Work Text:
“Quite the hog this morning, aren’t we, Axel?” Kyrie observed as they stood in the kitchen to load their plates for breakfast.
“What, because he got more than one pancake?” Caramia butted in.
“I didn’t get enough for dinner last night,” Axel responded as he continued piling food onto his plate, his voice flat.
None of them ate particularly well last night, seeing as Caramia had tried to make meatballs and they turned out as deplorable globs of pure fat. It was one of the more repulsive meals he’d concocted in their time here in the Oz household.
“Suit yourself,” Kyrie scoffed, and he heard Fuka giggle behind him as she began to spoon fruit onto her plate.
“I think you just have a delicate stomach, Kyrie,” Caramia remarked, his expression far too smug for this early in the morning.
“I believe that would be you, Mr. Lion, given the hundred medicines you’re forced to take to remain healthy. I simply prefer not to stuff myself until I can no longer breathe.”
Caramia shook his head as the four of them finally took their seats, the atmosphere of the kitchen rich with a mixture of sweet and savory scents coming from the many dishes sprawled across the counters. It was Sunday, finally a day of rest for them, and Caramia decided to do a special breakfast banquet for everyone this morning to make up for last night’s horrible disaster of a meal. He must’ve awoken early to prepare all of this - a stack of blueberry pancakes, cheese and vegetable omelettes, chopped fruit, freshly baked bread, and delicious sweet rolls. As much as Kyrie liked to criticize his cooking, this was quite the nice surprise.
After a few minutes of silence with everyone enjoying the notably tasty food, Caramia spoke up. “Are you going into town today, Kyrie?” he asked, his mouth full.
Kyrie raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore his boorish table manners. “If I do, I’ll be doing nothing there for your sake. So I suppose you can take that as a no.”
Rolling his eyes, Caramia wiped his face with a napkin. “I wasn’t going to ask you to run errands - just that we need to pay Dr. Robin for the house call we have next week. I have the documents for it written up, I just need to take it to him.”
“Hmm, that sounds more like a job for a subordinate. Axel, perhaps?” Kyrie suggested. Axel snorted as he said this, shaking his head as he continued eating.
“You never let me have him handle anything money-related,” Caramia claimed. “Are you suddenly reversing your position there?”
“Well, we can always subject him to a few dozen lashes if he somehow fails at such a simple task. But I suppose I’d prefer not to take that risk, as amusing as the subsequent punishment may be.”
Caramia sighed. “So is that a yes from you, then?”
“If you’d prefer to think of it in such simple terms, then yes,” Kyrie answered. He’d already planned on visiting town because he wanted to check the shops for a book he desired - another art collection from his preferred author that had been recently published. He was desperate for some more lively reading material, and this work was stated to be the finest yet, so he would be sated once he could finally get his hands on it.
Fuka turned to Kyrie a few moments later. “If you’re going to town today, is it okay if I come with you?” she asked as she began eating her fruit.
She seemed terribly eager. “Hmm… I suppose so. I’d be a fool rejecting a request from a lovely girl such as yourself,” he told her, enjoying how quickly a glowing blush rose to her cheeks.
Shaking his head, Caramia gave a small laugh. “Do you really have to be like that when we’re sitting here trying to eat breakfast, Kyrie?”
“The same goes for lunch and dinner,” Axel chimed in.
“Be like what? A gentleman towards our precious Fuka? I didn’t realize it was a crime to treat our guest with basic geniality,” he defended.
“There’s being cordial, and then there’s being overly flirty. You don’t need to embarrass her in front of Axel and I.”
“It’s okay, I don’t mind it so much,” Fuka happily interjected before he could respond. The others abruptly shifted their gazes to her, appearing taken aback to hear her say that so directly. Kyrie, however, was immensely pleased.
“Well, then. I suppose that resolves our little issue,” he declared, smiling at Fuka. He nearly wanted to kiss her here at the table for her words, but that would most certainly cross her current embarrassment threshold.
Caramia chuckled at their exchange before continuing with his breakfast, though Kyrie sensed a hint of envy in his laughter. It was amusing - he’d been far more accepting of their relationship in recent days, likely due to Fuka’s obvious contentment, so he wasn’t wont to convey feelings of jealousy. Though Kyrie was quite talented when it came to reading people, he still wondered exactly what may be flitting about right now inside Caramia’s strange mind.
Eventually the four of them finished their meal, taking care to clear their dishes before vacating the kitchen. Kyrie swiftly went to his room to retrieve his hat and a clean white pair of gloves, then to the office to snag the necessary paperwork and payment for Dr. Robin. He returned downstairs to find Fuka patiently awaiting him in the foyer.
