Work Text:
Today, the town plaza bustles with people from far and wide. Mineral Town might be small, a tourist destination overlooked on many traveler's maps, but the plaza has hosted it’s fair share events. Many of them are gems. Ones entertaining enough to garner the attention of others from the nearby islands.
The annual horse races were no exception. People came far and wide just to see the Spring Derby.
“GO STERLING, GO!” Claire shouts above the waves of cheering people, her hands cupped around her mouth to amplify her voice. Gray sits next to her anxiously, bouncing his leg in rapid succession with a ticket clenched in hand.
After working his ass off the entire week, his grandfather, Saibara, allowed Gray to see the horse races. Although, he refused to let him gamble all his money and therefore gave a small medal “allowance” for him to either build up responsibly, or recklessly lose all in one go.
The crowd erupts in a loud cheer as the winner makes it to the finish. Claire’s voice booms loudest of all.
“YES! STERLING!”
Gray punches his knee and curses under his breath.
Ah yes, the joys of the gambling.
The two exit the makeshift stadium as Claire skips on ahead happily with her earnings, ready to cash in for prizes. Gray, lagging right behind her, lightly grabs her by the shoulder, enough to halt her steps and gestures towards his ears.
“Hey. We’re not in the tent anymore. Take em’ off.”
Claire blinks quizzically at him before her face falls pensively, catching the hint. She removed her old pink headphones. The same ones her grandfather got her all those years ago.
At that moment, all the sound since previously muffled comes rushing back in like water out the floodgates.
She cringes, grits her teeth, but bears it. No — this is tolerable. She’s handled with insistent chatter with no pause in the past; distant echoes of cheers, people chewing and gobbling down their festival food. Foot steps. So. Many. Footsteps. It felt like giants were walking about.
It’s overwhelming, horribly so, but not the end of the world.
Claire held tightly onto her headphones, fingers trembling with unease.
No, she won’t ruin his fun. Or anyone’s ever again.
Gray quickly recognizes the distant look in her eyes. Uneasiness, insecurity, feelings he silently related to all too well.
He gives her shoulder a firm pat as she wearily looks up at him.
“Listen, I don’t mind you wearing them. But it’s crowded, I just don’t want us to get split up, that’s all.”
He reassures her, then gestures towards the colorful booths ahead.
“Come on. Let’s get you those prizes and find someplace quiet.”
Gray was someone she ran into frequently at the library, while she was heavily into researching agriculture. They gave each other novel recommendations here and there and talked from time to time. He’s helped her improve and repair her farm tools. They were good friends. He’s one of the few who knows about her sensory issues, because she trusted him the most with the sensitive information.
Claire smiles and walks with him as the setting sun illuminating their silhouettes in a subtle orange glow.
She manages to exchange a few goods while saving some over for the next event. One of them being beautifully crafted brooch. Of course, nothing impressive as the accessories Gray made, but it’ll do.
“Here, for coming with me today.” Before he can decline, she adjusts the jade-colored brooch onto his navy jacket. She grins, cheeky and full of glee. “There! It fits perfectly!”
Gray sighs. “You know I can’t accept this.”
“I don’t see why not — I mean, you’re already wearing it.” She whistles, nonchalant as one could be stretching the truth.
He reaches out to push his hand over her face, eliciting a childish whine from her end. Cute.
“Thanks, I’ll wear it if I ever need to go somewhere remotely nice.” He lets out a dry laugh at how his hand nearly covers all of her face. He jests with her until she smacks his hand away like some pesky little insect.
Maybe he is.
“Let’s head towards the food court. Then find somewhere quiet to eat.”
“Gotcha!” Claire bubbly agrees, and seeing their destination in sight, moves to place her headphones securely over her ears. Gray smiles, hands stuffed in his pockets as the two walk together. She hums a tune just a little too loud. Surprisingly (given his infamous track record for low patience) Gray doesn’t mind one bit. He’s just glad she’s having a fun time. It’s nice to see her so happy and open.
Hell, he might get a pair of sound-proof headphones whenever he works, just to block out his grandfather.
As they near the food stalls, two young men (judging by their attire, most likely from the city) pass by them. Gray, within earshot, manages to catch bits of their conversation.
“Wow, they let short-buses attend these events?”
The other man sniggers, hiding his grin behind his palm.
“What an eyesore. She’s probably faking it and got in for free.”
His ear burns and twitches. What the fuck? Before he realizes it himself, his eyes go several shades darker as he turns his head towards the direction of the belittling voices. The smile left his face the minute those two thought they had the freedom to say shit so vile.
Gray purposefully strays and confronts the two.
Claire smiles as she pats her pink headphones into place. Whenever she wore them, the world felt like less of an overwhelming place. Especially crowded places like this. She can still make out faint tones, subtle sounds, movements, and it’s all in her control.
