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For as long as she has lived, people tend to get lost in the forest a lot. Only a handful wander in too deep and cross into the fey’s territory though, doomed to stay forever… unless one of the forest’s inhabitants are kind enough to guide them out. Ironically enough, Shinonome Ena, known for her nasty temper amongst her kin, is one of the few fairies willing to help lost humans back to where they came from. She would then fly back home, leaving them to go on their business.
This human is the only one who invited her to come along with them and it’s an unusual — and exciting — occurrence that she readily agreed.
The pink-haired human suddenly collapses onto the grass, breathless and laughing. She shakes her head and helps them up, and it’s the way they grin at her that reminds her; fairies shouldn’t be doing this, fraternizing with humans. Shouldn’t feel whatever it is that’s blooming in her chest at the weight of their warm hand in hers, shouldn’t find comfort in their easy companionship.
But she does, despite it all. She’s already doomed the moment she accepted their offer, so fuck it, she thinks. So far this human is much more interesting company than the snooty fairies she’s stuck with all day.
“Oh man,” they laugh, bracing themself against her shoulder. “that was probably the fastest I’ve ran in ages.”
“I told you not to poke that damn plant.” Ena berates. “You’re lucky nobody saw us making a ruckus.”
“Hey, at least we’re out of there. So,” the human puts their arm around her, gesturing at their now non-magical surroundings with the other. “welcome to the human realm, Miss Fairy! It’s probably not as interesting as your home, though.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. So, where to next, human?”
“Somewhere fun, hopefully,” the human says. “and I do have a name you know. Call me Mizuki!”
“Mizuki,” she says, getting used to the syllables rolling off of her tongue. “Well, you can call me Ena.”
Wait-
“Roger that, Enanan!” before she could even process the fact that they already gave her a nickname, that she gave her true name to them during the first thirty minutes of knowing each other, Mizuki grins and grabs her hand, pulling her along with them. Ena yelps, tripping on a pebble.
“Hey! Slow down, idiot— where are we even going?!”
“I told you, somewhere fun! Trust me!”
She already trusted them with her real name (a spur of the moment thing really, if her father or her brother were here they’d call her careless for it) so what’s trusting them with a little more? But that’s not stopping her from grumbling at them, the duo leaving a trail of chatter and yellow orchids in their wake.
New beginnings, friendship, joy.
Over their meetings, Mizuki tells her a lot about themself — their aversion to hot food, their clever and strange ranger friend, and how their older sister encouraged them to do fashion. Ena tells them what she can about herself as well — her passion for art, complaining to them about her annoying little brother, and her interest in fashion and the like — they have a shared interest! That’s what friends bond over, isn’t it?
It makes her giddy in a way she hasn’t felt before, and she feels it even after she went home, clutching a page full of outfits they sketched together. Her mind is still replaying their discussion, excited even while talking about what most people would consider to be the boring parts.
The things they don’t tell her, she learns simply by being with them: the way they carry themself with carefully crafted pride, the complete disregard for her personal space, and the kindness, the thoughtfulness underneath all the teasing and jokes.
Yeah. She thinks they’re pretty great.
So she wonders, silently wonders to herself: what do they see in me, in what I don’t tell them?
What does Akiyama Mizuki see behind her snappy retorts, behind her forceful personality?
Ena hopes they don’t find her unpleasant, to have her presence be too much to be around. She can take being hated, but this time, it would sting. Because it’s Mizuki. As childish as the sentiment is, she doesn’t want her friend to hate her.
(A silly thing to worry about. If only she truly sees how they look at her— like she hung the stars itself, stars that sparkle in their pink eyes as they excitedly compliment her. Stars that don’t ever leave, even during her roughest moments.
But how could she, how could she possibly see, when she turns away in embarrassment at the attention, when their shine is too much for her to bear?)
Ena sighs, laying on her back in the garden. Why am I even thinking about this? This is dumb. Mizuki wouldn’t do that.
…I really want to talk to them right now.
She doesn’t like being out of her house, being out of the fey realm even more, but she finds that she is starting to like Mizuki’s company enough to get out more often. As she pointedly ignores her brother’s judging stare at her moping form on the grass, white suddenly sprouts on the bush beside her.
Inspiration strikes.
She decides that she’ll give them a gift next time she visits, sitting up and carefully picking the zinnias out of the bush — thoughts of an absent friend — twisting them together into a pretty flower crown for them to wear.
Whenever they cross paths with each other, it’s usually because they planned some of it beforehand. But Ena has made no such plans today, only out for a simple walk.
Then. A voice, rich and powerful, reaches her ears. It’s singing a song, a wonderful song— but it pleads. There is a silent, lonely plea nestled within its bouncy and jaunty tune. It is beautiful as it is haunting. Ena flies to the source, to her friend, she now recognizes, and now she wants to be near, wants to hear more.
She wants to know what expression they wear on their face as they sing.
And there they are.
Ena stops abruptly, her greeting pushed back in her throat as her breath catches.
They’re wearing a simple shirt and skirt, leggings underneath, twirling in the open field of roses as if they’re weightless. Mizuki dances without a care in the world, not doing anything out of the ordinary at all yet Ena finds herself captivated.
She’s never seen them smile this softly, never noticed how hypnotizing it is to see their hair bounce with motion, never heard them sing as if their heart aches with each note.
(She’s never thought so much about how one person’s voice would sound with her own in a duet, heard and sung only by the two of them— until now.)
Ena realizes, as she steps out of the tree’s shade in a daze, that Mizuki has never looked more beautiful to her right now. They notice her arriving and their smile widens, brightening up as they wave her over.
She skips over to them, and if her cheeks are redder than they should be, if her heart beats too fast as Mizuki sweeps her into a loose dance, her palms getting embarrassingly clammy in their grasp, then that’s her secret to keep.