Approaching her from behind, Kyrie placed his hands on her shoulders, resting his chin on top of her head for a moment. “You seem so eager to depart this morning. Is there something in town you’ve been wanting to see?”
Fuka turned to meet his gaze over her shoulder, her smile wide as she relaxed in her posture. “Not really, I’m just excited to go. It’s always fun to see everything downtown with you.” Her enthusiastic words matched her adorably sincere expression.
“You always flatter me with your remarks, Fuka,” he expressed, smiling back. He moved to her side, feeling her warmth through his gloves as he took her hand into his own. “Let us be off, then. I’ve heard the weather’s being cooperative for our journey today.”
Sunlight beamed upon them as they stepped outside and began down the road to town, their hair fluttering in the gentle breeze. It felt pleasingly tranquil here in this moment, the only sound being that of the occasional pair of doves that flapped overhead. Kyrie quite liked these walks to town at Fuka’s side, as they provided a far more harmonious atmosphere than he was accustomed to amidst the typical family chaos at the mansion. He had the sudden desire to make this a more frequent occurrence, as it certainly brought a sense of relief for both of them.
Fuka spoke up as they neared the iron gate at the edge of town, passing a group of guards on patrol. “After we see the doctor, what shops are we going to visit?”
“I hadn’t yet decided. Do you have a preference for what we visit first?” Kyrie asked as he adjusted his grip on the envelope full of the doctor’s paperwork.
She paused in thought for a second, seemingly unconsciously squeezing his hand. “What about the bookstore?”
“That would be perfect, in fact, as that’s the one place I surely need to check today.” It was pleasing when their interests aligned like this.
“Okay, that sounds good! Since Caramia paid me for some chores I did yesterday, I thought I might check for another couple books like the first one you bought me.”
“Oh? Caramia hadn’t mentioned to me that he’d begun paying you,” Kyrie spoke, intrigued by this.
“Yeah. I guess I wasn’t really doing work before since he was only training me, but now that I can do laundry and dishes and stuff, he insisted on it,” she answered.
“Well, since you’re not officially an Oz household member, you do indeed require reimbursement for any work you complete,” he reminded her.
“Yeah, that’s true. I guess it’s just weird to think about it that way. Since I’m living back with you guys, it almost feels like I’m already part of Oz.”
“Perhaps, but the reality is that you’re still technically a foreign resident to us. As such, there are certain factors unique to Oz citizenship that we’re not at liberty to share with you right now.”
Fuka’s face fell slightly in discouragement, likely dismayed at those words as she had been in the past. And still, Kyrie couldn’t help but smile. “Not to worry, Fuka, as there are plenty of other things I would still like to share with you,” he said as he gave her arm a gentle tug, not bothering to mask his immodest tone.
“Like what?” she questioned, still exceptionally naive and curious as ever.
Kyrie could barely keep himself from snickering. “It’s a secret. If I tell you now, then it won’t be as fun when I show you.”
“Aw, but now you’re just teasing me with it! That’s mean!” she protested.
“As if that would ever dissuade me,” he delivered. He loved how profoundly innocent Fuka was when it came to these matters, and it only made him smile more as they stepped through the gate into town.
The streets were livelier than usual with shoppers enjoying themselves on their day off, the occasional parent rushing through the center of the masses to catch up with their wandering child. The crowd before them resembled an exuberant rainbow - a multitude of vivid colors that swirled about, people carrying equally colorful bags or dining on exotic treats from the vendors, their spirit matched by the wonderfully pleasant weather and the gorgeous blue backdrop of the sky. Though there was plenty of noisy chatter to accompany the scene, Kyrie was quite glad to see the town so bustling with content citizens. It was what they strove to achieve, after all.
Taking care to remain at Fuka’s side, Kyrie led them through the crowd and down a couple of side streets towards Dr. Robin’s. This area was a bit more calm, with the wide rooftops providing a shaded corridor for them to enjoy. Some of the nearby shops had their front windows lined with ivy and other greenery, lacing the air with their sweetness. When they reached the clinic, Kyrie held the door open for Fuka and stepped inside behind her.
Robin was sweeping the floor behind his desk near the clinic entrance, once again not wearing his old mask, his golden hair illuminated in the tiny rays of sunlight that crept through the slats in the blinds. He peered up as they entered, setting his broom aside.
“Well, good morning to both of you. Is there something you need?” he courteously greeted them, moving to stand before his desk.
