#he goes and visits them when they're cleared for visitors

[softquietsteadylove]

For the Thenamesh doctor AU. There is this patient (adult or kid) who has a mental breakdown and nobody can calm him down. So Thena calls Gil and ask him if he can give it a try :)

Maybe you can put a soft moment in the end?

"Gil?"

"Hey Honey," he grins at her, dropping his sandwich and wiping off his hands. He frowns at the look on her face. "What's wrong?"

Thena nods her head for him to come with her, which he does in an instant. "Husband of a patient in surgery. He's utterly beside himself and no one can get him to calm down."

"No one?"

"Not even Ajak," Thena pauses and looks up at him before they cross into the waiting room, "not even Sersi."

This is bad. Gil looks through the window of the swinging door and back to her. "And you think I can help?"

Thena shrugs one shoulder and looks up at him. He can't be sure, but he swears she's trying to look extra cute. "Well, you're the best at calming patients on the way here."

"That's-" he pauses, looking down as she rubs the zipper of his hoodie between her thumb and finger.

"I always find your company very soothing."

Dammit. She has to know how cute she is--she just has to! Gil sighs, "I'll try."

He pushes through the door and walks over to the man with his whole head in his hands, weeping and gasping for air. Sersi is beside him, speaking softly in that gentle accent of hers. But if not even she - the GP known for being as gentle as a butterfly - can calm him down, Gil really doesn't know what he's supposed to be able to do.

Thena must have told Sersi she was going for him specifically, though, because Sersi catches his eye and nods him over.

"Gil, this is Mister Wells. He's waiting for his wife to get out of an emergency bypass."

"Hi there," Gil begins gently, sitting in the seat Sersi vacates for him as she returns to her work. He leans forward in hopes of getting a look at the poor guy. "I'm a paramedic here at the hospital. Your wife is in surgery?"

The man mumbles something, still holding his head in his hands and now pulling faintly at his hair.

"Listen, I know you've been told a million times that we're doing everything we can, but," Gil pauses. It's true, sure. But that doesn't mean anything to this poor man. This poor bastard who is beside himself, sitting out here, unable to do anything. "But I guess I can't really promise you anything, huh?"

The absolutely haggard man finally pulls his head up and looks at Gil. At the very least, he definitely heard what he said, because he looks nothing short of aghast. "They sent you to comfort me?"

"I know," Gil shrugs, his hands in his hoodie pockets as he moves. "But my...someone asked me to come and talk to you. So I did."

His eyes run over Gil critically, "and what makes you so special?"

"Well, nothing, I guess," Gil purses his lips momentarily. "I'm not even a doctor, so I'm not really obliged to have any bedside manner or anything."

"I'll say."

"But," Gil pauses, his smile fading. "A few weeks ago...I guess I found myself in a situation a little like this. Nothing quite as serious, but...sure did scare me."

The older man finally looks at Gil--really looks at him. He sits up just a little, looking somewhat more like a human and less like a broken shell of a man. "Yeah?"

Gil nods, still haunted by the sight of Thena under that car. "Have nightmares about it and everything."

Mister Wells thinks for a second, sidestepping the question of what actually happened. "How'd you get through it?--the wondering, I mean. How'd you get through the...the what ifs?"

Gil takes a deep breath, thinking about the feeling of Thena's freezing cold hand in his and how she had let just a few tears slip out. "I...I guess I couldn't really get all the way there. I couldn't fully imagine what my life would be like without her."

Tears come to the poor man's eyes as he starts to curl up again. "I-I don't know-! I don't know what I'll do without her!"

Gil just pats the man's shoulder, letting him cry. He's sure that's all he would be capable of if Thena...

He had said those exact words to her; he had told her that nothing would happen to her, because he was there. But he didn't actually have that power to guarantee that. He would have put his very life on the line to do so, but sometimes things just don't work out that way.

It is true: he has had nightmares. Dreams of walking into the hospital and feeling something wasn't right. Looking for someone he can't name and yet whose absence he feels like a hole in his chest. He's had dreams of her dying in his arms, under that car, in the rain, and the cold, and him trying to help her entirely in vain.

"I can't tell you either," Gil offers, rather lamely, if he's being honest. Which he is. "But I can tell you that she'd tell you she loves you."

He looks at Gil again. "What?"

"She would tell you she loves you," Gil can guarantee. "And I'm sure she wouldn't want you out here tearing out the rest of your hair over it."

Wells gives Gil a look, which only encourages him.

"Look, I don't know what I'd do without Thena either," he professes entirely truthfully, hand - out of his pocket - to his heart. "But while she was in her surgery, I thought about all the things I love about her."

Finally - at long fucking last - the guy smiles a little.

Gil smiles too. "I thought about her laugh, about what jokes make her smile and which ones make her slap me on the arm."

Wells almost chuckles at that one.

"I thought about how I would tell her how beautiful she is, and how I can't imagine a single day without her."

The greying man nods, tears in his eyes, a smile on his face. Gil has finally found the right chord to strike.

"I thought about all the time we've had, all my favourite things about her," Gil sits back again, "and then, just like that, she was out. She was right in front of me again."

Wells sniffles a little, blinking away the last of his tears. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Gil nods. "And I guess I should promise that it'll happen for you too."

Wells shrugs. He knows just as well as Gil does that there's no such guarantee.

"But," Gil shifts uncomfortably. He hasn't let himself think about this much since it happened. Why would he? "But if she...if she hadn't..."

Wells doesn't press him.

Gil leaves the statement as it is, but looks up and smiles at him as best he can. "I think I'd just keep thinking all that stuff. I would think about her every second, of every minute, until the day I die."

Both men nod, a level of understanding passing between them that far exceeds any well wishes or empty promises. Gil has offered what he can, and nothing more.

Wells extends his hand, which Gil shakes firmly. "Thank you."

Gil raises his brows, "I don't know if I can say I'm happy to help, but I'm glad I got to talk to you."

"I-"

"Mister Wells?"

Gil stands with him as Eros comes into view. He's not Gil's favourite of their co-workers, but the guy knows his way around a heart.

The Brit pulls off his mask to give the man a smile, "your wife has pulled through rather beautifully, sir. She'll be back in her room by the time you get up there, then I'll come see you about the plan moving forward."

Gil catches Wells before he can collapse to the floor in relief. Gil tries to keep the completely boneless man upright and nods to the surgeon, "thanks, man."

Eros offers Gil a stiff nod and leaves.

"Hey," Gil gets Wells back in his chair and pats his back. "Hey, it's okay. Everything worked out."

He nods, at least, his head in his hands again, although at least the tears are happy this time.

"Come on, you've gotta get hydrated," Gil pats his shoulder, offering his arm to help the man to go see his wife (and any water coolers they can find along the way).

"Th-Thank you," he pats Gil's arm as they shuffle along in elation.

Gil smiles at the man, happy he can go tell Thena all the good news. And finish his sandwich. "I'm happy I could help, sir."

[soulgazingwithbucky]

Mr. Barnes, Teacher Aide of the Year (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Teacher!Reader

Summary: Your brooding Avenger boyfriend becomes a regular visitor in your classroom.

Warnings: flufffffff

Word count: 1k

A/N: absolute self-indulgence - can you tell I miss being a teacher lmao? also Bucky with kids also grumpy bf/playful gf dynamic ugh my heart

When your first graders ask if you're bringing anything to the show-and-tell party, a lightbulb goes off

"I would be the coolest teacher ever if an Avenger came to visit!" "I dunno, doll..." "Come on, you're so good with Cass and AJ!" "That's different. They're family."

You try to convince him by telling him Steve has done a lot for schools. Bucky looks confused so you show him the Captain America Fitness Challenge and all of Steve's PSAs. This derails the conversation for at least 24 hours as Bucky descends into a record-breaking laughing fit. He laughs in bed with you, he laughs at the dinner table, he visits Steve's memorial to laugh with him there

Eventually, he agrees. You wake up to him ironing a henley and chinos. You tut at him and he shoots you a disbelieving look

"Ah, come on, love, cheer up," you tell him as you grab your work bag. He's waiting for you by the door, grumpy as ever in the black leather jacket and steel toe boots he wears on missions. You tighten the buckle across his chest as he scowls at you. "It's for the kids!"

You spend the car ride convincing Bucky that the kids will love him. He carries your bags into the building, but you stop him short at the entrance. He raises his eyebrow at you as you grip the leather sleeve on his left arm and pull. "Oh, come oooonnnn, doll!" he groans as you wave him into the building, detachable sleeve in tow. "Give the people what they want, babe!" you say.

You prepare your classroom for the day before the kids come in. Your room is suddenly the most popular in the building as staff filter in and out, hearing rumors that an Avenger would be in the building. Your principal insists that Bucky speak to the whole school next time. Your work best friend gives him a friendly hug- you all just had dinner the other night, after all. The entire third grade team comes and gets pictures, each of them marveling at a different muscle group on your boyfriend

Your students LOVE him. You eventually have to ask him to spend some time in the teacher's lounge so your class can focus on your lessons

After that, he becomes a monthly visitor. You create a makeshift "Mr. Barnes Day" on the class calendar. The kids count down the days till they see him again

You have to collect black and yellow crayons from the other classrooms. Your supply runs out too quickly because your kids can't stop drawing themselves with a metal arm

One of your students is having a particularly challenging day. Bucky thinks quickly and takes the rest of your kids outside for an impromptu recess. You help your student calm down, and then you both watch Bucky and the class through the window. The kids are absolutely piling on top of him. Your kids proudly declare that they defeated an Avenger when they go home to their families

It's clear one of your students favors Bucky over you, and only accepts help from Bucky when he visits. She asks Bucky for help with a math worksheet, and his eyes widen when he watches her try to solve it. "This is not how we learned it in the '20s," he whispers to you

Bucky comes home one day, proudly declaring that he has the perfect book to read aloud to the class. The cover is a cartoon drawing of an all-American man with a vibranium shield. He is so excited to read "The Hero from Brooklyn" to your students. The final pages even have drawings of him and Sam, "the best friends a hero could have." "Mr. Barnes, is that youuuu?!" your kids wonder.

You turn Bucky's age into the word problem of the day. "If Mr. Barnes is 25 + 83 years old, how old is he?" Your kids frantically calculate on their papers. "108?!?!" your kids yell. Lukas says that's older than his grandma. Nevaeh says that's older than her great-grandma. Raja gently begins to describe color to him, and you both realize she thinks Bucky sees in black and white

Your students beg Bucky to come in during spirit week. They've missed him dearly, as he has been gone for two months on assignment with Sam. Tuesday is Career Day, and he compliments all the little doctors and teachers as they step off the school bus. He is shocked to see a little kid in all black with their arm wrapped in foil. But more and more Buckies filter in, until he is surrounded by a sea of mini-mes. "We're gonna be superheroes when we grow up!!!" they yell, arms adorned in refashioned black tights, foil, and gold body paint. Bucky sheepishly asks if you can take a picture. Bucky usually hates taking pictures, and his request makes your whole year

You told your class that Bucky was just your friend, but your students are way too smart to believe that, especially after Bucky accidentally calls you "sweetheart" in front of them. Graham misses a day for his aunt's wedding; he comes back and asks if you two would invite the class to your wedding. The class loses their marbles over this, yelling, "Mrs. Barrnnessss!" at you. Bucky turns red. During snack, some of the kids draw pictures of what your ring should look like. You proudly hang it up on your fridge at home

At the end of the year, you invite your students' families to a class celebration. You do this every year, but this year has the best turnout (gee, you wonder why). You have a silly awards ceremony, with certificates celebrating "Most Dinosaur Facts Memorized" and "Best at Catching Their Teacher's Mistakes". Bucky is a puddle of pride and love in the corner until the kids demand he comes up. He's confused until they shove a certificate in his hand: "Mr. Barnes, Best Teacher Helper Ever"

[fuckingfinwions]

Your mind is fucking awesome. You've completely convinced me of Sam-Dean Maemags. What's the end point, in your opinion? Do they ever come together (in Arda, after the twins leave, post reimbodiment, etc) Hell, even Maedhros dying and leaving Maglor to live life alone like Sam had to live after Dean's death is a near match in theme. I am a romantic at heart and I like to imagine that somewhere thousands of years down the line they share their own little reimbodied corner of the universe just like Sam and Dean share a heaven. Maybe it's a fortress, or a cabin in the woods, or maybe just a little camp in a plentiful forest where they won't be bothered (or noticed, if they sleep in the same bed roll...)

