Work Text:
When she enters the room, there are two beds. It only makes sense, she thinks: all of the children she knows in the Fukuin House have a roommate or two, she was bound to finally get one of her own eventually. She fidgets on the spot after closing the door behind herself, clenches with her hands the folds of her skirt; it’s unlike anything she’s worn before, even though she does have a few skirts and even a sunday dress of her own: this one is puffier, bigger, not to mention the layers of it and the way it connects to the rest of the dress.
Now that she’s free for the rest of the day, she suddenly feels shy. It’s like all the confusion that enveloped her throughout the day has worn out, revealing the true emotions underneath, the ones that she was too afraid to show in front of Genji-san or Madam Natsuhi, or even Milady Jessica, who she was briefly introduced to as well. She reaches upwards with her hands to take the beret off; she’s never worn anything like this before, truly. It felt unsteady on her head the entire time, a weird, foreign pressure over her ears, like it could slide off at any moment— and yet holding it in place with her hands instead of having them on top of each other in front of her would be considered bad manners, too. She sighs. Then, when she finally makes a heavy step deeper into the room, the other girl finally lets her presence be known.
She appears silently, as to not spook her, and yet so carefully and smoothly that it only makes sense for Yasu that she’s standing right in front of her now, even though she wasn’t there just a moment before. The other girl smiles at her, and immediately Yasu wants to smile back, her teeth out.
“...What’s your name?”
“...U-u, Beato, do you think Sakutaro will grow to be taller than me?”
Maria’s own legs are dangling in the air as she speaks; the chairs Beatrice set up aren’t that tall, but it’s more fun to swing them around if you can, isn’t it? Beato looks over her with amusement, and with even more amusement she looks over the little lion, who turns red at the way Maria spells his thoughts out for him. His mouth opens and closes like he wants to scold her for that but can’t find the strength in his own voice. He sinks into the chair; his tail, dangling in between the ornaments engraved into its back, is swinging very lightly.
He has been growing taller, bit by bit; the illusions of the Golden Land are allowed to grow, if they so wish, especially if they connect it to their minds growing— and Sakutaro has been growing mentally as well, even though Maria has been, too. It will take time, like all things do, but he might just catch up with her one day, if not go further.
“Oh my,” Beato taps her chin, as if thinking the question over. All the while there is a smile on her face, “let’s see…” she gives the boy a good look-over. He gulps. Then she leans back on her chair: “If Sakutaro puts his mind to it and trains both his body and mind, I believe he might indeed.”
“U-u!” Maria seems happy at the confirmation, throwing her hands into the air with a clap. “Did you hear that, Sakutaro?”
“...It’s not that I mind being small like I am now...” he mutters. “But if I was bigger than Maria, it would make me better at protecting her, s-so...” he dips his nose into his teacup, deafening his voice even more. “Uryu-u...”
“Lady Maria, you seem very eager for that to happen as well.” Beato notices. “Would you not feel sad at all if your positions in height suddenly reversed?” she teases. It feels natural that she would be onto something: if it wasn’t for Sakutaro, Maria would, in fact, be the smallest member of the Golden Land. She doesn’t usually seem insecure about her height (she’s well aware that Bernkastel and Lambdadelta, powerful witches with both of whom she’s had first-hand encounters, are just as small as she is, not to mention that Beatrice herself wasn’t gifted with much height either), but she does get enough of teasing comments about her young age sometimes, from Battler in particular, so there’s no telling how it would actually make her feel.
However, Maria leans her head to one of her shoulders, really not seeming to understand what Beato is getting at. She stands up from her chair and walks over to the one Sakutaro is sitting on, hugging him from behind. Sakutaro’s own hands fly up to hold onto her forearms.
“U-u, not at all!” she reassures, firmly. “Of course, I think Sakutaro is perfect the way he is, and he’s easy to hold when he’s smaller.” she squeezes him tighter, as if to prove a point. “But! Sakutaro is Maria’s very best friend, u-u! That means if he wants to grow ve-ery big, like some other lions do, I want it for him too!”
“Maria...”
Beatrice chuckles at her apprentice’s passionate speech.
“Understood. I really shouldn’t have asked. The ties between best friends are indeed the strongest, especially if they are childhood friends.”
“U-u! Did you have childhood friends, Beato?”