Kyrie stepped forward. “Yes, there is. I wanted to give you the required paperwork and payment for the house call we requested for next week.” He handed the envelope to Robin. “I assume you are able to perform it at the usual day and time, as listed.”
Opening the envelope, Robin set his payment aside before flipping through the rest of the papers. “I’m afraid I’ll have to do the call on another date, as I currently have a surgery scheduled for that day,” he answered, setting the remaining documents on his desk.
“Is that so? I was under the impression that we were to maintain the usual once monthly call, with the same date and time. It seems I was mistaken.” Kyrie spoke rather flatly, despite the politeness that his words seemed to carry.
“I’m aware of that. However, this patient’s surgery is a necessity and doesn’t exactly allow for rescheduling, unlike the house call.”
“Oh? Well, I suppose if you insist,” he acquiesced, a hint of scorn creeping into his words at how incessant Robin was behaving now.
“I do insist, as this date was carefully selected to allow for adequate preparation for both myself and the patient.” Robin had clearly picked up on Kyrie’s ire, but he appeared to consciously refrain from speaking too harshly, given Fuka’s presence.
“Fine, then let us review and choose a more fitting date,” Kyrie asserted, approaching the desk. This was not how he wished to spend his time today, and yet here he was, having to negotiate for something that was considered standard in their household. Caramia would be hearing about this.
“Alright. Fuka, please do take a seat. We’ll try to be quick about this,” Robin said as he gestured to the row of chairs beside them.
“Okay. Thanks, Dr. Robin,” she replied as she seated herself.
The two of them turned to her in unison at these words, their mouths agape. Fuka looked taken aback with all eyes on her, leaning back in her seat with her gaze meekly peering between them. “…Did I say something wrong?”
“No, just that those words have never left your mouth before,” Kyrie told her.
“Yes, I’ve never heard you call me by my actual name,” Robin added, smiling at her.
“Oh, I didn’t even realize,” she admitted. “It’s just that, with your mask gone, you don’t seem like Dr. Crow to me anymore.”
“She does have a point, Dr. Robin. I don’t believe I’ve seen you wear your mask at all in the past few months.”
He appeared somewhat reluctant to acknowledge this fact. “No, I haven’t worn it in some time. It was quite awhile back that I decided to occasionally unmask myself on Sundays, and in the past few months… well, I suppose I’ve decided I no longer need it.”
There seemed to be a different type of mask that lingered upon his face now, imperceptible to most, one that Robin had devised himself to conceal whatever he currently desired to hide from them in his lacking explanation. Perhaps Fuka didn’t notice it, but Kyrie did. Still, Kyrie didn’t possess enough interest in the doctor’s private affairs to pry, at the moment.
“I see. Well, I suppose it’ll be nice not having an eerie bird-like figure doing all of our exams from now on,” Kyrie stated.
“Yeah, I like seeing you without your mask, Dr. Robin,” Fuka told him. “You have a pretty face, anyway.”
“Oh… thank you, Fuka,” he responded after a pause, probably not accustomed to her being so direct.
Kyrie raised an eyebrow at this as he turned to her again, and yet she seemed perfectly oblivious to his reaction. A pang of jealousy promptly struck at the center of his chest at the notion of hearing her so openly compliment another man. Fuka was indeed an innocent girl, as he’d been thinking to himself during their journey to town, and she likely meant nothing especially flirtatious in her remark towards Robin. Even so, he now felt the urge to physically strike that man for his disgustingly coy response, his fingernails driving into his own skin as enmity seeped into his veins.
Of course, now was not the time to deliver a punch to the household doctor, nor was it the time to send Fuka fleeing in terror. And so he pressed the thoughts from his mind entirely, not wanting to draw more attention to her remark. It would likely worsen the situation, after all.
Begrudgingly moving on, Kyrie and Robin worked to rearrange the house call for Thursday of next week, going through the appropriate documents to amend the listed dates and add their signatures as necessary. His payment was slightly higher this time due to the increased number of guards they’d hired for extra security throughout Oz - not that they didn’t have plenty of tax revenue to cover it. Though it was a good thing he’d double checked Caramia’s calculations, because otherwise they would’ve overpaid the doctor.
As they finished, Kyrie stood upright once more and turned from the desk, while Robin remained seated behind it to file their documents.
“I believe that’s everything. Unless you have any other appointments that could interfere with our schedule once again?” Kyrie jabbed.
Robin squinted up at him, shaking his head just once. “I don’t at the moment, no. But as the town doctor, I never know when I’ll receive an urgent call, so nothing is set in stone.”
“Yes, I’m quite aware. But thank you for the reminder,” he sneered.
