most of all, her heart. She needed to tell him. She needed him to know that, even if at this moment everything else felt wrong the only thing that didn't was him. And the night she spent with him. The years she spent with him. She would find a solution, with or without him, and she would accept his answer, even if that meant he would go again, feeling his freedom crushed by her feelings. She would accept it. But she needed him to know. Yes, it had been a mistake but not because she didn't want it, not because she didn't want him, needed him, but because she felt guilty for hurting Zen and the people who fought for them. It was simply a matter of timing.

She put on a towel after washing her face, a smile creeping on her mouth. He always understood her, she knew this time would be the same. She was lucky, so lucky to have fallen in love with him. Suddenly she needed him to know, as soon as possible.

Barefoot and with only the towel to cover her she ran to the door, opening it with more strength than was necessary, still smiling.

Her smile faltered quickly, disappearing almost immediately after finding the room empty, the bloodied sheets they left on the floor - the only proof she had that any of this had been real - nowhere to be found.

She let herself fall to the floor, her knees suddenly touching the carpet, startling her. Of course... How would she feel if she had awakened to hear Obi crying in the bathroom after what they'd done? She was so, so utterly stupid she wanted to cry again.

This was her punishment, she was sure of it. Whatever force of nature or destiny or any shit like that that was messing with her. She was tired. Tired of thinking, of crying, and of realizing things too little too late.

She wanted to go find him, to explain all that her mind explained to her minutes ago, but she knew she couldn't. Not if he didn't want to be found.

So Shirayuki crawled into the bed again, hugging the pillow that had belonged to her best friend, and hoped that the fact that she returned to sleep with her hair soaking would hide her tears.

[claudeng80]

Contour Feather (Plumage (3/4)

“I’m just saying, Obi has so many better things to do with his time, I don’t understand why he feels the need to fix me up with everyone he knows.”

“Nobody’s making you actually show up. You know he only does it because it makes you complain,” Shirayuki really wants to laugh at Yuzuri's irritation, but it would not help her argument. Instead she keeps her head down, unfolding the letter from Zen. They’ve been scarce lately, so much so she just stuffed it in her pocket this morning rather than reading it on the spot, and now it offers the prospect of an excellent change of topic, when she finds out what’s going on back at Wistal.

The smile on her face doesn’t last past the first few sentences. “I’ll send Shikito to take his place,” Zen writes. “It shouldn’t be more than a couple of months, and you can’t get into too much trouble up there in the middle of winter, right?”

She has to put the letter down right there, and Yuzuri’s watching her with a sort of concerned patience. “Zen needs Obi for a while,” she explains, and has to swallow down the sudden dryness in her mouth before she can continue. Yuzuri reaches out for the letter and it shakes in Shirayuki’s hand as she holds it out. For him to be taken away in so few words- 

A white-hot flash of anger lances through her, before she pushes that down too. It sits at the bottom of her stomach, sure to give her indigestion later. “I’m sure he’ll be happy for something more exciting to do.”

Yuzuri’s face says she’s onto her, but her mouth plays along. “Maybe it’ll cure him of complaining. Who’s this Shikito? At least tell me he’s good-looking.”

Shirayuki doesn’t have an answer for that. He’s always just been there, helpful and serious and trustworthy. She hasn’t given much thought to his looks, but his black and white wings are striking, particularly against the white cowl of the Wisteria guards. “You can find out for yourself, soon enough.”

*

The pre-dawn breeze off the mountains slices through feathers and cloak-folds like shards of glass and makes her wing-joints ache, but Shirayuki isn’t about to be the first to turn away. “I’ll be back before you know it,” Obi says, the cautious tone in his voice at odds with his earnest eyes. He’s wrapped tight against the cold, only his face and folded wings peeking out from layers of coats and capes. Most people would take a horse for the distance to Wistal, but not Obi.

“Don’t forget to rest,” she orders, because if she can’t say what she means, she can at least say what he expects. It’s a comfortable routine, but it doesn’t satisfy her. Something’s not being said, something left hanging in the air between them, but she doesn’t know how to answer what he won’t ask, so when he laughs and shrugs on his pack instead of responding, she just watches his fingers tighten the buckles.

With a fluid hop he’s perched on the railing, looking back over his shoulder to meet her eyes for a second as though he’s memorizing the sight, and then the tips of his flight feathers brush her on the downstroke and he’s diving for speed and arcing upward into the dimness and away to the south. Her own wings twitch, ready to chase him down, grab at his hands and figure out what’s missing, but Shikito coughs pointedly and when she jumps a spray of ice sheds from her feathers and patters against the pavement. Warmth beckons, and behind her an already-missed silhouette fades into the darkness.

*

Watching Shikito flirt with Yuzuri doesn’t make time pass any faster, but at least it’s entertaining. He accompanies the two women to the market, where every week they like to comb through the agricultural vendors for interesting and useful goods. The levels of interesting and useful vary from week to week, and this time Yuzuri is more distracted than not. It’s almost a relief to stop for lunch at an open-air bakery, where Shirayuki can watch people in the market and the other two don’t have to feel like they’re excluding her while they’re wrapped up in talking together.

It is sickeningly cute, and she’s rooting for them. Shikito’s a good soul, having forgiven her right away for the trauma of their first meeting. It was a big day, where he had to arrest a peer of a realm and she ended up in a lake. Then she got hauled back to Wistal in the saddle behind Obi, their waterlogged wings tangling and constantly frightening the horse. The ride was endless, with Obi looking back with this worried look of apology on his face every time his feathers brushed against her, while all she cared about was the heat of his body keeping her from chills. It was a tribute to his horsemanship that they both didn’t end up in the dirt. 

“Hello-o, Shirayuki!” Yuzuri flutters a hand in front of her face. “You’re far away.”

“We could send a messenger bird,” Shikito says, and when Shirayuki levels him with the look that comment deserves, he laughs. She’s rarely seen him so relaxed. “I need you to vouch for my character.”

“He says that blue feathers are considered a sign of ultimate beauty in the east. It sounds like a line to me.” Her wings drape over the back of her chair, spread loosely so all her colors and patterns are in plain view. If Yuzuri is trying to intimidate him, she’s missing the mark. They’re both looking far too charmed.

“It’s true! Natural blues are even rarer than here. Some people even tie birds’ feathers into their own to fake it - who did you think Brecker was planning to sell the Yuris birds to? Ask Sir Obi when he gets back, he’ll confirm it.”

Shirayuki’s eyes meet Yuzuri’s with matching confusion, and Shikito doesn’t miss the silence. “Is that not where he’s from? He’s got the accent and the look.”

He says it so casually, for a revelation of that magnitude. Yuzuri recovers first. “So what you’re saying is I should move east and I’ll be irresistible?”

She doesn’t hear Shikito respond. Across the square the silhouette of dark wings arrests her vision, held narrow and tensed to fly. She’s on her feet and running before she even sees his face, but it’s him, he’s back and he’s from the east where blue is irresistible and that might not mean anything but somehow she knows it does. Her feet stumble, her wings catching her and bearing her up, and the look on Obi’s face is disbelief as she stumble-flies her way toward him, catching herself at last against his arms. Her hands lock around his wrists, but it’s not close enough even now. As she lets go his face starts to settle into a more normal greeting, but she flings her arms around his chest and buries her face in his shoulder.

And there it is, the smell of her mystery feather. She’s known it all along. She opens her eyes and scattered among the black feathers her face is pillowed on are stars of iridescent blue. They grow thicker into the coverts of his wings, broadening into a solid band of color.

She leans back and reaches to run a finger along the nearest blue feather, watching it shimmer with the light as it bends. “I missed you,” she says, and when her gaze reaches his face he’s still staring at where her finger touches him. “These are just as beautiful as I imagined.”

He tears himself out of her arms without a word, launching into flight from a dead stop, and she catches sight through the gaps of his jacket of a bandage across his chest.

*

His room is too small a cage for feelings like this. Three steps and he whirls, wingtips beating against the walls with every turn. A glass tips over in the wind of his passage and he stops to right it. He should stop stalling. He should go. Obi of years ago would have been out the window long since, left all these complications behind and shaken the dust of this place from his feathers. But it’s been years since he decided leaving was no longer an option, since the open sky stopped beckoning and Lilias started to feel like home. Tearing himself away now would be so much more painful than pulling out feathers.

The tiny mirror above his washstand is crooked. He straightens it, trying not to dwell on how clearly he can see he’s let himself go. He hasn’t seen his full mating plumage in years, the reflection showing the man who didn’t care about anything beyond his next meal and his next bedpartner. It was all too easy for him back then.

He doesn’t know that man anymore. Nothing he wants these days is easy. 

“Ah,” says a voice at his door, and his mistress must be slipping, to be so slow. Ryuu’s found him first. “So that’s it.”

“I didn’t mean to! Zen had me on the wing constantly, and the Bergatts had hired assassins-” He doesn’t mean for it to be an apology, doesn’t mean to plead, but somehow his mouth doesn’t get the message. “I couldn’t afford to pull them this year. It took everything I had.”

Ryuu seems to be able to tell that he’s not the one Obi’s really making excuses to, but his eyes settle on the bandage with intention. Nothing is secret anymore. “You don’t have to cripple yourself for us to like you. You should keep them.”

“She likes them. She said they were beautiful.” He can’t look at Ryuu, can’t make him understand how this is the worst betrayal of all. There’s a tangled ball of hair and down wedged against the leg of his table, so he grabs the broom to sweep it free and toss it out the window.

“I like them too. They’re you. I don’t see the problem.”

“I told you I never wanted to be a distraction-”

“Then you’re too late. She’s got one of your feathers, and she’s been looking for you since last spring. You should let her find you.” Obi never thought he’d see Ryuu being wry, but it’s apparently a day full of conversations he didn’t expect. “Have her look at your wound, too, if you’re not going to come by the pharmacy like you’re supposed to.”

He leaves Obi alone with his broom and the nagging sense of something unfinished. Usually he just sleeps there, barely even actually looks at the place, but for once he’s wishing he’d hung something on the walls, maybe picked up a nice patterned rug- it’s all disappointingly plain. He has just enough time to make his bed and finish banishing the dust-chicks before his door slams open once again.

“So this is what you’re allergic to,” Shirayuki starts, and she’s no less tiny than ever but with every feather fluffed in irritation she forces him back. “Letting us know you have blue feathers.”

“I should have known you were too smart to accept that for long. The soap is very nice, though.” His room is more utilitarian than comfortable, but he does have one chair. He nudges it toward Shirayuki and feels so much better when she sits down. As many times as he’s told himself she won’t send him away, his heart has never trusted anyone enough to take the risk.

“Did you think we would judge you? Shikito told us how things are in the east- but you already know it’s different here.”

“I do.” It was never about everyone. It was only ever about her. 

“They’re beautiful, you know.” She’s beautiful. Her hair is mussed from her flight here and one of her buttons is done askew, and the tips of her flight feathers trail onto his newly clean floor. She lets her guard down for him. He wants to hide behind his wings, seeing that, hearing those words from her, but there’s something even more important he has to do.

He’s put it off this long, telling himself he would leave them as a secret surprise for her or maybe a wedding gift. But if he had to be honest, this is what he always hoped for. The box hidden in his bedside table can wait no longer. He’s careless with his wings as he turns for it, flight feathers brushing against Shirayuki’s legs, and he sweeps his wings as high and as fast as he can in reflex. He’s always tried so hard to avoid burdening her, but when he looks back over his shoulder, there’s a look on her face and a hand outstretched that says his touch is far from unwelcome. One wing flickers, a single quick motion, as he watches, and a blush paints the apples of her cheeks.

Obi takes one more deep breath, shaking the single blue seed out of the box into the palm of his hand. Showtime.

He keeps his wings half-spread as he turns back to face her, letting the light from the window play upon his blue stripe in full. She’s supposed to admire the show, but her gaze drops to his hands instead. It’s like she knows what’s coming. “I have a gift for you.”

[sabraeal]

and all my winding roads have led me here (to you), Part 2

[Read on AO3]

Obiyukiweek 2022, Day 1: Beauty and the Beast Kindness, Night, Curse

The (Clarines) version of the song sung in this fic is this one written by @what-plant-metaphor-am-i! The second I heard it I knew it would have to be the one I used for the fic; hopefully she enjoys the raunchy Tanbarun version I made in return

I’m not much for people, Obi told her once, back before they’d known just how much coal would last a burner for a winter night, or how many miles of a sea a ship could cut across with all hands and sails unfurled. I don’t tend to stick around.

And yet, as the scholars of Lilias press around him, laughing at the flaps on his cap or plucking at the golden buttons of his coat, she realizes: he’s rarely without a crowd. In the training yard the recruits follow him like ducklings, waddling after him with wide eyes and rounder mouths; in the palace’s halls he’s always flanked by Makiri and his captains, discussing some patrol or another; and here, with her scholars, he’s the life of the party, everyone jostling elbows to come close and chuckle at the latest joke going round the guardhouse. No matter where she takes him, Obi is at the center of everything, and she--

She doesn’t know how to break through. Not the way she would have just minutes ago, slipping though with a smile and enjoying the way his arm would relax beneath her palm. Your cheeks are flushed, she’d say, a tease and a scold wrapped up in one. Don’t you know you need to keep warm up on your wall?

How easy it would have been to lead him away, to sit him by the fire and fend off the offers of too many drinks, curling into his side as simply as she always had and let his voice ease the hours away.

And now it is impossible. Yuzuri’s giggle echoes in her ears, and no matter which way she turns it over him her mind, looks like Obi needs to be warmed up, no longer conjures those conversations cozened in a forgotten corner, but instead--

Instead she thinks of his coat. Not this one the guard has given him, too short to warm much of anything, only making him look tall and lean beneath the heft of his cloak, but the old one. It’d hung long, the way Mitsuhide’s always had, more tunic than jacket in the Sereg way. Even when it fell open at the collar, Shirayuki had thought it looked warm, like a blanket someone might huddle under while the snow fell.