The boring answer is that they never actually commit that final sin/devotion with each other before Maedhros dies, and once Reborn they're no longer trapped together alone. They almost never speak of "how things were in the end", and do their best to ignore how much they need each other. They try to build separate lives as separate people.

But like I said, that's boring.

I think they fuck at least once in the late first age, with a flimsy excuse, probably due to one of their injured pride.

Maglor does a bad job hiding in the woods one time and Maedhros hears someone moving nearby. Maedhros tells him to come out and face me, would you really sneak attack someone who's jerking it? Maglor walks into the clearing so that Maedhros will no it's just him, not an orc or a bandit, and will stop yelling and giving their position away to actual threats. Maedhros says "Maglor!" in surprise, and comes.

After that, the boundary is broken. The other of them might as well stay and keep watch while his brother masturbates. (At minimum Maedhros should get to see Maglor's O-face once, so the intimacy between them stays even with neither having an imbalance over the other (that's a huge lie.) But also it's maybe practical.) The one who's keeping watch has to keep his stare moving, alert for any danger. And when Maglor is masturbating he gazes at Maedhros, so he'll know in an instant if Maedhros goes on alert. Not because he likes looking at his brother while stroking his cock, of course. But they both notice - and say nothing about - that they come faster than when their brother was off in the woods giving them "privacy".

I like the idea of them reembodied in a little cabin together. Somewhere far up in the mountains where no one else goes. Maedhros goes into Tirion for Fingon's centennial birthday parties, and Maglor goes to the every twenty years greatest concert in Aman, and the both visit Nerdanel once a decade. Other than that they keep to themselves. Their family knows that each of them is off living alone in the wilderness, but not that they're doing it together.

They don't get many visitors, but even when they do it's not hard to hide that they're living together. Maedhros will claim to be just visiting, or perhaps Maglor will spot the visitor before they spot him and vanish into the trees for the entire visit. The house has one bed, a few clothes that are short on Maedhros and long on Maglor, a rocking chair and an armchair that perhaps are just fir the inhabitant's different moods. There isn't anything as obvious as only two bowls or plates, they packed up a full set or ceramic dishes and half of it broke when hiking in. So there are three mugs and five plates and two bowls, and you gave no idea how many people live there. The weapons in the closet might reveal that someone is here who favors the longsword, or the bassoon in the corner reveals a musician. But even Curufin, when he visits, just believes that Maedhros visits Maglor more often than he does. After all, the cabin is so tiny, two people could never get away from each other there for even a moment, no one could possibly share that space without going insane.

Fic rec: Strange Currencies by jouissant is about Maedhros being reborn in Valinor, after he and Maglor married each other mostly by accident when wandering dying Beleriand. And elves can see in each other's eyes when someone is married, so Maedhros is trying to avoid anyone else putting two and two together that the brothers were both unmarried when last people saw them, and then wandered off together. It's very good and very similar vibes to this.

[honey-sweeeet]

you change with the seasons; sugawara koushi

(cross posted from my ao3)

cw; theres smut at the end lol

A letter writing fic inspired by Violet Evergarden in which Suga has his very own secret admirer. 

word count; 13k

WINTER

The orphanage rarely had visitors. There was the annual visit from the town mayor, which was really there to keep face with everyone in town. There was, of course, the sporadic visits from prospective families for the young children. But aside from that, the only scheduled visitor the children got was the mail delivery man.

That was up until recently.

Three heavy, measured knocks rang out from the grand double door in the entranceway to the orphanage. You dashed down the stairs quickly, intercepting a toddler from opening the door to a stranger. You swept the small child up, lifting him onto your hip while another Sister went dashing for the door. Everyone knew who it was going to be at this time - you only had one person willing to come visit the children without fail every weekend. No matter if it was in the dead of winter, thunderously raining in monsoon season, or baking hot in the height of summer, Koushi Sugawara visited without fail every Saturday morning.

The other Sister had managed to reach the door before any out of control children had beaten her to it. You made it down the last couple of stairs, balancing one child and using your other hand to form a weak barrier between the children and their favourite person to prevent a stampede of miniature feet. Sister Kiyoko swung only one of the doors open, stepping aside to let Sugawara enter.

"They're excited to see you," Kiyoko laughed, gesturing over to you trying to hold back the tide of toddlers. The older children were more sensibly waiting behind you, hands behind their backs and shy smiles plastered on their face.

"I can see that," He laughed, looking at you and smiling. He shrugged off his satchel and held it aloft, one hand on his hip. The smile splitting his face was heart melting, pure, unfiltered happiness. He truly just does this because he cares, he walks miles across town to the orphanage on the top of the hill, carrying school books without complaint just to see the children laugh when they can write their own names all by themselves. "You kids ready?"

What little control you had over them vanished as they broke past you and crowded Sugawara like he was giving them food for the first time in their life. He was crouched in the throng of small, excited bodies grabbing at him for attention. Kiyoko had her work cut out for her as she tried to shepherd thirty-something small children into the common room. Suga stood up from patting one of the youngest girls on the head and turned to you.

"You'd think they'd get used to me showing up by now." He chuckled, straightening his shirt out from where it had been tugged by tiny hands.

"They're not used to someone showing up all the time, usually it's a one time visit. The fact you showed up more than once is special to them." You replied, brushing some dust from his shoulder. He startled a little at the proximity, and you take a step back out of instinct.

"Sorry! Force of habit around children!" You nervously laughed and laced your hands behind your back in case you tried fixing his tie or something else equally as stupid. He just blushes at you and goes to open his mouth a couple of times and you stood there in front of each other, looking everywhere aside from the other's face. He rubbed the back of his head and tipped his face to stare at the ceiling. With another awkward laugh, he pointed his thumb towards the other room.

"I should... get going."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't let me keep you."

He turned and headed towards the room as he cleared his throat, moving a little robotically. When he had closed the door to the common room behind him, you let out an extended groan of exasperation, dragging your hands down your face. You turned and headed along the corridor towards the kitchen. Yachi was already in there, blonde hair tied back with a bonnet and apron secured over her uniform dress. She was already starting on lunch, making sure everything would be on time. You swung the door open, taking an apron and bonnet from the hooks on the back of the door. You continue making groans of embarrassment as you tie the apron behind you and lean against the counter dramatically.

"What did you do this time?" Yachi asks, not even turning away from the stove to look at you.

"I started fixing his clothes like he was one of the children." You grumble, picking up one of the dirty plates and dropping it into the sink. A few splashes of soap suds sprayed into the air and splattered across the front of your apron. Yachi burst into giggles, immediately ceasing stirring the pot of stew.

"It's not funny." You argue, rolling your sleeves up and staring into the murky sink water. It was starting to go cold already.

"It's hilarious. You're hopeless."

"I'm just going to hope he forgets by next week. I'll be hiding in here until he leaves."

"That's a great plan," Yachi giggled, placing the lid on the pot and pushing you out of the way of the sink.

"You're not helping." You mumble, letting her take over the washing up.

"Just- I don't know. Ask him to dinner or something."

"No. I'd rather fall into the ocean with rocks in my pockets."

"Hopeless."  Yachi reiterates as she scrubs the dirty plates and places them on the rack to air dry.

You had stayed true to your word, hiding in the kitchen in an attempt to not run into Suga before he left again for another week. Yachi abandoned you with the instruction of 'If you're hiding at least be useful about it' and went to change the bedding in the children's rooms for washing. So you did, you thoroughly organised the food in the pantry, tossing empty sacks of flour and potatoes into a crate to be returned to the market on the next food trip. You swept the floors and replenished the candles in the dark store room. You even stacked all the dry plates ready for lunch to be served.

As you were untying your apron, about to take it to the wash room to remove the dirt and food stains from the front of it, the door opened a crack. You turned around, expecting a hungry child to be peeking in to check how long food would be until it was on the table and in their bellies.

It wasn't any of the children.

"I thought I'd just come say goodbye, I'm heading out now." Suga smiled, leaning against the doorframe and hooking one hand into his belt-loops.

"Thanks for coming, see you next week Sugawara." You smile, knotting your fingers together underneath the folded apron in your hands.

"Yeah, ah... I'll see you next week then." He replies as he turns and closes the door to the kitchen behind him. You can hear from outside the door the shouts of the children saying goodbye and Kiyoko closing the main door after he had left.

In the silence that followed the children scurrying off to entertain themselves, you only had one thought running through your mind. Yachi snitched on you.

SPRING

Suga dropped his bag behind his desk, yawning in the early hours of the Monday morning silence. It was still cold in his classroom, the lingering chill of winter was still yet to melt away. By mid afternoon the sky was pleasantly warm, but on mornings that creeping cold still worked it's way into your bones. He made his way around opening the curtains to allow the waning streetlights and bright morning sun inside. As the warm yellow light filtered it's way through, he noticed something unusual about his desk. Something was waiting there for him, a small envelope was sitting on the corner of the table beside his empty mug. The mail carriers usually left all the general mail for the school in the staff room, but this one was addressed directly to Koushi Sugawara - there was no mistake about that. The cursive that spelled his name out seemed gentle and sloping, not the neatest writing in the world, but certainly not done by a novice. A hand written cursive letter, addressed directly to him, waiting on the end of his desk at first light. Odd.

He leaned against his desk, letting the wooden edge dig into the backs of his thighs as he peeled open the wax seal on the front of the envelope and fanned out the sheets of paper inside.

Dear Sugawara,

My time in your company is rare and fleeting, not unlike snow in springtime. But also akin to snow in springtime, it leaves a lasting impression on my senses that I find I cannot forget even if I were to try. It is a passing beauty that cannot be eclipsed by any other spectacle.

If I were to indulge my greed I would ask you dinner to savour the brief slices of your time, but I am too craven in nature. For now, I shall continue to bask in those passing fancies of your smiles that I find myself hoping to get a glimpse of each time we meet.

His immediate thought was that it was some form of elaborate prank, something one of his coworkers thought was undoubtedly hilarious. It was probably the work of the sports teachers Tanaka or Nishinoya messing with him for the nth time this week alone.

But the more he read, the more he realised that it probably wasn't a joke - after all the two of them had shocking handwriting, they could never write in cursive so delicate as this. And he certainly couldn't picture either of them writing a love letter this well put together. The wax seal was straight from the post office, so it was mailed here, not just left by someone he worked with. The only problem? There was no name on the letter. It was signed off as 'Sincerely, your secret admirer,'  with the only hint of a return address being Box 12, central post.

That meant someone had gone to the effort of setting up a mail collection box at the office in the middle of the city, just in the hope of a reply coming. He was the object of desire for someone out there, someone he must have met before on many occasions. Unfortunately for Sugawara, that did not help narrow down the suspects as he was frequently in contact with many people. The mothers who picked their children up at the end of every day; the local baker and butcher on the narrow lane opposite his small house; the stall owners in the market, particularly the lithe little woman who ran the fruit stall; the demure violinist who had recently set up his daily busking spot outside the café Sugawara frequented on weekends... there were simply too many people for him to narrow it down accurately. Not to mention all the people he didn't see on a daily basis or those who he couldn't quite recall straight away. He could always write back, but he didn't believe his secret admirer would give away their identity so easily when they'd already gone to such lengths to hide it in the first place.

He stands, leaning against his desk for a long while, completely lost in thought. He is snapped out of his blank staring by the door opening to his left. The first few children begin to walk inside, some accompanied by their older siblings or parents.

"Mornin' Mr. Sugawara." Mumbles one of the children, and he puts his smile on his face and folds the letter neatly on his desk. As much as he wants to sit there and dissect who could be behind the letter, he has a job to do. Tonight, when he goes home, he knows he will sit and contemplate the letter for hours but for now, he will teach his children.

//

By the time Sugawara arrives at the orphanage on Saturday, the spring chill had dissipated and left the world in a nice state of temperate calm. The sky is bright and blue, with only faint wisps of clouds passing overhead. The breeze is weak but persistent, and the sun is hot but not too hot. It is a beautiful, clear day.