Robin looked as though he was growing annoyed at the prodding, so Kyrie decided to cease so they could quickly vacate this clinic. “So, we shall see you at the mansion next week, then?”
“Yes, I’ll be there at noon on Thursday,” Robin tersely agreed.
With that, Kyrie glanced over to Fuka, who stood from her seat. He moved to her side and took her hand into his, not intending for the gesture to be particularly inconspicuous. “Until then, Doctor.”
“It was nice seeing you again, Dr. Robin!” Fuka expressed.
“You, as well, Fuka. Feel free to visit for tea, sometime. I’ll always welcome someone as cheerful as you to my clinic.”
As the two of them exchanged smiles, Kyrie noticed Robin’s eyes questioningly move to their interlocked hands, just as he intended. He looked as though he wanted to inquire about it, but he likely knew that it was not his place to say anything.
“Let’s be on our way, then,” Kyrie said. Opening the clinic door, the two of them stepped outside and back onto the streets, the chatter from the main part of town beginning to spill over to their current area.
Fuka eventually spoke up as they strolled down the street together. “Was Dr. Robin upset about something? He seemed ‘off’ when you guys were talking.”
“Well, I’m certain he’s miffed about my offhand comments related to him missing our originally-scheduled house call. But beyond that, I can’t say for sure. I imagine he doesn’t always have an easy time dealing with his ailing patients, so he may simply be more temperamental than usual due to that.”
“Yeah… I guess it must be hard to constantly be around people who are sick or hurt,” she mused, halfway to herself.
“Indeed. Maintaining morale isn’t easy as a doctor, especially when you witness the death of a patient you’ve worked so hard to save.” Kyrie thought back to the few times that had happened to their solidati, some of them having struggled for days before succumbing to their wounds - all under Robin’s care.
“That sounds awful. Does he have to deal with it a lot?”
“He’s the only doctor around here, so he has to deal with almost every citizen who dies within our town - if not for prior treatment, then at the very least for a potential autopsy,” he told her. “Then he often helps prepare the dead for their funeral.”
“Autopsy?” Fuka questioned, cocking her head at a word that was evidently unbeknownst to her.
Kyrie was hesitant to explain something so morbid in a busy street of merry citizens, so he had them detour down another side street, slightly prolonging their walk, but surely making this conversation less unseemly. He began as they passed through a canopy of small trees planted along the roadside, which almost seemed as though they were meant for moments like this.
“An autopsy is when the doctor examines the body of a patient after they’ve died to determine the cause of death. It usually involves subsequent dissections, if the cause isn’t immediately clear.” As he paused in his explanation, Fuka’s expression fell to one of disquietude.
“So he has to actually cut the person open, even after they’re dead?”
Kyrie nearly failed to suppress his laughter at such a blunt question. “Sometimes, yes. If the cause isn’t apparent and the person’s family wants to know why they died, then Robin must perform the procedure. It’s his responsibility as doctor.”
Fuka fell silent in utter contemplation as they continued on their walk, passing through a middle class residential area now. Some buildings had small patches of garden out front, the occasional flower bed blooming with roses or lilies - a spot of color in their otherwise grim conversation. Not that Kyrie minded at all, as Fuka was right to be curious about matters like these. She spoke again after they passed a couple women who were traveling side-by-side, shopping bags in hand.
“Why would anybody want to do that?” she asked, her voice hushed.
“Become a doctor, you mean?”
“Yes. It seems like so much pain for so little reward.”
“Well, some people simply hold the desire to help others. Robin does so in a very direct manner - aiding citizens when they’re at their worst, ensuring their comfort or survival. To do what he does, you must have a very high tolerance for things that many people consider grotesque.”
“I can imagine. Having to deal with a lot of blood…”
“Among other things,” he added. Fuka looked simultaneously puzzled and disgusted by this, but Kyrie saw no reason to go into detail and further nauseate the poor girl.
Fuka sighed. “I feel bad for him,” she finally said. “He’s had to see so many surgeries and deaths over the years.”
“There’s no need to pity him. He rightfully serves as a doctor in our town, and despite his demeanor at times, he does indeed enjoy his work. There are objectionable aspects in every job, so it’s a matter of ensuring that the good makes up for the bad. And he seems to be of the opinion that it does.”
“Hmm… well, that’s better, but I still feel torn after hearing what he has to go through every day,” she admitted.
“Well, he’s certainly not someone whom I envy, as his profession is not for the faint of heart. But in the end, it’s his duty to our town. Perhaps keeping that in mind will help you to understand his position a little better.”