And it’s only a hop, a skip, a jump to think of it open to the waist, of how she might be so small as to fit inside it so long as she pressed close. How his own heat might mingle with hers, the way it had beneath the covers on Lilias’s coldest nights, and he--

Oh no, he’s coming toward her.

It’s tempting to do what’s always worked before: turn tail and run, hoping her good sense can catch up to her before he can. But there’s no use; if Zen chased her down in that wood without even breaking a sweat, a crowded room won’t even make Obi break stride. All it might get her is hurt feelings, and Obi-- Obi deserves better than that from her. He’s earned better than that.

So instead she plants herself on the carpet with all the courage of a deer before a carriage, legs trembling from the effort.

“Miss!” He can’t have grown since this morning, and yet she doesn’t remember having to crane her neck so much to bridge the gulf between their eyes. “I thought I saw you hiding back here.”

“I’m not hiding.” For all her speculation about the sort of warmth she could steal if she burrowed under his jacket, she hardly needs it. He stands close enough that she could reach out her hand and touch him with arm to spare, and still she feels his heat, barely muted by fabric and space. “I was just...cutting the cake.”

His glove splays over his chest; a gesture meant to be a joke, rather than a reminder of how large his hands are. “Without me? The guest of honor?”

“It’s not as if you’re the only one,” she informs him loftily. “There’s three of us, and we did have a majority.”

His brows lift, just enough to crinkle his scar. “That’s a very democratic celebration from a royal pharmacist.”

Her mouth twitches. “I get it from my father.”

“Now that I can see.” There’s a light in his eyes as he leans closer, a spark that dances as he says, “And Yuzuri getting punchy around drink three for something with enough cream to moo might have helped too, huh?”

“W-well.” Her back bumps into the table, jostling the dishes. “That might have had something to do with it.”

His hum rumbles in her ears, loud as if she were touching him, as if her bones themselves were conducting the sound even though there’s enough space still for someone to slip between them. It’s her only warning before that space disappears, the scent of leather and winter’s chill washing over her as Obi reaches out, lighting fast, to swipe a swirl of cream.

That would be bad enough to set her poor heart galloping in her chest, confused and skittish as a horse without its blinders, but then his mouth closes around that finger, sucking off the cream, and-- and--

Her mind goes utterly blank.

“Delicious,” he sighs, tongue trailing over his lips. “I’ll give it to Yuzuri, she sure knows how to pick a cake.”

“Here,” Shirayuki manages, her voice sounding as if it’s coming from down the hall rather than her own mouth. “Have some.”

It’s nothing to lift a plate from the table and shove it into his hands, and yet, she still nearly mangles it, getting half his fingers covered in frosting and the other half all tangled up in her own. If she’d been hoping to make some space between them, she’s sure done a botch job of it.

His skin has always been darker than hers, copper to her ivory, but it’s all the more apparent when his fingers wiggle, cream wobbling treacherously where it’s heaped on his knuckles. Obi blinks, eyes wide as he contemplates the mess she’s made, and the moment he opens his mouth, she-- she--

Well, she can’t help but wonder if he’ll lick them clean.

He doesn’t. “Here I was coming over here to see if I could get you something. And instead you’re the one getting me cake.”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about me,” she assures him, too breathless, not at all contemplating the uses of her own tongue. Not like it’s doing anything useful right now besides making her stumble over every word anyway. “It’s right here! if I want something I can just get it.”

It’s obscene how his mouth curls, that lop-sided smile of sending a jolt of-- of something straight down to her toes and back again. “I wasn’t talking about the cake.”

There’s a rumble in his chest, and-- and it must be new. It wouldn’t startle her otherwise, jolting her one step back and making all the silverware clatter on the tablecloth. “Y-you weren’t? Then--?”

But if he did want you. Yuzuri’s slur burrows into her ears, a burr she can’t shake off. Would that change anything?

It wouldn’t. It couldn’t, because it’s-- it’s impossible. Obi may be discreet, but he’s not subtle, not about something like this. If he’d been able to keep his opinions to himself, Mitsuhide wouldn’t need to look over his shoulder every time he picked up a dropped paper. On the other hand, Kiki wouldn’t know just how powerful she was without her coat on in the yard, and, well--

The point is, if Obi felt even the slightest stirring when she entered the room, he would have-- she would have--

“I thought you might want a drink.” His chin bobs toward her. “You’re over here empty handed when we all know just how you feel about Suzu’s cider.”

This time he does raise his hand, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as he bends to take it into his mouth, and she--

She squeaks. “I don’t think I’ll be drinking tonight.”

That draws him up short, unfortunately. Or maybe fortunately? Shirayuki can’t tell. “Miss, are you--?”

“I think I hear Yuzuri,” she blurts out, skirting a step around him. “Calling me, that is. So I better...”

She tries for an elegant bob of the head, something that said I’m leaving while also implying, but not for any reason that concerns you. Hopefully with enough confidence to add, don’t check.

If the way Obi’s eyebrows furrow is any indication, she fails on every count. “Miss, is there something--?”

She’d been hoping for a graceful exit, but in the end, Shirayuki will take full-on flight over having to talk about this any day.

“See you later,” she manages, nearly tripping over one of the girls from the geology department. “Enjoy the cake!”

In the end, Shirayuki does take that drink, though from a far safer distance if not from a steadier pair of hands.

“Here.” Yuzuri presses a warm mug on her with a laugh, cider sloshing over the rim. “Looks like you need it.”

Shirayuki suspects that she might be right.

It’s by the same magic that Yuzuri manages the second; appearing out of the crowd like some otherworldly creature, hair a tangled halo and earmuffs askew, before disappearing once more. Someone’s brought out a mandolone, and another a pipe, and with half the pharmacy’s day shift beating their hands on the table, something approaching music hangs in the air.

“Well the first snow has fallen,” a voice strains against the noise, pitched too high too start and too soft to hold, “and the second, third and fourth--”

She loses the thread of the melody, but it comes back in force when half the party shouts out, “Because we’re up so bloody north!”

A giggle bubbles out of her, and though these aren’t the words she’d grown up with-- those wouldn’t be fit for this sort of company, no matter what Yuzuri likes to encourage her to-- her toes set to tapping, and when it comes time for the second verse, she shouts out as loud the rest of the revelers, “cos we get twice the night!”

It’s then that her ear catches his voice, keeping up with the third verse, even if the rest of them can only stumble through. There’s as many as twelve to this one-- Suzu told her once when he’d found some notes about it in the archives, trying to win a bet about the wording of completely different song-- but she’s never heard more than five, and most of the scholars seem to know only a the first two plus whichever verse tickles them most.

But Obi’s always been a quick learner; when the last of his fellow singers bow out with a laugh, he tells the mandolone player to pick up the pace and launched into--

Ah, well. The verses she knew. At least, as much as she could hear through her grandmother’s hands.

“’Let us lay down together,’ the little herbwife said--” it’s strange how loud her voice is in her ears, the burr of his deepest notes shivering through her bones where he tempts the edge of his range-- “for a back on the mattress is the best treatment for the head--”

Ah, she’s never quite noticed that entendre, not until Obi’s smile wraps around it like a promise.

“--now the answer to your problem with which your questions begs--” the melody stretches his talents the other way now, climbing up the octave, but his voice doesn’t crack an inch-- “has always been best found right between the legs.”

It shouldn’t mean anything, not at all, but his eyes meet hers and-- and--

Obi looks like he knows a lot about that, Yuzuri had said, too confident. A lot, a lot--

Her hand slaps to her cheek, not nearly cool enough to quell its burning. That’s quite enough of that.

Yuzuri ambushes her with the third drink, flushed and jingling from the bells someone’s hung around her neck. Shirayuki’s tempted to wave her off-- the room’s already starting to sway, and if she tries anything more athletic than wall-leaning, she might have some distinct issues with the direction of flow in her esophageal region-- but instead she takes it, nursing it like Lata does his rocks.

It’s a mistake; this many drinks makes her thoughtful. If Obi had been watching, he would have kept her from making it. Occupational hazard, he would have told her, plucking it from her hand. Don’t need to be following you off any towers tonight.

But he’s not. No, instead he’s caught in a corner with a handful of scholars from the philosophical sciences, looking more entertained by the minute. One of them can’t be much older than Ryuu, but her head tilts just so, a fountain of loose blonde curls frothing over her shoulder, and her hand comes to rest on his arm. Obi glances down, eyebrows lifting barely more than a twitch, and she expects him to slip away, to put space between them the way he always does when she attempts to bridge that gulf.

And yet, he doesn’t. Instead his lips curl at one corner, those sharp eyes of his fixed to where hers keep flapping. The way Zen’s would after his interest wandered, weary of more mundane matters and eager to-- to--

Ah. Well. Perhaps she shouldn’t be watching so closely then. It may be a public venue, but there’s no reason for her to spy on anything so, er, intimate. Or at least, heading toward that quarter. Obi deserves better than serving as her entertainment.

Still, it’s an effort to look away, to drag her attention anywhere but where he stands, the same way it had been when she and Zen had stumbled upon his date in the marketplace all those years ago. I’m done with all that, he’d laughed later, walking her home. Too messy for me.

But now...

She shakes her head. He couldn’t have been twenty-five when he said that, still struggling to grow much more than stubble on his cheeks. Shirayuki may have chosen plants over a partner, a career over being cooped up in the castle, but that doesn’t mean that Obi has to follow suit.

He’d never shown much of an interest, abstaining from all the same banquets and being flowers on all the same walls when propriety forced them into them anyway, but she can understand how it might appeal to a commander of the guard when so many of his junior officers were so keen to be wed. Just last week, Hiro had come by her office to give her the invitation to his in person, beaming as he told her about the lady scholar he’d be making his wife in only a month’s time.

If that’s what Obi wants, then she’s happy to support him. It’s only--

If he had been an option, Yuzuri’s words echo, loud even in the din, would that have changed anything?

It’s silly to even entertain it. She never had been, save for maybe those first few weeks, when he was all sharp edges and she might have posed some challenge. But now that he knows her-- maybe even better than anyone ever has--

Well, he would have done something, wouldn’t he? Said something. He flirts with her the same as anyone, but there’s no heat in it; he only likes to skirt propriety, to see what might make her squirm. If there was any more to it than that, he’d seek out her touch rather than tolerate it, closing that distance between their bodies for some other reason than duty. A hand on her hip, a breath over the skin over her neck, pin her to a wall...

Oh! Well. The cider might have warmed her, but that’s done quite a bit more. An interesting idea to think on, for...academic purposes. Not because--

“Looks like you’re just about done for the night.”

There’s laughter in Obi’s eyes as he slips the mug from her numb fingers. Her eyes catch on his open collar as he bends, gaping to bear the touchable skin of his throat. “H-huh?”

“You’re all flushed.” He smiles, one side tugging higher than the other, more fond than salacious. “You want to catch a breath, Miss? Maybe take a turn outside?”

“Ah...” She considers the room, the thick press of bodies that only seems to grow more cloying as the night goes on-- and then thinks of how it would be if it were just her and Obi, his heat radiating through the wool of his coat--

Shirayuki bobs her head, hoping it’s the right direction for a yes.

“Good,” he sighs, a laugh hidden inside it. “I’m dying to be able to hear myself think for a minute.”

Lilias may no longer be steeped in winter, the cold no longer burning every sliver of skin uncovered, but snow still coats what’s not cobble, squatting in slumped piles made months before. The breeze riffles through her cloak like a thief, still brisk even if it lacks all the bite of the nights before, stealing the break from her lungs and warmth from her pockets.

To think, if she stayed in Wistal, she would be wearing linen instead of wool and still sweating. Ah, no, worse-- her birthday would be a day earmarked on the court’s social calendar, a momentous occasion for her to fed and feted until she could hardly stand to see another cake. There would be no time to stand beneath the night sky, tracing the same lines the ancient scholars did between the stars; no quiet to escape to when the din grew too loud. Princesses lived for their people, after all.

There were reasons she hadn’t chosen that life. Good ones, better than just simple inconvenience. But tonight, as her breath mists trails into the late spring chill, it’s the petty ones that give her the most comfort.

A cape drops heavily across her shoulders, chasing away winter’s icy fingers. Her hands fly up, but she only manages to brush fingertips before Obi’s touch scuttles away. There it is again; she reaches, he retreats.

And yet it’s not far enough for his warmth to leave her, a tangible pressure at her shoulder. “Something the matter, Miss?”

She blinks, craning her neck until she meets the concern in his eyes. “Hm?”

“You’re quiet.” A corner of his mouth threatens to cant, trembling where he holds it steady. A perfect place for lips, her mind offers her, unbidden. “Which means you’re up to something.”

“Oh!” She tears her gaze away, letting it skitter over the stones like snow on the wind. “No. I wasn’t...I was only thinking.”

His laugh clouds the corner of her vision. “Ah, Miss. Don’t you know that’s worse?”

It’s odd to be so low at this time of night; usually their nighttime wanderings bring them along the wall, the whole of Lilias spread out beneath their feet. But tonight there are no twinkling lights below them, only the ones above, caught in the aurora’s current. “Should I be dissatisfied with my life, do you think?”

He shifts at her shoulder, all that confidence of his turned uncertain. She has a gift for doing that to him, for some reason. “Wanna run that by me again?”

“That’s what you’re supposed to do at thirty, isn’t it?” She deflates with a sigh, her back bowing into his chest. He stiffens beneath the touch, but tolerates it. He likes her that much at least. “Think you haven’t done enough.”

“Ha.” The sound rattles along her spine before it ever makes it out of his mouth. “I think that’s for other people, Miss. Ones who haven’t spread Phostyrias across the North, or helped keep a civil war from spilling across Clarines soil. Or has that-- that stuff--?”

Rumor might paint Obi’s tongue silver, but it doesn’t make science any easier for him to speak. “Fervidus argens.”

“Right, that.” His shoulder twitches at her back, at least half a shrug. “Someone who hasn’t made that into something more than a bad night at the banquet.”