(They dance, her nervousness activating her magic and making them float up, much to Mizuki’s delight. They leave a trail of red as they go, the hue catching onto the tips of the yellow roses beneath their clumsy feet, and another audience grows privy to the fairy’s secret.
Red-tipped yellow roses. Falling into love from friendship.)
Whenever they think she’s not looking, that pained hollow smile is on their face. Her heart seizes. She can’t help in the way she wants to right now, not unless they’re ready to confide in her.
Something’s bothering them, and they’re not telling her anything. If she was the Ena of last month, she would push them, stubbornly trying to help, but she knows better now.
So Ena provides comfort instead, running her fingers through silky hair, styling it for them. She lets them talk about whatever they want, humming here and there and chiming in when necessary. Slowly, Mizuki’s shoulder relaxes, their laughter becoming as bright as it was before.
When Mizuki grins at her gratefully for doing their hair, she can’t help but brush some stray strands away. She conjures a pink flower and tucks it behind their ear. Ena steps away quickly and hands them the mirror.
“So, what do you think? I think I did well enough, even for someone who hasn’t done this hairstyle before."
Mizuki only blinks at the mirror, eyes trained on the azalea.
Take care of yourself for me.
“The flower was a last minute thing,” she says. “just thought that it would suit you.”
Something flickers through those pink eyes, something too quick for her to catch. When they look up at her, their smile is warm and sincere.
“You, uh. You look pretty.” she adds.
They giggle shyly, cheeks glowing in a red blush. “Thank you.” Mizuki says simply, and the emotion in their voice is anything but.
Mizuki is unbelievably evasive when they want to, Ena knows this. With the way they twist and curl around her queries of concern, throwing out a well-placed remark here and there to get her to start bickering with them instead… it’s as if they’re the fey in this situation. Ena recalls a fleeting thought that passed her mind during these moments; Mizuki would fit right in the Courts of her home.
She’s right of course, but it’s a bit of a cruel thought, to subject them to the stifling atmosphere of the fairy court. Mizuki is clever enough to hold their own, she admires that about them, but there are lots of things to keep track of: what not to say, do or act. Unspoken rules and double meanings in everything. They get enough of that in the human realm already.
And another thing— there are other fey who watch outsiders keenly, who take the chance to steal something pretty for themselves.
The thought makes her bristle, makes her blood start to boil.
A familiar emotion swells up in her throat, the kind that urges her to clutch her treasures closer to her chest, to put some sort of brand or ward on them so the glimmer of her magic will let everyone else know not to mess with her human—
Ena smacks herself in the cheek. No, no, bad fairy. Mizuki is a lot of things, but they’re not hers, even if she wanted them to be.
She has their true name, she has the power to change that— but she won’t. She would never do that to them.
(Besides, love achieved through trickery is something only a lesser fey would do.)
Still, even if she is better than them, she is a creature of the Feywild. She loves in the way she knows best, equally selfish and earnest, a whirlwind of intense emotions. Mizuki loves in a way that lets them leave a mark on everyone they meet, their kindness fondly remembered.
A free spirit, living life with eyes wide open— Mizuki is breathtakingly, undeniably human.
They deserve nothing but the best, everything Ena is not, so she’ll try her hardest until she is.
Until she can learn how to love them in the way they truly deserve, she’ll be satisfied with watching her deepest desires bloom into the pretty shades of pink and red, a bouquet of camellias manifesting in her hands.
Longing for you. You’re a flame in my heart.
Ena keeps the bouquet, pushing it onto a perplexed Mizuki’s hands the next time they meet.
“Woah. These are super pretty.” they said, tracing a finger on the pink and red petals. “What’s up with this, Enanan?”
“Magic practice.” she responds, trying to sound normal as she lies right to their face. “I’ve never created this flower before, so I wanted to get the details right.”
“You must’ve been having trouble since you made this many.”
Ena huffs. “They all came out looking wonky to me, ok? I don’t stop unless I get things right, even if it’s just a stupid flower.”
She’s trying very hard not to fidget right now. She hopes they don’t notice the nervous fluttering of her wings. Mizuki only laughs at her, cradling the bouquet carefully to their chest with an amused twinkle to their eyes.
“You worry way too much. They already look perfect to me.”
With a delightful, unpredictable human for a best friend, Ena’s used to being surprised in some way or another. She might even say she’s grown immune to it.
All of her composure is shattered in the feel of soft petals pressed to her hands. Mizuki smiles shyly as she gapes at the bundle of pink and purple hydrangeas and amaryllis.
Thank you for understanding me. Do your best for your art, I know you can do it.
“Huh?” she blinks, staring at them. “What’s this for?”
“I figured you liked expressing yourself through flowers so… I wanted to do the same!”
She sputters, mind going into overdrive. “Wait, wait— you knew flower language this entire time?”
“I don’t actually, but my friend Rui does. Remember him?”
“The ranger who invents extra deadly arrows?”
“Yeah! When I came home with your flower crown he uh,” they look away, putting their hands behind their back. “got interested in where I got them. After that he just started hounding me with what certain flowers mean and stuff.”
Shit. That definitely means that they knew. Ena gulps, preparing for the worst. “So you kn—”
“—So I got you this!”
Another flower is pushed towards her, a lone ambrosia in a tight-knuckled grip.
Your love is reciprocated.
Oh God, this is way too much. She feels like she’s going to faint.
Mizuki laughs breezily, as if the fairy isn’t having an entire internal crisis right in front of them. “That is what you mean, right? Like, those flowers were actually a legit indication of what you fe—”
Ena tucks the bouquet away, and drags them down by the collar, ignoring their squeak of surprise. “Shut the hell up and kiss me.” she hisses.
“Yes ma’am.”