Fuka merely nodded at his words, appearing deep in thought as they departed the residential area and navigated through a busier set of streets. As annoyed as Kyrie was initially with some of their interactions at Robin’s, he was glad to see Fuka growing more introspective with subjects like this. It meant that they weren’t unnecessarily shielding her from the more negative elements that existed within their society.
They soon reached the center of town after another few minutes of walking, perhaps the liveliest place they’d encountered in their journey thus far. Citizens flocked to and inhabited every corner, while the sounds of their conversing, shop transactions, children playing, and everything in-between spilled into the open air. Vendors galore populated the massive town square, selling everything from glamorous attire to household wares to delectable food. Kyrie didn’t feel particularly starved, but he noticed a couple of his favorite sellers set up and didn’t want to squander this opportunity, as they only appeared here on Sundays. He led Fuka towards the fountain that lay at the center of these vendors so they could gain a better view of everything.
“Well, Fuka, I know this is a bit of a turnaround, but would you like to stop for a small snack? It may be just the thing to lighten the mood after our little talk.” He moved his hand back down so his fingers were entwined with hers, taking pleasure in her warmth once again.
“Ooh, that does sound good. What kind of snack?” She sounded so intrigued over a simple question about food that he couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Whatever you prefer. The red cart at the far left sells fried sweet potatoes, which I’m immensely fond of. We can each get some if you’d like, or you can get something else. There’s plenty to choose from.”
She gazed around at the array of carts. “Well, you always seem to have good taste in food, so I’ll go with your suggestion,” she happily agreed.
Kyrie smiled at her endorsement. “If you keep this up, you may have a taste for cuisine that nearly matches my own,” he commended her.
“I dunno… Does that mean that I’ll have to say I hate Caramia’s cooking?”
“Hm, you may indeed. Though I’ll admit he has a few dishes he’s come to perfect.”
Fuka laughed. “Well, I don’t think I can ever say that. So I’ll always be behind you when it comes to good taste in food.”
“I have no qualms with that, Madame,” he conveyed, tapping at her palm with one of his fingers. “Now, why don’t you take a seat here? I’ll go ahead and grab our food so both of us aren’t stuck waiting there.”
“Okay, sure!” she said with a smile, seating herself at the fountain. Kyrie held her hand for another second before turning to approach the distinct red cart to their left.
There weren’t many people in line by this point, and the vendor, Mr. Masa, looked delighted to see him when he finally approached the window.
“Ah, Mr. Kyrie! I don’t believe I’ve seen you here in the past few weeks. I was almost growing worried.” He was such a jubilant man, the wrinkles on his face becoming more pronounced with his wide grin, his lengthy mustache nearly bouncing with his laughter.
“Indeed, I’ve been rather busy as of late. But I do hope you wouldn’t question my loyalty here after just a few weeks.”
He gave a hearty chuckle. “Not at all, not at all,” he assured him. “So, the usual for you today?”
“Make that two, please. I have a lovely lady with me that I don’t want going hungry, now,” Kyrie informed him.
“Ah, say no more. Let me just get that prepared for you…” He turned to manage some of his kitchen equipment, frying up a batch of sweet potatoes to ensure they were deliciously fresh. Although Kyrie usually wasn’t fond of such exuberant people, Masa had been especially amiable as a seller over the years, so he was glad his business continued to operate quite successfully in their town.
When their food finished in the fryer, Masa gingerly removed it and arranged it in two separate containers, sprinkling salt and a tiny dash of cinnamon atop the potatoes. “Just as you like it, Mr. Kyrie. I hope the two of you enjoy yourselves on this fine day.” He carefully handed each of them to Kyrie over the counter.
“We certainly will, thank you,” he replied. He handed Masa the appropriate sum of money and gave a courteous nod before turning on his heel to return to Fuka.
Her eyes lit up with pure wonder as he approached the fountain with their food in hand, just as he anticipated.
“That smells so yummy!” she exclaimed as he sat down beside her.
“As it should. These are quite the treat.” Setting both portions aside for a moment, Kyrie pulled a single slice of potato from one of the containers. “Here,” he offered her, holding it forward.
Fuka giggled. “Are you feeding it to me?”
“If you’d like. Of course, I can simply eat it myself, if you’re not so inclined,” he suggested.
“No, I’ll gladly take it.” She leaned forward, and Kyrie placed the potato on her tongue as she opened her mouth, one of his fingers brushing over her lips.
“Do you like it?” he inquired, watching her chew.
“Mmm, yes! That’s delicious!”