“I suppose that’s all impressive.” Her fingers clench at his cape, drawing it tighter around her shoulders until she’s enveloped in his scent, leather and pine and southern spice. “But...”

“But?”

“There’s things I haven’t done.” Her head tilts, just enough to meet his eyes as she tells him, “Gotten you to say my name, for one.”

Obi’s skin isn’t one to show a blush, not even as pale as it’s gotten up here, away from the sun. But still, his ears pink, just at the tips. “Miss...”

She takes pity on him, turning her attention back to the stars. “And according to Yuzuri, I’ve missed out on my chance for romance.”

He’s quiet then; the sort that’s far too thoughtful for something so silly, lasting entirely too long.

“If you wanted that,” he begins, voice rough as if he’d let a team of horses drag it gate to gate both ways. “Master would have--”

“Please.” Her hand flies into the space between them, and oh, she’s clearly had too much, since her fingertips take extra care in closing his mouth. “Don’t do that. I’m not-- I wasn’t trying to talk about Zen. There’s no regrets there, Obi. We did what was right for the both of us.”

And one of us was hurt far less by it than we expected, she nearly says, but his silence stifles it the way words never could. It’s not an absence of sound, the way she’s used to, but one that prickles with what’s unsaid. She and Zen might have said their piece about the dwindling end of their road together, but Obi-- Obi had only watched.

His jaw flexes beneath her hand, and she lets it fall away. It would serve her right if he scolded her now; leaving Zen behind had been her choice, but Obi’s future had always been mixed up in theirs, the way Kiki or Mitsuhide’s never was. His position depended on her being the second prince’s princess, someone deserving of protection, and she-- she let it all slip through her fingers, as easy as sand through an hourglass.

Whatever she expects, it’s not for him to say, “Did you want one? A romance?”

“No.” It comes out harsher than she means. “I mean, it’s never been a priority. I’ve always had other things to worry about. But sometimes...”

Her mouth works, but it take a few minutes before she manages to get out, “Sometimes I think about my mother. And my father. They had me when they were hardly twenty, and I...”

She swallows, hard. “I wonder if by choosing all this, I’ve given up to have that. Ah, have a family, I mean.”

It’s a silly thing, she knows it, but Obi doesn’t laugh. No, when she turns to look at him, he’s serious, those narrow brows of his drawn tight over the blade of his nose. “You know, if you’re worried about that, you could do what Yuzuri did.”

Shirayuki blinks. “What’s that?”

White flashes in the dim. “Make a pact with Suzu.”

“W-wha--?”

He slips around her, grin far too wide. “If she’s thirty and no one better’s come along, then he’ll get her pregnant.”

Distantly, she’s aware that her jaw’s just hanging there, open for the world to see, but there’s little and less she can do about it. “Yuzuri did what?”

He’s far too pleased when he offers, “I bet if you hurry, Suzu would be happy to help you too.”

Perhaps if she hadn’t sipped at that last cider, she might be able to hide her grimace. Or at least soften it into something else.

“Aw, c’mon, Miss. Don’t be like that.” His grin only widens, hovering far too close. “Think about it. Your kids would be half-siblings! Other girls might have double weddings, but you’d be sister wi--”

Her hand jumps up again, covering his mouth. This is becoming a bad habit. “I don’t want children that badly!”

It’s terrible how nice it feels to have his finger wrap around her wrist, even worse than the smile that presses into her palm. He pulls it down just enough to eke out, “But a sibling would be good for Little Ryuu--”

“Oh shush,” she murmurs, even as she lets her hand go limp in his grip. “He’s old enough to be a father himself, if he wanted.”

Obi shudders. “Perish the thought. But if you don’t want Suzu, there’s plenty of books in the library. I bet if you asked Kazaha--”

Her cheeks hurt from the way they pull. “Kaza--? Obi, you know that he--”

“You’re right,” Obi agrees too easily. “He’d never go for it out of the gate. Maybe if you went to one of his poetry readings?”

A laugh bursts out of her, unbidden. “Oh, please, stop.”

“What about the guy in geology? What’s his name?” Obi never forgets a name or a face, especially one that’s introduced itself to her. But he makes a good show of it, using her own fingers to tap his chin as he muses, “Daiki? Daisuke?”

“Daichi,” she supplies wearily, tamping down on the laugh that threatens to bubble out. “And I don’t want him or Kazaha to father my children, thank you.”

“Playing hard to get, are you?” he hums, brows leaping up his forehead. “Well, I suppose we could send out for Shikito. Or maybe ask Miss Kiki if she’d be willing to let Mister out of the stables--”

“Obi!” It’s impossible keep that laugh behind her teeth, not when she’s already gasping as he winds up to offer the next crop of unfortunately. “Please! I don’t want either of them. Or any of these ridiculous...parent pacts! I only--”

He tugs on her wrist, and it’s a misjudgement on his part; even without the cider, her laughter makes her helpless. They both stumble, careening back until his hits a pillar, and she--

She lands squarely on his chest. Or maybe his stomach, from the way he winces.

“Oh, come on, Miss,” he groans, head leaning back against the column. “Just give me a name. No, a hint. I promise--”

“If I was going to choose anyone,” she blurts out, too breathless, “it would be you.”

Her wrist aches where he grips it, so hard she nearly winces before it falls away altogether. He might have even put more space between them, if she wasn’t resting directly on his chest, palms keeping him pinned to the pillar. Instead he just stares down at her, wary as a cat caught in a corner, eyes too large in his face.

“I didn’t mean...” That I want to have sex with you, she means to say, except-- except she’s all too aware now why her breath quickens when he enters a room, or why her stomach flips when he bends closer than he usually dares, smile near enough to see the cracks on his lips. “It’s only that I...I trust you. We’ve been together long than...” Most couples we know. “...Zen and I ever were in the same place!”

Ah, that’s...worse.

“And, uh...” She clears her throat, trying on a smile that doesn’t quite fit. “You work has better hours.”

“Ah-haah. Well,” he manages weakly, not quite meeting her eyes. “That’s the sort of pragmatic consideration I expect from you, Miss.”

Shirayuki levers herself away, letting the chill slip between them. For once, Obi looks relieved.

Ha, and to think, Yuzuri has called him an option.

“Don’t worry, Obi.” she murmurs, staring down at where her hands grip each other, rather than him. “I would never impose on you like that. Or your happiness! Not with some silly pact or whatever. I mean, you looked like you having a good time tonight with that girl--”

“Girl.” He does look at her now, purpose honing his attention to an edge. “What girl?”

“Ah, the one you were talking to just a little while ago.” It was a mistake to have said something, but now that it’s out there, she can’t possibly take it back. She just has to forge on, regretting every word that falls out of her mouth. “Just before you brought me that drink. You, er, looked like you were having a nice time.”

“Ah, right.” He rubs at his mouth, and she could swear there’s the barest hint of a smile peeking through. “Her. Of course.”

When he peels himself from his pillar, it’s with an aching slowness, the sort that makes time stretch with anticipation as his hips roll up and the rest of him follows. Even standing, his saunter is so slow the half expects dawn to come before he reaches her, the bustle of the university breaking this moment’s spell.

But it doesn’t; instead he comes close, enough that the wool of his jacket brushes the palms of her raised hands.

“You know...” His voice rumbles through the arcade, humming at that frequency that makes her question the density of her own bones. “If you’d asked...”

“M-mm?” It’s an effort to make even that much of a noise, at least as long as it isn’t a squeak.

He leans in, breath fanning over her face and he murmurs, “I would have said yes, Shirayuki.”

Her ears ring, so loud that she can’t possibly have heard him. Not when he said-- when she thought he said-- “W-what?”

“Ah...” With no warning at all, he steps away, cold air rushing between them. His smile stretches too tight across his face, every line of his body wrong as he tells her, “Don’t worry about it, Miss.”

He makes to retreat, eyes slipping away from hers as his body turns, the space between them ever increasing, gaping--

And she panics. Her fingers hook on the thick fabric of his sleeve, halting him as quick as a dropped anchor. “Miss...?”

“Say it again,” she breathes, clenching tight, wool balled against her palm. “Please.”

He blinks, lost. “What--?”

“My name.” She dares to glance up, and it’s impossible to tell if he’s stepped closer or she’s dragged him, but his eyes are impossibly close, searching her. “Say it again, please.”

His breath hitches. “Shirayuki--”

It’s strange how easy it is to vault that insurmountable space; all it takes is pulling him down as she rises up, and they meet as inexorably as the tide and the shore. His lips are cold against hers, but that’s hardly a hurdle, not when they open on a gasp, and she-- she isn’t sure if she’s doing it right or well, but for a moment she buzzes wherever they touch, a puzzle electrified to find it’s missing piece--

And then his hands are on her shoulders, settling her back on her heels. “Miss!” he yelps, voice cracking on the vowel. “I didn’t mean you needed to start right now!”

“I...” It rushes back to her, Yuzuri’s foolish pact and Obi’s rumbling. Her cheeks are already flushed, but they burn now, tongue tripping over itself to untangle, “That’s not what I meant! Or, er, that’s not what I’m doing. No, wait, I mean...that’s not why I...”

His chest heaves under her hands, and-- her hands.  She’s no longer just gripping his sleeve, but pressing him back, forcing him against the pillar. And he--

He’s arched into the touch, not simply tolerating, not anymore. No, he might be trying to put space between them, but every muscle is strained to keep it. As if it was an effort to keep from melting into her, as if--

As if she were an option. “Then what--?”

It’s impossible to explain how much she’s come to abhor the space between them, how every inch mocks her with how long she’s left it open. When after all these years, she could have simply leaned into him and felt what it was to steal his breath, to make his eyes as dark and wild as they are now.

So she shows him instead. Slower this time, not yanking him down to her, but slowly unfurling up into him, her lips brushing his with a softness that makes her ache in places she’s only heard of in Yuzuri’s books. His chest trembles beneath her palms, but it’s the only movement he makes, the rest of him frozen under her touch. It’s enough to make her hesitate, to wonder if maybe she had wanted him to want her too much, and he--

He cups the back of her head, pulling her impossibly closer, until there seems to be no beginning or end to their bodies, just this unending warmth as his tongue curls behind her teeth. Now it’s her turn for her breath to catch, for her to sigh into his mouth when his fingers trace shivers down her spine. Her her to moan when his hand curves over her hip and--

And suddenly the space is back.

“Ah, Miss,” he laughs, breathless enough that she wants to leap across the gap, to swallow it down and feel it ring in her own chest. But he’s already moving away, slipping out from between her fingers like smoke. “I think you’ve had a few too many tonight.”

She blinks. “What do you mean?”

What happened to Shirayuki? she means to say, but he’s already shaking his head, chagrined. “Nothing, nothing. It’s just...late.”

She can’t argue that point, not when it was already late when he arrived, and now it’s only gotten later still.

“We should...” He lets out a shuddering sigh, body twisted like she may not notice if he doesn’t face her while he does it. “You should really get back to you room. Sleep some of this cider off. I’d hate to see the kind of morning you’re going to have if you don’t.”

Perhaps she really has had too much; to her there’s no earthly reason to stop, to put this space back between them. But she doesn’t know how to put those feelings to words, only, “Will you walk me back?”

His smile is strained when he replies, “Of course, Miss. What else am I here for?”

[rekutopia]

In which Shirayuki came home to a surprise (part 1)

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

The sun had long set when Shirayuki walked back home, though it was only shortly after six. The wet November chill hung heavily in the air and made her shiver despite her duffle coat. With half of her face buried into her thick scarf, she pulled her shoulders together and moved as quickly as her freezing toes allowed. The little pharmacist was usually miserable in this kind of weather, but this evening there were little jubilant skips in her steps. 

It’s finally over.

After almost two agonizing years, there was no more struggle. No more sleepless nights, no more angry tears. No more interrogations disguised as interviews and no more tedious negotiations with lawyers. There was no need to scan the surroundings for pesky press whenever she got out of the house anymore. At long last, she could breathe freely again.

GG Pharmacy was now officially a part of the Wisteria Hospital.

When the first blackmail attempt appeared at the beginning of last year, Shirayuki didn't think that the matter would turn into a big scandal. Why, because it was based on false accusations. GG Pharmacy was indicted to give special treatment to doctors from certain hospitals to gain extra profit – how preposterous!

At first, they ignored the threats, thinking they were empty. But then they noticed that more and more partners started to question their credibility and even express their wish to withdraw from their cooperation. When one day a summons landed in their mailbox they knew they had to take measures.

It wasn’t easy to clear their name and regain their reputation. Looking back, Shirayuki was grateful for every individual who had helped her make it through the scandalous dispute. 

The detectives, who uncovered the syndicate behind the whole affair. The U-Syndicate was known to infiltrate pharmacies with their men and sell modified drugs that left the patients helplessly addicted to them. If that wasn’t successful they would then try to bring down the whole pharmacy and replace it with one of their own. While Shirayuki has heard of them, she never thought that a small, inconspicuous neighbourhood pharmacy like GG Pharmacy would be one of their targets.

She was grateful for Zen Wisteria. It was pure coincidence that they met. The general counsel of Wisteria Hospital was scouting the pharmacies around the area for a cooperation as a hospital pharmacy. Since Dr. Gazelt was busy dealing with the syndicate matter she sent Shirayuki in her place to talk with him. Despite their dire situation, Zen believed in their innocence, and their lunches quickly became strategy meetings. Zen also provided GG Pharmacy with the best – though also the most expensive – lawyer in town.

She was grateful for Izana Wisteria, the board chairman of Wisteria Hospital. He was willing to overlook the scandal and let his brother persuade him to partner with GG Pharmacy. If it weren’t for this cooperation, it would be much harder for them to get back on their feet. The broken connections with their former business partners would be challenging to re-establish. Attaining new ones would be nearly impossible in the beginning. Though Shirayuki still found the tall, blond man rather unreadable and sometimes even intimidating, she had great respect for him.