The children are, as usual, overjoyed to see him. The spring was clearly having a good effect on their moods too, as there are no frustrated tears when the toddlers can't quite grasp writing the alphabet. There are decidedly fewer childish squabbles over who exactly the red pencil belonged to, all in all, it was a thoroughly relaxed atmosphere. Suga decided that after his last few days of angry pondering towards the letter, that this was a good breakaway from his frustrations.

As he was packing his satchel to leave, sipping away at a cup of herbal tea you'd made him, the children vanished like mischievous shadows to the garden before they were called back to see him off.  

"Can I ask you something?" Suga says, looking up from his drink. You sat opposite each other in the kitchen, taking small mouthfuls of the steaming tea in the mugs separating you. You wondered if his hands would be warm from the mug if you were to gently reach over the table to hold them.

"You just did." You laughed, lifting your tea with one hand and resting your chin in the other. He smiles and looks down at his hands encircling his own drink. "But go ahead, I'm all ears. It's the least I owe you after all you've done for the kids."

"So, say if you were given a love letter..." He begins, blushing down at his hands. He's aware of how awkward this topic may be, and he needs to choose his words carefully. "... but you don't know who it's from, what would you do?" He asks

"I'm afraid I've never had anybody write me a love letter," You laugh nervously, "I haven't ever written one either." You add, and if he looks close enough he thinks he can see a soft sadness in your face.

"...I've never had anything like this happen to me before either, it's not my forte." He admits with a shy smile. "I just received this letter the other day, saying someone saw me as 'snow in springtime,' and I haven't stopped thinking about it. I guess, well- I don't know really..."

"'Snow in springtime,'... that sounds rather beautiful. Whoever it is, they think highly of you. Did they leave any hints in the letter?"

"Nothing that stood out to me." He sighs with a shake of his head. "I'm starting to think I'm being foolish and it's all some elaborate prank. I guess I was hoping for it to be something..."

"Well, the easiest way to tell if it really is a prank is surely to write back to them?" You cock your head to the side, holding the weight of it up with a hand propped on an elbow. You watch as Suga's fingers idly intertwine with each other, wondering what it would be like if they were twined with your fingers instead.

"... Perhaps so." He finally looks back up at you, a sort of sad fondness passing across his face. "Thank you for the advice... and the tea, and everything." He punctuates this with a wave of his hand, regarding your seated form in his sweeping hand gesture.

You smile and dismiss him with a wave of your hand in reply. "No need to thank me."

"I need to be on my way. I have a friend to meet."

"Thank you for coming, you know we all appreciate it. Send your friend my regards."

"I will," He says, smiling at you one last time as he shuts the kitchen door behind him.

//

Daichi sits in front of Suga, a freshly made pastry sitting on his plate still leaking wisps of steam into the air. Suga absently picked at his own lunch, occasionally swirling some tea around in his mouth. He found himself frowning into the cup, thinking it did not taste as nice as the cup you made for him not even two hours prior.

Suga spent his Saturday mornings at your orphanage, and then he would meet Daichi for lunch without fail at the little café a few streets away from the city centre. It was well tucked away, down a nice side street surrounded by the high walls of houses all around. The inner sanctum of the café spilled out onto a small courtyard, surrounded on all sides by the next lane of houses. It formed a nice little alcove, vines and ivy climbing greedily up the high walls and the small herb garden spilling leaves onto the cobbles below. It was only large enough to fit a handful of tables, and Suga found that he and Daichi frequented the one in the furthest corner where they were sheltered by a small wooden overhang. The sun would spill through over the high walls and bathe the entire little sanctuary in a soft golden light.

"So, what's got you in such a mood?" Daichi asks, taking a large mouthful of his drink and settling it down onto the table. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair expectantly.

"...Noth-"

Daichi silenced Suga by holding his hand out. "Save it. Something is up, you've been moping around since we got here."

Suga huffed, taking another swig of the tea that wasn't quite as good as yours was, and levelled his stare at Daichi. "I got a love letter."

"Who from?" Daichi leaned forward, a grin breaking out over his face at the news. "And why don't you seem happy about it?"

"It didn't say who it was from. Just that they're my secret admirer or something like that. The return address is just one of those boxes in the post office. It doesn't have a name with it anywhere."

"Ah, well I can see why that's bothering you so." Daichi hummed in response. "Are you going to reply?"

"I think I might, I just don't know what to say. I've never written a love letter before." Suga admitted. "And I don't even know if I like the person, so how can I write to someone as if I love them when that might not be true?"

"Well, don't write as if you love them." Daichi stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He took a bite out of his still-oven-warm pastry and looked over the table at his friend. "Write as if you want to get to know them, which I presume, you do."

"...I do."

"Good, then just... write as if you're getting to know them. From their perspective, they don't have to play games figuring out who they're talking to so they're free to send as many loved-up and cryptic letters as they please."

"And if I don't like the person when I find out who it is?" Suga asks, frowning.

"...Then tell them, and stop writing them letters. It's no different as if you were asking someone to dinner, only you have to guess who you're talking to first."

//

Suga found that no matter how many different drafts of the same letter he wrote, it all boiled down to the same core sentence: who are you?

He figured he needed to write something a little more... elegant than simply asking who the person was, so he spent many a frustrating hour behind his desk in his home study scrawling out phrases onto scrap paper until he deemed them worthy of being in his carefully constructed letter. He was not calling it a love letter. Sugawara did not believe you could write a love letter to someone you didn't know the name of, he did not think you could begin to love someone without knowing their identity.

So to him, it was simply a letter. A frustrating letter, but a letter nonetheless. Nothing more, nothing less.

And so, eventually, he sent it.

SUMMER

Summer in your city was pleasantly warm, not the kind of blistering hot that made it almost as if there was no air left in the world to breathe. There were the occasional days where the heat became unbearable, but they were few and far between. So on lovely weekend mornings like this, of course the children were taking advantage of having such a spacious garden bordering on a small copse of trees on the top of a hill. It was pretty much as if it were a heaven-sent sanctuary made for only them.

Suga strode out of the back door of the large house, standing on the stone steps leading down to the grassy haven before him. Directly in front of him, he watched as the youngest Sister, Yachi, and one of the older children held out a skipping rope between them. There was a small group of children taking turns hopping into the centre, showing off some fancy footwork and then hopping right back out again. The rest of them had vanished into the small thicket of trees at the end of the garden, playing some form of tag where the rules seemed to change every time one of the children was caught. He placed his hands on his hips and looked down at you, seated on the steps, reading a letter.

"Good morning." He smiled, sitting next to you on the step, staring out at the children playing.

Startled, you snapped out of your concentration and clutched your letter to your chest with one hand. The other settled on the space between the two of you, stablising you while you nervously giggled at his sudden appearance.

"Sorry if I startled you," He grinned, turning to look at you briefly. The breeze knocked a few strands of deep-steel hair across his eyes.

"I didn't hear you coming," You admitted. "Usually the children would be a giveaway for you showing up."

"I see my charm has finally worn off on them, I am boring once more," He joked, turning back to look at them.

You blushed a little, almost melting in an attempt to hide your letter against yourself. Gathering what little composure you could, you replied: "It seems you're not quite as exciting as playing tag."

"Perhaps," He shrugged. "So, reading anything interesting?"

"Oh- just a letter from my parents. I haven't had a chance to visit home in a while." You lie, folding the letter up neatly and tucking it into the waistband of your light skirt, swapped out from your heavy winter dresses.

"That's nice quality paper, the market near my house sells something very similar actually." He nodded absently, resting his head in one cupped hand, elbow leaning on his knee.

"They have good taste, I assume?"

"I'm no expert, perhaps the fancy auto-memory dolls would have a better opinion on it than I do."

"I can't say I've ever used their services," You admitted.

"Ah, me neither. Perks of being a teacher mean at least I can write a half decent letter if I put myself to it." He answered, closing his eyes and relaxing in the sun. You were overcome with the thought that he was capable of writing some very beautiful letters, and you knew from experience. You did not voice this thought aloud.

"Maybe you can take today off from teaching the kids, they seem to be enjoying the sun too much to come inside any time soon." You changed the topic swiftly, avoiding eye contact.

He hummed to himself in response, a mild baritone that wasn't quite so deep as to be intimidating but soft enough to comfort you. "That sounds rather nice actually."

"Mr. Sugawara!" Cried one of the children, finally noticing him. A few stopped in their tracks to look over at him. "Play tag with us!" The kid added in response, and every child dropped their current game and went sprinting towards the small gathering of trees.

"Be careful!" Called Yachi, but she found she was being dragged away towards the trees too, pulled into their game without being able to protest.

"Seems they have the same idea," He laughed, placing both his hands on his knees and standing up. He offered you one of his slender hands and lifted you from the step without any effort at all. The breeze passed through and swept your sunhat from it's place atop your head, swooping low towards the ground a few feet away. Sugawara bent down, a long arm gracefully sweeping it from the grass in one fluid motion. Emboldened by a surge of courage, he gently placed it back on your head, smoothing your hair down underneath the brim. He went so far as to tuck a wild piece behind your ear.

He did not lower his hand from beside your cheek. You broke eye contact for a second, completely at a loss as to what to do. What if you completely misread the situation? What if you push him away and he never shows up here again? Unlikely, very unlikely, but possible.

The breeze was pulling at his shirt, a loose white swathe of fabric wrapped around him to gather at the waist. It reminded you of the shirts the sailors often wore around the docks, large sleeves and a swooping neckline that depending on the angle could show generous amounts of chest beneath. It seemed very fitting for a warm summer day like today. You found yourself staring at his collarbones intently, watching the gentle rise and fall of them as he breathed for a small millennia, but was actually a second or two.

His hand hovered around your face, gently ghosting over the skin and you fought yourself to not lean your head to the side and let him completely cradle your face in his large hand.

"Careful," He whispered, almost as if speaking at a normal volume would shatter whatever was hanging in the air between you, as if you yourself would vanish from his eyesight if he disturbed the quiet too much.

"Thank you, Sugawara." You replied, making yourself look back up at him.

"Koushi." He corrected, this time directly against the cusp of your ear as he threaded the strand he previously tucked there around his fingers.

"Thank you, Koushi."

He felt your lips move against his throat, entirely too close now to draw back.

"So soft." He murmured, dipping his head to graze the side of your neck with his nose. You were about to reply when he slammed into you, his weight suddenly jolting forward. One of his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, settling between your shoulder blades to steady you. Confused, you looked up at him as he staggered one step forward, but then turned around. Looking down, he grinned at the toddler clinging to his calf.

"You're it!" The child yelled, liberally giggling as they turned to run away.

"Not so fast!" Koushi replied, hand moving to grasp your upper arm while he lunged with the other to sweep the child with his free arm. He caged the toddler around their midsection, pinning it to his chest with his forearm. The child kicked its legs and laughed, squirming to get away while full of protests and pleas to get the man to release him.

"Come on, you." He said, taking a step back from you and letting his hand drop. You felt the loss of his presence keenly, almost as if something huge had just been pulled from you, which, in a way, you guess it had.

"You're it now." He added, placing the child down and watching as it ran off into the trees once more. In the near distance, a small chorus of delighted screaming informed you the other children had been found and were now running desperately.

"I have work to do inside," You admitted. "Stay as long as you like today, though. You can even join us for food if you're not sick of the children by then." You joked.

"Maybe I will." He smiled, turning on his heel and following the child to the bottom of the garden.

That was the first time Sugawara had ever missed his Saturday lunch with Daichi.

//

Daichi Sawamura does not hold grudges. He demands explanations with a curved eyebrow and folded arms, not cracking his demeanor until there was a solid excuse for something. Which is exactly what Koushi found himself on the receiving end of on Sunday afternoon.

Daichi had let Suga inside his house, pointing him quietly in the direction of the dining room while tea was boiled in the kitchen. It allowed Suga ample time to sit there at the table and twine his fingers together nervously. It was almost as if he had done something infinitely more grave than simply miss a lunch date with his long time friend. But for Sugawara, it was somewhat serious. Those he considered close friends all knew very well that Suga was always on time for the things he set out to do, and if he needed to miss an obligation then he would always warn the other party in advance with a detailled explanation as to why. Which is what Daichi was confused about as he set the mugs on the table, taking a relaxed seat directly opposite Koushi.

