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Autumn always came so late in Hoshido.
Nohr was never particularly sunny, but it did have a summer lasting about a month long, during which the bolder flowers would dare to bud, feeling the slight uptick in temperature. But August would soon come crashing in and turn all the leaves to brown before they fell from branches to be digested by the acidic bogs.
So the early-October stroll down a lightly forested path, where sunlight streamed through leaves only just beginning to yellow, still felt strange. The weather had started to cool to a range Silas felt accustomed to, but the liveliness of a Hoshidan autumn continued to surprise him.
Children were still out playing, there were still frequent festivals and holidays observed across the whole country, the courtyards of Castle Shirasagi were always full of animated discussion among members of the nobility, and brilliant shades of red, orange, and gold seemed to adorn everything.
Leaves had only just begun to fall from the trees a week or so prior, and the castle's staff hadn't quite gotten into the routine of sweeping the paths clean of debris.
Silas really didn't mind, and, feeling a boyish mischief creep into his step, he made a habit of adjusting his strides to hit the crunchiest leaves on the ground. Ryoma, whose fingers were laced with his, noticed the trend almost immediately, and adjusted his pace accordingly.
"You're going to slip if you keep that up, darling."
"The leaves didn't usually last this long in Nohr. The winds dissolved them, or the bogs swallowed them up entirely," Silas defended, eyes still glued to the ground in front of him.
"I know," Ryoma said, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "I just hope you're aware that I will laugh when it happens."
"You'll help me up."
"Once I'm done laughing."
"Bastard!" Silas cried, laughter tinging his own voice as he stomped particularly hard on a berry that had fallen to the ground.
Ryoma could barely contain his grin. "Oh, now you've done it." He kept walking as Silas froze in place, only turning back towards him when he felt the resistance of Silas's arm being stretched to its limits.
"What? What have I done?"
"Smell that?" Ryoma smirked.
An acrid scent suddenly pierced the air around them, bitter and rotten, thick in the way humidity smells thick. Silas grimaced and wrinkled his nose at it.
"You were looking right at the leaves the entire time, and you didn't notice the smaller yellow ones? The shape is unmistakable, Silas."
"What are they?" Silas demanded, stepping away from the scene of the crime and scraping as much of the berry off the bottom of his shoe as he could.
"This whole path is surrounded by ginkgo trees. They're beautiful, particularly this time of year, but they're rather infamous for the way the berries smell when they've been left on the ground more than a few days." Ryoma chuckled. "I can't believe you couldn't smell them when we first got here."
Silas waved at the air with a hand. "It's much harder to smell anything in the biting cold, so my nose has been overstimulated with scent since I got to Hoshido. I've learned not to comment."
Ryoma squeezed Silas's hand and bumped their shoulders together. "Unless you're the one who's gone and caused it, hm?"
Silas snorted, brushing away a leaf that had spiraled its way into Ryoma's hair. "Whatever you say, love."