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"Good, Yushiro," Tamayo says as she closely observes his every move from behind his shoulder, "now, take your product and pour it carefully into the reagent."
He nods. "Yes, Lady Tamayo."
A small test tube of clear fluid in between his finger and thumb, he carefully pours its contents into the tube resting on a rack (also containing what appears to be a colorless liquid), situated on an oak-brown worktop. He notes the equipment in the corner of his left eye, some inches away from the rack – an assortment of flasks and bottles, and what was previously set up to be a distillation apparatus. To the other side of the rack, a Bunsen burner stands below a platform with a glass basin of water.
It's oddly warm in that lab. He detects a whiff of a mixture of chemicals, from the oddly sweet scent of pure alcohol to the obnoxiously eye-watering odor of aqueous ammonia. Despite this, the floral nature of Lady Tamayo’s perfume, since she’s so close to him, manages to just about drown out the aromas currently in the lab.
She extends out her wrist and turns the valve at the bottom of the Bunsen burner, the blue flame disappearing in the blink of an eye. "The hot water bath should be sufficiently warm by now, so you can put the test tube in."
"Lady Tamayo...?"
"Yes?"
"Why don't we just apply the flame directly over the test tube?"
"Because your product is extremely flammable, so exposing it to a naked flame is dangerous."
"R-right... but we're demons, aren’t we? Fire can’t really seriously harm us.”
"Well, yes. But it would still hurt. And I'd like to keep this house as intact as possible."
Shaking his head at the sheer depths of his ignorance, he puts aside his shame and places the glass test tube into the water bath, placing both hands on the table right in front of the Bunsen burner. Lady Tamayo stands beside him and brushes his hands with hers, making him blush but ultimately reminding him to take his hands as far away as possible from such apparatus. Just because they're demons doesn't mean they don't have to make an effort in looking after themselves or the dwellings they live in. He knows that now. How stupid of him!
"Very good," Lady Tamayo says, "now, observe. What do you see?"
"N-nothing? Nothing’s happening." Yushiro replies.
"Wait a few moments."
The time passes, though the definitive moment comes sooner than he was perhaps expecting. His catlike eyes, fixated on the test tube in the see-through water beaker, widen in surprise and amazement at what they eventually see.
"Oh, oh," Yushiro exclaims somewhat giddily, "Lady Tamayo, the test tube's turned silver!"
He widens his mouth in amazement, bearing his fangs, at the sight of the test tube forming a silver mirror within the water bath. He turns his upper torso to look at Lady Tamayo, hoping for some sort of validation. She smiles softly, humming approvingly at his discovery and nods.
She explains. "It's actually quite a new technique. But it's fascinating, isn't it? I’ve heard that some people use this technique to stain their glassware silver, now. This only happened, because that initial product was an aldehyde, so it must have come from a primary alcohol.”
"And that's..." he takes a moment to think, "a-an alcohol where the hydroxy group is attached to only one alkyl group, right?"
"Yes, that's very good. You're learning fast."
Truthfully, a lot of these definitions are somewhat flying over his head. He's just barely managed to understand what a ‘saturated hydrocarbon’ is, after all. Undoubtedly though, the terminology emanates a certain grace when it comes from her lips.
"So, what do we do now?" Yushiro asks, the silver test tube remaining in the outskirts of his vision.
"Well," she answers, "we must dispose of the remaining unreacted reagent as well as your product. If left standing, they can form dangerous, explosive compounds. As I said, I would like to keep this house intact, if that's all right."
"Of course! But how do we do that?"
"We can use this." She reaches across the brown oaken table counter to take an amber glass bottle with a white label, one which bears the phrase HNO₃ - ostensibly scribbled on by her.
"Acid?"
"Yes."
