Work Text:
For once, it was Natsuhi pouring Eva a steaming cup of tea. The porcelain cup was filled nearly to the brim with a brilliantly blue liquid. Eva may have claimed poison, if she was still alive. But as death had claimed her, she no longer had any reason to fear retribution or revenge, as in the Golden Land, such disrespect was met with punishment by her predecessor.
The current year was 1998. In their tombs, time was eternal. As she looped her finger around the handle, thanking Natsuhi in a curt, clipped tone, Eva brought the tea near her face and asked for the brand.
“It’s called butterfly pea. It’s a herbal infusion tea made by brewing the petals of a specific flower found in Indonesia.”
“And that is?”
Natushi tensed as she cupped her beverage with both hands. Gently blowing on the wispy strands of steam, she firmly stated, “Clitoria ternatea.”
Eva’s lips lifted in a smirk. Natsuhi didn’t react to her subtle provocation. It seemed in the years since they had last spoken, Natsuhi had grown aware of particular innuendos. If there was, however, a meaning behind the chosen tea, then Eva could only ponder as she started to sip.
As anticipated, now that she knew the origin, it tasted silky and floral, like a sweet, mild nectar. Hints of lemon provided a pleasant zest. Eva gulped, then went back for seconds, finishing her tea with a sigh. Resting it on the coaster, she folded her hands on her crossed knee.
Natsuhi opted to hold her coaster as she placed down her cup. “Are you settling in well enough?”
She straightened and directed her attention toward the vast rose garden. From the arbor, it was as if she truly had stepped into the past. While the array of gold had shocked her, the sea of flowers affirmed she finally returned home. Departing from the violence of unforgiving reality, awakening in the warm embrace of her husband and son, Eva had sobbed until she had no tears left to shed.
She smoothed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her fingers flexed, and she knew the veins in her hand were not bulging under her old, comfortable gloves. Her age was fixed, and her skin was maintained with only scant wrinkles, a far cry from the decrepit, haggard form she assumed on her deathbed.
“It’s-”
Delaying, Eva peered at her ensemble. She gently tugged at her high, constrictive collar. She had not donned a cheongsam since that fateful family conference.
It was, after all, formerly stained with Natsuhi’s blood. Any similar outfit appeared dirtied with her deep red viscera. Eva couldn’t wear them, or she felt Natsuhi’s heat wetly seeping into her pores.
As she brought her gaze to Natsuhi, she twitched. A gaping hole formed where Natushi’s eye should have been. Dark, sloppy ooze dribbled down her pale face. Eva had seen through the back of her skull to the canopy just before Natsuhi crumpled. Now, she could’ve sworn she saw the roses through Natsuhi’s skull.
“...an? Eva-?”
She gasped. Air swelled in her panging lungs. She blinked, Natushi’s rising form casting a shadow over Eva. But before that hand could touch her, Eva quickly thrust her palm between them, the other squeezing her thigh, as both legs felt liquified. It was a miracle she still maintained the strength to sit upright.
Natsuhi hesitated, hand still outstretched. Slowly setting her coaster on the small, circular table between them, she laced her fingers together. Eva stilled, too, unsure of the sudden silence. The breeze rustled, carrying a soothing chill on her hot skin and the fragrant scent of tea.
In the arbor, it seemed they were the only living souls in the Golden Land. The vast, sprawling landscape was blanketed and plagued by solitude. In the distance, Eva discerned the solemn presence of the manor, serving as a repurposed house of hidden horrors.
“It’s been twelve years, hasn’t it? But everything looks the same,” Natsuhi said, and Eva regarded her with a pointed scowl. “For me, I’ve had more than enough time to ruminate about you.”
Always quick to question, as if under siege from the media, Eva pounced. “And what’ve you uncovered?”
Natsuhi traced the rim of her cup. “I found photographs stored in albums deep in closets. I found handwritten notes about your studies.”
Eva stiffened. Camera flashes blinded her. Men carrying notepads chased her, shouting from every angle.
“It was difficult living here for you, as difficult as it was for me.” Natsuhi lowered her voice. “Knowing how you were treated and how it extended beyond Rokkenjima-”
Eva demanded more tea. Natsuhi jumped, her shoulders hitching. She seemed unsure of where to put her hands, only to curl them around the handle of the pitcher. She poured, unblinking, staring only at Eva, and stopping when she seemed to sense the tea was about to breach the confines of the cup.
Eva cradled her drink. She leered at her murky reflection, though the tea was pure.
As soon as Natsuhi sat, Eva whispered, “I didn’t mean to cause your death.”
Smoky discharge dusted Natsuhi’s cheeks like blush. She snapped her head toward Eva, eyes as wide as their coasters. A visible tremble raced through her, stopping short of her tense shoulders.
They looked at each other, woman to woman. They were younger; they were older.
Gently, they reached for each other over their tea. Their fingers interlocked. Eva pressed her gloved fingers down on Natsuhi’s bony knuckles. Natsuhi did the same over Eva’s calloused knuckles, hardened from training and housework.
Around them, the Golden Land dimmed. The gentle, pleasant blue hue ebbed and flowed from their teas, subduing the spicy hints stemming from the roses. Natsuhi stroked Eva’s cheek, catching her tears with her thumb. The world may have blurred as Eva wept, releasing the burdens tormenting her heart, but Natsuhi’s cool touch remained, along with the chaste, soothing press of her lips to Eva’s brow.