She was grateful for Yuzuri and her late-night hot cocoa, ready to slap her on her back whenever she started to lose faith during the whole turmoil. Since Yuzuri was a part-time worker the whole scandal didn’t affect her as much mentally as financially – at some point, they were forced to reduce her hours temporarily. But she was always cheerful when she clocked in and that never failed to lift Shirayuki’s spirit.

Most of all, she was grateful for Obi. All the time at work, Shirayuki managed to keep a strong facade in front of everyone. She couldn’t cause Dr. Gazelt and Yuzuri more worries, so she kept her anger and frustration to herself. Until one day she couldn’t anymore and her poor, bewildered flatmate then found her in a quivering heap on the couch.

Obi was her only shoulder to cry on, the only person outside of work she could talk to about the matter. He never pried, always giving Shirayuki time to unfurl the story bit by bit, whenever she felt like it. Even when she wordlessly invaded his personal space after her first breakdown, he let her cuddle up to him and gave her comfort.

Obi was also the one who picked her up and saved her from persistent reporters even though it caused him to be late for work. He stayed up with her while she readied herself for the summonses and carried her to bed when she no longer could keep her eyes open. He made her laugh whenever he could with his silly shenanigans.

A tap on her furrowed eyebrows. A poke on her cheeks. A nudge on her arm. A pat on the top of her head. When she was lucky he sometimes even offered her a shoulder massage. Obi’s touches reminded her to relax, and that overthinking stuff would not do her any favour. It won’t be a full victory if you look like Yubaba afterwards, he once said, though I’m sure you’ll be a cute granny someday, he added. Not only did Obi believe in her when she couldn’t believe in herself – he also saved her from premature ageing.

Shirayuki chuckled despite herself. I’m so glad Obi’s my flatmate.

She sighed happily as she approached her building. She wanted to tell Obi the good news right away, but unfortunately, that had to wait until he was back from his late shift. She was looking forward to getting away from the cold, though. The first thing she would do was to soak in a nice, relaxing hot bath. Maybe even use that yuzu bath salt Obi brought her from his last trip to Japan. A treat to herself after winning the battle. Well, technically, Dr. Gazelt won the battle, but hey, Shirayuki had her share of fights.

Closing the door behind her, Shirayuki exhaled with relief. The flat was pleasantly warm, welcoming her home, thanks to the smart app that automatically times and regulates the temperature – one of Obi’s gimmick. Another reason to be thankful to her flatmate.

When her nose was finally freed from her metres-long scarf, Shirayuki caught a waft of something delicious in the air. Something very much like Obi’s black pepper tofu. A smile rose on her lips as she felt her heart swell, all of a sudden brimming with affection towards her thoughtful flatmate. 

Aww, Obi made dinner before he left.

Shirayuki started to fumble with the buttons of her coat. Despite the thick gloves she had on that day her fingers were cold and stiff. Not only her fingers, but her whole body was stiff. She must have been unconsciously tensing all her muscles from the cold.

Bath first, then dinner.

After shrugging everything off, Shirayuki went into the living area and was about to turn on the lights there when she heard something.

Something that sounded like a groan.

Shirayuki stopped dead in her tracks, perked up her ears and listened closely. What on earth was that? Was there someone inside the flat? Heart in throat and eyes wide open, she scanned the room for signs of movements in the darkness but didn’t find anything out of place. 

Then she noticed a stripe of faint light coming out from under Obi’s door. Shirayuki sighed and let all tension drain away from her body. Shaking her head in disbelief, she relaxed her stance and placed a hand on her chest. 

Of course, it’s just Obi.

She felt silly for freaking out so easily. But then again, what was Obi doing, being at home? Was his shift cancelled? Whatever the reason was, Shirayuki would make sure he gets an appropriate scolding. What was he thinking, scaring her like that? He usually texted her when his schedule changed.

Just as she started walking towards Obi’s room to give him his well-deserved scolding, she heard it again. 

It was definitely a groan.

This time, something clicked in Shirayuki’s brain. Could it be that her flatmate was...enjoying some alone time in there? Shirayuki felt her face flushed. W-well, it’s not that she minded or anything – Obi was a man, just like Shirayuki was a woman, and-and it’s perfectly natural for a man – and a woman! – to have...biological needs in...different forms, such as...this one. 

And so, although it was never her wish to catch her flatmate jerking himself off, Shirayuki had to accept the inevitable that it already happened. The only thing she could do now was to simply pretend she didn’t hear anything, slip quietly into her room and–

Another faint sound broke her train of thoughts. Without her permission, her feet went ahead and brought her straight to Obi’s door, tip-toeing lightly, silent on the parquet floor like a burglar in her own house.

“Aaahh...”

From directly in front of the door, the moaning and groaning were louder, clearer and they went straight down to that warm place between her legs. Shirayuki held her breath and gripped the hem of her pullover to ground herself. Obi sounded so wrecked, his heavy panting now also audible from the proximity.

Shirayuki’s brain was working in parallel. One part was frantically telling her to stop eavesdropping and leave her flatmate be in his solitary pleasure. The other part was busy sending her images of how that said flatmate might look like right now. And the noises he was making were rather fuelling the latter.

Was he lying on the futon or sitting on a chair? Was there any piece of clothing still on him or was he only wearing his birthday suit? Was his head thrown back? Eyes closed? Eyebrows beautifully scrunched? Lush lips parted? 

Shirayuki was about to step closer and lean on the door before she caught herself.

Don’t be ridiculous, Shirayuki! Stop this nonsense! Go to your room!

Cheeks burning, Shirayuki pulled herself reluctantly away from the door. She was starting to turn towards her own room when the next thing she heard sent chills down her spine.

“Aahh! Aki! A-Aki! Slow down!”

Then a deeper, familiar voice came through the door. “This is as slow as I could go.”

“Fuuuck!” Obi’s voice was breaking, like on the edge of pain.

“Just breathe, love. Breathe...” came the soothing reply, followed by a long, breathy moan from Obi.

Shirayuki stood frozen between their rooms. The hot arousal she felt just seconds ago was gone in a heartbeat. In its place, a twinge in her heart, followed by a pulsating, dull pain. Shirayuki raised a hand to her chest and rubbed on it, first softly, then more aggressively, as the pain did not go away. Strange, did she just get a heart attack? Should she call 112?

Still rubbing her chest, Shirayuki slowly retreated to the living area, then further back to the corridor. There she put on her coat and her muffler. Then she grabbed her keys and her purse and quietly slipped out of the flat. She put on her boots, went downstairs and walked outside.

----

Just how long she had been walking aimlessly, Shirayuki didn’t know. What part of town did she end up in anyway? In front of her was a park she didn’t recognise. There was hardly anyone but herself. Looking around absentmindedly, she saw only one brave jogger and a couple of dog owners. The chilly wind had died down but now there was a layer of thin mist in the air. 

How did she even get here? Everything that happened after she heard Aki's voice was a blur. The only thing certain was the constant throbbing in her chest, on which her gloved hand was still rubbing, sometimes lightly pounding. 

Why wouldn’t that nagging pain go away? Should she really go have it checked out? Maybe it was really a heart attack? And why was it so damn cold? Her face felt numb and though Shirayuki didn’t feel like it she knew she needed to go somewhere inside, soon.

She didn’t want to go back to her flat, though. She couldn’t. No matter how alluring the hot bath was, and not to mention the savoury black pepper tofu that–

Oh. Shirayuki bit on her lip. Her eyes suddenly stung with unshed tears.

I guess he made it for Aki.

Inhaling a shaky breath, she made up her mind. She patted her coat pocket and reached for her phone.

“Hello, Yuzuri?”

[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.”

[kirayaykimura]

It was an unremarkable Tuesday afternoon. Spring had still not sprung in Lilias, so Yuzuri had dragged Shirayuki into a tavern beyond the walls to complain about her terrible date the night before. And also to get some lunch.  

“All I’m saying,” Yuzuri said as she claimed a table near the back of the tavern they’d ducked into, “is that I would like to be attracted to someone I actually like. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.” 

“It’s not,” Shirayuki agreed easily. She didn’t really understand how Yuzuri could be attracted to someone she didn’t like on a personal level, but clearly it was possible and Shirayuki didn’t want to invalidate that. 

Apparently Yuzuri had been on a date with the “hottest man anyone has ever seen,” but answered every question with a long, extended, “Uh,” and then ended the night by asking if she wanted to bring him back to her place because he was technically homeless at the moment. (“Obviously I said yes,” Yuzuri had explained. “I mean, he was indescribably attractive. But I would like my mind stimulated as well, you know?” Again, Shirayuki did not know, but she nodded all the same.)

“It’s like my body rebels against me,” Yuzuri said. “I could be talking to the dullest man alive, but somehow my vagina will perk up and say, ‘Hi. Hello. I would like to meet you.’” 

“Maybe you should train your vagina to stop jumping on people.” 

“Like, take Suzu for instance,” Yuzuri continued, in full rant mode. “Sure, I could fuck him, but can I have an actual conversation with the man that doesn’t end with one of us wanting to tear our own hair out? Absolutely not.” 

“Thanks.” 

It wasn’t Shirayuki who had spoken, but a man behind her. She turned to find Suzu leveling them both with an unimpressed stare. It made sense that she’d missed him: his back was to their table and the restaurant was dimly lit on top of them being slightly snow-blind from their walk over, but she still felt bad. Even if Yuzuri hadn’t been talking about him, she hadn’t said hello. It was impolite. 

Apparently she was the only one who felt bad, though. Sounding completely unashamed, Yuzuri said, “Oh. Suzu. When did you get here?” 

Judging from the papers spread all over the table in front of him, he’d been there the entire time. Suzu simply gave Yuzuri a long, quiet look, then turned back to his papers. 

“Anyway,” Yuzuri said, “my dating life sucks. How’s yours going? Let me live vicariously through you and your disgustingly perfect royal romance.” 

Right. She’d forgotten to tell Yuzuri. Oops. 

See, Shirayuki had meant to tell her basically the second it had happened. She and Zen had sat down for dinner in a nice inn down the road, eaten a bittersweet last meal as a couple before mutually agreeing that things weren’t really working out, and then she’d walked back to find Yuzuri and tell her everything, both because Yuzuri loved a bit of good romantic gossip and because Shirayuki didn’t really feel much of anything and she wanted to see if that was normal. But then she’d run into Obi first and was waylaid trying to console him about her break-up and it was all very distracting. 

“Oh no,” Yuzuri said, obviously semi-correctly reading Shirayuki’s face. “What happened?” 

“We broke up,” Shirayuki admitted. 

“Are you okay? Do you need to cry? Do you want me to kick his ass? I mean, I know he’s technically my prince but I’ll do it.” 

“No, no.” Shirayuki waved a hand to get her to stop. “I’m totally fine. It was all very amicable. It just…didn’t work out.��� 

Yuzuri eyed her. “You do seem fine. Why aren’t you a mess?” 

Shirayuki shrugged. She had no idea how break-ups were supposed to go since this was her first. Maybe this was just how she reacted to them. 

“So are you stuck here?” Yuzuri asked, leaning her chin on a wrist. “Are you considered an enemy of Clariness?” 

“No!” Shirayuki said on a laugh. “We’re still friends. I think we both realized that we’d spent so long apart we didn’t know how to be together anymore.” 

“You’re so well-adjusted it makes me sick,” Yuzuri groaned. 

“Sorry.” 

“See, that would be nice, to stay friends after a break-up. But I can’t bone down on my friends so there’s no friendship to save in the aftermath. I mean, we already covered Suzu.” 

“I thought my problem was that I was hot but insufferable,” Suzu drawled. 

“Why are you eavesdropping?” Yuzuri asked. She rolled her eyes at Shirayuki. “See? Insufferable.” 

“Sure,” Shirayuki said, “but maybe it’s different with sex involved?” 

There was a pause, then Yuzuri asked, “You never slept with Zen?” over the scraping of chair legs behind her as Suzu turned to their table. 

“I’m not going to pretend I’m not listening in,” Suzu said. “You dated this man for how long?” 

“Four,” Shirayuki said slowly, “years?” 

The deeply judgmental silence that statement was met with pushed her to say, “Not every relationship needs sex! We were perfectly happy to take things slow. It was nice. But then one day he showed up for a surprise visit and I couldn’t remember that last time I even thought about him, let alone wished he was there, and also I was kind of annoyed I had to stop what I was doing to go out to lunch with him which is probably not what you should think about your boyfriend and then he wasn’t anymore. My boyfriend, I mean.”

Yuzuri blinked. “Wait, so does that mean you’re still-”

“I’m not answering that.” 

Suzu whistled. 

“Anyway,” Shirayuki said, “maybe that’s why we’re fine. Maybe you only get one or the other; physical or psychological attraction.” 

“Or maybe one comes before the other,” Suzu said. “With your prince, the physical attraction never came so your relationship petered out. But maybe you’re out with a friend one day and they do something unexpected that catches your eye. For instance, they tuck their hair behind their ear but a little of it misses and sits just in front of their ear and you think, ‘I want to tuck that hair back properly,’ and then you’re left thinking about how it would feel to have your fingers in her hair, close enough to-” Suzu cut himself off abruptly. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, maybe this sort of thing takes time is all I’m saying.” 

Amused, Shirayuki said, “If all it took was being friends with someone and noticing things about them, I’d be dating Obi.” 

Yuzuri and Suzu stared silently at her for the few seconds it took to process what she’d just said. 

“No,” Shirayuki said. “That’s not how this works.” She liked Zen. Liked Zen, she reminded herself. Past tense. And look where that got them: her heading down one path while he headed down another in a completely different direction. When she thought about her future and what she wanted to accomplish in her life, Zen wasn’t the end goal anymore. Neither was Obi, for that matter, but that didn’t mean Obi wasn’t there every step of the way, in every scenario her mind could conjure up. He was there. He’d always been there. She couldn’t imagine her life without him in it, and she hadn’t been able to for a very long time. 

“I think I should marry Obi,” Shirayuki said after a lengthy pause. 