The two of them spend some time disposing of all the excess chemicals in a safe manner, as well as putting away and/or cleaning all used apparatus. Yushiro notes the calculated professionalism with which she moved. Her hands, wandering with perfectly stated intent, know where everything is stored. Impressive, considering the plethora of cabinets in that lab aren't even labeled. He asked her recently as to why it is that, as a doctor, she also had her own chemistry lab. She had said, and demonstrated, that though the treatment of people is her primary concern, that she was also preoccupied with the synthesis of drugs for pharmaceutical purposes. That, and she quite enjoys the practice. He couldn't argue with that, and he still can't. If he had within him the intimate understanding of chemistry and medicine that she harbors, he would doubtless spend the rest of his days conducting all manner of tests just to see what would happen.
Or maybe he's just saying that because Lady Tamayo likes it.
After they are done, she extends out her arm to him to present the test tube, still coated with the silver mirror.
"You can take this if you'd like," she says, "I have plenty of spare test tubes, and I thought you'd maybe like this as a piece of... memorabilia? Just a reminder of what you learned."
Hesitantly, his hand takes the test tube. He stares at the silver mirror, the glint of the ceiling light reflecting back to his eyes, lightly scorching them.
"Uhh... thank you, Lady Tamayo."
"Of course."
He puts the test tube in the front pocket of the shirt he's currently wearing underneath his yukata. An awkward, drawn-out moment of silence passes them, as Yushiro finds himself rolling his ankles and rocking his legs back and forth. She folds her hands over each other and brings them to her front. He clears his throat.
"So... what now?" Yushiro asks.
"Well," she seems to be looking through him, "we have no patients to take care of at the moment. And it's currently the dead of night, so I can't imagine anybody coming here unless there is an absolute emergency. So, I suppose you have some free time."
"Do you need help with anything?"
She raises her brow for but a split second, but she then shakes her head. "Thank you, but no. I will be in my study for a few hours, however. If you need me for anything, please do not hesitate to ask. Maybe you could have a look for something to read?"
"I might."
Internally, however, he descends into something of a rage at the prospect of not being able to spend even more time with Lady Tamayo. Confound it all! What he'd give to spend just a little bit more time with her, even something as humdrum as watching her water her plants, or even count money. But she's going to her study, which he understands to mean "I don't want to be disturbed, unless you need me for something". Not that he blames her for that; she's well within her rights for some privacy – especially during important academic matters.
But as he walks to the lounge which holds her own personal library, he can't help but admire her even more because of that! So disciplined, concerned with her work and studies! She dedicates so much time to it, it's become routine. Maybe it's that adage he once heard, that you don't work a day in your life if you enjoy it? He's not sure how much truth there is to that sentiment, but the burden of his collective responsibilities does seem to be lessened whenever he remembers that Lady Tamayo is the one who assigns him work. He'd do anything to make her happy.
Once in the personal living room, also illuminated by an electrical contraption on the ceiling, his hand starts hovering over the myriad of spines of books on the topmost shelf of the bookcase – situated adjacently to a purple chair, small table and a large reading lamp. Ideal conditions, really. Thankfully, it’s nowhere near as stuffy in here compared to the lab.
He admires how cultured she is, the thought of her sitting on that chair reading fills him with joy, makes his heart flip and dance in his chest. He's seen her do it before, he had walked in with tea (made at his behest, not hers) whilst she was in the middle of reading... he doesn't even remember. Either way, it was truly a sight to behold! A moment in time, perfectly captured, of her just sitting there looking utterly relaxed, not immersed in her work or responsibilities as a doctor.
Perhaps he should get in her mindset some more. Though he already had some basic reading skills, his old home wasn’t exactly a place overflowing with an abundance of literature. His comprehension has increased with an almost frightening momentum since coming under the tutelage of Lady Tamayo, who has also taught him the finer points of handwriting. He picks one of the books, a rather thin tome, at random and pulls it out of the bookcase, flips it over. Before he can read the title, however, he becomes mentally distracted by how perfect she is, and he brings the book to his chest and turns his back to the bookcase. He slides down to sit on the floor as he mentally unravels at the mere thought of her. So perfect! How does she do it?! Every room she enters becomes hopelessly contaminated with her grace! Every time she speaks, he feels he could faint!
