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Kazui is not fond of the winter season.
It isn't the chill that seems to seep through his entire being whenever he finds himself outside, nor was it the ice that froze over the streets and caused many a gentleman and woman to have unsightly spills. Even the delays of the carriages due to the eternal snowfall from heavens above did not peeve him in the slightest. The source of his disdain lies entirely outside of nature: his fellow man and all of the festivities that come with them.
It's a bit excessive, his hatred. Bitterness towards a period of time people found celebratory was unbecoming for a man of his status, but he has always told himself that he is justified. As long as he could remember, he's spent every winter putting on a longstanding performance in front of family members whose names he could never remember, nobles who only rubbed elbows with him for status's sake, and marriage candidates who he could never quite feign enough interest in.
He had hoped this year would be different— or, at the very least, somewhat tolerable— with Fuuta around. It's the first winter with him in the Mukuhara household, and the idea of having someone new, someone that he actually enjoyed the company of, to enjoy the holidays with him had gotten his hopes up.
Unfortunately, fate is a cruel mistress— a fact he is ever-increasingly aware of. Fuuta, like most of the qualified servants in the immediate area, were summoned to assist with preparations a week prior to the grand holiday ball. Most families of Kazui's status had more than one maid or butler at their side, so it was only a mild inconvenience at best.
For Kazui, however, it feels far too lonely. It isn't as if he couldn't take care of himself— he's perfectly capable of doing his own chores. He had simply gotten so used to seeing Fuuta every day in almost every waking hour that him being gone even temporarily makes Kazui feel as if a part of him is missing. Hinako visits him a handful of times during this week of solitude, but if she notices that something is amiss, she doesn't bring it up.
Now sitting in his carriage, Kazui selfishly can't help but be thankful that he hadn't been able to traverse with Hinako. They weren't even married yet, only arranged to be, and it would most certainly be frowned upon to enter together. Furthermore, as long as he danced just enough— one or two women, his fiancee included, would suffice— he could get away with just regularly mingling with the other men and even Fuuta, if he played his cards right.
He begrudgingly thanks the strictness of societal standards just this once.
The carriage slowly rumbles down the street, hindered by the snow. Kazui uses his extra time to observe the world outside his window. A well-dressed gentleman helps a similarly dolled-up woman into a carriage before getting in himself. A father in a basic coat takes his son's hand as they walk down the street, possibly warning him to be cognizant of the icy ground beneath their feet. A small group of women with shopping bags watch the carriages pass by with sparkling, dream-filled eyes.
Compared to everyone else, Kazui realizes his bitterness truly does stand out. He shakes his head with a quiet sigh to himself and turns away from the window. It's only one evening. The most difficult obstacle would be out of his way after tonight, and Fuuta would come back to the house. Maybe, if he's lucky, he'll see Fuuta at the ball— though he's well aware that even if that were to happen, there would be nothing more than a passing, knowing glance. He can accept that.
Resolved, Kazui leans his head back against the carriage and rests his eyes.
Many minutes later, he finds himself standing at the hall's entrance. The sound of polite chatter makes its way past the door to his ears, as if warning him that a crowd is already present. Kazui smooths down his waistcoat and gently tugs the lapels of his tailcoat to set it in place, then reaches up to ensure his boutonniere is snugly inserted in his upper left lapel. The small, white carnation has stubbornly refused to stay where it's meant to— he can only hope it doesn't fall out while he dances.
He feels ridiculous for being concerned about a flower, of all things, but he knows if his boutonniere goes missing when he's meant to be matching with Hinako's corsage, the whispers will begin. His worry about the flower is trivial compared to the rumors that could be spread around.
Feeling that he's stalled enough, Kazui enters the hall.
The brilliance of the hall's chandeliers nearly blind him as he steps inside. As he anticipated, there's already quite the gathering, just enough for him to enter with little fanfare. He formulates a plan: locate and greet Lady Shiina, the director of the ball; look to see if Hinako has arrived; and finally, make small talk with some of the people he already knows and share a dance or two with Hinako. After that, he figures it would be acceptable enough for him to make his silent exit.
Lady Shiina is easy to find, seated towards the back of the room in her golden silk dress. She's giggling at something her husband said as Kazui makes his way over, but quickly composes herself by the time he's standing in front of her.
"Mister Mukuhara!" she greets excitedly, standing up to curtsy politely. "So glad you could join us this evening."
"Of course." Kazui bows slightly, putting on a smile as he picks his head up. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." Even if he hadn't gained such a proficiency for lying, Lady Shiina would be none the wiser. She's easily excitable when it comes to the balls she hosts— or any event at all, really— to the point of being blind to the discontent of anyone else. It's always worked in his favor, at least.
"Did you come with Miss Mukuhara? Oh!" Lady Shiina puts a gloved hand up to her lips. "How could I forget? Your marriage is still a ways off, isn't it?"
It takes a significant amount of willpower for Kazui to not let out a defeated sigh. Somehow, these types of questions are worse when they're genuine. "It is indeed. It'll happen soon enough, I'm sure," he says with a chuckle. "Rushing will do us no good."