“Hot damn!” Yuzuri said, smacking the table lightly with her palm. “That was a hell of a leap, but I’m into it. Go get your man.” 

“This is a bad idea probably,” Shirayuki said, already standing.

“Only if you don’t mean it,” Suzu told her. His sarcastic edges softened just slightly when he smiled up at her. “Good luck.” 

Shirayuki nodded numbly, then took off for…Obi’s post? She’d never really had to go looking for him before. Mostly, he found her. However, on the rare occasion she did go looking for him, she always had to ask multiple people where he’d gotten off to because he was never where the last person had seen him last. It might be a good thing in this case, though. It would give her time to come up with a good argument for marrying her (which so far consisted of, ‘I don’t want to go through life without you and I just realized one (1) minute ago that I think maybe I think you’re pretty and maybe if we give it some time you could think I’m pretty in the same way?’ As arguments went, it could use some work). 

The moment she stepped through the gates and flashed her I-belong-here badge, she asked the attendant, “Have you seen Obi around?” 

“Sorry, ma’am,” the boy said with a slight bow, “I have not.” 

Another knight passing by slowed and asked, “You’re looking for Obi?” 

“Yes, have you seen him?” 

“Not in person, but I hear he’s on a hot date.” The knight winked. “You might have to fight her for him.” 

She stood, rooted in her spot, while the knight strolled on as if he hadn’t just upended her entire worldview. As far as she knew, Obi was single. Was he dating someone she didn’t know about?

No, he would have told her. This had to be a first date. Like that time he was set up with that guy’s little sister. He wasn’t interested; this was just a favor to a friend. She forced her feet to move, one in front of the other, and pick up her pace. It wasn’t a real date, but if it was a real date, she should get in there sooner rather than later and stop things before they got too far. He deserved to be happy, absolutely, but she could make him happy too. They always had so much fun together. 

She asked another knight where Obi was and followed his directions into an unfamiliar wing with a lot of closed doors. Thankfully she wasn’t forced to knock on them at random until Obi answered because she rounded a corner and found him leaning against a doorway about halfway down the hallway. His back was to her, but she’d know that back anywhere. The toned lines of his body. The easy sprawl that hid his frankly alarming reflexes. The short hair that somehow always managed to be just slightly messy, as if, like the rest of him, it refused to be completely tamed.

She followed his gaze out to a woman at the end of the hall, too far away and gone around the corner too soon to make out more than lanky and brunette. 

Obi turned away once she disappeared, and his fond smile morphed into something more surprised and pleased when his eyes caught on Shirayuki. 

“Miss!” Obi said. “What are you doing in this neck of the woods?” 

There were a lot of things Shirayuki should start with, but instead she blurted out, “Don’t marry her.” 

“Okay,” Obi said easily. Then, “Who?” 

“The woman you were just with.” 

Obi cocked his head to the side and said, “What?” 

“The woman just now. Don’t marry her. Because-“ she took a deep breath, “you should marry me.” 

“What?” Obi yelped. 

“I know. I know you’ve never thought about it before-”

“Whoa whoa whoa. Hold on just a-“

“-I just realized it ten minutes ago, but think about it. Nothing has to change. We can stay exactly the way we are now. I just-” she paused to collect her thoughts. She really should have thought of a better argument on the way here. “-I don’t want to go through the rest of my life without you in it.”  

“Okay, I have no idea what’s happening here,” Obi said with a slight shake of his head, “but you never have to.” The smile he gave her was soft and small and made her feel like she was standing in the mid-summer sun in the middle of winter. “You don’t have to marry me to keep my by your side, Miss. I’m there no matter what.” 

“But it’s different with you than it is with Zen, or Yuzuri, or Ryuu. You don’t feel the same to me as they do. That means something, right?” 

Obi looked stunned, and for the first time she started to doubt herself. Maybe he’d only ever seen her as his friend and here she was pushing these other ideas on him. 

“I didn’t think any of this through on the way here,” Shirayuki admitted. 

“That sounds about right for you,” Obi said, amused. “Always jumping in before that big brain of yours can catch up.” 

“Right,” she said, wishing that big brain he swore she had would come back online and tell her how to immediately abort mission and save at least a little bit of her dignity. “So let’s just forget this ever happened.” 

“Do you want to see her?” Obi asked before Shirayuki could take more than half a step back. “The girl I was just with?” 

Not even a little bit. What the hell? 

“Come on.” He took her hand, and she pathetically found herself committing the feeling of it to memory. They rarely touched and she was sure it was going to happen even less now that she’d botched…whatever the hell she’d just tried to do, so she wanted to remember the exact placement of his callouses, exactly how much bigger his palm was than hers. He led her down the hall, then another before stopping just outside a small mess hall, where he pointed to a knight - Shaumaker, she thought, maybe - and a, well, girl on the far side of the room. She could only see their profiles, but-

“She looks young,” Shirayuki said before she could think better of it. 

“She is,” Obi said, clearly trying not to laugh. “She’s twelve.” 

Shirayuki turned to him with wide eyes. She hadn’t thought he was the type to-

“I was babysitting!” Obi clarified quickly. 

“Oh.” 

“Well, we called it hanging out. She’s getting to the age where she doesn’t want a babysitter, but her brother still didn’t want her running around a place with inattentive scientists and large men with dangerous weapons unsupervised.” 

“That seems wise.” 

“Yeah.” 

They stood quiet for a moment, watching as the girl and probably-Shaumaker chatted merrily. 

“So,” he said, casually leaning back against the wall and pulling her in until she stood toe-to-toe with him, “you wanna marry me?” 

She looked down at their hands - still entwined. That was a good sign, right? He’d said no before, but at least he wasn’t repulsed by her. They could get past this. 

“Sorry,” she said. She willed her hand to let go of his, but her hand wouldn’t cooperate with her brain. If this was all she got, she was going to savor it. 

“What brought this all on anyway?”  

“Yuzuri.” 

“That explains it.” 

When she gave him the quick run-down of what had occurred at the tavern, she’d expected him to laugh at her and the whole ridiculous situation, just like he’d been doing since she showed up in front of him. Instead, the thumb he’d been casually sweeping along the base of her own thumb stilled and his ever-present smile disappeared into something serious. Before she had time to be truly worried, he asked, “What do you notice about me?” 

His eyes were almost all pupil as they held on hers, and she felt a pleasant shiver run through her body. She had no idea it could feel this good to be wanted by a man. Usually when someone looked at her with such blatant desire, it made her want to run as far and as fast as she could. This still made her heart speed up, but, instead of running, she found she wanted to plant her feet on either side of his and lean in closer. 

“You’re attracted to me,” Shirayuki said before she could think better of it. 

Obi nodded once. 

Wait. Pushing through the chemicals currently making soup in her brain, she asked, “If you’re attracted to me, what’s the problem here?” 

That broke the spell. Obi laughed, and Shirayuki shook off the pull she felt towards him. She took a step back, finally releasing his hand. As long as he let her see him laugh - completely uninhibited, no walls up - she thought she could be just fine with however the rest of this conversation played out. 

Obi settled into his normal, fond expression as he said, “I didn’t want you to think you needed to do anything in order to keep me around.” 

“I didn’t think that.” Shirayuki paused. “Well, until I heard you were on a hot date from one of the guards outside.” At Obi’s raised eyebrows, Shirayuki said, “I now realize that was a joke.” 

Obi huffed out a laugh. 

“I was serious, you know,” Shirayuki said. Some of that earlier nervousness made itself known again, but it kept to a low, manageable simmer. She trusted Obi to handle her heart carefully. “I think I realized something today that I should have realized a long time ago. You’re my best friend, Obi. You’re my favorite person. This is more than enough for me.” She paused, watching him for understanding. When he nodded, she continued, “I know I sprung all of this on you, but if there’s a chance you might be open to more in the future, I would like to try, too.” 

Now that it was all said and done, she felt a blush steal across her face and…yep, there it was. The old urge to run away. 

“Okay,” she squeaked, “that’s it. I’m going to go now and let you think about it.” 

Obi snagged her wrist before she could move and hauled her into his chest. 

“Wha-” was all she got out before Obi said, “What if I told you I’m open to more right now.” 

She leaned back just far enough to look up at him and say, “I don’t want to pressure you or anything.” 

Obi laughed again, but quieter this time. She felt it more than she heard it, which was kind of a strange feeling that she wanted to experience again and again for the rest of her life. He raised the hand not gripping her wrist to cup her cheek and told her, “No pressure, and without being pressured, I am going to kiss you now.” 

“Okay.” Shirayuki nodded slightly. “Yeah, that-“

Obi’s lips cut off her nonsense ramblings, but that was honestly for the best. This was a better use of their time. Instead of overthinking everything, she let her mind go pleasantly blank aside from oh. She must have unconsciously mouthed the word too because suddenly Obi’s tongue was sweeping in through her parted lips and that should have been weird, but instead it made her shiver pleasantly again. It got even better when she tentatively flicked her own tongue out heard Obi lightly groan. 

He pulled back some time later. She hadn’t even realized she was leaning forward to not break the kiss until she felt him smile against her lips. She felt him rest his forehead against hers. 

“What made you think I’ve never thought about it before?” he asked. 

He expected her to think after that? To process words? 

Obi chuckled and pulled back just far enough that their faces weren’t touching anymore and waited, looking like he knew exactly how frustrated she was that she had to use her lips for something other than what she really wanted to be doing at the moment. 

“What do you mean?” Shirayuki asked. 

“Well, you keep implying you think I’ve never thought about marrying you before.” 

“Wait, have you?” 

Obi titled his head and made an enigmatic noise. 

“You have?” She planted her palms on his chest and leaned back. “How long?” 

Obi hummed. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll tell you in my vows.”

[realtacuardach]

Breath of Life (Obiyuki Kissathon)

This is my first entry for the Obiyuki Kissathon, hosted by snowwhite-andtheknight! The prompt was a “from death” kiss. Thanks to the Obiyuki discord, especially jhalya and sabraeal for their help! Enjoy!

***

"Incredible," Zen marvelled, his breath clouding in front of him as he leaned back in the stirrups and gave Shirayuki an admiring look. "To fuse seed and stone until the plant is no longer poisonous, but a beacon!"

Shirayuki shook her hair out of her eyes, feeling the brush of her ornament's tassels against her flushed cheeks. "Well, I can be stubborn as stone myself, I wasn't about to give up and let everyone down. And I had lots of help - Suzu and Yuzuri and Ryuu and Obi…"

Her voice trailed off a little in thought, and Zen smirked before nudging his horse's flank against hers. "I'm losing you, Shirayuki."

She straightened up, her flush bright enough to stand out against the redness brought by the harsh winds. "I'm here, I'm here!" She shot him a playful glare. "And I'm hardly yours to lose anymore. How is Kihal?"

Zen flushed in a gratifying way. "Kihal's fine - although she was sad to miss the chance to visit you. But she couldn't leave the messenger bird trainings."

"I thought that was you, your highness," Kiki wryly commented from atop her steed, "you certainly have spent a lot of time looking out at the training sessions." Her eyebrows raised and the corner of her lips lifted as Mitsuhide appeared to oscillate between amusement and scandal.

Scandal was appearing to win out, and Mitsuhide was opening his mouth to interject when a snowball hurtled out of the trees and struck him squarely in the shoulder. Only his experience in horsemanship kept him upright, and he leveled a righteous glare into the surrounding forest. "Obi!"

The only response was another snowball, this one hitting him in the center of his forehead. As Mitsuhide sputtered and started scrubbing out the snow embedded in his hair, Kiki reached for her sword, placing her scabbard in front of her face protectively as her eyes skimmed the woods. Obi apparently valued his life more than the chance to surprise attack her, as his next snowball whizzed nearly past Zen's ear, painting the tree trunk near him in a splatter of white.

"Obi!" Zen called, his attempt at sounding stern undermined by the undercurrent of laughter in his voice. "Get down here!"

Obi smoothly descended from the trees, landing in a crouched bow in front of them, and looked up at his master with a toothy grin stretching from ear to ear.

Zen shook his head wryly, grinning back at the sight of his immediate knight and friend. "Is that the best way to greet your fellow knights?"

If anything, Obi's grin broadened. "Keeps me in practice, Master. And keeps Mitsuhide on his toes!"

Zen laughed, the sudden tension draining from his shoulders as he relaxed into the saddle; beside him, Shirayuki let out a quiet sigh of relief. It was a blessedly nostalgic feeling to see Obi teasing his master - it was an occurrence that hadn't been seen for the past few months. Obi had taken the dissolution of the romance between second prince and herbalist even harder than the two themselves, for some reason that he had never told her. Although he had treated Shirayuki much the same as ever, albeit with a delicacy for the first few weeks that was better suited to handling fragile seedlings, Zen had experienced what it was like to deal with an Obi who was all business. He had done his job and done it well when his services had been required, but that was the only time he would interact with Zen. Gone was the teasing and quips; the immediate knight's words were short, clipped, and to the point, and then he would vanish with a brisk nod until summoned again.

Zen had tried to be understanding, but his dismay and uneasiness about the situation could easily be read between the lines of any correspondence between him and Shirayuki. In a way, she knew that Obi was just being protective and she appreciated the steadfastness of her friend; however, she wished he could understand that she herself felt that it was for the best. Zen would always be her first love, but the two had grown, both together and apart, to find that their friendship felt more right than pursuing a romance which had cooled and dissolved with the passage of time.

At last, she could see her friends all interact without a blade of sorrow stabbing her in the stomach. And, with Zen, Mitsuhide, and Kiki so far away most of the year, their times together were rarer and even more precious to her than before. She would stomach the sorrow if it meant seeing it, but it was a relief to have it gone.

Obi fell into step beside their horses in his usual controlled lope, the leather of his uniform creaking in time with the horses' hoofbeats in a way that was familiar and comforting.

"Where's your horse, Obi?" Mitsuhide asked.

"Back in the stables."

Zen's attendant clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You really should have it with you on patrol," he said, "it helps when you need to get quickly about the perimeter."