“Good. I’m glad I haven’t failed you with recommended dishes.” Kyrie handed over one of the containers so Fuka could continue eating, then grabbed his own so he could begin.
“Wait, before you start, you have to let me do the same to you,” she insisted.
“What, let you feed me?”
“Yep! It’s only fair if we both get to do it, right?” She smiled, as if she was hungry to sate his appetite in much the same way.
“Well… I suppose.” Kyrie leaned forward this time, and Fuka gleefully fed him a slice of sweet potato, giggling again as his tongue tickled her fingers.
“Is it as good as you expected?”
“I’d say even better than usual,” he declared, licking his lips of the mixed sweet and salty flavor. “Though maybe that’s me being biased since I have a girl such as yourself quite literally feeding it to me.”
Fuka gave one of her modest laughs at this, her eyes falling to her lap as they could no longer meet Kyrie’s. She always grew adorably flustered at his rather forward compliments, and it was something that tickled his heart every time.
The two of them chatted and watched dozens of citizens come and go as they enjoyed their food, Kyrie thinking back to the first day they visited town together in celebration of her return. What exactly had he felt for her back then? Purely happiness at the notion of her rejoining Oz? He couldn’t recall any particularly romantic musings at first, but perhaps he had merely been suppressing such thoughts to avoid heartbreak. He wondered what Fuka had felt for him during that time, as well. Had she experienced a state of confusion similar to his own after spending more time together, or had she been hiding this fondness for him since her return? He was quite curious to know, though asking right now while they sat in public was certainly not befitting of him. At least for now, he could simply take solace in the fact that they could openly express their mutual feelings.
When they finished eating, both quite satisfied, Kyrie took care to place their empty containers in a nearby bin. “Shall we head to the bookstore, now? It was our original destination, after all,” he said as he gazed around, noticing that this particular side of the fountain was growing crowded with people gathering to eat.
“Sure, I’m excited to see their books again,” Fuka concurred. And so he took her hand again as she stood, leading them from the bustling town square and down a street that was far less mobbed.
They passed a few shoppers before entering an area of town that was encompassed by a small garden, meticulously designed to enliven the area aesthetically while not impeding passersby in the street. Young maple trees stood behind iron fencing on either side, flanked by gorgeous lilac bushes that were currently in bloom, their flowers filling the air with pure sweetness. A rainbow of tulips dotted the ground beneath the trees, while bushes dense with beautiful dayflowers grew at the garden’s edge, their yellow petals standing in sharp contrast to the green of the leaves.
Slowing their pace, Fuka gazed around in awe. “This is beautiful. I don’t know if I've ever been here when everything was in bloom,” she spoke. She approached the fence to get a closer look at the other greenery.
“It’s something I devised a few years ago to add a bit of color to an area that was otherwise comprised of mostly drab stone and wood. Quite popular with some of our citizens, even if the area isn’t especially high-traffic.” Kyrie stood beside her at the fence, pausing to savor the mixture of aromas.
“You designed this? It’s perfect… It’s so soothing to be at the center of it like this.” She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as if to wholly absorb her surroundings.
“Oh? I’m glad you’re so fond of it, then,” he told her. Peering over to one of the bushes, he leaned forward and plucked a bright yellow flower from amongst the leaves, Fuka watching him curiously. “Normally I would note that disturbing the garden is completely forbidden, but I’ll make a single exception in this case.”
She nodded. “I think it’s okay if it’s just one flower. Plus you made it, anyway.”
Kyrie chuckled. “Good point. Now, hold still for a moment.” Fuka seemed confused as he gently ran his hand through her hair a time or two. Still holding the flower, he began to delicately weave its stem through a lock of her golden hair, braiding it as he went to ensure the flower would remain in place. He felt her shiver as his fingertips brushed over her ear repeatedly, smiling at her attempts to conceal her reaction. When he was finished, he carefully adjusted the flower and swept that lock of hair behind her ear.
“There we are. Do you like it?” he asked, directing her to a window at the back of a nearby building so she could see her reflection.
She gazed intently for a few seconds, her face becoming alight with glee. “I love it! Plus the color goes with my hair perfectly.”
“Indeed it does. You look even cuter with a flower complementing your lovely face, I must say,” he delivered, noting her mixed expression of joy and bashfulness. He’d never grow tired of seeing her like this, he thought to himself.
The two of them continued down the street towards their destination shortly afterwards, Kyrie admiring his work within the garden as they walked. Fuka seemed extraordinarily pleased with his gesture, moreso than he expected. It provided him with an idea for a small gift for her as they finally reached the bookstore, the deep green junipers growing before the smooth stone brick storefront bringing him a refreshing sense of familiarity.