Beatrice stops the cup that she has almost brought up to her lips, then takes a sip anyway as she ponders over the girl’s question. It’s a silly one: of course, if anybody was to ask, the first ones to come to mind would be Battler and Jessica, and George — even if all three of them were closer to Shannon at the time, that’s what such a question would imply, coming from anyone else other than Maria. With it being asked by the Witch of Origins, however… She did have toys to play with, until a certain age, but none of them were hers , making it near impossible to create a connection, any sort of a bond tight enough at all. When she was the same age as Maria, when she did need someone to turn to other than Kumasawa-san, well, that would have to be…
She sets the cup back down onto the table with a shaking hand, uncharacteristically, almost spilling the contents, causing the couple of curious eyes that have already been looking at her to exchange looks and get back to her with a silent question, expressed only in a quiet “U-u?” and “Uryuu?”. Beato doesn’t look back at them, instead directing her suddenly saddened gaze into the cup, onto her own reflection in the shaky liquid. When the image stills, she gets up.
“I’m sorry, Sakutaro, Maria, but I must excuse myself.” she says, firmly. “There is somewhere else I have to attend to.”
Maria’s gaze softens after a few more seconds of surprise, and she nods, as if she managed to read right through her. She truly has been growing older, this little girl.
“U-u, it’s okay, Beato. Sakutaro and I will clear the table!”
“Uryu!”
Beato bows to the both of them in a gesture of gratitude before disappearing herself to appear instead in one of the hallways of the mansion.
“I’m Shannon, and what’s your name?”
The girl’s voice is kind, and it rolls smoothly off her tongue, pleasantly ringing inside Sayo’s ears. It only makes sense, she thinks: wherever she went today, everyone has been talking about “Shannon”: Genji-san and Madam Natsuhi, and Milady Jessica as well, when they were introduced to each other. She’s taller, and older than her, like all the other girls she stood in a row with today were— but she looks down at her with warmer eyes and a smile wider than she’s seen the entire week, if not longer. Sayo opens her mouth to say her own name back, before hesitating: the teasing nickname rings in her ears now, said in a snappy voice or accompanied by an eye roll. It makes her shoulders sink uncomfortably now, too, even if no one has actually said it out loud. She shakes her head to make the thoughts go away.
“...Sayo.” she says, quietly. Then a little louder and looking up at Shannon, to make sure that her voice is heard: “My name is Sayo.”
“That’s a beautiful name!” Shannon says, instantly. “Now, Sayo, since we were assigned to live together, let’s do our best together too!”
Sayo giggles at how enthusiastic her face looks, but the spirit reaches her, suddenly making the chores of tomorrow sound less scary and instead even somewhat exciting. She sits up on one of the beds; her legs don’t reach the floor, and she dangles them around in the air for fun.
“Does that make us partners on duty?” she asks. “Us, Sayo and Shannon…”
Shannon taps her chin with a single finger, looking onto the floor timidly. She’s wearing the same dress and the same beret that Sayo was given today, although the entire outfit looks more graceful on her than Sayo could ever hope to look at all, not with her dirtily-pale hair running messily down her back. Shannon comes closer and sits down onto the bed next to her. The soft smile on her face is surrounded by slightly pink cheeks, and she reaches for Sayo’s hand, once she’s sure that the other girl is comfortable with the touch.
“I was thinking more of...” and her smile gets wider: “Sayo and Shannon as… friends.”
Sayo reaches her other hand upwards and back to scratch her neck.
“...That’s what friends do, looking out for each other?” Shannon nods to her question, even though she was just asking herself, and Sayo nods too, firmly. “I would like that, Shannon. Let’s be friends from now on!”
Beato is standing in front of the bedroom door with a look of indecisiveness on her face. She manifested herself in the hallway of purpose, even though she could have gone straight for the room if the situation so demanded— but this situation calls for quite the opposite action than the violation of personal space. Everyone in the Golden Land is equal and everyone is family, but the special respect towards her and Battler still comes as an unspoken rule for the majority, as towards the Territory Lords, the Game Masters, the ones who gathered them all together. Still, Beatrice needs to appear humble right now, to truly show her position as the equal. She knocks on the door two times.
“...Shannon?” she calls, just to make her presence known for sure.
A moment passes, her fist lowered and hanging by her side. There is the sound of someone standing up and then footsteps getting closer, and Beato prepares herself with a deep sigh, although that’s still not quite enough by the time the door opens.