Midori, a new guard just out of Obi's training sessions that had been riding a few lengths behind the others, almost fell off his horse in his eagerness to come forward. "Sir Obi, you can use mi-"

Obi held up a hand and shook his head with a smile. "Not necessary, Midori." He looked up at Mitsuhide. "And when you know how to ride a horse on fortress walls, I'm all ears. Otherwise, it's quicker for me to - "

His words cut off suddenly, and his head suddenly moved to the side with the sharpness of a hawk scouting out its prey. His muscles grew languid as he looked around, before coiling like a panther about to pounce.

Zen frowned, looking around himself. "Obi, what is - "

The next few seconds were a blur. Without preamble, Obi leapt into the air, a flash of black leather and tanned skin as he passed before his master and mistress and towards the trees. The telltale twang of an arrow being loosed plucked the air and Obi's hand closed in a fist as he landed in the snow. "Archer!" He growled as he took off towards the trees, feet barely touching the ground as Mitsuhide and Kiki swiftly dismounted and followed afterwards, with the new guard enthusiastically if belatedly trailing behind them.

Zen, never one to sit back and let others fight his battles for him, swung down and hooked his horse's reins on a nearby tree branch. "Stay here," he cautioned the herbalist before disappearing into the woods.

And Shirayuki, never one for following orders when she felt she could be more of use disregarding them, slid off her mount and checked to make sure her ever present satchel was secured to her waist. She gave the horse a reassuring pat on the nose before making her own way towards the others.

She found them at a tall tree, Zen and his attendants surrounding the trunk and glaring up like hunting dogs who had treed their quarry. The quarry in question was a young man who already looked somewhat worse for wear, his clothing disheveled, a swelling already forming at the corner of his jaw, and his quiver dangling from his shoulder by a torn leather strap. He looked like he was about to faint; the only thing keeping him upright was Obi's tight grip on his shoulder as the knight leaned against the trunk, his other hand clamped on his own upper arm.

Obi crooked his head in question to his comrades down below, who responded with a decisive nod. He coughed before saying with a levity that didn't match the steel in his eyes, "Looks like there's only room up here for one of us. And you're not supposed to be here, anyway, so…out you get."

And then he let the archer go.

It was only a few feet to fall, and the snow was lightly packed so it was cushion enough, but the archer still had the breath knocked out of him as he attempted to stand before Mitsuhide's imposing stance encouraged him to stay still.

"Who are you?" Zen asked the man who had begun to manage a defiant grimace.

"Just a simple archer," he spat, "what is the meaning of this?"

"Why were you shooting at us?" Zen persisted.

The man shrugged. "I guess my hand slipped. I certainly wasn't trying to shoot anyone here, your highness."

Mitsuhide stepped forward. "You don't seem to have anything to keep your catch in, no bag or cords."

A tinge of nervousness appeared in the archer's eyes before he blinked it away. "I'm something of a novice, this is the first time I've gone out hunting."

A tongue clicked up in the tree branches, and they looked up to see Obi shaking his head mockingly down at the archer. "Don't sell yourself short," he interjected, holding the arrows and quiver in one hand while he examined them closely, "this quiver's got some good wear on it, and these arrows certainly look like they were made by someone with experience…" He took the hand from his upper arm, and the dark smears of blood on his palm made Shirayuki's heart stutter. Smoothly, he took the arrows in both hands before snapping them in half. "Oops."

The archer groaned as Obi dropped the quiver and splintered arrows in the snow.

"Couldn't have done that riding a horse," he mused casually, which was met with a snort from Mitsuhide.

Obi then swung himself down onto the ground, his boots landing right in front of the group, sending snow into the stranger's face. The archer flinched back while Shirayuki flinched forward at the sight on the dark stain growing on his armor, spreading from where the arrow had pierced him.

"Obi!" she gasped, stepping forward as her hands reached for her satchel.

He wrenched the arrow out and looked at it with distaste. "I'm fine, Miss," he assured her, "just losing my touch. I used to be able to catch those." He held up his hand so the others could see the line scored through the palm of his glove from the arrow's flight, a red line already beginning to well up. "It barely hit me, but still. I'm getting fat and lazy, how am I going to get the guards to listen to me now?"

Given that the one guard present looked about ready to faint in awe, Shirayuki didn't feel he had much to worry about in that regard.

"We should go," Kiki said, "he may not have been working alone, and we have more resources to persuade him up at the fortress." Her face gave nothing away, and the archer's face paled. Mitsuhide wrenched him to his feet and secured his wrists behind him. Obi gently shook off Shirayuki's attempts to examine or dress the wounds.

"They'll keep until we get inside," he grinned good-naturedly, "and then you can unleash little Ryuu and all the other herbalists on me."

Shirayuki gave in reluctantly, if only to speed up the process so they could return to the pharmacy for proper assessment and treatment. Obi walked behind the rest, keeping watch for any other movements that would give the presence of potential accomplices away. She turned back a few times to check on him, but only got a cheeky wave and grin in response. So she swallowed the persistent feeling that something was wrong and focused on the return trip, letting the familiar cadence of his footsteps calm her frazzled nerves.

Her mind froze for a moment before thoughts began to hurtle past at dizzying speed. She shouldn't be able to hear them here.

In the fortress, in town, in the castle back at Wilant,  the steady clip of his boots striking the floor was a familiar sound that at times provided her with a great deal of comfort. But she wasn't used to hearing it outside, where he could perch on stone walls, jump from branch to branch, or track through grass or leaves or snow with the silence of a shadow.  She shouldn't have been able to hear him.

She felt a bolt of unease, which only intensified as the brisk, efficient pace began to sound much slower and heavier. She couldn’t keep herself from turning as his steps began to loudly crunch behind her, and the bolt became a stabbing fear.

The increasingly loud and belligerent complaints of the archer had drowned out the sounds of Obi’s breathing, but with her eyes focusing on him with clinical scrutiny, she tuned out all other sounds. Shirayuki winced at the pinched look his eyes had taken as his mouth gaped almost laughingly wide, the air whistling in and out of his mouth in shuddering gasps. She gripped her reins hard and pulled her steed into a stop, just like he’d taught her. “Obi?”

Obi raised up a hand to reassure her. “Don’t worry, Miss, I’m - “

And then he dropped into the snow, his limbs splayed out like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“Obi!” She screamed, and the others turned in shock as she nearly fell off the horse trying to get down.

“Sir!” Midori cried equally loudly, rushing over to Shirayuki’s side just in time to help her turn Obi over, to expose his mouth and nose to the air.

“We need help,” Shirayuki said, pulling her satchel in front of her, “Midori, go to the pharmacy and bring back a stretcher.”

She was never more grateful for their respective trainings, in hers for her ability to give clear directions despite emotional duress, and in his for his ability to swiftly follow them.

Snow kicked up from the horse’s hooves as Midori rushed the remainder of the way to the university. The others rushed over, paying no heed to the whining of their prisoner as he was dragged along.

Zen took in the figure of his fallen friend, a gleam of fear in his eyes before it reforged into steel. He glared daggers at the man now being forced to the ground at his feet. “What was on the arrow?”

The archer narrowed his eyes in response. “I don’t know what you - “

Zen’s sword sang as he pulled it from his scabbard, and the grips of his retainers on the enemy’s shoulders tightened until their knuckles were white. “Spare us your lies - what have you done to my knight?”

The archer looked around, and was met with fire in Mitsuhide’s eyes and stone in Kiki’s. He swallowed and slumped. “You might as well say your goodbyes.”

“What?”

“The arrows were poisoned at the tip, and I wasn’t given any antidote.” He looked up at Zen with malice. “We weren’t planning on taking prisoners.”

Zen lunged forward with a growl and Mitsuhide blocked him, giving his liege a look and shaking his head. The prince relaxed, somewhat unwillingly, and took a deep breath.

“Luckily for you,” the archer felt the sting of steel against his throat and looked up at Kiki`s unyielding stance and blade, “we do. Although how lucky you are remains to be seen.” Mitsuhide joined her and placed his blade at the other side of the man’s neck.

Zen stood in front and glared down. “What. Poison. Did you use?”

Shirayuki had been listening to all that was going on behind her, as she checked on Obi’s state. Her fingers felt for his pulse (slowing considerably and distressingly thready) and hovered over his mouth to feel the breeze of his breaths. She didn’t let her hand tremble as she pulled the leather away from the arrow wound in his arm and the score on his palm. No infection that she could see…

“Poison,” she whispered as she scrambled around for a moment, trying to find the quiver where Obi had dropped it when he fell. She pulled out a broken arrow, the blasted arrowhead blessedly intact, and examined it carefully. The poison came off on her gloves and she sniffed tentatively. “No smell…”

“I don’t know,” the archer spat, “something to do with frogs.”

“Frogs,” Shirayuki repeated to herself, and shut her eyes and tried to remember if she had seen anything like that in her books. Her heart froze as her mind focused on a page that she remembered Yuzuri showing her. “Curare.”

She could hear the rush of people from the university as Obi sagged into the snow completely.

…

The rush back to the clinic and the pharmacy was a blur for Shirayuki. Between the other herbalists and the onslaught of guards, Obi was quickly swept onto a stretcher and borne to the warmth of the clinic.

Yuzuri ran out to meet them and began jogging besides Shirayuki. “What happened?”

Shirayuki panted beside her. “He’s been shot. With curare. I need the catspaw you brought back from your last trip.” She came to the split in the halls where she had to go one way for the greenhouses and other for the clinic, and dithered a moment. She didn’t want to leave him, but -

Yuzuri shoved her towards the clinic. “Go,” she barked, fear making her voice brisk, “I’ll get the catspaw. You get to your man.”

Despite the urgency of the situation, Shirayuki stumbled, her cheeks burning hot. He's not my -

But Yuzuri was already gone, and out of the corner of her eye she could see the stretcher making its way towards the clinic. She broke into a run and nearly crashed into the clinic doorway. Ryuu looked up where he was setting up bowls and pestles on the nearest table, a cluster of trainees hovering nearby.

“I heard what he was poisoned with,” he said plainly, “and I thought I had better be ready. You can observe,” he continued flatly as he looked towards the trainees, “when we’re finished. This will be a delicate procedure.”

The trainees filed out quickly, and Shirayuki looked at the master herbalist and felt her heart sink at the stress building up between his eyes. She walked over and squeezed his arm. “We can do this. Obi is strong, and we know how to help him.” Ryuu let the corner of his mouth tilt upwards before it sank back into a pensive frown. Somehow the comfort didn’t feel complete without Obi following it with an arm slung around their shoulders.

“Here’s Sir Obi!” Midori yelled as he ran into the room ahead of the other guards carrying the stretcher.

“And I have the catspaw!” Yuzuri shouted as she ran after them, her fist lifted in triumph.

Shirayuki clapped her hands together once. “Let’s get to it.”

As the pounding of pestles started behind her, she took it upon herself to peel away his glove and torn sleeve for easier access to the wounds. A sick feeling pooled in the pit of her stomach as her hands ran over the muscles of his arm that were now relaxed to the point of near stillness. He shouldn’t look like this.

She swallowed hard and began cleaning the skin around the wounds, keeping an ear on the progress of the catspaw poultices. The sleeve kept rolling back over the arm wound and, in a fit of frustration, she ripped the cloth back to the point where pieces came off in her hand.

Oh, she admonished herself weakly, he really likes this shirt.

If you wanted my clothes off so badly, Miss, she could almost hear him saying, all you had to do was ask.

Shirayuki continued to clean the skin, willing herself not to be undone by how badly she wanted him to be awake and saying that to her. A mortar was stuck in front of her and she blinked up at Ryuu.

“We ground the catspaw,” he said, “does it look ready?”

He would know as well as she that it was, but she appreciated what he was doing. She nodded and smeared a liberal does on a bandage before plastering it on his arm, Ryuu moving in sync to wrap the arrow score for safe measure.

“And now we wait?” Shirayuki asked, one hand gripping Obi’s wrist to check his pulse while the other brushed the hair dripping with snowmelt out of his face.

Ryuu pulled up a chair and stared intently at their wounded knight. “Yeah.”

Time passed painfully slowly, although it should really have been just a few moments, as the two kept vigil. Shirayuki kept the twin heartbeats of hers and Obi’s pulsing at the back of her mind, as she wondered what the others had gotten out of the archer. Were they safe? Did they need to grind more catspaw in case of another attack? Where were they? Why wasn’t Obi waking up?

His pulse pushed more and more slowly against her thumb, and she counted under her breath the moments between them. It kept her mind steady and focused when all she could do was monitor the situation and wait. She turned to ask Ryuu to check outside the window to see if anything else had happened when she froze. She wasn’t feeling anything.

“Obi?” She held her hand above his mouth. Nothing. She drew her hairpin from behind her ear and held it over his face, watching the tassels for movement. Nothing. Her heart stopped.

His heart wasn't beating.

"Ryuu!" She barked, and the younger herbalist jolted in his chair. "He's not breathing, and I can't find a pulse." She rolled up her sleeves and climbed up on the bed beside him. "I'm going to start compressions, go get help!"

Ryuu ran out of the room so quickly that his chair overturned. Shirayuki could hear his steps and shouts fading away, but turned them out as she fell into the rhythm of compressions.

Sweat dripped down past her ears as she felt the impact of his muscles and sternum reverberating in her shoulders. He was supple and strong, and she hoped she wouldn't crack his bones. If he had to be bedridden because of this, she would never hear the end of it.

Oh, I'm easy to get into bed, Miss.

She leaned down. One breath, two breaths.

This wasn't right. Obi wasn't supposed to be like this. She had felt the muscles of his chest against her several times over the years they'd spent together, whether it was when he caught her if she stumbled, or when she'd leaned against him to avoid the bustle of a hectic, crowded town square. He was warm and strong and always ready to spring into action. Now he was limp and cold and -

She leaned down. One breath, two breaths.