They entered the shop together, greeted by the soothing scent of leather bindings and pages upon pages held within, old and new, the shopkeeper giving them a courteous hello from his desk. Fuka wandered off to browse their large collection of fiction, leaving Kyrie to search for the newly published book containing the art collection he desired.
Approaching the relevant section, he scanned the shelves for the title, passing over dozens of other authors and their less favorable works that he didn’t feel particularly inclined to read. But there was no sign of the book he’d been hoping for, amongst the dozens of other art-related works. He double-checked the area to ensure it hadn’t been misplaced alphabetically, but alas, it simply wasn’t there. In fact, there was no trace of any of this author’s work within these shelves, despite the usual stock that this bookstore held. Kyrie felt a certain bitterness churn in his stomach at this, for he’d been awaiting the arrival of this book for what seemed to be years. If it wasn’t here now, how much longer would he have to linger in anticipation?
With Fuka still thumbing through books, Kyrie swallowed his displeasure moved between several shelves to a different section of the shop - a table containing an array of journals, some of them donning rather plain covers, others carrying an abundance of adornments and ornate patterns. Glancing over each of them, he took a closer look at one that held a more earthy undertone, a flower etched at the center with its stem parting to form a braid of vines that bordered the cover. The back was mostly plain, with a small tree containing a similar braid of roots at the bottom corner, and a single tiny bird perched within its branches. Perfectly elegant, yet simple. He flipped through the pages inside - blank, white, and crisp, with a decent weight to them. This one would do just fine.
He discreetly held the journal at his side as he went to the shopkeeper to pay for it, the two of them briefly chatting about the art collection he was searching for. Apparently the book hadn’t yet reached this shop, despite it having been listed on the order for the last shipment they received. Strange, but the shopkeeper insisted he would set the book aside for Kyrie, should he obtain it in the next few weeks. Satisfied with this, Kyrie gave his thanks and finished paying for the journal, placing it inside his overcoat when the transaction was complete.
With that done, Kyrie approached Fuka as she seemed to be skimming through a book, mouthing the occasional word to herself. “Getting a bit carried away with the reading, are we?” he quietly said as he stood at her side.
She turned to meet his gaze, her finger still on the page as if holding her place. “Oh, I was just trying to decide which one I wanted for now. There’s so many good ones.” Lowering her eyes, she seemed to notice his empty hands. “Did you get the book you wanted?”
“Unfortunately they don’t have it here, and the owner has confirmed that they’re unsure when they’ll receive it. So for now, I’m left waiting.”
“Aw, no. Well, are you going to get something else to read in the meantime?”
“No. I don’t particularly care to purchase something else in the meantime, as I’ve been specifically looking for this book. It was my primary reason for visiting town today.”
Fuka only gave a half-nod, turning back to the book she was reading. After flipping through a few more pages, she closed it and held it tightly in her arms. “I’m going to get this one. It’s by the same author as the first one you bought me, so I think it’ll be fun to read.”
“Ah, so you’re developing a taste for this author, are you? I suppose it’s inevitable when you begin reading more,” he spoke, glancing at the cover. It seemed to be some sort of tale about two girls of alarmingly similar appearance. He had to wonder how engaging the story was, although not enough to read it himself.
Nodding at his words, Fuka pulled another book from the shelf and ran her hand over the cover, reading the back of it. Another from the same author, Kyrie noticed. But after seemingly debating the issue, she placed it back on the shelf once more.
“Just one book today? I do hope that Caramia’s paying you fairly and not being a stingy lion, as he’s often wont to do,” he indicated.
“I don’t really know how much I should be making…” she admitted. “But I don’t want to spend all my money at once, in case I want to get something else later.”
“Hm, fair enough.” These days Kyrie wasn’t accustomed to being especially tightfisted with his money, so seeing Fuka do so felt a bit odd.
The two of them approached the desk again, this time for Fuka to pay for her book. The shopkeeper appeared happy to see her making a purchase for herself, remaining patient as she took several moments to count out her coins. Kyrie should’ve expected this, seeing as she’d rarely handled money in the past and had likely done little to practice shop transactions. He hadn’t previously considered incorporating that into her lessons, though perhaps it would be imperative in the near future.
After Fuka received her finely-wrapped book and said her thanks, the two of them left the shop, Kyrie still mildly pained that he was forced to leave without the next chapter in his art collection. He led them down a couple of smaller side streets, silently noting portions of the cobble road that needed to be repaired, until they came out closer to the northern side of town, which was lively as ever.