"So, slipped your mind yesterday?" Daichi prodded, sipping his tea and calmly regarding his nervous friend.

"I... stayed at the orphanage for the afternoon. I didn't plan to but... something came up." Suga admitted, looking down at the wood grain of the table.

"And that something was... what exactly?" He asked with a wave of the hand.

"The girl there, you know the one who-"

"Yes, I know the one. You talk about her enough I remember who she is. What I want to know is what went down that you couldn't warn me you weren't showing up."

"...I almost kissed her." Suga admits, finally looking up from his drink to meet Daichi's eyes. The latter is stunned into silence for a moment, eyes wide as he leans back in his chair, completely frozen in place. Then suddenly, he bursts out laughing. Full, chest-heaving belly laughter filled the room. Daichi slapped a large hand on the table, rattling the mugs as laughter-borne tears spilled from the corners of his eyes.

"I thought it was bad news!" He howled. Suga blushed in shame, gripping his mug in both hands and mumbling an array of curses under his breath.

"I thought something serious had happened to her! Why do you look like it's the end of the world?" Daichi asked, taking in his friend's forlorn features. "I thought you had a thing for the girl?"

"I do, I guess." Suga admitted.

"Then what's so wrong about it? Did she reject you?"

"No- we were interrupted by one of the kids. But I wanted to kiss her, I genuinely did."

"Okay so what's the problem? You feeling guilty you bailed on lunch? Because I won't hold it against you."

Suga went back to staring at the table, shoulders curled forward on himself. "No, not really. But I do still feel kind of bad about it... I just feel guilty about whoever I'm writing letters to." He admitted.

"Why?"

"Well, I still don't know who this person is, but I really enjoy sending letters to them, it feels really good between us," He blushed. "Yet at the same time I have another girl I think I might be in love with. It just feels unfair to have them both and tell neither of them about it."

"...Good point." Sighed Daichi, leaning back in his chair again and folding his arms across his chest.

"I don't know what to do, and I really don't want to make the wrong choice. If I break things off over the letters I can still go back to the orphanage and teach the kids and see her, but at the same time if I do all that and she doesn't even want me then I've thrown something away with whoever is behind the letters."

"I see. So you're stuck going in circles really aren't you?"

Suga nodded. "I feel like I'm losing my damn mind." He added with a groan.

"And still no hints about the secret letter-sender?"

Suga shook his head, still staring downwards. Daichi hummed, rubbing at his chin in thought. Suddenly, Suga lifted his head up, eyes slightly alight.

"Wait... She was reading a letter yesterday when I went to see her..."

"And you think that's proof she's the one you're talking to?" Daichi asked, not even mildly convinced.

Koushi shook his head, "No, that's just circumstantial evidence. But... the paper it was written on. I asked about it, it looked like it was good quality. I was just making conversation, you know? But it did look a lot like the stuff I buy in the square."

"Okay, getting more promising. Did she let you see it? Or say who it was from?"

"I didn't see it but she said it was from her parents."

"Do you know where they live?" Daichi leaned forward against the table.

"Not in this city, I remember her telling me they're a fair distance over the mountains."

"Okay, so it could be a coincidence, but also... it could be your letter and she was lying. The coincidence is a lot more likely, though."

Suga nodded, slumping and leaning his forehead against the table with a frustrated groan, arms splayed around his head.

"But, there is one way to find out." Daichi finally mused, an air of mischief and excitement playing across his face. Koushi lifted his head up almost immediately, intrigued.

"You go ask the guy you get your paper from. See where it's made. If it's imported, then chances are it's a coincidence, but if it's locally made..." He trailed off.

Understanding clicked in Suga's mind, a grin starting to break out: "Then there's a good chance she's the one I'm speaking to."

Daichi nodded in reply, watching his friend spring from the table, thank him for the drink and go running for the front door, plans forming in his mind.

//

The market was open every day of the week, morning until night. The stalls were permanent fixtures, they were sturdily built around a small fountain, creating a neat little thoroughfare in the middle of Koushi's neighbourhood lined with all sorts of wares. Suga balanced his basket against his hip, picking up a bunch of fresh herbs from the old woman he bought his herbal tea from, dropping two small silver coins into her weathered palm. He manoeuvred the basket full of fresh vegetables and a delicately cloth-wrapped piece of lamb around the throng of people, desperate to not drop any of his groceries.

He found himself at the last lane of shops, on the side closest to his street. Most of it was jewellery or clothing, exotic pieces of cloth supposedly imported from the isles off the mainland. He was heading for a specific stall though, the old man with the feathered cap and bright silk shirt. He had a coiled moustache, dark and oiled.

"Welcome back sir, how can I help you today?" The merchant asked, clasping his hands in front of his display of chunky parchment paper, fine duck feather quills and fountain pens. Jars of ink in every colour known to man lined the far side, weighing down the flimsy tissue-like paper used by artists.

"Just getting the essentials," Suga smiled, looking down at the wooden tabletop in front of him. He slipped a jar of kohl black ink into his satchel around his waist and lifted a small stack of plain writing paper.

"Perhaps writing to a lovely lady?" The stall keeper asked, grinning as he wrapped the paper into a small brown bag to keep anything from marring its creamy white surface.

Suga bashfully shook his head in response, pulling some coppers from his trouser pockets. "Just keeping in touch with my parents. It's been a while since I managed to make my way back to the countryside to visit." It wasn't necessarily a lie, at least two of those sheets were going to his parents. The bulk would be going to his hopefully secret-no-longer admirer.

"What a caring son," The man smiled, taking Koushi's coppers and coiling his moustache in thought.

"Say," Began Suga, slipping the paper into his satchel alongside the ink, careful to not crease it as he adjusted the weight of the basket in his hand. "Where is your paper made? I rather enjoy the quality of it."

"A fine eye you have sir!" The shopkeeper laughed heartily, placing his hands on his hips. "This paper is made from locally sourced oak, pulped in a factory not a mile from where we stand. You can only buy it here, no other stall in the world carries this fine paper!"

"Well, I am lucky that I live so close to be able to purchase it regularly, thank you sir." Suga replied, hope burning in his chest. Maybe she was the one he was talking to after all. He turned, about to walk away when the merchant called out to him.

"Wait, a fine gentleman with such good tastes requires a quill worthy of that." A long, speckled brown feather quill laid across the palm of the stall owner. "A gift to you sir, a fellow connoisseur of calligraphy. I hope to see you again."

"Well, this is truly beautiful," Suga commented, taking the feather from the cupped hands offering it out. "Thank you very much, you have my gratitude. Good day." He bowed, conscious of the food balanced in his basket, and turned for home with the feather cupped gently in his palm. It brushed softly against his fingers, and he found himself wondering if you would find it beautiful, too.

"So, I'm not losing my mind after all." Suga sighed to himself, tipping his head back to smile at the warm sun directly overhead.

AUTUMN

The last thing Koushi expected to see on his walk home from work, was you.

He startled as he noticed you weaving through the main road of the city, likely heading in the direction of the orphanage. Your bag swung large and heavy at your waist, settled against your dark skirt. He found himself thinking that he missed seeing you in your summer uniform, now the weather was cooler and you had traded your long cotton skirts and flowing shirts for dark woolen dresses, buttoned all the way up your spine to the base of your skull. He trailed the golden buttons up to your ears, lamenting to himself that the fabric covered that beautiful neck of yours.

You were a few steps in front of him, following the tide of human traffic to the intersection, pausing to avoid the horse drawn carriages heading towards the docks. He was used to seeing you only once a week, that joyous part of his life reserved for the weekends when he would spend Saturdays with your children.

Koushi found himself picking up his pace to catch up to you, deciding that he would rather enjoy a detour across town before retiring for the night.

"Well, fancy seeing you here." He smiled as he appeared at your side. You jumped, still not used to his habit of randomly appearing near you and catching you off guard. You stopped on the corner of the street, leaning against the stone bridge over the river that passed through the centre of the city. Gondolas slowly sailed below you in the calm blue waters, their brightly coloured paints reflecting off the surface of the water and bouncing around the current. Suga stood in front of you, your back to the wall as he provided a small barrier from the tide of civilians passing by.

"I was running errands today." You reply, holding your bag aloft. "Some of the bedding was torn in the wash, we needed to fetch new fabric for the repairs." You explain, lifting the flap of your satchel and showing Suga the material wrapped inside. He ran his fingers over the edge of it, nodding in approval.

"So soft." He whispered, meeting your gaze. You shuddered, recalling the last time he had whispered that to you.

"Oh, there's a new bakery down King's street." You mentioned, rifling around your bag. "And, well, I'm not made of stone. I picked these up as a treat for the kids, thought we could try them as dessert tonight." You blush, showing him a box of chocolates wrapped in brown paper. He chuckles, but notices a letter sticking out from behind the chocolates.

"I reckon they'll love them, what a wonderful idea." He replied. "Your parents again?" He asks, pointing to the letter on display. He had already seen the address on it and his heart almost stopped beating for a second. Box 12, Central post.

"Oh, yes." You reply, a little too quickly. "My cousin is about to be married and they want me to attend the wedding." It wasn't actually a lie, you had received a letter last week from your parents saying exactly that - your cousin was marrying on the 8th of the next month and they wanted you to return for the occasion. You had already agreed, notifying Kiyoko and Yachi that they would have to go without your help for a few days while you made the journey there and back over the mountains in the new steam trains.

He leaned forward, coming closer slowly to allow you space to move away should you wish so.

"What a beautiful bride..." He whispered against your jaw, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. It must have escaped the bun at the nape of your neck. You were overcome with memories of the last time he did that, your mind trying to reconcile the memory from summer with it repeating itself now. He could feel your pulse against his lips as he grazed them over what little exposed neck he could find, and you were left wondering if you even imagined it when he pressed his lips against your jaw for a moment. It was so gentle you weren't fully sure if it had even happened.

To anybody who happened to notice them would only think they were two lovers kissing beneath a streetlamp, watching the boats pass underneath them.

He cleared his throat, quickly correcting his mistake.

"Bridesmaid, what a beautiful bridesmaid you would be." He clarified, a furious blush beginning to break out along his neck as he leaned back from you.

"I'm flattered," You stammer, trying to calm your heart rate from how close he was and the implications of his earlier words. "I'm afraid I need to find a suitable dress for the occasion before then, I don't think my work uniform would be appreciated at a wedding." You smiled, breaking away from your nervousness.

"No, I don't suppose it would be." Suga replied, looking down at your feet as he placed his hands on his belt loops. "Would you allow me to walk you home? I wouldn't feel right letting a lady walk alone at night." He pointed out - looking up to gaze at the slowly darkening sky. That was one downside about autumn, the days seemed to shorten unbelievably quickly to the point where you were in complete darkness by seven o' clock on an evening at the latest.

"Thank you very much," You replied. "I would like that a lot, Koushi."

If you noticed him shiver at the way you said his name, you did not mention it. He took a step away from you, offering his arm out to you as he turns to walk away. You loop your arm through his, your unoccupied hand coming to rest on his bicep as you walked. He kept his free hand in his pocket, nervously tapping his fingers together, clenching and unclenching his fist. You walk quietly, neither of you in any form of rush to get to your destination.

Suga leans his head back and points out constellations in the stars when you are far away from the city lights, standing behind you and holding you by the shoulders. He whispers the names of the stars in your ears and tilts your chin with his thumb to point your gaze in the right direction.

You have to admit, the stars all begin to blur together when you feel his thumb lingering over your lower lip - as many of his touches do - ghosting over the skin as if he didn't want to startle you. As if you were fragile and very precious. Almost as if he loved you, if you dared to think that.  

As much as you hated to admit it, you finally arrived at the double oak doors to the orphanage, the oil lanterns on either side of the door had been glinting at you all the way from the bottom of the hill.

"And this is where we part," Suga sighed, slowly unhooking his arm from yours.

"You can still come inside for dinner, it's not late yet." You offer, neither one of you moving to step away from the other.

"I'd love to, but it's best I get home." He replied, a lazy smile coming unbidden out of nowhere. His palm slid down from your shoulder all the way to your hand, gently taking it in his own. He lifted it, staring intently into your eyes as his fingers curled around yours.

Not looking away, he raised your hand to his lips, kissing each of the knuckles one by one.