She missed his warmth. The warmth of his corded muscles that made her feel so safe. The warmth of his ready smirks and smiles when she needed to see them most. The warmth in his eyes when he regarded her, especially when he didn't realize she was looking. The warmth that she had only recently realized filled her heart to overflowing when she saw him -

She leaned down, blinking back tears. One breath, two breaths.

"Please," she whispered as she resumed compressions, the tips of her fingers growing icy as the fear stabbed her heart. "Please, Obi…"

He didn't answer. He had never ignored her before, even when he'd felt brave enough and secure enough in their relationship to have disagreements.

She leaned down, her lips trembling against his. One breath, two breaths.

"Please!"

She resumed compressions, although she could barely see now. The trained professional in her knew that she was fatiguing rapidly and was emotionally compromised, and that for Obi's sake, she needed for someone to relieve her soon. But...she could not bear to let go of him.

She stopped a moment to catch her breath. Her arms were quivering and her compressions were becoming irregular, which was not in Obi's best interest. Her hand felt for his pulse, and found nothing.

"Obi," she whispered, longing to curl up into him and to wake up from this nightmare, "please don't leave me."

She shook the tears from her eyes and steeled her shoulders again to resume pounding his chest when she felt something stirring beneath her palms. She leaned back in surprise and looked at his face, his eyes still closed. She grabbed his wrist, paused for a torturous moment - and then nearly fainted with relief at the weak but steady rhythm beneath her fingers.

Shirayuki slumped forward, resting her head on his chest to hear that blessed beat for herself. His chest rose and fell for a few seconds before he began to cough, causing her to bolt upright. “Obi! You’re awake!”

Obi’s eyes opened just enough for her to see the glint of gold, and he smiled weakly. “‘Course. I couldn’t leave you, Miss.”

Relief and joy coursed through her in a rejuvenating rush, leaving her feeling almost as intoxicated as Roka fruit liquor. The relief was so great, that she leaned forward and, against all medical and rational knowledge regarding a patient recovering from respiratory and cardiac arrest -

Kissed him.

Obi let out an involuntary gasp as Shirayuki nearly fell on top of him, but his heart beat strong - if not a little fast - against her palm as she leaned down. The medical veneer having been discarded now that he was safe, she let her senses flood her as she brought her lips down to meet his. His mouth, windburned and slightly chapped at the top by the harsh Lyrias winters, felt warm and right and perfect against hers. He grunted a little as her nose crashed into his but she didn’t care, her heart jumping as her top lip slid between his. She retracted back apologetically. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured, brushing her hand across his face.

Then her sense came back and she yanked herself away, color flaming in her cheeks. “Oh, Obi, I’m so sorry!”

Obi grinned up at her as he gasped for air. “You take...my breath away, Miss.”

Really, if he hadn’t been recovering she would have smacked him. She pulled herself back further, hiding her face in her hands.

“Hey,” his voice gentled as he pushed himself up on one elbow. She was so spellbound by the look in his eyes that she didn’t notice his hand winding its way through the tendrils of her hair at the back of her neck. “It’s okay. Besides,” he grinned cheekily as he brought her head closer, “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Shirayuki’s eyes widened. Then she blushed as she let herself sink down as he pulled her slowly back towards him. Tears sprang to her eyes as the look of naked adoration in his gaze as he craned up to meet her, sealing their lips together. Although she and Zen had kissed many times over their relationship, this was beyond any sensation Shirayuki had ever known. Their hearts beat in unison, and everything was heat and fire and a feeling like coming home.

They separated for air, and she traced her fingers across his cheek, his jaw, the scar over his eye, revelling in the feeling of warmth and life. For his part, he appeared to have run out of energy to do more than lay back and purr under her ministrations like a contented housecat.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” she whispered.

“Never,” he promised, “I’m yours as long as you want me.”

She was about to show that statement the kind of appreciation it deserved, in lieu of the words her heart was too full to speak yet, when the door creaked behind them.

“Is that really,” Suzu asked from the doorway, “the best way to treat respiratory - ugh!”

“Stop ruining the moment!” Yuzuri scolded, removing her elbow from his side. “We waited too long for this! Speaking of which,” she held out her hand, “pay up.”

The next few moments were filled with the sounds of grumbling and gold changing hands. However, the two on the cot were too occupied to care.

***

I hope you enjoyed!

[k-itsmaywriting]

Adrift in the Snow (1/2) : One Month

Content warning: vomit mention

They arrived at Starlight Gate when the sun was at its highest.

The journey back from the last house in the northern region of Clarines was not rushed. Though it was tiring, horse-riding for long days and sleeping in unfamiliar beds for longer nights, Shirayuki, Obi and Ryuu weren’t close to dozing off on the last leg of their travels to Wistal.

Shirayuki could only hope the others wouldn’t realise she was stalling.

She had been anticipating that day for a long time – one where she held her head high in front of Izana, the fruits of her hard work over the years beared before him. At times she imagined Obi and Ryuu with her, at others it’d be Zen. It was his side she worked to stand by for so long, after all. And for years that ambition was as clear as day, and if she had to prove herself to a king, then she would.

But when she stood in his Majesty Izana’s office, blinding sun spilling through the tall windows, only grey clouds filled her head.

Izana gently flicked through the final pages of their report, speaking as he read. “Each house you’ve visited in the north has agreed to the plantation of Phostyrias before the start of the next winter.” With a small smile on his lips, he looked up at them as he laid it on his desk. “Congratulations, you’ve successfully completed your mission.”

Shirayuki’s heart lifted, and for a moment she could focus on the joy. “Thank you,” she breathed. “We couldn’t have done it without all the people who believe in the Phostyrias as much as we do.”

Perhaps she was projecting, or maybe the sun was too bright, but she swore she could see Izana’s smile warm.

“Miss and Little Ryuu convinced them first,” said Obi. There was a lightness in his voice that made him sound so gentle that Shirayuki couldn’t help but look at him. “That was the whole point.”

Ryuu stood up straighter. “It was the three of us, together,” he said. “Obi was chosen for a reason too.”

Shirayuki wanted that moment to last forever. The three of them, standing together after all they’ve been through. She had felt so strong then with their support.

Yet so weak, knowing it wasn’t going to last.

“But speaking of Ryuu and Shirayuki specifically,” Izana interjected, “this does bring up our next discussion, and that’s regarding both of your transfers to Wilant Castle as Royal Pharmacists.”

Both, he had said. And Shirayuki’s stomach dropped to the floor.

Izana looked at Ryuu first. “You initially deferred your transfer in order to accompany Shirayuki and Obi on their mission around the north. Now that that has been successful, I expect that you will be transferring within the next month.”

Ryuu nodded firmly. “Yes, your Majesty.”

Izana then looked back at her. “And Shirayuki.”

The skin of Shirayuki’s neck broke into sweat. It was the moment she’d been dreading. The decision. One she thought she already made up her mind on for long but…

If Izana noticed anything, it did not stop him. “Since your first time in Lilias, I have been impressed with your work, your dedication and your potential. And with the success of the Phostyrias throughout its entire process, I believe you’ve proven yourself to me enough.”

It was as though the room centred in on her, caging her, as he said, “I trust that you will do well, as you have here in Wistal and in Lilias. You will be going with him.”

She expected nothing different from his Majesty, Shirayuki thought, that it wasn’t a question. He gave nothing away – neither what he knew nor what he didn’t. All she could give him then, like the first time she ever met him, was honesty, even if it meant those who ever doubted her might’ve been right.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth and…

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

“One meatball and one cabbage soup?”

Shirayuki sits a little straighter and smiles as the waitress sets the bowls on the table. She glances across her towards Suzu, who is already eating the cabbage with his eyes, and stifles a laugh.

Suzu deadpans at her when the waitress leaves. “What?”

“Nothing.” Her grin widens as she picks up her spoon. “I’ve just never seen you look at cabbage so intensely.”

“After the amount of vomiting that went on all afternoon, I do not want anything hearty sloshing around in my guts.”

Shirayuki grimaces, but she tries not to let the image ruin her meatball soup. She deserves this. It’s been a long day and they’re in for a cold night. It’s just too bad the amount of complaints from stomach bugs and food poisoning meant the university kitchens would be closed for the night while they figured out what went wrong.

The town swelled with a sudden influx of hungry scholars searching for dinner. But with the snowy winds outside, she and Suzu settled for speed-walking across the town into an inn restaurant they didn’t know instead of waiting in line.

At least there’s a big fireplace, Shirayuki thinks while she lifts the spoon to her mouth. And decent soup. Obi would like it, if he was there.

In-between slow bites, she looks out the window next to her. They’re past the town square, but not so far that the streets aren’t lively. There are a few shop names she recognises from Yuzuri and Kirito’s recommendations. Then, further out and around the corner there’s an inn larger than the others. She sees the sign out front and—

Her heart drops, though it doesn’t have very far to fall. It feels more like tripping up a stair and hitting her knees on the next. Short, but still with a tang of bitterness in her mouth. It makes her frown.

“What are you looking at?”

Shirayuki rests her chin on her hand, gaze still out the window. “That inn across the road. Zen and I got stranded there in a snowstorm that time he came to visit.”

Suzu leans over the table and peeks outside. “Oh.” Then he slowly plops back down awkwardly in his chair. “Haven’t heard about him in a while. I don’t really know what happened after that, but…”

What happened was that Zen’s jealousy got…Shirayuki shakes her head and doesn’t finish the thought. There’s no use going down that road again, thinking about the trespassing and the close calls that almost cost her reputation and the Phostyrias mission. She can only be glad now that neither of those things were lost. But still, in all the years of aiming to stand by his side, thankful for the kind hand he reached out to her that very first morning by the border of Clarines, she didn’t think he’d be a reason for it all to almost come toppling down.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t grateful for Zen. She doesn’t know where she’d be if he hadn’t helped her. But even though they agreed that they’re still important and dear to each other and could still be close friends, they still haven’t written to each other. It was sobering to realise that wasn’t actually new. It made her wonder, underneath all those secret kisses hidden away in forests and between great pillars, whether faith without real communication or trust was all they had. And how long ago it had become that way.

“Maybe after being away from each other for so long,” she says, “he could only remember what I was to him, but not who I was. Like he forgot what it meant for me to stand on my own feet and walk my own path.” Or to fight her own battles and emerge victorious through sincerity that blooms hopes into bright futures, the way she always has and always will.

“Was that the deal breaker?”

Shirayuki turns to look at Suzu’s blank face. He’s not judging, just curious because he cares. So, she nods.

Suzu nods back. “That’s fair.” And he continues eating like the conversation never happened. “So, has Ryuu written from Wilant yet?”

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

 “No.”

The air in the room dropped two degrees. Silent. She couldn’t look anywhere but at Izana, surprise flashing across his face for a moment. But she still had much rather looked at him than either of the people beside her.

Izana smooths his expression into neutrality. “No?”

“I…” Shirayuki looked down at her hands. “I don’t…I don’t know…”

 “Miss?”

She knew it was a mistake to look up at him before she even did it. Her heart wrenched.

Obi’s eyes were wide with disbelief, holding his breath the same way Shirayuki’s was trapped in her chest and clawing at her lungs. “You’re really…?”

She couldn’t tear her eyes from Obi’s. It was torture, watching the thoughts of what went wrong and how and what it meant rushing through his head when the decision was hers and hers alone. “If I were to leave for Wilant tomorrow,” she said, “I wouldn’t be able to tell you that that is what I truly want right now."

“You do realise, Shirayuki, that I unfortunately cannot wait for you forever,” Izana said calmly. “And unlike Ryuu, there was no current mission that you can undertake that will allow you to defer your offer.”

The storm still brewed inside her head. She didn’t know which decision would ease the turbulence, but she nodded solemnly regardless. Choosing one. “Yes, your Majesty. I understand that fully.”

They left Izana’s office in silence.

Obi lingered by the door as it closed behind them. “Is it because of Master?”

Shirayuki stopped. As she stared into no particular space in front of her, Ryuu excused himself and left in the direction of the pharmacy.

It was a lie to say no, but yes wasn’t entirely accurate either. There was more to it that she couldn’t explain.

“I thought that even though your understanding is over,” Obi murmured, “you’re still important to each other. That’s what you said, didn’t you?”

Shirayuki turned around. “We did. It’s just…It’s just that things have changed. I can’t act like I know for certain that what I want now is the same as before, as if I love Zen like I used to. Because I…” She looked down at the ground, defeated. “I’m sorry, Obi. I know you wished for our happiness for all these years.”

Obi’s footsteps drew closer, his shadow right behind. When Shirayuki looked up at him, he was smiling at her sadly.

“But above all else, Miss, I wish for yours.”

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

It’s been a month since then.

Ryuu’s absence is deafening. Shirayuki still looks to her side, searching for his thoughts written in the way he furrows his eyebrows and the sharp focus of his gaze.

She never really talked to Obi about her decision, neither before nor after that morning in Izana’s office. She feels like a bad friend for not. She wants to, if only she can fully explain with words the heavy confusion that rolls inside her gut.

She’s been wandering back-and-forth through the halls of Lilias like a ghost. Without any new research to undertake, she’s been picking up extra shifts in the pharmacy and spending long nights in the library studying. But it doesn’t fill the void she’s trapped in. It’s as though there are cracks in the mirror where she sees herself, a whole piece that’s gone missing right where her eyes are supposed to be. Where she now finds nothing when she tries to look forward.

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

The front door to the dormitories shuts out the snowy winds. As they catch their breath, Shirayuki and Suzu shake the snow out of their hair and off their coats. She can feel the warmth of the lanterns in the hallway seeping into her skin, little by little.

Suzu unwraps his scarf from his neck. “Well, I’m heading straight to bed. I’ll see you at the pharmacy tomorrow morning?”

Shirayuki smiles and nods. “Yeah. See you. And thanks for inviting me out today.”

“No problem,” he says, backing towards the left hallway that leads to his room.

Then Shirayuki is alone again, storm raging on and all.

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

She draws her hand away from Obi’s door.