He's certain that it's not bias speaking, that his admiration for her doesn't merely stem from how she saved his life. But even if that is the case, so what?! Surely to save another's life is the kindest act anyone could ever do! What did he do to deserve salvation from someone so...?
His excitable reflections are put to a halt by a... strange noise. Yushiro's eyes sharpen with focus, as he inches that tiniest bit closer to the doorway.
"What is that?" He asks himself, trying to decipher what it is he's hearing. It's grainy, scratchy, a bit muffled – almost as if it's underwater, somehow. But that doesn't make sense, as there's no large body of water nearby and he sincerely doubts Lady Tamayo has taken to flooding the house. Unless she’s trying to flush out mice, which she seems to hate.
Odd. It sounds almost like... music? Is that it?
Swiftly standing and placing the book back in its rightful place on the shelf, he tiptoes out into the corridor and attempts to decipher the origin of the noise. It has greater clarity, confirming to him that yes, it is music, but it's unlike anything he's ever heard. Oh sure, he's heard wandering bands of local performers before, playing traditional Japanese instruments. But this? This is nothing like those, it doesn't even bear a passing resemblance to the music from the continent. From what he can hear, there's a man and a woman singing some sort of... foreign language. Is it western?
It doesn't take him long to realize where the noise is coming from, his assertations promptly proved when he finds himself hovering outside the shut door to Lady Tamayo's study. The melody is clearer, louder, and more distinct. Though it retains its grainy muffled character, he can hear it much better. It's a soothing, low-tempo melody. A male/female duet sing in what may as well be an alien language, their voices frequently rising in power with the timings of the instruments... instruments? What are these? What's going on?
Lingering outside the study, he remains quiet as a mouse as he hopes to listen as much as possible. It's... strange, for sure. But it's... oddly comforting?
His inner thoughts are brought to an abrupt halt, however!
"Yushiro," a voice calls out from beyond the door, drowning out the noise of the music, "I know you're outside. Don't worry, you can come in if you want."
Of course, he thinks, of course she could sense me. After all, he can sense her too, not with any sort of pinpoint accuracy, but they have that mental connection which is hard to put into words. But she speaks as if she expected him to be there. Was the music a way of drawing him out?
Rather sheepishly, his hand fumbles over the doorknob and he turns it. The door opens and a rush of light blinds his eyes temporarily; this study, obviously, appears to be well-lit, and for good reason. As vision returns to him, he promptly notices the music playing with a hitherto inexperienced sharpness, still rather scratchy and grainy, but far more distinct than even out in the corridor. It's not quiet, but it's not completely deafening to the ears. Lady Tamayo, gracious and beautiful as ever, sits squarely at her desk. An array of different books are scattered across the table, one open and situated directly in front of her. It looks like she's been writing in it, which makes sense, considering the golden pen in her right hand.
Opposed to the desk, further back in the study, is a small table with what appears to be a very bizarre contraption on it. Some sort of dark-brown box, with a black disc on top and a... brass horn?
"Lady Tamayo," he exclaims, "what is that?!"
"It's a gramophone." She puts the pen in her hand onto the desk, perpendicular to the open book.
"A what?"
"A gr- it's for playing sound. It can play music."
He switches between looking at her and the gramophone, eternally conflicted at which he'd rather be focusing on now.
"Music? You can… err, put music in boxes, now?"
"Yes, Yushiro. Isn't modern technology just incredible?”
You're telling me, he thinks. Even he knows the marvels of modern locomotives, of industrial engines, of electricity and of... well, things like this now. A music box! How interesting! How does it even work? Deciding that such matters are far beyond his comprehension, he inches towards the gramophone as the track it had just been playing comes to a stop. After a few seconds of silence, another song starts. He can't even adequately describe what it is he's hearing. Whatever it is, it's fast, energetic – almost sounds like a variation of the shamisen, too. It's supplemented by a man with a particularly loud voice, booming bombastically in rhythm with the track. He sounds passionate.