“...Beatrice-sama!” she greets in her usual cheerful voice before noticing that something is off about Beatrice’s own expression. Beato timidly looks her in the eyes: they are on the same level, not requiring either of them to lift or lower their chins, instead their eyes meet like they are each looking in a mirror. Beato used to be so small in comparison, having to look up at her, Shannon having to reach her hand down to stroke her head. They look at each other in silence for a moment: Shannon with surprise and confusion, unable to read her thoughts anymore, and Beato with a guilty determination. She clears her throat, and the words still come out weak.
“...May I come in?”
Shannon nods hurriedly and steps out of the way, Beato muttering a ‘thank you’ as she does. It’s a big room: definitely far more comfortable than the servant room ever was and with a big bed, now that she and George have started living here together. There’s a mystery novel opened on the bedside table with a bookmark between the pages — a hobby they almost got to share.
“I came to apologise to you.” Beato withdraws her fingers before reaching all the way to pick up the book, turns around to where Shannon has just closed the door behind her and says this hurriedly before Shannon can say anything herself. Beato is used to apologising— inside of her own head, at least. Saying them out loud is the same heavy weight of words over her each time, be it Ange she’s apologising to or Jessica or George or Battler, who dismisses her softly-spoken words each time.
“A-apologise?” Shannon echoes. “But Beatrice-sama—”
“We all know that there are a lot of things I owe both you and Kanon, and I’ve tried my best to repay you for your help.” she realises how rude the interruption is, but she’s way too eager to drive the point across to stop herself. She knows Shannon’s heart, still: how soft and kind she has always been and how willing to trust her words. It is important for Beato that Shannon senses the sincerity in her words right now. “...But I also owe you a special apology for abandoning you the night I first became a witch.” and the second time, when the truth was revealed. When all of her needed light and magic more than anything, and yet Beato used her power to mock her instead. “We were supposed to be equals, and allies, but I erased your memories time and time again, forcibly driving us further away from each other.” using their shared memories to her advantage alone: mocking her because she knew in details Shannon’s everyday situation and where she came from and why she can never walk away. She only ever sneered at her, burning up their pain instead of soothing it. “I used you as my plaything and called you furniture, for that I cannot apologise enough.” she averts her eyes, if only for a moment. “...I was a terrible friend, Shannon.”
A few seconds pass, letting Beatrice’s words sink into the room and indicating the end of her speech, before Shannon finally makes a step forward, a look of determination on her face. Beato stays still, waiting, and then she catches a glimpse of the corner of her lip softly curving upwards before she finds herself enveloped with both of Shannon’s arms tightly around her neck, one of her hands finding its way into her hair.
“...Apology accepted.” she hears, uttered softly behind her ear. “Thank you, Beato.”
Beato exhales sharply. Slowly, and uncharacteristically shaking, her own hands find their way around Shannon’s back, loosely falling against the fabric of her dress. She thinks she can feel Shannon’s smile widening at that, and her own face falls into her shoulder in embarrassment.
“...I appreciated your company a lot.” Beato admits in another rambling, filling the silence of the room with her voice.
“...Me too.” Shannon agrees. “You’ve grown well. I’m glad.”
“We both have.”
“That’s true enough. Although you used to be almost half my size. It was very easy to hold you like that.” her voice is teasing.
“My… Could that be true? After a thousand years it’s almost hard to imagine.”
“Yes, it is… I don’t mind though. You look even more beautiful like this, and you shine brighter, Beato.”
Another moment of silence passes, Beatrice not knowing what to say. “...I always enjoyed having tea with you in particular.”
Shannon laughs. “Is that so? I wouldn’t mind hearing more about your preferences in desserts. I’m sure our tastes overlap in quite a few places on that matter.”
Beatrice hums. “Would you like to join me on my next tea party, then? I will send you an invitation… as a friend.”
“I would love that.” Shannon nods against her shoulder. “Although I was thinking more of…” she trails off, following that with a moment of shy laughter. “Beato and Shannon… as sisters.”
The only fitting response that comes to mind is a shy laughter of her own, which Beato does respond with. She lets herself hold onto Shannon a little bit tighter.
“...Sisters…” she rolls the word around on her tongue, echoing. “Yes. I wouldn’t mind that at all.”