"Good night," He whispered, lowering your hand gently and turning back down the path, footsteps crunching behind you.

"Sleep well," You stammer out, and he turns around and walks backwards, making a sweeping bow with his arm that had you blushing. You were thankful for the darkness of the evening to cover it up as you stood there, watching his back vanish over the cusp of the hill. Finally, you turned and went inside, when you could trust that your knees were no longer at risk of buckling.

//

You are exhausted, thoroughly worn out. The children had been running you ragged all day, boundless energy out of seemingly nowhere. Yachi looked as frazzled as you felt, but thankfully Kiyoko was handling it well. It had been raining all day, since before dawn broke grey clouds had drizzled from on high, dampening the entire city. This meant the children had to be indoors more than usual, thirty-something children confined to a smaller space than usual, they seemed to be bouncing off the walls.

"There's something for you downstairs," Kiyoko called at you as she noticed you coming down the stairs. She was carrying a stack of folded bedsheets up the stairs to be sorted into wardrobes and the like. "A letter."

"Thank you," You replied, figuring it was a reply from your parents about your cousin's wedding dates. It was not, you could tell from the writing on the front of the envelope. You'd know that writing anywhere, you had spent so long staring at it spilling over pages that it was practically branded onto the back of your eyelids.

It is the most shy and gentle cursive you've ever witnessed spelling your name out along the front. But it is the contents that sends butterflies racing around your insides.

The most beautiful sound in the world is not a symphony or a melody. It is not the sound of rain nor the crackling of a fireplace. It is not even waves gently crashing on the sand or wind in the trees.

The most beautiful sound in the world is purely your laughter.

Sincerely, with all my love

Koushi Sugawara.

It takes a moment or two to register what you've just read, not fully sure what to make of it. The only thing you can think of is that he knows, he finally realised that it was you behind the letters. You stand there, dumbfounded, holding onto the thick parchment you knew he bought specifically to deliver to you. The paper he'd been sending to you for almost a year already, in sickness and stupour, in happiness and health - he had sent letter after letter. Each one of them filled with words as beautiful as the man that wrote them down.

"Anything interesting?" Yachi asked, regarding your shell-shocked expression.

"...It's from Koushi." You reply, not taking your eyes off the paper in your hands. Yachi perked up at this, leaning over your shoulder to take a glance.

"...Oh my god!" She hissed into your ear, a grin breaking across her face. "He... damn- he wrote this?"

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak, still shellshocked.

"What are you going to do?" She asked, looking up at your face.

"...I have to go. Eat dinner without me." You say, handing her the letter.

"What do I do with this?" Yachi called as she watched you start running towards the main door.

"Put it in my room!" You yelled back, already half out of the door and preparing to slam it shut behind you.

The ground was muddy, completely sodden from endless hours of rain. Your sensible leather work shoes were not made to be running on a regular day, let alone in almost ankle deep mud. You slipped a few times on your way down the hill, never completely overbalancing though. You hiked your skirt up with one hand, lifting it to your mid-shin to prevent it from dragging along the dirty ground.

Rain soaked into your clothes, the thick layers of your dress that were designed to keep out the chill also expertly absorbed the rain landing on it, making it deceptively heavy.

You skidded across a few pieces of cobble when you made it into the city centre, and stood in the middle of the biggest crossroads, trying to remember which way it was to get to the schoolyards. Trusting your sense of direction and trying to recall the way Koushi approached you the other day on his way home from work, you took off running again. Your hair was no longer contained in it's sensible bun at the nape of your neck. The rain had thoroughly soaked it through and it stuck to your forehead.

By the time you finally wind your way through the streets towards the schoolyard, the children were already gone. You'd seen some of them walking away down the road on your way there. You hoped that when you turned up Koushi would still be inside, or at least on his way out too. The fact you hadn't seen him walk past you yet was a good sign, you figured. That was, of course, unless he walked a different way to work in which case you were royally lost.

You stuck with your plan of heading towards the school, you'd come this far already. The sky was almost black, mostly clouds looming overhead, but it was still a sign of how late in the evening it was.

Gasping for breath, you jogged through the gates, taking it as a welcome sign that they were unlocked and there were a few lights still on in several of the windows. Suddenly, you had no idea what you were planning to do- go rushing in and try find him? Wait outside in the rain and hope he hadn't left yet? You hadn't really thought past getting to the school.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Called a familiar voice, drawing your attention towards a figure walking out of the main entrance.

"I got your letter!" You cried over the sound of the rain, running towards him to close the distance across the schoolyard.

"I think you've had many of them already," Suga grinned, taking in your rain-soaked form. Droplets were beginning to settle on his steely hair and were blooming on his shirt and trousers. Before long, his shoulders were completely soaked, his shirt going two-tone where the water settled into the cotton.

"I have," You admitted, looking up at him, not even bothering to shield your face from the rain. You were too soaked for it to make a difference now.

"I'll admit, you did have me for a while. I had no idea who was behind them. If I hadn't seen you with that letter the other day this may have gone on for a decent while longer." Suga smiled, eyelashes heavy with raindrops. "I was afraid I'd get it all wrong, push something that wasn't there, but I see I didn't have to worry."

"...I think I love you." You murmur back, not even sure he can hear you over the rain. "Please kiss me."

He can hear you and does not need to be told twice, he covers the very small distance between you in a stride - maybe two - and has your face already cradled in his hands before your brain can catch up to what is happening around you.

His lips press to yours - god, so fucking soft - without his hesitant ghosting anymore. He pulls you towards his chest, with his intent to kiss you absolutely clear. Your hands meet the sides of his neck, so warm in the cold, cold rain, and his hands plunge to the wrist in your hair like it's a river in the middle of summer. Like he needs to be there, holding deep into your hair with his nose pressed into your cheek as he angles his head around your mouth. Like you're going to fade from in front of him any moment and he needs to write down every inch of your mouth before he forgets.

Your head is tilted back as he leans his body over you, curving his taller frame over yours as if he wants to shield you from the rain. There is no space between you, you are one person at that instant, breathing the same air as each other. He disentangles from your lips for a moment, only to push the neckline of your dress down with his nose and kiss your neck, a hand at the base of your skull curving you backwards under him.

The autumn rain hits your forehead, but you feel warm. His hands are warm, his mouth is warm, his forehead against your jaw is warm. He keeps you afloat in the middle of the rain, nobody else crazy enough to be outside in this weather, not with the sky growing ever dark with night. It is you, and him, and a small form of forever between you.

"Let's get out of the rain," He murmurs against your throat, eyes closed in comfortable bliss.

//

You ran across the town together, giggling like teenagers as you huddles beneath his fine leather jacket. He had done his best to spread it over your heads, in a vain attempt to prevent more rain gathering on the two of you. He slipped on a few cobbles, clearly his work shoes were no more suited to this weather as yours were. You laugh, leaning into his shoulder as close as you can while he drapes his jacket between the two of you.

"It doesn't seem to be working," You comment, swiping a stray raindrop from his soaked hair before it landed on his forehead.

"I suppose not," He laughs back, dropping it from over the two of you and tilting his head back to allow the rain to slide down the column of his throat, gliding over his Adam's apple and into the depths of his cotton shirt.

He winds you between side streets expertly, knowing this side of town better than you could ever dream of. He points out a few specific buildings: a café, a bookstore, the place he got his nice shirts from, he even recommended a butcher to you - apparently they sold wonderful lamb cutlets. Each stop on the brief tour is punctuated liberally with kisses: against the wall of an alleyway, in the middle of the deserted street, under the porch sheltering his front door.

"...And this is where I live. You should come inside to dry off," He comments, looking up at the grey sky overhead. "I might be able to find you an umbrella so you don't have to walk home dripping wet."

"I'd appreciate that," You reply, watching him turn to unlock the door. He hunches over the door handle, keys jangling in his grip as he pushes the door open swiftly to usher you inside. He locks the door behind the two of you, hanging his soaked coat on a hook beside the door.

You take in his house, or what little of it you can see. A narrow entryway leads out into a small living area, bordered by a kitchen with a generous view of the harbor further down the hill. He dropped his work bag on the floor, intending to sort the soaked papers out after he had you settled and drying off.

"Take a seat in there, I'll be one minute." He dashed off upstairs, taking two steps at a time. You shuffle into the living area, trying to not track muddy footprints all over his floor. Rain slammed against the windowpane, a dull thudding of droplets breaking the silence. You once more hike your dress up to your mid-calf in an attempt to stop the damp fabric dragging watery streaks along the wooden floor. You look around, reticent to take a seat on his fabric chairs with wet clothing, so you instead settled for standing in front of the fireplace, staring at one of the paintings hanging over the chimney breast.

"My friend painted that," Koushi piped up, coming back into the room with two large towels. He wraps one around your shoulders and places the other on the low coffee table for a moment. "He's a big designer in the capital,"

"That's amazing," You replied, staring at the oil painting of birds, unable to identify the species. You weren't the best with naming wildlife. Idly, you rubbed your hair with the towel to take away most of the water from it.

"They're crows." He said, as if reading your thoughts. Rolling his damp sleeves up to the elbow, crouching down in front of the fireplace. He tosses a few chunky logs into the stone hearth, chaotically piling them up. A quick scrape and a match was lit, being thrown into the stacked kindling. Slowly, a warm glow began to envelop the room, taking over the darkness of the late evening crawling in. He closed the curtains to the street, finally wrapping the second towel around his own shoulders.

"Would you like to change clothes? I can hang those somewhere to dry." He asks, breaking the silence.

You look down at yourself, heavy woolen clothes beginning to drip onto the floor and a shiver beginning to seep into your bones. "You just... have spare dresses lying in your closet?" You ask with a raised eyebrow. He laughs in response, reaching down to kick his shoes off. You take that as a cue to do the same, thankful to not worry about treading mud all over his wooden floors.

"No, but I figured you wouldn't mind borrowing some trousers while that dries off." He turns away, towel dropping to the floor and leaving him walking around in damp clothes as he heads to find you something to change into.

"Follow me, you can pick something from the laundry."

You follow, keeping your towel wrapped around you as a way to ward off the chill. The fire was beginning to crackle brighter, heat building and seeping into the adjacent rooms, but it was still not warm enough to keep away the damp cold of your clothes. You follow him up the stairs and to the end of the short corridor. He points you towards the last of the three doors on the hallway, saying you could choose anything from the closet and leave your damp clothes outside for him to hang up.

You step inside, clicking the gas lamp on his bedside table. It crackles to life, bringing a yellow glow to the room. Conscious of the light, you dropped your towel and headed to close the curtains. His closet was well stocked, an array of casual clothes heavily outweighing his work attire. Most of it was loose shirts and cotton trousers in plain colours - a wardrobe of grey and white and the occasional dark hue. He even had an emerald silk waistcoat tucked at the very back, which you quickly realised must be his most formal attire and was hardly ever worn. His shoes were lined up neatly in the bottom of the wardrobe, only two pairs of sensible leather shoes and a more robust pair of suede boots you figured must be for casual wearing.

Blindly, you picked out two of the closest items of clothing, steering away from his formalwear.

You were about to run into a slight problem.

"...Koushi?" You call, hoping he hadn't yet gone back downstairs.

Footsteps approach the door from the other side of the hallway, almost as if he had been patiently waiting for you to take your dirty clothes and clean them as soon as possible.

"Is something wrong?" He replied from the other side of the door, leaning close to hear your reply. He had made a point of leaving you alone in there for fear of appearing too comfortable with your new found closeness in your relationship. He certainly didn't want to take anything for granted. Koushi Sugawara was a patient man, after all.

"I need some help," You mumble, skin burning with mortification. "...With my dress."

He may have chuckled gently from the other side of the wooden door, but deep down he was equally as embarrassed as you were. He eased the door open slowly, finding you stood there, still fully dressed.

"The wool- I think it shrunk in the rain." You explained, staring steadfastly at the floorboards in order to not look at Suga for a moment longer than you needed to. "I can't get the buttons open. If you can just open them I can sort the rest of it-" You were hyper aware that you were rambling now, a weak attempt to cover up the awkward silence sliding it's way in between the two of you.

