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“Ah, and this one, too!”
Luluka watched on fondly as Kurea scurried between the flowerbeds like an eager butterfly, following close behind at her own leisurely pace. Slipping her hands in her shorts pockets, she soon came to a halt as her partner decided to momentarily rest her wings.
“It’s just so breathtaking…” Kurea marveled, a glimmer of awe sparkling in her eyes.
“… Yeah, it is,” Luluka mused, sharing the same sentiment despite her attention being focused elsewhere entirely. As if on cue, Kurea glanced over and caught Luluka’s transfixed gaze, cocking her head slightly with a small smile of faux innocence. Luluka’s eyes widened, and she scrambled to mask her flushing cheeks as she glanced away with an awkward, forced cough.
“S-Sorry, I just…” Luluka started, her vision honing in on the gently swaying, blossoming lilies spread out before them.
Kurea gave a soft giggle that made Luluka’s heart flutter, only for it to leap into overdrive once she felt Kurea’s fingertips brush up against her own.
“Don’t apologize… the feeling is mutual, you know.”
Luluka whipped her head back in surprise, feeling her jaw grow slightly slack as all words failed her under the power of Kurea’s overflowingly affectionate expression, a look that was reserved for Luluka alone.
“And…” Kurea slipped their fingers together slightly as a playful grin temporarily took over her sugary smile. “It’s a bit exciting knowing that I’m the only one who can catch you off guard.”
Though Luluka’s eyes shifted again, she struggled to suppress a sheepish smirk of her own as she fully interlaced her and Kurea’s hands, giving a tender squeeze.
“… Don’t push your luck.”
… That’s exactly why you drive my heart crazy.
Kurea’s laughter echoed through the air again as she squeezed Luluka’s hand right back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I just can’t resist…” she trailed off, turning to face Luluka fully now. “But, in all seriousness…” she started, gingerly lifting Luluka’s hand before reaching her other across to rest gently atop its backside. “… Whenever you need a place to breathe… I’ll always be your perch, okay?”
A place where she could let down the mask… a place where she could be free…
A new beginning here, together with Kurea, in a place they’d make their very own…
… Luluka liked the sound of that.
Slowly, an adorably awkward, undeniably genuine and unfiltered grin took over Luluka’s face.
“… Thank you, Kurea. Likewise.”
****
The scent of lilies lingered faintly in Luluka’s nostrils as she stirred awake, brows furrowing while she rolled over on the shoddy, unmade mattress.
“… Kurea?”
Her slurred, disoriented murmur alerted Mashutan, whose ear gave a slight twitch from where she was curled up beside her on a contrastingly lavish cushion.
Finally, Luluka peeled her eyelids open, only to find herself back in the theater rafters, face to face with the same bleak pitch black walls and barren, cobweb covered crates that greeted her every other morning. Except, today wasn’t any ordinary day at all.
A tightly wound pit seemed to burst deep inside her gut, filling her with unbridled dread as the realization hit her. She hadn’t even remembered falling asleep, only tossing and turning until she must have inevitably passed out at some point from sheer exhaustion. She jolted right up and shoved her single sorry bedsheet aside, the abrupt motion finally nudging Mashutan to full consciousness. She uncoiled her tail from around herself, stretching lazily before moving to push her sleep mask up with her paw; revealing a pensively loaded gaze that now bore a hole in the back of her partner’s skull.
“… So it’s come to this, hasn’t it?” Mashutan muttered, finally breaking the thick silence.
Luluka maintained a steady, eagle eyed gaze on Usonoir’s empty throne that sat directly across from the stage. “… You already know what we have to do.”
Mashutan sat upright, pulling the mask from around her ears before shaking out her sleep-ruffled fur. “...Luluka dear, just remember that no matter what happens from here forward... you fought your hardest until the very end.”
... But it wasn't enough.
Luluka didn’t answer. She didn’t have to, for the begrudging nod of acknowledgment she gave was sufficient for the both of them. At last, she turned to the side, her gaze falling on her own battered envelope of a pillow. After a few still seconds, she reached over and gripped its corner, lifting it to reveal a certain photograph taken right from the scrapbook dream she’d just awoken from; with fraying, creased edges as though it were developed years ago.
Her jaw clenched as a tortured grimace spread across her face at the sight. Unable to bear it any longer, she turned away and let the pillow fall back to the mattress with a sad 'thud.'
With that, she shuffled off the edge and rose to her feet, setting off in preparation for her last stand on the horizon.