She worries her lip and steps back. She feels so…silly, turning up at his door again at night. She just wants to feel like things are normal, like they can talk for hours and sleep in the same bed when it’s cold. Like there’s nothing she’s keeping from him.

Why is it suddenly so hard?

She huffs and turns away, tugging the ends of her nightgown sleeves over her hands. He’s sleeping, she thinks. But she takes two steps down the hall when suddenly the door clicks and creaks open. “Miss?”

Obi’s voice is but a husk, and Shirayuki turns around again, apology already on her tongue. “I’m sorry, I know you have an early morning tomorrow so just…forget that I—”

“You know that I don’t mind, Miss.” he says softly. “All you have to do is knock.”

Obi steps back as Shirayuki enters his room. Pitch black envelops it as he closes the door behind her, but even though she can’t see, it’s only a matter of seconds before she crawls onto the bed and snuggles into his blankets.

In the darkness, Obi’s laugh is a low rumble, warm like summer lightning. “You know, a man’s going to get ideas when you keep turning up to his room late at night like this.”

The bed dips next to her. Obi is barely under the blankets when Shirayuki instinctively entwines their ankles, and he wraps an arm around her shoulder. His body is a furnace – Shirayuki’s close to falling asleep right then and there, but she fights it. She wants to tell him. She wants him to know. “Obi?”

Her eyes are still adjusting to the dark, but she can see that Obi opens his and looks at her. Waiting patiently.

He’s always so good to her it…it almost doesn’t feel fair anymore. “Can I be honest with you about something?”

His breathing stills. “What is it?”

Even though they’re so close now, she can’t help but think about how far away from him she felt in that morning inside Izana’s office. When she had told him no. And the way Obi had looked at her…

“I feel like I’ve made a mistake, telling Izana I didn’t want to go to Wilant,” she says. “Not because I want to go now, but…” She breathes deep, lets the air slowly fill her chest. “I spent so long working, trying to prove myself to people so that I could stand by Zen’s side because I…I loved him. But now I don’t and I just…don’t know what to do next.”

She feels like she’s floating in a dark void, not knowing where she is or how she can move. She hates the way it makes her feel. Like she’s…

It hits her. And she whispers, “I feel lost because it’s only about me now. Not me and Zen, just me.”

Shirayuki’s eyes flicker up to Obi’s. He’s staring back at her, eyes as wide as hers.

Suddenly it seems so obvious that Shirayuki can’t help but laugh at herself. “Goodness, how was that so hard? It’s been years since I only needed to think about what I wanted, and what was good for me. But now that I’m not chasing Zen, I’ve turned away the exact thing I came here for in the first place and now I’m just…lost.”

“And I’m sorry I haven’t talked about it with you until now,” she blurts. “I knew you were upset about Zen and me. I just felt like…” Her voice lowers. The shakiness in it is one she doesn’t recognise. “I was afraid that you were going to be disappointed in me.”

“No, no – I’d never…” he breathes. “I didn’t know it was going to change your decision. But like I told you then, I wish for your happiness more than anything else. I didn’t want you to be sad alone.”

Tears prick at Shirayuki’s eyes. She blinks them away, but her heart swells regardless as she rests her forehead against his chest. “Thank you.”

A hitch catches in Obi’s throat. But with a slow exhale, he softens against her. “We don’t always know where we’re going, but sometimes we end up staying in places we never thought we would.”

“I may had worked to prove myself to Izana,” she says, “but I also worked to prove myself here, in Lilias. I’ve made friends for a lifetime and been challenged in ways I never would’ve imagined when I was back in Tanbarun.”

She feels Obi smile into her hair. “Yeah. Exactly.”

His heart beats softly against the palm of her hand. If she moves it up, she’d touch the scar on his chest. But instead she wraps her arm around his side and pulls herself closer to his chest, breathes deeply of the smell of warm, brown earth, sighing.

Closer now, Obi’s fingers are still against her back. But slowly, he exhales, fingers shyly playing with the long strands of her hair.

“I know you don’t talk about Tanbarun much,” Obi murmurs. “But what things did you look forward to back then?”

Shirayuki hums, pondering. “I would just try to help the customers who came in each day. I made sure I had the supplies and the money to make it to the next one. It wasn’t anything big, but it was already enough to keep me busy.”

“But were you happy?”

She thinks about the open fields on the outskirts of town, of wildflowers and the deep forests of her childhood, of the smiles of the villagers and their good health. Of healing.

The thoughts make her smile from somewhere light, deep in her heart. “Yeah.”

She supposes that it’s not all different from back then. Instead of breezy winds, she wakes up to snow under the soles of her boots and sees colour return to the faces of soldiers and exhausted academics. Her forests have been replaced with libraries. Solitude with company.

She doesn’t have to run forward to reach for the next place in her life just yet. For now, she can just be.

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

The storm has calmed by the next morning.

Shirayuki cracks her eyes open one at a time, waking up wrapped in blankets and Obi’s limbs. It’s a little brighter than expected for this time of year, but she’s not complaining.

Outside, Lilias’ bell tower chimes throughout the campus. She counts the great tones under her breath, letting the sound wake her.

When there’s one more bell than there should be, she gasps and starts furiously tapping Obi’s shoulder. “Obi, wake up!”

He groans. “Five more minutes, Miss…”

“We can’t, it’s already eight!” She snakes out of Obi’s arms and out of the bed, padding towards his window to throw open the curtains. Sunlight spills into the room. Obi rolls onto his back and throws an arm over his eyes, groaning more. To an exaggerated degree, even.

She turns around and crawls back onto the bed next to him. “We might be able to get breakfast if we hurry, Obi.”

In one smooth motion, Obi sits up. He droops forward and lets his head fall, bringing a hand up to scratch his endearingly messy bedhead. “Surely the trainees know what to do without me telling them at this point.”

Shirayuki sighs, rolling her eyes in an attempt to hold in the smile that threatens her.

“Alright, I got it, Miss,” Obi turns his head to her and grins widely—

But not before Shirayuki grabs his face in both her hands and promptly kisses his nose.

When she pulls back, Obi is stunned to silence. The tips of his ears are searing red.

“Come on, Obi,” she says, sliding off the bed. “We’ve made it to today. Let’s do our best.”

[thecatwhogrins]

Brought Back (Part 2) Obiyukiweek19 (Day 3: Gluttony)

Part two of the Necromancer AU :)

Warning! Mentions of abuse and death.

Obi sat on his bad with a sigh, a glass of whatever alcohol he had found in his cabinet and wiped a hand over his face, trying to dispel the last remnants of sleeps from his mind.

Instead, when he closed his eyes, he remembered Shirayuki.

He remembered her wide eyes full of fear but also curiosity. When she had softly touched him, he had shivered. Hard. It had been so long since he had felt the touch of someone who was alive and breathing. He decided he would keep that feeling like a token to remember that the real world existed, that beyond the calls of the dead and the pain of the living and the bruises caused by human hands, there also existed good people.

His phone rang, pulling him out of his reverie. He answered, his voice slightly muffled, the pain in his jaw too painful to ignore. As soon as he heard who was on the other side, his day went from bad to worse.

*

Shirayuki ended her shift, sighing heavily as she took off her equipment, snapping her gloves off. Despite the several coffees she had downed during the day, her whole body still felt heavy with weariness. Yuzuri and Shirayuki were mortuary assistants, they worked with the coroners or medical examiners. It wasn’t an easy job, but she did it well and the pay wasn’t bad.

The body they had just examined was part of an unusually violent homicide case. She wasn’t sure about the details yet, but it seemed to be part of something larger. Yuzuri was worried they might have a serial killer on the loose. Garack, while not voicing it out loud, seemed to think the same. This wasn’t uncommon in a big city like Tokyo, but the thought of it sent shivers down Shirayuki’s back. Suddenly last night’s encounter seemed even less safe.

Her mind wandered off to Obi, wondering if he managed to get back to his apartment without encountering the other man. Yuzuri would probably have a field day admonishing her about the dangers she could have been exposed to once she’d hear about the encounter.

“I’ll be right back, going catch us some lunch. What do you want?” asked Yuzuri, smiling as she headed out the door of the break room. The break room was near the morgue itself, but other staff members of the hospital used it as well. Doctors and nurses were milling around, drinking coffee and eating lunch.

“Just the usual, please. Thank you, Yuzuri,” Shirayuki smiled at her friend.

“Gotchu!” she winked and left.

Shirayuki looked down at her paperwork, absorbed by what she was seeing. The corpse she had just helped examine belonged to a female, probably in her twenties and had had its hands cut off and the face had also been badly mutilated, probably to avoid identification. The strangest detail of this homicide was the fact that the rest of the body had been treated with utmost care, almost reverentially. This was important, as the other bodies concerned in the investigation had also been in the same state. What were they dealing with?

Shirayuki’s mind was reeling when suddenly she noticed someone walking in the hallway.

It was Obi.

His face didn’t look much better compared to yesterday, purple and yellow blotches blooming all over like dark flowers. His gait still indicated that he was in pain and his hair wasn’t brushed. His eyes held a wild determined look as he strode forward. Shirayuki found herself standing up unwillingly as she followed him. He was heading… straight towards the morgue.

No one was there at this hour. She followed from a distance, cautious.

Why was he here?

*

Obi entered the morgue, hoping no one had seen him. He locked the door, as he wasn’t in the mood for interruptions. What he was about to do was risky and demanded his full attention. Fortunately, this was not his first rodeo.

He searched the tags, looking for the name, Shizuka Atsushi. Having found it, he carefully pulled the metallic stretcher out, revealing the corpse. Obi swallowed heavily, closed his eyes and started invoking. His whole body ached with the effort as the voices screamed in his ears.

The corpse trembled, fingers twitching slightly, as though a newfound breath of life had entered it. But it was unnatural life, a factice, twisted version that crawled throughout the long-dead corpse. The body started sitting up, jerkily, like an obscene puppet being pulled up by its strings. The other voices quieted down and the only one that Obi could now hear was loud and clear and it said:

“Oh my God!”

Obi looked up, startled, as the woman from last night, Shirayuki, stood by the door, mouth agape in horror.

His fragile concentration snapped like a twig and he lost control, the corpse started jerking, the spirit inside trying to break free. Obi brought his eyes back to the corpse, trying to regain control, but he could see the redhead ready to bolt.

He dropped everything and ran to stop her from alerting the whole building. His hip crashed into the side of the stretcher, cursing and in pain, he managed to grab her wrist. Before he could open his mouth, she crouched, used his weight against him and flipped him over her shoulder. He landed on the cold linoleum floor, wheezing, air knocked out of him.

The silence was resounding in the small room as Obi tried to regain his breath and Shirayuki her composure. She turned around once more to alert someone, but he finally managed to talk.

“I swear I wasn’t doing whatever you think I was doing,” he managed to wheeze.

“So, you’re telling you were not about to steal the corpse? I don’t see any other reason why you’d be here. Unless…” A true look of disgust and horror manifested on her face and Obi wished he could die. Telling the truth seemed almost worse than whatever she was imagining.

As he was about to try explaining himself, the corpse started moving again and Shirayuki let out a string of profanities so long, Obi would have laughed in other circumstances. It started to try getting off the stretcher, its stiff limbs and handless arms shambling with dull thuds.

Obi scrambled off the floor and asked a petrified Shirayuki to hold still while he released the spirit. She probably hadn’t even heard him as her whole body was frozen in shock. When she had entered the room and seen the body move, she had thought it had been Obi trying to prop it up. But, clearly, this wasn’t the case anymore. Her mind was reeling, trying to understand and make sense of what she was seeing but she couldn’t.

The corpse stopped jerking and settled back down. Obi heaved a sigh and looked at Shirayuki who still stood frozen. He tentatively touched her shoulder, as he was afraid she’d throw him over shoulder again. Instead, she flinched and cowered from his touch. He couldn’t blame her.

“Did that corpse just…” she couldn’t make herself say the words that were on the tip of her tongue.

Obi was at a loss. Even if he told her the truth, she’d never accept it. This went beyond what the human mind could comprehend. Some days, even he had a hard time understanding his powers.

His curse.

He cursed mentally at himself, at how careless he had been. She was probably going to call the police, and this meant he wouldn’t be able to get the information he needed. Which meant he wouldn’t get payed. Which meant no booze.

Shirayuki was staring at him again, the same expression she had last night was once again on her face, a mix of fear and curiosity.

“You’d better explain this,” she said, almost too calmly.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I did,” he whispered.

“Try me.”

*

The first time Obi brought a corpse back to life, he had been seven years old. He was playing in the backyard where nothing grew, except for a few weeds and was kicking around rocks, singing to himself the theme of Kamen Raider to cover the sounds of fighting back at the house. The new foster parents were much like the ones before, using him to get perks from the government. He had learned that adults were like insatiable pigs, always searching for more and always taking. He was nursing his sore cheek, and the other bruises were sure to show up soon.

In the dirt, a white pebble stuck out, like a growing plant. Obi kneeled by it, observing the strange protuberance. It was a gloomy day, the sun was hidden and the wind was patrolling the city. On the street, a dog barked, and Obi suddenly wished he had a companion with him to play with.

The wind whistled, then roared. At Obi’s feet, the white pebble started moving on its own, and what he once thought was a pebble turned out to be a bone. Other bones joined, clattering, in a mound at Obi’s feet until there sat a pile of them. The started to form themselves into a small form, like a mouse or a gerbil. The small creature had probably died there and decomposed a while ago, the bones were bleached white, no muscle or meat in sight. The revenant clattered and rattled, threatening to dissolve if it moved too much.

Obi marveled at this but a sense of fear also grew in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t allowed to have a pet in the house, what would he do with his new friend?

He snapped back to reality when a rough hand slapped the back of his head.

“What are you doing here, boy?” the voice was harsh, the smell of alcohol harsher.

Whatever the man was about to say was swallowed by a terrified scream of horror and a string of profanities .

The mouse became a pile of bones once more.

Obi didn’t see the sun for three days.

The day he summoned a spirit for the first time was also the first time he learned he was a monster.

[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.”