"...No problem. Maybe you shouldn't make your winter uniforms out of wool." He jokes, trying to cover up how flustered he is too. He steps behind you, hands slightly shaking at the idea of unbuttoning every single one of those neat, golden buttons trailing down your spine from the top of your neck.

"I think it was made to be warm, not waterproof," You laugh, pulling your hair out of the way of the neckline of your dress. His slender fingers brush away a few stray strands, pushing them to the front past your neckline.

He hesitates for a moment, and you adjust your weight on the spot, unsure how comfortable he would be doing this. After a short pause - and an audible inhale - he begins to slowly work your buttons free. Your hands hold it up around your neck and chest, not wanting it to suddenly drop from your shoulders. One by one, the buttons pop open. A little bit of tension releases with every button worked open, exposing your back. You think Koushi inhales suddenly, but you aren't sure you're not just projecting and pretending he's as flustered as you are by the whole situation. He works his way down, starting from the base of your skull and ending with the final button on your lower back. Neither of you move for a moment, you keep holding your hair and your dress out of his way, and his hands ghost over your hips. It seems to you that he has returned to his past habit of almost-but-not-quite touching you.

"...All done." He clarifies, but once again, neither of you move. The air is punctuated with the uneasy breathing of two nervous people, two people unsure of how to proceed and what they should do in this situation. It seems to you as if he is going to stay standing there, as unmoving as you are. That is until you feel his breath fanning between your shoulder blades. His lips brush over the slight channel of your spine once the fabric of your dress had been pulled away.

His lips press, heavy and warm, onto your skin. He exhales shakily between your shoulder blades and you sigh, leaning your head back without a second thought. Neither of you had said anything yet. You let him continue, kissing the back of your neck and brushing his lips over the tops of your shoulders. Eventually, there is a slight grazing of his teeth against you skin that makes you jolt in surprise, head snapping up and eyes opening suddenly.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks, barely above a whisper. You feel the words form against your shoulder as his lips stay close to your skin.

"...No, not at all." You admit.

"Good. Do you need help with anything else?" He asks, eyes closed as he leans his forehead against the back of your skull. "Say, for instance, this?" He adds, fingers brushing over your waist and tugging at the tight woolen garment.

"It would be easier with two pairs of hands." You throw back, reaching down to cover one of his hands with your own, fully splayed across your stomach.

"You're right, it would." He sighs, slowly beginning to slide the shoulders of your dress down to your waist, giving you ample time to stop his hands. It all gathers at your hips, a bunch of soaked wool and cotton lining dampening your skin even more, turning it cold and clammy under Koushi's grip. You stay stood in front of him, his chest closing the gap between the two of you by the second. You feel the damp fabric of his shirt just slightly brushing past your back, but as soon as it arrives it is gone.

His hands slide the last of your skirt off, but he does not turn you around. He continues to kiss at your spine, hands not so hard on your waist as to seem as if he is holding you in place. He gives you ample time and space to slide away or tell him that you're uncomfortable. You do not, you let him continue with gentle hands and nothing but shy intent.

"Is this okay?" He asks, face buried into the back of your head, feeling your damp hair brush against his cheeks.

"More than okay," You confirm.

With your consent, he continues, guiding you with one hand to step out of your dress. He does not make you turn around, instead gently taking your hands and letting your hair fall back into place. His hands caress the front of your neck, fingers gently stroking your Adam's apple - you began to realise that all of his touches were gently, with little force behind them. If you didn't know Koushi personally, you would think he was shy - but you knew he was a gentle soul. He found it hard to be forceful in any part of his life. He simply laid back and let the tide take him wherever he was destined to go - but not now. His hands were gentle but consistent. They never left your body. They grazed over your neck, they slid down your side and avoided applying unwanted pressure. To you, it seemed as if he was testing the waters, as if he was dipping his toes in to feel the temperature before proceeding with the rest of his body. Only this was your body, he was tasting what you were comfortable with, only going so far as he himself was also okay with. Secretly, you loved it - being treated as if you were a fine piece of China and would be liable to break at any point, not a piece of mouldable clay that could be used and reshaped whichever way the user decided.

Koushi held you like you were spun gold. He kissed you as if his lips could break you. He spoke as if his voice would send you running.

You had never been treated with such gentle touches, such sensual words or asked so many questions about your emotions. It seemed to you as if he had been waiting for so long and would be willing to wait even longer if you told him to cease his gentle hand movements.

You did not tell him to stop. You loved it. Those hands, so slender - yet so able - stroked the sides of your body as if they had never touched anything before. As if you were the first sensation to cross his mind. Tentatively, you stepped out of the puddled dress around your ankles. You turned (a blush coating your face) to look at Koushi. His face was equally as rosy in the dim lighting, the bridge of his nose and his cheeks lightly dusted pink with the implications of you undressed before him - in his bedroom, no less, and by his hands too!

"You're... beautiful." He whispered.

Gently, you began to unbutton his shirt, seeking his eyes for signs of discomfort. He seemed calm, yet eager beneath your touch. Button by button, his damp shirt came away from his chest and you ran your hands over his cold skin. He still had the evening rain clinging to him like a fine film, dampening his skin and chilling his flesh to the touch. You kept eye contact, making sure he was not uncomfortable, before pushing it fully from his shoulders.

"Tell me if you're uncomfortable, please." Koushi whispered against your mouth, a hand guiding you to follow him a few steps away towards his bed. It was not a fancy bed - it was a plain double piece with cotton sheets. Headboard against the wall, it was not raised on a dais nor concealed by curtains. It was plain and simple, a pure bed for a pure man.

"I trust you," was all you could think to reply, dizzied by the sensation of his mouth against you once more. His lips were soft, almost to the point of you not believing them to be real. They pressed against yours with certainty, a firmness that you hadn't ever experienced before. He wasn't pushy, he was simply grounded - pulling yourself into him as he stepped the final few paces towards his bed and let his knees hit the edge of it.

Your weight pushing against his front overbalanced him, but almost as if he knew it was going to happen he moved one hand from your neck and used it to break his fall onto the bed. He laid there, you sprawled over the top of him - and you were both breathless. It was a whole new world in this place, with Koushi. It was as if it was being built right before your eyes.

His lips moved from your mouth, down your neck, going so far as to trace your fingers and commit each scar, line and bump to memory with his tongue. He rolled you over, pressing your body into the mattress with his own, feverish but not insistent.

You let your hands pull themselves down from his face, fingertips teasing his jaw and eventually finding themselves prying his belt open.

"You don't have to," He whispers against your collarbone, teeth barely digging into your skin as he nips at you.

"Please let me," You whine, plaintive. He doesn't protest, simply letting his hips finally meet yours.

Your damp hair soaks into the pillow, and he wraps his fingers around it, gently twining strands between his slender hands.

"It's so fucking soft," He murmurs into your ear, letting you pull his belt free. "You're just- you're something else," He sighs as he feels your hands push his rain sodden trousers down to his thighs,

"You know what? Fuck the laundry, I'll sort it later," He laughs against your neck, a hand sliding up your inner thigh. He kicks his trousers away, reveling in the feeling of all your skin pushed desperately against all of his skin. It is a warmth Koushi is not used to sharing, unused to the sensation of skin on skin - so close for so long. He pinches a soft piece of flesh between his fingers, almost groaning against your skin at the sensation.

"The laundry can wait," You gasp with a smile, letting him take harsh handfuls of your flesh and gently soothe circles into them with his thumb. His free hand traces your cheekbone, one elbow holding all his weight from you. Before too long, he slides two fingers into you easily, gently easing them and pausing his movements whenever he noticed your jaw clench or your eyebrows knot together in discomfort.

"It's okay, tell me if it hurts." He whispers, kissing your neck and cradling your face. His fingers move, working you to a blinding peak until you're writhing and squirming underneath him, wanton gasps and the occasional cry of approval falling from your mouth. He strokes the inside of your thigh, finally letting go of your face to slide down the bed until his mouth is level with the two fingers pushed inside you.

He kisses you, tongue sliding between his slippery digits and soft lips grazing where you craved him the most. His name falls from your mouth and he smiles wide between your legs, a sense of pride that he was the one doing this to you. When you cry out, a string of non-sensical praise for Koushi while you tangle your fingers into his steel-grey hair, followed by a sharp cry of his name, he curses. His chin is wet with you, his fingers thoroughly soaked, and his body craving you more than anything else on the earth. No drug could get him as high as he was in that moment, your body was just some type of enigma to hm. You were full of little mysteries but he found that he wanted them all. He wanted to know everything he could about you.

Seeking permission from you, he finally builds the courage to sink himself into you. Your hips meet and his heart pauses in it's rhythm for a second or two. The sensation of being fully buried inside you, sharing body and sensation with you, was something that Koushi could not quite reconcile in his mind. It didn't make sense to him how easy you were to put all of your faith in him, that loving, blind trust. His hand stays interlocked with yours as his hips rock into you, a plethora of sounds and expressions that neither of you knew the other could make being called forth. Your cries blend into his gentle moans, a harmony heard nowhere else on the planet.

For a while it is simply the two of you, joined as one person in an entirely different way, crying the other's name as fissures of something unfelt before wash over the two of you. Mouth pressed against mouth, you took in the sounds of the other, letting the moans and the desperate panting be swallowed by the lips of your lover.

His lips finally still against yours, a quiet, choked sound coming from his throat as his hips still between your thighs and his eyes screw shut. He whimpers loudly against the column of your neck, your skin swallowing most of his moans and muffling them as he at last draws himself from you with an oversensitive whine, using the hand he had kept laced with yours to pull you to roll over onto his chest. He lays there, smoothing your hair against the nape of your neck until eventually your chests synchronise in their rises and falls as you catch your breath together.

//

By morning the sky was clear. Your clothes were even dry, despite the fact they had been left in a pile on Koushi's bedroom floor. It was the type of sunny that was fleeting - always the sun dashing behind a cloud or two but never hiding the warmth behind it. A beautiful Friday, or as beautiful as it could get in the middle of autumn.

He is awake when you stir, one arm around your shoulders, stroking patterns onto your bare arm.

"I wish I could stay here all day, but we both have places to be." He whispers, brushing hair from your face.

"...Unfortunately," You admit with a sigh, letting him gently trace his fingers under your jawline.

"Do you want breakfast?" He asks.

You shake your head, "I'll eat when I get back, don't worry about it."

He places a kiss to your temple, sighing in sadness as he finally sits up and extricates his limbs from yours. He pulls himself from the twisted bedsheets, taking in the clothes on the floor in the dim light that was starting to pass through his curtains. You sit up and stretch, wrapping the sheets around yourself as you watch him pull fresh clothes from his wardrobe and begins to dress.

"Don't sit there like that, I'll never get to work on time. It's too tempting to just get right back in bed with you," He smiles, buttoning up a fresh shirt and tucking it into his trousers. He fishes his belt from the trousers you'd stripped from him the night before.

You make a show of getting out of the bed, punctuated with sighs and face pulling at how unhappy you were to have your comfort disturbed while he tosses his dirty clothes into a hamper across the room.

He buttons your dress back up for you, and you smooth down the shoulders of his shirt.

You make your way downstairs together, and slip your shoes on in his doorway.

"I hate to go our separate ways so soon, but knowing you will come back makes leaving less painful," Koushi sighs against your mouth just before you step out of the door, the grey skies showing morning was about to break through and the world would go back to business as usual. The world would not stop to wait for two young lovers, so they had to make spaces for themselves in between - they managed to stitch together stolen moments since time would not stop to let them worship each other.

After that night, the letters were always signed off with your names, no longer bashful and hiding behind the idea of secrecy. There was not enough time for hiding. There was only just enough time for loving, and maybe something else in between. Eventually, there was no need for letters.

You only had to walk into your kitchen and tap Koushi on the shoulder if you needed to tell him something. He only had to wait for you to come home in the evening before he could tell you about his day. You did not have to write letters, you only had to speak.

Because he was right there beside you, and would always stay.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Firstly, I've just been dying to tell you I love your writting x3 it's absolutely fantastic! My favorite is the young liason ones. I think they're just the cutest! Would it be alright if I requested Fortress Maximus and Brainstorm for that? Please take all the time you need, and I hope you have an awesome day! You rock :D

Awww thanks a million!! I do strive to provide the cuteness, and I shall do so here! I'll also link the past Liaison posts for those who haven't read them yet!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: You're Here!