"You always were a patient man," she compliments, and it feels like the poke of a needle against his chest. "Well, do enjoy yourself, the both of you! The holidays are such a romantic time, after all."
Kazui bows again before taking his leave, this time letting the sigh escape from his body. She means well, he tells himself, but her insistence on everything being 'romantic' truly took the wind out of him. Regardless, that's his initial step out of the way. Hinako still hasn't arrived, surprisingly, so he searches for a familiar face to converse with while he waits.
"Ah, Kazui? Is that you?"
He turns around and is greeted by the familiar face he'd been looking for. "Shidou," he greets, a bit more happy to see him than Lady Shiina. "It's been awhile."
"That it has. How are you holding up?"
"Ah, nothing new, really," Kazui answers. "The usual work. I can't complain."
"That's good to hear," Shidou says with a smile. "And how's Miss Hinako? All is well with your relationship, I hope?"
"She's doing well. I happen to be waiting for her, actually." Kazui avoids the question of their relationship by looking around pointedly. "How's Miss Kirisaki? And the kids?"
"Quite well. The boys have been making significant progress on their education— we're quite proud."
"I'm sure they're just as smart as their father. Perhaps they'll take over the practice from you someday."
Shidou chuckles. "You flatter me. You are right, however. I can only hope they'll be as inclined with medicine as I am," he muses. "But I will be happy as long as they do something productive with their lives."
Seeing Shidou so obviously proud of his kids, even with the possibility that they may not follow in their father's footsteps, brings a pang of jealousy to Kazui's heart. The things he would sacrifice to have that sort of freedom…
Suddenly, past Shidou's shoulder, Kazui spots a familiar head of red hair bustling about through the crowds of people. Even just a glimpse of Fuuta livens his spirits, and he goes to excuse himself from the conversation—
"Oh? It looks like Miss Hinako has arrived."
Ah. How timely. Kazui slowly shifts so he's facing the front door and, sure enough, Hinako stands at the entrance, greeting a group of ladies along with her mother. He doesn't want to approach her while she's preoccupied, so he turns back to Shidou in an attempt to spot Fuuta again, to no avail.
"You're not going over to her?" Shidou asks.
"I don't want to interrupt her," Kazui replies smoothly. "I wouldn't want to insert myself into her socializing unnecessarily."
"I see. How thoughtful of you,." Shidou glances over before turning his focus back to Kazui. "Oh, do be careful. It seems your carnation is falling out."
Kazui hurriedly re-secures the flower into his lapel.
Shidou eventually bids him goodbye and leaves to be with his wife, leaving Kazui alone on the ballroom floor once more. The orchestra begins to pick up in volume, prompting the ball-goers that the time for dancing is upon them. Kazui hastily— but not too hastily, lest he be seen in a grand rush— makes his way over to Hinako, who is still engaged in conversation with another lady.
"Miss Hinako." He takes Hinako's hand when she acknowledges him, pressing a kiss to her gloved knuckles. "May I have this dance?"
The ladies around them whisper amongst themselves excitedly, duly reminding him why he detests making a grand showing such as this. Fortunately, Hinako quickly voices her approval, and he whisks them away to the dance floor to fall in step with the currently waltzing couples.
"It's wonderful to see you," Hinako says, smiling up at him. "I apologize for being late."
"Not at all," Kazui replies as he carefully spins them. "You look fantastic tonight."
Hinako giggles when he pulls her close. "So do you."
The steps to the waltz are basic. Kazui had spent countless hours learning them in his youth, enough so that he could likely perform them in his sleep. Currently, it means he can put less focus into leading Hinako across the dance floor while he scans the room for Fuuta once again.
"…Are you alright?" Hinako asks suddenly, looking up at him with concern. "You seem out of sorts."
Kazui clears his throat, embarrassed at being caught. "I'm fine," he lies. "I suppose I'm a bit under the weather," comes a second fib. "But I feel much improved after seeing you." He ends his final lie with another spin, feeling a bit guilty for the glowing smile on Hinako's face.
"You're so sweet."
He ignores how the otherwise normal praise makes his chest hurt.
After what seems like an eternity, the song reaches its end, and the dancing comes to a gradual stop. Kazui bows deeply as Hinako mirrors him with a curtsy. The onlookers clap politely as another song begins to play, the couples swapping out along with the tune.
"Thank you for this dance," Hinako thanks him, curtsying again. "Will I see you later?"
"But of course."
Hinako nods with a bright smile before she takes a step away from the dance floor, likely waiting for another man to request a dance. Kazui similarly steps back, but immediately turns around and makes his way into the crowd. He's done what's been expected of him, so surely now is the time to make his exit before anyone else came to speak with him.
He's just about ready to head back towards the entrance when red hair catches his gaze yet again. This time, he's able to follow it as Fuuta weaves through the crowd before quickly exiting out of a side door— the door to the garden. Compelled, Kazui makes his way to the same door and steps outside into the cold night air.