That’s right, she can handle this.
As she removes a cuff to hear the person at the concession stand, foul words boom in her ears.
“What the fuck?!”
The ground trembles slightly, earth reverberates underneath her feet as she rushes to where she last saw Gray. Immediately, Claire stuffs her headset inside her bag and stares on ahead, mortified at the scene unfolding before her.
A metal trash can rattles and lies knocked on its side. Miscellaneous waste from the day scattered everywhere on the cobblestone pavement. Along with a few specks of blood, much to her horror. She sees Gray towering over the stranger beneath him. She watches helplessly, as the angered blond delivers a firm kick to the man’s sternum. A crack ripples in her ears and she winches, knowing the source of the sound.
“Wh-What the fuck is your problem?!” The man hacks and stumbles up to his knees, his “friend” several feet behind him, trembling like a two-faced coward.
Figures.
“Get up, asshole.”
Violently Gray lifts the man up by the collar and scowls. His leather jacket is clouded with dirt and blood, and to be frank — he doesn’t give a shit. Once prodded back on his feet, Gray shoves the jerk tumbling backward and glares daggers once more. A small crowd starts to gather, but he’s too pissed to care.
“Take it from a former city boy. You can run your damn mouth all you want back home without consequence. But here? We don’t take kindly to that shit.”
“Stop it!”
Claire pleads, tugging Gray back by the arm. Her face is pale, twisted, contorted in rising confusion. Picking fights out of the blue wasn’t like him. Physical ones, at least. Claire didn’t know what happened in those short moments where she was distracted, just trying to order them some food, to get Gray so bent out of shape and beyond fuming. But, she knew one thing very clearly.
She did not like where this was headed.
Not one bit.
Gray, still enraged, ignores her and jerks his arm back to his side. His eyes, usually a calm serene blue, waver intensely, like storm waves ready to swallow and consume rotten sailors at sea.
His voice comes out husky, angered, and dark. He glares straight through the two men.
“Leave.”
The man stands and dusts his leather jacket off with disdain. He spits at the ground, swipes the blood off his nose with his hand.
“Whatever, those races were mediocre anyway.”
Both men leave, Gray doesn’t settle down till they’re both out his line of sight.
Once gone he untightens his fist, knuckles white from the sheer force of his grip, now returning to their normal pinkish color. He hasn’t lost his cool like that in a long time.
Unfortunately, he didn’t punch the clumsy bastard. Gray kicked the trash can towards them, then, startled out of his wits, the one man fell and hit his nose. But man, he should’ve. People like that don't deserve a damn thing in this world.
Gray steadies his breathing, exhales through his nostrils and puts on a calmer face. He turns to Claire, ashamed, and far from triumphant.
“Sorry, Claire. I… I didn’t like what he — “
Without a word she walks by him, right through him, and he feels an unsettling chill rack through his body. Kind as she is, she props the trashcan back into place. Gray watched as she threw all the garbage back in the bin. Her expression is null. Smile absent from her face.
Suddenly, Gray’s stomach tightens in knots he can’t begin to unravel, let some explain. Shit. Was that the wrong call?
“Claire?”
She holds her worn-out headphones in her hand, and hovers them over the bin, ready to toss them aside. Her one comfort.
Gray grabs her by the wrist. Claire flinches, ready to bark back, but all her inner fire dies, seeing the pure desperation on his face.
“Don’t.”
She doesn’t meet his gaze.
“It’s my fault that—”
“No.” He speaks, sternly at that, so that even a knucklehead like her will listen. Catching her wince, he loosens his grip on her wrist.
“I lost my temper. I kicked the bin at him.” For the first time today, his steel gaze softens back into their natural, greyish blue hue. His hand hovers directly over hers.
“You didn’t do anything.”
Reluctantly, Claire relents and holds the headphones near her chest, right by the heart.
“I—I’m sorry, I know it’s early, but can I-I go home?”
No hesitation. “I’ll walk you— ”
“No, it’s okay.” Claire shakes her head, a flash of pain seen in her smile. It hurts him too.
“There’s another race soon, isn’t there? I know you love this event. You still have some money, right? Your luck hasn’t run out yet.”
“Claire...”
Her fingernail taps against his jade brooch, it’s slightly out of place from where it was before, but she’s grateful that it’s free from any scratches, blood, or dirt. At least that isn’t ruined.
“I would’ve been more upset if you ruined this.” Neatly, Claire pins it back into place, subduing his worried gaze with an airy, more sincere smile.
“I promise I’m okay. Besides, I have farm work to attend to. It’s about time I start heading back.”