(I've already done Fort Max in part four but I just couldn't help doing him again with a different setup.)

Fortress Maximus

·Stuck in his cell after his "incident", he's unaware of the liaison program when it initially begins, and is thus clueless of what goes on beyond his tiny space in the dark. Amongst the crew, the young humans quickly learn of the ship's considerable history in its short run, including the hostage situation that nearly cost them their beloved psychiatrist. The humans are shocked by the details, but none more so than the news the bot responsible is jailed up in the depths of the ship. All at once, they begin to question such a practice; wasn't this poor bot just acting out of pain? Hasn't his victim recovered and forgiven him? Being told that Fort Max is too dangerous to risk does nothing to dissuade them, and thanks to their youth, the gathered group soon hatches a plan to see something for themselves.

·As one might expect, Fort Max is beyond surprised when he's awoken at night by a number of very tiny visitors to his cell, and is shocked to see that they're all human! Autobot training kicking in, he's immediately concerned for their safety and gets on his knees to encourage them to leave. Lots of these prisoners are dangerous! To top off his shock, the humans say they're not lost and are there for him. They explain the new program with the Lost Light, how they heard his story, and how they're all here now to see him. For an instant Fort Max is speechless, because these tiny humans have just done more for him than the entire Autobot cause ever did. It takes more willpower than he cares to admit not to let his voice crack.

·Despite all of his assurance to the liaisons that what he did was wrong, and that he deserves to face punishment, they hear none of it. Even urging them to leave and stay on the safe parts of the ship go unheeded. They've decided that they like him and don't want him to be lonely. It's incredibly selfish, but he can't bring himself to deny the comfort their company brings him. Every night, with stealth granted by their tiny size, they visit him for as long as they can. Some bring games and entertainment from earth to share with him, and in time he gives up trying to convince them to stop, finding each one of them to be a treasure he just can't give up.

·It's mostly by bad luck they're eventually caught. Ultra Magnus just so happened to be conducting a late night inspection when he came across all the liaisons gathered about the supposedly deadly Fortress Maximus in what appeared to be a slumber party. The former Enforcer had immediately called for back up and demanded the children be released, not backing down when they all made the baffling move to clamor between the cell bars and shield the gigantic Autobot with their tiny frames. No amount of explaining the big bots potential danger could make them leave. Eventually Rung himself had to be summoned to mediate, and at the sight of Fort Max so carefully cradling his friends and begging that any punishment only come to him so they would be spared... The psychiatrist happily declared there was no need for such caution.

·Put on the spot, Ultra Magnus had decided to allow a partial commutation of the bots sentence. Though he's under watch and isn't permitted to have weapons, he's allowed to have his own room and far greater range of the ship, but under supervision. The liaisons accept only after Max does. In no time they're helping him settle into his room, bringing him housewarming gifts, and coming over as often as possible to visit. It almost doesn't feel real to the poor bot. In an almost comical turn of events he's been freed and has gone from loneliness to being surrounded by tiny, loving friends. Even Rung visits from time to time, joining in on the fun and making it clear he holds no ill will towards the big bot for anything that happened. As they all gather for another movie night together, it occurs to him that his painful past has never felt so far away, and for the first time in so long he feels ready for the future.

Brainstorm

·Ever the on the move genius, his curiosity had been piqued the instant he heard humans were going to be on the ship, as a new species is always a fascinating opportunity. He's not all dissapointed by the gaggle of bright eyed youngsters when he finally meets them. Their tour of the ship is quickly guided to his workshop, and in no time he's showing them all the fun ways he's breaking physics or on the cusp of doing so. Pretty soon the rest of the tour is delayed so they can see absolutely everything he's working on. Brainstorm finds their attitude of "science just because" to be monumentally refreshing in the wake of his occasionally stiff crewmembers. Why does he need a reason to experiment on certain things? Sometimes it's fun and invigorating to just invent something because you can!

·As he finds them incredibly motivating and they love helping however he can, he quickly gives each human permission to accompany him as his assistants. With their unique human perspective, he finds himself seeking out ideas that could benefit them directly, whether it's purely for their entertainment or for more practical purposes. Their need for "food" in particular offers a great deal of potential. He's not foolish about it, of course! These little guys are delicate! But if he can make delicious meals that can be stored easily and prepared instantly, why not? Humans need to eat multiple times every single day, why not make it easier and more fun! The hardest part proves to be getting them not to explode...

·The liaisons come to love the incredible energy he brings to every single experiment, and the feeling is mutual. Even if he doesn't understand the references to "Bill Nye" or other such things, he happily allows the humans to take selfies as he works. Spreading the word to their fellows on earth can only help their species catch up, after all. In time though, he starts to socialize with the group outside of his workshop, even bringing them to Swerve's with him to introduce them to all his friends. They stick to him the entire time even though their enthusiasm proves popular with every bot on the ship. Having often struggled to fit in, he finds the feeling of belongings refreshing in ways he never could have anticipated it might be. He'd protect each and every liaison with his life.

·It's quite unexpected when somebot brings up his... stunt, with the briefcase. He'd been so happy for once that his failures had simply... not registered. Thus, he's caught off guard when the humans start asking baffled questions. It's all he can do to mumble an excuse and leave, the confusion in their bright eyes burning into the core of his spark. So many instances of them looking up at him with respect and excitement now seem far more precious, because there's no way they'll ever want to be around him again. Now they know he isn't just the ship's eccentric scientist, and that at his most desperate he tore time and space apart... In hindsight, how could he have allowed himself to forget? He's dangerous, and the liaisons should have been kept distant to begin with... Humans are far too delicate to risk anything happening, and he never would have forgiven himself for allowing harm to come to them.

·Unbeknownst to Brainstorm, the entire group was far from aghast at his actions. If anything, they were heartbroken for his sake. To have been so desperate he'd happily tried to erase himself from existence, in part to save a bot he loved... They want at least to talk to him. Using skills he taught them, they hack past the gridlock on his workshop, and the scientist is shocked by their effort. Before he can say a word they're surrounding him and offering the most effusive of reasurances, particularly regarding how they never want to lose their beloved science bot, and he takes it upon himself to comfort the crying group with a promise he's not going anywhere. In an instant, something becomes incredibly clear to him; these little beings care about him. They don't want him to leave. Trying not to cry himself, he assures the group that he's long since learned his lesson. There's plenty of wonderful things in the present to stick around for.

[echo-three-one]

Chapter 39

The Road So Far

Is this still worth it?

The SEVEN Inch Wound

Gary 'Roach' Sanderson

Task Force 141 Base - Gym

Roach finally got his seal of approval. After weeks of physical therapy and daily check ups, he was now finally fit for battle and he was lucky enough that Nero was still under the radar. He wouldn't want to miss out on the battle he started. He was lucky enough that they were exonerated when Shepherd surrendered, because if they continued to be fugitives, Roach would not have access to appropriate medical attention.

It has been almost a month after the events in Afghanistan and Task Force 141 was already re-established, Samantha and Maxine were housed on a nearby compound where veteran's families lived under the safety of government protection. During his time in the infirmary, Maxine was always there to visit, telling him tales about dreams she recovered as time went by. Roach was glad she was returning to normal and that no matter how her memories came back, her treatment towards him was the same.

"Good to see you back on your feet, my man." Rocket went up to him and did their fist bump, a series of elaborate claps then finished off with finger guns accompanied by their almost realistic attempt at pistol fires.

"Haha. Yeah? I'm glad I'm back." He waved as Rocket pointed at his back. Roach turned to see Maxine, carrying a packed lunch, waiting at the end of the hallway.

"Hey you. Just in time for lunch as always." He smiled, wrapping an arm around her as they made their way to the mess hall.

"Glad to see you smiling and walking about." She says, as her palms ran across his firm chest, tracing the scar that changed his life.

"Yeah, finally passed the damn physical test." He grinned as they sat down at their usual table, the only table which consisted of two tables stuck together to form an eight seater.

The rest of Roach's closest comrades were already there. Alex, guessing what Samantha packed for him. Soap and France arguing which meal choice was best for them and Ghost, who was already halfway through his lunch while the rest of his comrades haven't even started yet.

"Good to have you back, buddy." Ghost greeted with a wide grin on his face, well technically only half of his face was shown.

"Hey man. I sure am glad. How have you been doing?" he joked. They constantly visit him in their free time, so there was actually nothing to catch up on.

"The rest of the squad proceeded to badger Roach with questions about everything they wanted to know. Roach enjoyed the hot seat as the military mess hall felt like the university cafeteria.

"So, any news about Nero?" He finally asked as soon as everyone was done with him. The table felt awfully quiet.

"None." France was the first to speak up. Everyone else nodded and frowned.

"Shit. Guess our only choice is to wait." He added.

"Shepherd didn't have any leads towards Nero. Their last contact was the exchange of blueprints and after that, he was gone." Soap explained the situation.

"The missing persons?" Gary asked.

"Still missing." Alex commented.

"And there are still a few additions every other day as indicated by the FBI and DHS." Ghost added.

"Is interpol still involved?" Roach turned to Ghost.

"They're still after the traces of EMP equipment from the missing persons. Their new lead is that Nero's team is trying out a lethal kind of grenade. One that explodes without damaging property. If he's planning invasion, this is actually a good idea without ruining too much of the invaded country." He replied. Roach nodded at the theory. EMPs only damage mechanical equipment and this was a good call for the bad side.

"I never knew they'd think of this kind of weaponry. I always expected bioweapons being the last of modern warfare." Ghost muttered.

"Well, that was what happened in Verdansk and we stopped it. We could do that again." Alex tried to boost morale.

"Yeah. We'll do whatever it takes." Roach agreed and they continued lunch.

By the time he started training, Roach focused back on his Sniper techniques. His wound may have affected his previous breathing training and it was only inevitable that he'd train it again. He wanted to master the long ranged rifle as it was vital towards his development as a soldier.

"Back on the scope huh." Ghost huffed as they reached their 200 yard mark, by the hill just outside the base.

"Glad you could help me on this one." Roach unzipped the sniper bag and began scouting the area.

"You sure this is your spot?" Ghost asked, using his hand as a visor against the hot afternoon sun.

"Yeah. This fits."

"Suit yourself." He chuckled as Roach snapped every attachment of the rifle, from the bipod stand to the clicker adjustments.

He peeked at the scope and looked at his target. Five small cans standing on top of a log 200 yards away.

"Remember what I told you." Ghost mused as he looked at Roach steadying his breathing.

"Damn." He added as he noticed the change in wind.

"Yeah, damn. I just was about to fire it." Roach muttered as he took another deep breath and began to hold still as his crosshairs adjusted to the shift.

A loud fire echoed across the hills as dust scattered on the ground where Roach fired. He was about a few inches off.

"Great. Do that again but change your adjustments." Ghost said as consolation.

"Yeah got it." He rolled his dial once again and accounted for the wind, easing his breath and fired again. The loud sound once again echoed through the hills, followed by a soft metal can flying away from the log.

"There you go! A clean hit." Ghost congratulated as he tapped Roach's back while he reloaded his sniper and aimed again.

Roach stayed at that spot until it was too dark to continue and Ghost accompanied him until such time. On their way back, Ghost opened up to something that has been bothering him ever since.

"Roach. Do you mind if I say something important?" He asked and it made Roach stop on his tracks.

"Yeah. What's up." Roach asked.

"I've already sent my formal letter, but I just wanted you to have a heads up on the matter." Formal letter. Roach's heart started to pound as his mind automatically thought of him quitting or leaving.

"Letter about?" he asked. His mouth almost felt dry. He didn't want him to leave. Not again.

"Transferring department. Alexandra offered me a spot on the Interpol. I told you this first because I knew that if you were on my shoes, you'd go too, right? Do whatever makes you happy?" he said, quoting Roach's famous words.

He isn't wrong about doing what makes him happy, but his decision didn't feel right either, or maybe because he just doesn't want Ghost to go.

"Well, you bet I'd go for that option too!" Roach said, trying to validate his decision despite not wanting it. It was sad to see him go, but for the first time in ages, Ghost actually acknowledged the term happy.

"I knew you'd understand." he smiled and continued their trail back to the base where Roach remained quiet until they reached the base just in time for dinner.