“Do you mind if we journey home at this point? I’m in need of something a bit more leisurely, after the disappointment at the bookstore,” Kyrie spoke, peering up at the sun in the sky. It was perhaps mid-afternoon, the cloud cover becoming a bit more dense now.
“Hmm, I wouldn’t mind heading home. I can always read my book,” Fuka answered.
“Very well, then. Let’s be on our way,” he said as they started forward. In truth, wanting to unwind at home was only half of it.
Fuka told him about the series she was reading as they proceeded down the northern road towards the mansion. The story followed two girls who led typical separate lives, attending two different schools within a sprawling town - until a chance encounter forced them to confront one another and realize that they were identical in every way, save for the environments in which they were raised. Different families and different friends, and yet they had the same face, the same body, the same personality. Both lost their little finger at age three due to their knife-related curiosity. Both were leaders within their classes. Both were exorbitantly talented when it came to crafting bold-faced lies. And so after recovering from the initial shock of their meeting, they set off to discover the truth behind their existence - what entity could’ve caused this, or, perhaps more importantly, was one of them the “original?”
Kyrie was more intrigued by the tale than he expected, and he could see why Fuka was so invested in it. He wondered if it was partially due to the nature of her own existence, given her relation to Dorothy and the tumultuous series of events they’d endured in the wake of her disappearance. The thought evoked a flicker of sadness, as the wounds that he endured in her absence were still far too tender. And yet he didn’t experience the gut-wrenching agony that he’d once felt plagued with. Perhaps it was because of the genuine happiness that Fuka carried now that she’d returned, which in turn provided Kyrie with a sort of relief in that regard. As a moment of silence settled between them, this string of thoughts brought him an immense sense of gratitude, one that poured through his veins and left him squeezing her hand a little tighter.
After what seemed like merely a quick walk, likely due to Kyrie’s perpetual pondering, they reached the mansion and began crossing the grounds to Fuka’s cabin. The rolling clouds overhead provided a refreshing shade as they passed the garden, the blooming rose bushes leisurely dancing in the breeze, the branches of the surrounding oak trees swaying as if to accompany them. The stroll to her cabin was always such a pleasant one. Fuka appeared mildly confused as they continued forward, however.
“Aren’t we just going back to the mansion? I figured I would read there until dinner,” she said, still keeping by his side.
“We certainly can, but I’d like to show you something first,” Kyrie replied, maintaining his neutral tone to avoid spoiling her surprise. Fuka’s expression became one of interest as he said this, and he wondered if she was becoming better at reading him. Not something especially shocking, given the time they’d spent together and the lessons he’d provided her in the art of deciphering people’s words and actions, though he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
Kyrie had them pause outside her door, momentarily staring at the vibrant yellow flower still perched in her hair, both of them glowing in the stray ray of sunshine that escaped through the cloud cover.
“After seeing how pleased you were with this lovely flower, I wanted to get you something to go with it,” he told her, pulling the book he’d purchased from his coat.
Fuka’s eyes widened as he held it out to her, and she took it into her own hands, running a finger over the fine etchings within the cover. “It’s beautiful…” she spoke, her voice nearly trembling as if in awe, carefully opening the book to flip through the pages. “Is it a journal?”
“It is indeed,” Kyrie answered. “Since the flower will soon begin to wilt, I thought I would show you how to press it within this journal, allowing you to preserve it.”
“Really? So I can keep it forever?”
“Mhm. It can serve as a little reminder of this day for you, or whatever you please.”
Her smile grew brighter than ever. “I love it!” she expressed, closing her eyes and briefly holding the journal to her chest. She then stepped forward and threw her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly with her head nestled against his chest. This was something rare for her, as she usually wasn’t the one initiating affection, and Kyrie felt his heart flutter at the feeling. He squeezed back, snaking his arms around her waist to pull her into a deep embrace, one that matched the sentiment that presently flooded his being. Thinking about it, this was the first gift he’d given her since they’d begun their relationship. He’d certainly bought her food and drink on other occasions, but this was different - something purchased with the sole intention of bringing her happiness. Perhaps that explained the joy he felt in this moment.
As they slowly broke their hug, Kyrie reached up to run a hand through Fuka’s hair, tracing along the braid that held her flower in place. “So, do you want me to show you how to press it?” he asked, gently grazing the flower with his forefinger.
Fuka eagerly nodded. “I didn’t know you could do that. But I like the thought of always being able to keep it with me.”
Kyrie could only smile at such a heartfelt response. “Come, then. I’ll show you before dinner.” And so he opened her door and gestured before him, stepping inside behind her.