The garden is well-kept, the path surrounded by neatly trimmed flower beds and elegant marble statues. He follows the road lit by oil lamps, taking in the various shades of roses and carnations as he does— it seems like Lady Shiina's romanticism truly made an impact out here. He almost finds it enjoyable. Perhaps the ballroom tires him out more than he had thought.
Luckily, he doesn't need to walk far for him to find what he's looking for: Fuuta, sitting in the wrought iron gazebo, his expression downcast as he stares at his feet.
"Fuuta?" Kazui calls quietly, making the young man jump.
"Ah— it's you." Fuuta sighs in relief. Kazui supposes that anyone else finding him out here would have put him in a world of trouble. He shifts towards the end of the bench, silently inviting Kazui to sit next to him— an invitation Kazui accepts without hesitation.
"Is everything alright?" he asks once he's seated. "You seem… Upset."
Fuuta continues to glare at his shoes, his frown deepening. "I'm just tired," he says, beginning to kick the ground with the tip of his shoe.
"Is that really all?"
He doesn't want to push, but he's known Fuuta for long enough to tell that this wasn't simply exhaustion that was bogging him down.
"I…" Fuuta stops abusing the ground and takes in a deep breath, then lets it go with another sigh. "…I just feel so out of place."
"…What do you mean?"
"I haven't been a butler that long," Fuuta explains. "So I make a lot of stupid mistakes. Even if I don't make that many, it's always more than everyone else. Plus…" he scratches the back of his neck, visibly displeased. "Most of the other servants were dancing along and mimicking the steps when we weren't as busy. It made me feel awkward, because I never got to learn that stuff."
Kazui can understand where he's coming from, at least. Though the education of servants is nowhere near as high quality as that of the upper class, they're still expected to know the basics: how to read, how to write, and even how to dance if the situation ever were to call for it. Most maids and butlers, from what Kazui is aware, simply pick it up from watching the masters of the house practice so they can then later teach the children of the house.
But of course, the Mukuhara house had no children, and Kazui held no reason to practice dancing on his own, so Fuuta has never had the chance to even witness proper dancing steps before this, let alone practice them.
"Would you like to?" Kazui asks, tilting his head. "I'd be happy to teach you."
Fuuta looks up at him. "You don't have to."
"I'm aware, but I would like to, if you're up for it."
There's visible apprehension in Fuuta's face, and Kazui wonders if he's overstepped with his offer. However, Fuuta slowly nods his head, his hesitation turning into what looks to be embarrassment if the flush on his face indicates anything.
"Okay. But don't blame me if I step on your feet."
Kazui chuckles and rises to a stand, holding out a hand towards Fuuta. "You don't need to fret about that."
Fuuta nods again as he takes Kazui's hand.
Gently, Kazui leads Fuuta out of the gazebo to the more spacious path. He starts with taking Fuuta's other hand and placing it on his own shoulder, noting that their difference in height seems more significant when they're close together like this. Beyond the walls, he can distantly hear the orchestra begin a new song, almost as if it was being played just for them.
"You'll just be mirroring my steps," he explains, wrapping his hand around Fuuta's in the air while his free hand settles against Fuuta's shoulder blade. "Think of our movement as a box shape. I'll go forward first, and then to the right."
"Okay," Fuuta acknowledges, his brow furrowed in concentration. It's cute how serious he seems to be taking their pseudo lesson, Kazui thinks.
Slowly, Kazui takes a step forward with his left foot, to which Fuuta stiffly steps back with his right. The step in time to Kazui's right, and then back—
"Ack—" Fuuta steps with the wrong foot onto Kazui's shoe and immediately springs back.
"You're alright," Kazui reassures, taking Fuuta's hands again. "You're doing great. Just take it slow, we're in no rush."
He's concerned that Fuuta would give up after the single mistake; however, if there's anything Fuuta is, it's stubborn. So they try again, moving in time with the distant music. With every step, Fuuta gradually relaxes in his hold, and his missteps become less and less frequent until they stop happening at all.
"See?" Kazui says, smiling down at him. "Not so difficult."
"Yeah," Fuuta agrees, and, to Kazui's surprise, cracks a smile when he looks up. "It's actually kind of fun."
For once, Kazui happens to concur. He can't recall a time he's ever enjoyed his time dancing up to this moment. "I'm glad," comes his reply. "We're only missing one more step."
"We are?"
"Well, you can't just move around in a box forever," Kazui clarifies. "It would be awfully boring if that were the case. Instead, you move across the dance floor—" he tightens his hold on Fuuta as he begins to step into a spin. "—Like so!"
"Whoa!" Caught off guard, Fuuta stumbles and instantly trips over his own feet. Thankfully, Kazui is quick to catch him, wrapping an arm around Fuuta's waist as Fuuta holds Kazui's hand for dear life. His widened eyes and renewed flush only serve to make Kazui laugh at their newfound position.
"Well, this isn't the most traditional pose…" he muses teasingly.
"You didn't— you can't just do that without warning!" Fuuta scolds, but he quickly devolves into his own fit of laughter that rings like music to Kazui's ears.
They are happily unaware of a presence standing at the garden door, holding an abandoned white carnation to her chest as she looks on with a disconcerted gaze.