"Uh... Lady Tamayo?" Yushiro turns to face her, who seems utterly focused on her studies.
"Yes, Yushiro?"
"What exactly is this? It sounds weird, like there’s warm rice porridge in my ears, and there’s a rainstorm outside.”
“That would be the gramophone,” she says as she scribbles something down in her book, “I suppose it can’t fully replicate organic sound. Maybe that will improve in the future.”
“Yes, but what is it? The music itself, that is?”
"It's Italian opera. Mozart."
"Who? What?"
"He was a famous western musician in the eighteenth century."
"Oh... uh, what are they saying?"
"I don't know. I just like the sound of the music." Lady Tamayo admits.
"I see..."
And he can see reason in that argument. Truth be told, there's something almost... inviting about it. Captivating. The weight in his legs has all but disappeared, that lump in his throat seemingly gone. He steps toward the gramophone again, and his heartbeat rises.
Oh, his Lady has just become that much more interesting! For how long has she kept hidden this admiration for music? He's never seen it before! Granted, they haven't been living together for that long... but still! What other hidden passions does her soul harbor?! He makes it his life's mission to find out every single one, or so help him!
"Yushiro?" Lady Tamayo addresses him again.
He quickly turns around, half-bows his head. "Yes, my Lady?"
"Do you like music?"
The question surprises him. As the music behind crescendos into an elegant finale, he struggles to formulate an answer.
"I... I never really took the time to appreciate it."
"I understand," she flips a page of her book and continues writing, "well, you can stay in here to listen, if you want. There's a chair in the corner there, if you'd like to sit down."
"Uh, I'll stand for now. It's okay."
"Very well," but then she interrupts herself, as if remembering something, "oh wait, could you please turn the handle on the gramophone a bit? It will stop playing, otherwise."
His eyes shifting between her and the gramophone, he replies. "Sure..."
At a slight loss for words at such an invitation (he's never been allowed to stay in the study for any elongated stretch of time), he walks around the gramophone before his hand grips the winch. Turning it slowly, the gramophone's current song starts to wind down. After more moments of silence, another instrument which he's never heard before begins to play at a slower-paced tempo. He turns his head to Lady Tamayo, in a suggestive act.
"It's called a piano." She explains, perfectly on-prompt, as she raises her head to look at him directly. He admires the perfect purple sheen in her eyes.
Yushiro nods. "It sounds... nice. Elegant, even."
Not as elegant as her, obviously, he smirks to himself.
"It does, doesn't it? Yushiro, did you know that there exists a kind of toy which works in a similar way as that gramophone?"
"Really?"
"Yes. It's called a 'jack-in-a-box'. You wind it up, and... well..."
Her trail of thought seemingly coming to an end, she looks back down to her book and continues working.
Yushiro can hardly believe what's happening. Is... is Lady Tamayo, that most mysterious and cool-headed woman, the fair Lady always so occupied with her own work, trying to engage in casual conversation with him? This has never happened before. Their interactions so far have been dominated by the distinct identity of that between a superior and their assistant. Master and apprentice. In many ways, it has been formal, almost strictly professional. There have been a few moments here and there where the mask did slip, as it were, and she allowed herself to move beyond the bounds of what could be considered a working relationship, but not to this degree.
Is this, perhaps, her way of opening up to him? It would make sense, after all. Lady Tamayo is many things, but emotionally open is seemingly not one of them. It wouldn't surprise him to learn that she has problems with being honest with others, that she doesn't find it easy to make connections. And the more he thinks on it, the more he thinks that maybe this has all been something of an elaborate ruse, a way to draw them together via seemingly innocuous means. It was the way in which she so readily invited him into the study, as if she were reading from stage directions.
Most fascinating! And heartwarming, too! Lady Tamayo need not be so shy or doubtful, for Yushiro can speak with her for hours upon hours until the roosters call forth the morning sunrise (they should stay away from exposed windows), or until the era itself passes over into a new one! But his fair Lady most likely knows this, he reckons, and is probably not so ready to talk openly. Understandable.