After dinner, Roach opted for a night jog around the base to clear his mind off of Ghost leaving. After the second lap, he soon noticed Alex catching up to him.

"Wonderful weather for an evening run, huh?" He asked all cheery as he's quite used to his heavier and more realistic leg.

"Yeah. It is. Good to see you're liking Samantha's surprise." Gary nodded and removed his earphones.

"You know, it's really a surprise when I'm the only one who doesn't know about it." He commented.

"It feels like a real leg, actually. The wonders of modern technology never ceases to amaze me." He mused as they both took the turn.

"Yeah? That's good to hear. Pretty sure Samantha loved the way you thanked her." Roach teased as Alex chuckled, like he recalled some memory.

"Oh yeah, she did." Alex nodded suggestively, the kind that Roach didn't want to ask anymore.

"This your last lap?" Roach asked as Alex slowed down for his cooldown, turning to the set of exercise bars.

"Yep. See ya!" He waved as he started his cooldown.

Gary took three more laps just to make sure he's exhausted for the night, so that once he got in his bed, no more thoughts would assault his mind, hindering him from sleep.

There was only one way out of it. And it was accepting Ghost's inevitable departure from the 141.

The next morning, the 141 was briefed on a possible lead on Nero. This time, Ghost wasn't in the room and that meant that his letter was now approved.

"Okay lads. We've received word on a supply drop activity from Nero. We intercepted an unencrypted call signal to an abandoned port just off the coast of Sierra Leone, Africa. If intel is correct, we're going to be dealing with someone who goes by 'Volt', Nero's bomb maker." Price paced in front of the huge screen showing details regarding their mission.

"Volt is a high value individual who must not be killed. He's our only hope towards Nero. The intercepted call came from the USA, and it's quite impossible that Nero is here, so he must've used a secure line. Jack will be staying in the base as our new Operations Command as suggested by Laswell. Overlord will continue his role as our commanding officer as well." Price added making clear about the jurisdiction.

"Damp and dry Africa." Soap muttered.

"Have you been there?" France asked.

"Only in Egypt. My mom used to tag me along her trips." he replied.

"Recon suggests a high chance of militia activity, so our standard rules of engagement; treat anyone as hostile. Volt's compound will be surrounded by his own personal army and they're willing to shoot any unwanted visitors. He also has access to a port, so I'm sending the Charlie team to stand by the shore and make sure they're not planning an escape." he added.

"I'm leading the Alpha team and our task is to infiltrate his base and secure Volt for intel. Bravo team, led by Alex, will act as our support when things go south. As bonus, we need to destroy any trace of bomb making equipment.

Roach, I want you to man our new air support tools from above as soon as we confirm that there are no SAMs on his base." He shot his glare on Roach and he nodded. Guess he isn't on the ground tomorrow.

"We leave tomorrow at 0300. Make your necessary preparations especially on our brand new comms equipment. Ones that are immune to EMP blasts. Dismissed." He said as everyone got up and went on their way. Gary purposefully left himself behind so he could ask Price about the Ghost situation.

"Hey there lad. You feeling good?" Price approached as soon as he noticed Roach.

"I just have a question about the mission."

"Sure. What about it? Any suggestions?"

"No no. The plan is fine. Where will Ghost be?" Price gave him a worried stare.

"Ah. Didn't he tell you about his transfer?" He crossed his arms and stared at Roach.

"He did… but why did you allow it?"

"Well, it certainly looked like he was happy to go there. And I had no power over his commendations." Price reasoned as they walked out of the briefing room.

"Oh. I thought he was going to have one last mission with us." Roach smiled as he walked back to the room. Ghost wasn't a fan of goodbyes. Maybe because he knew they'll meet again.

0300H

Sierra Leone, Africa

"This is Hunter One-One requesting sitrep, over." Roach phoned his allies who were already on the ground for support. This mission was their vital lead towards Nero. He wished that the guy Volt was here so that they could finally finish the war before everyone else gets hurt.

Before he could man the air support, he needed to confirm that there were no SAMs present on their base so he could safely provide suppressing fire from above.

Next Chapter : The SIXth Ship

Notification Squad my Beloved

@whimsywispsblog @ricinbach @bumblingbee1 @smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 11

Horse On First

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Last time, our heroes made contact with the Deathseekers, and opted to accompany them back to Barley to take care of some unfinished business. While the high-level adventurers take care of the dragon, the party goes to deliver a book and pick up some clothes from the tailor. No drama here, probably!

In the morning, the party is woken by a visitor to the inn. Looseleaf... acquires a new bit of background thanks to an excellent History roll.

The maid is here to retrieve the party, as the Deathseekers are about to set out. One thing that's somewhat surprising is that the deathseekers aren't riding giraffes, like normal people- they're riding these weird, hulked-out short-necked hornless giraffes that- and there must be some mistake here- are apparently called "whoreses"? It's weird. The best their Nature rolls can get is that they sort of resemble an exotic striped creature called a "zebra", maybe.

Lady Greatholder is there, with two of her maids- one of whom is an elf, who's staring at Oyobi in undisguised horror. To non-elven eyes, Oyobi might look normal, dressed sort of sporty, even- but to an elf's keen sense of propriety, she might as well be wearing an ahegao t-shirt and hammer pants.

Traveling conversation is light.

Looseleaf: "What are these things, anyways? They look like recolored zebras." Benedict I. (GM): You must've misheard something, because Doon says "What, you've never seen a whores before?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...pardon me?" Looseleaf: "Is this- this is a pun, right? Like, I'm supposed to ask why you call them whores, and you'll answer, 'because we're riding them'? Is that the joke?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: Oh, god, this is an elaborate gaslighting prank. They are going to try to convince Saelhen to call this thing a whore, and then they will laugh, and she cannot even blame them, because that would be hilarious if she did it, probably. Benedict I. (GM): "Is there something wrong with the whoreses, ma'am?" the human girl asks. Looseleaf: "No, like, you're calling these animals whores, and despite the fact that I wasn't allowed to look at those magazines when I was younger, I'm relatively sure that the Common word 'whore' refers to a lady of ill repute of a brothel- I'm making this worse, aren't I." "I didn't learn the wrong word did I. Oh gods I totally learned the wrong word didn't I. The books that taught me Common were messing with me weren't they." Benedict I. (GM): Lady Greatholder and Doon absolutely lose their shit, as does Oyobi, who's been grinning ear to ear this whole time. Kevin speaks up. "Ah, no, it's- H-O-R-S-E. Hor-suh." "They're from up north." Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen covers her faint smile (read: shit-eating grin). "How novel." Looseleaf: Looseleaf emits a quiet buzzing sound not unlike the sound previously emitted by John Human. This is moth for 'quiet screaming'.

The party doesn't really withhold any details about Arnie and the tower- they just make an appeal for Arnie to be treated with as much mercy as they can muster. Doon implies that he was in a similar place when Lady Greatholder found him, so she reluctantly agrees to stay the hand of JUSTICE.

On arriving in Barley, the Deathseekers go over their plan, in the broad strokes: they're going to post up in the tower, and lay a trap for the dragon using Arnie as bait. By Arnie's reckoning, it'll take a little over a week before the dragon's next visit, so the party has some time to kill in town.

Their first order of business is to visit Chitch, a local lizardfolk farmer who was kidnapped by Lumiere:

Chitch seems surprised that they didn't get kidnapped or tortured- and even more surprised when they claim to have information on his missing daughter's whereabouts.

They hand him CHOSS BOOK, the diary of the girl who was raised in Lumiere's tower as his apprentice. He starts reading it, and his tears of joyful disbelief turn to anger as he reads through the contents- which describe an evil torture wizard raising his daughter as his own, and using her as a test subject.

When he's about halfway through, he puts it down, grabs his pitchfork, and starts strapping on his armor- intent on heading for the tower to kill Lumiere. The party has to hastily explain the situation and exhort him to finish reading the diary, please- Lumiere is already dead, and Choss is safe in Wheat.

Chitch thanks them for the information, and presents them with a reward- apparently, before fleeing to Barley to settle down with his infant daughter, he was a lieutenant commander in the fleet of one Umidono Kaiden, an elven naval commander attempting to take control of the lawless Cutthroat Isles. He gives them his jeweled badge, which could sell for a decent chunk of cash or potentially be useful if they ever need to deal with Kaiden in the future. Orluthe is the one to pocket it, as the rest of the party hems and haws over accepting such a gift.

SNext, they head to visit Kensa Kanthalga to pick up Saelhen's torn kimono- and after a lot of paranoid second-guessing re: heading directly for the Kanthalga house via the grass, go through the Temple of Diamode in front of it first, to update Malath on the situation.

They find her continuing to train the town militia in spearwork, in preparation for what she assumes is an impending assault from Wheat.

They... do not mention Arnie, because mentioning the culprit is Arnie could potentially fan the flames with Wheat. Instead, they mention that the murder weapon was found there, as was evidence of a dragon. Malath seems skeptical that a dragon would stealthily kill with a tiny weapon, and somewhat perturbed that Deathseekers are in town, but agrees to notify the town that the Deathseekers are at the tower handling the dragon issue, so no one does anything dangerous like going over there.

(Incidentally, Vayen has vanished, and Looseleaf's bugged medical kit has indicated that he's gone over to the tower. Hm.)

So, they pass through the temple and visit Kensa in her home. Kensa answers the door, wearing...

...ah.

See, Kensa assumed that after they went to the torture tower and didn't come back for several days, that they were dead or torture-enslaved- and like, the dead or torture-enslaved don't need a stylish kimono, right?

So she is suitably mortified when Saelhen shows up at her door, not dead in the slightest.

Benedict I. (GM): Kensa's down pretty quick, wearing the pink dress from before (if somewhat more disheveled), holding a folded kimono. To her credit, it looks very well-repaired- you can't even tell it was damaged. "I- my apologies! Here you are, ma'am!" Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen takes it. "While I have you here, would you like to hear a secret about this dress?" Kensa Kanthalga: "I- er, of course! Thank you!" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "When I was of an age comparable to yours..." She leans in conspiratorially. "I hated this thing. I fell down in it in front of a ballroom full of people and I very honestly wanted to take a scissor to it." Kensa Kanthalga: "N-no way...!" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "I keep it because it was a gift and because I sometimes need it. But if it gives you pleasure to wear it, then it is accomplishing far more with you than it ever did for me." Kensa Kanthalga: Her eyes widen. "R-really?!" Saelhen du Fishercrown:"I do still need it, to be clear. I, ah, don't mean to get your hopes up." Kensa Kanthalga: "...Oh." "No, of course..." You totally got her hopes up. Looseleaf: Not only did you get her hopes up, you even got Looseleaf's hopes up. Saelhen du Fishercrown: To be fair, "prove that elves can be assholes too" is right there on her character sheet.

And as far as payment- Saelhen just implied that Kensa would be allowed to cut out a swatch or two of the silk during repairs, which Kensa immediately jumped on without discussing further payment. Except...

Then Saelhen... gives Kensa some advice.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Now, in your shoes, considering that I might have been still alive, what I would have done was this: cut out squares, maybe handkerchief-sized, here and here. 'One or two,' as I specified." The places Saelhen indicated on the kimono are... not great places for there to be handkerchief-sized holes. They would render it pretty much unwearable. "I didn't ever specify where the swatches should be cut out, true. And so you could certainly chalk up the issue to youthful enthusiasm and indiscretion." "A lady like myself could never do something so crass as ask you to pay for a dress you'd taken time out of your busy schedule to repair, working to the bone over long hours. And I certainly wouldn't have had use for something I couldn't wear or repair myself." Kensa Kanthalga: "I- wh...?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "And so you would have had the swatches -- and, shortly, the entire dress with it." Benedict I. (GM): She is so confused. Is this lady trying to give her advice on how to grift her??? "That's- but that'd be...!" "I couldn't do that!" Looseleaf: oh my god is saelhen trying to recruit an apprentice is THAT what this is, Looseleaf thinks Saelhen du Fishercrown: "You could, dear."

Saelhen is trying to recruit an apprentice conwoman.

Saelhen retreats, at this point- they'll be staying for a week or so! There's time to lay groundwork!

Next time: some downtime in Barley, before the night of the dragon fight and the execution of Saelhen's master plan.