Gray, still unconvinced, hesitates and thoroughly studies her expression. For starters, she’s obviously not okay as she claims to be. He can tell that much. Clearly rattled from that violent altercation, the one he selfishly caused because of his horrid temper. No wonder his grandfather insists he yields no restraint.
Still, a blacksmith knows when to push his luck, and when not to. He keeps quiet, then runs a hand through his messy blond hair.
“Fine. But you’re coming back here with me in the fall. Got that?” Then, when he wins big time, he’ll return the favor.
“If you’re not banned next year, then sure.”
She jokingly giggles as his face pales.
He… hadn’t thought that ahead. Hell, that might actually happen. “Yeah, right.” He grins, trying to ease up. No, it would all turn out alright. “But no, we’ll go together — ”
“GRAYSON!”
Amongst the thinning crowd that gathered earlier, everyone mostly left, except for one. The worst of his fears came to light. Aside from Claire, there was one another person he didn’t want to witness that event.
He looks over towards Claire, who’s already gone pale as he has.
“...Hey gramps.” He says, casual as one can be caught red-handed.
“What was that? You’re causing trouble again?! I can't leave you alone for a day!”
Before he can open his mouth, for a defense, a snarky rebuttal, Claire steps forward, desperation in her shrill voice.
“Saibara, p-please wait! This isn’t Gray’s fault. This is mine!” She insists. But it's not. “Those guys were m-making fun of me.. And Gray was just trying … trying to p-protect me.”
The last part comes out a tad resentful. Whether at him, or herself, he’s unable to tell.
Saibara’s old wrinkled face is still very much contorted in anger, but it loosens considerably at the sight of Claire. She had that effect on people.
“Oh, Claire dear... ” the old blacksmith shrugs and worriedly picks at the creases on his face. That same judgmental tick that has both agitated Gray, and pushed him past his limits countless times. “With all due respect, Gray’s a grown man. He can’t be doing these things anymore!”
“You weren’t there!” Gray shouts, stepping in front of her.
“I may be old but I saw the whole damn thing, Gray!”
Gray grits his teeth to near dust, and then, all his ambitions crumble to nothing.
“You’re not going next year.”
The light leaves Claire’s eyes.
No.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” He spits back, far from amused, ready to go off the deep end once and for all.
“No, I am not ‘kidding” you, Grayson.” Saibara replies sternly, his old beady eyes locked on him. When his grandfather gets that look on his face, there’s no changing his mind. They both were stubborn, unyielding, and that was the end of it.
“You’ll be working that day and unable to attend. That’s your punishment.”
Saibara meets Claire’s saddened gaze. It’s almost enough to make him reconsider, but not enough. “Claire, dear. I promise, this isn’t to punish you. I may seem harsh, but he’s pulled careless stunts like this before. I’m sure today hurt you too. Which wouldn't have happened if he kept his temper under control.”
Gray sharply clicks his tongue. Like old people are wise and all knowing all the damn time. Still … he had a point, and it sickens Gray to admit that this time Saibara is right.
Claire remains silent, hand glued to the strap of her bag. Still, she soaks in his words and nods as they hold a small conversation. Although upset by the whole thing, she can understand. Saibara reminds Gray that his punishment is effective immediately, and that he should be returning to the shop sooner rather than later.
And with that, Saibara makes his way back to the store. Once out of view, Claire is the first to speak.
“Me and my big fat mouth, huh?” Claire smiles, though looks like she’s ready to bust out crying. It’s a miracle that she doesn’t.
“No, that was just unlucky. He’s always there when I— ” Gray pauses, then curses under his breath with gritted teeth. “Lose my temper.”
He was right.
“Claire, please, let me walk you home.” He tries his hand at the offer again, but it’s all null and void. Claire shakes her head, then turns to face him and musters a smile.
“You have one last race. Win that one.”
“Huh?” Really, she’s still on that?
A small laugh leaves her lips. It’s tired, near lifeless, but regardless she tries to lighten the tense mood. “You can still catch the next one… You can’t go next year so... h-have as much fun here while you can.”
“Claire— ”
“If you really want to make it up to me.” He stops completely at the softness in her voice, locked under her spell and listens without interruption. “Then please, do have some fun for me? I really have to get back to the farm, I’m not lying about that. I left my animals out to graze.”
Gray sighs and for once in his life, concedes to another. “Alright, I’ll see you at the Inn later? He can't "ground" me completely.” He is a grown man, after all.
She giggles honestly this time and nods. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
Gray is gentleman enough to at least walk her towards the entrance. It’s a slow, uneventful walk. Claire insisted that she was feeling better (seemed to look it too) and reminded him that he should hurry if he wanted to place a proper bet in time. As the two part ways and he reaches the betting tent, worry pangs away at his gut.
But he’ll keep his word and win for her.