He calms his mind as the ambience of the music lulls him into an unanticipated security. He feels oddly one with himself, like everything's all right and he doesn't need to worry anymore. He observes Lady Tamayo's hard work, her continuous scribbling and scrawling on her book. She's so beautiful and pleasing to the eyes, even when working. What is she writing? He's fleetingly glimpsed her journals before, most of it is tantamount to gibberish in his eyes. What little he understands is devoid of much of its context, but she seems to like writing something akin to a working journal. Day-by-day accounts of the people and scenarios they encounter. For research purposes, perhaps? He cannot say.
Everything he learns about Lady Tamayo just makes her that much more engrossing. Such a wide, encompassing repertoire of knowledge she possesses! Such refined, cultured tastes! Such poise and dignity! He was shocked when she admitted to him that she had become a demon at only nineteen years old, barely four years older than him! Surely, a mistake! She has the maturity and class of someone at least twice that age! How amazing!
"Yushiro." Lady Tamayo calls out, interrupting the swirling mass of thoughts consuming his brain like a bug to the trunk of a tree.
He shakes his head, half-slaps his own temple and steps forward. "Yes?"
"I've been thinking," she puts her pen back down, closes the book and looks up at him, her hands clamped together as her elbows rest on the desk, "why don't we go to see a concert at some point in the future? From what I hear, more and more western-style tributes are playing across the cities these days. Failing that, we can always see something more traditional. Would you like that? It would help expand your horizons, surely.”
Yushiro can't help but hang his mouth wide open in shock, his thoughts led irresponsibly astray by the implication he himself has imposed on such a proposition.
Did she just ask me out?! Is Lady Tamayo asking me out, for an evening of her time, on a date?! No, of course not! It's not like that! She's just being kind! She wants to introduce me to something and stop being so silly!
Yushiro pats his chest, improving his composure. His face turns stern and steadfast, and he clasps his hands together in gratitude.
"I would be honored, Lady Tamayo! To spend an evening with you, sampling your interests, would be a privilege!"
"You don't need to put it like that," she looks down at the desk and smiles, "but thank you. I’ll see to arranging something soon, for when we can spare the time.”
Feeling as if his heart is about to break free from his chest, he then is suddenly overcome with a horrible thought: Lady Tamayo is so generous, so kind, but surely, she doesn't have the money to spare for such a thing! After all, her income mostly goes towards supplies for her clinic and lab, with only a small portion dedicated towards what might be considered nonessential. It’s just conjecture, but the gramophone must have cost her a pretty penny, and that's after saving up small amounts of money over the course of many, many years. Not to mention her extensive book collection! Maybe he's overthinking it, he's probably missed something important, but he doesn't want his fair Lady to go wanting! And it's not like he has any money; Yushiro didn't have a single coin on him when taken into her care, and she doesn’t pay him a salary (not that he ever expects one, mind you).
With a freakish surge of energy, Yushiro reaches into the folds of his yukata and advances towards her. She looks up at him in surprise as he slams a piece of paper inked with an arcane symbol, a talisman, onto the desk directly in front of her.
"Lady Tamayo," he pleads, "we can use my technique to sneak in! You won't need to pay at all!”
Eyes widened, corner of her lips slightly twitching, Lady Tamayo looks at her apprentice in something akin to a mild terror. Yushiro is quick to process her facial expressions and he soon realizes the magnitude of his own personal folly, as she addresses him with what sounds like concern in her voice.
"Yushiro, I appreciate the gesture, but I have plenty of savings. Money is not an issue. And besides, we're not thieves."
His face turning apple-red, Yushiro hastily takes the talisman and shoves it back into yukata. He then drops to his knees and prostrates himself in front of her, bending over in complete repentance.
"It was just a joke, Lady Tamayo! I humbly apologize!"