Chapter Text
The ruins of Oz stretch endlessly before them, a haunting reflection of the dilapidated buildings that Yuhiru had once been familiar with in Japan. Sunlight struggled to pierce through the dense canopy of mutated flora above, casting long, shifting shadows across the path. The air hung heavy, oppressive with the humidity drifting from the foggy forest nearby and the overwhelming fragrance of wildflowers that bloomed in places where sunlight should have never been able to reach.
Claude leads the way, his gait steady as his scythe rests against his shoulder, prepared to strike at a ruin monster should it make its presence known. His straw-colored hair glows softly in the dappled light, a stark contrast to the inky black hair of the one who follows close behind. Despite the weight of his weapon and the danger lurking within the ruins, he moves with a familiar ease, his eyes scanning not only for threats, but for any specimens that may prove as useful to his research.
"Stay close to the center of the path, Yuhiru," Claude turns toward her, warning gently. His voice was calm, carrying that familiar, protective warmth that had become something of an anchor for her since beginning her journey in Oz. "The root systems here are aggressive. They tend to shift when they sense movement."
Yuhiru tightens her grip on the edge of her cloak, her dark eyes darting nervously towards a cluster of pulsing vines that seem to shiver as the two pass by. "I'm… trying," she admits, determination slipping into her voice despite the unease, "I just feel like we're being watched."
She takes another tentative step forward, her silver shoes crunching softly on the debris beneath her feet, "Do you think that it's more dangerous here? More so than yesterday?"
Claude offers a gentle smile, one that reaches his eyes and seems to promise that, whatever waits ahead, she would not have to face it alone. "Everything in Oz is dangerous, Yuhiru, but we're prepared." His gaze briefly drops to the path ahead, "And you're already doing what you should be doing by keeping your eyes on where you're stepping."
He reaches out, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder in an attempt to ground her. "If you feel tired, tell me immediately. There's no need to push yourself just to prove something."
Yuhiru looks up to him, feeling a familiar swell of gratitude blossoming from within her chest. "Thank you, Claude. I just…" Her fingers curl tighter around the material of her cloak. "I want to be useful to you too, you know? You call me your assistant, but I don't want to be the reason you need to slow down."
His expression softens, "You're no burden to me, Yuhiru."
The response from him comes so quickly, so effortlessly, that she blinks in surprise. He seems to realize it himself a moment later, his expression shifting slightly. "Your presence keeps me-"
He stops, a quiet cough escaping him as he turns his head, attempting, and failing, to hide the faint flush that was beginning to creep across his features.
"Keeps us moving," he corrects. The slight emphasis he placed on the word did very little to convince Yuhiru that it had been what he meant to say in the first place.
Claude's attention remains on her for another moment, the faint embarrassment lingering before he finally turns away. "C-come on," he says, clearing his throat as he adjusts the scythe against his shoulder. "There's a little farther to go before we reach the area I wanted to investigate."
Yuhiru follows, though she couldn't help the smile that starts to tug at the corners of her lips. Claude possessed a remarkable talent for making even the most dangerous of places feel strangely safe. Perhaps… perhaps that was why she found herself less frightened whenever he was beside her.
They continue deeper into the ruins, the path gradually narrowing as the vegetation began to thicken around them. Tangled roots force their way through fractured stone and curl around the remnants of the buildings that had long since been subject to the passage of time. Here and there, fragments of marble rose from the earth, half-swallowed by the moss and flowering vines. Some plants seemed almost ordinary upon first glance, yet the occasional twitch of a leaf or slow, deliberate movement of a vine served as an ever-unpleasant reminder that nothing in Oz could truly be trusted.
Claude slows, and Yuhiru notices how his attention shifts away from the path ahead. Instead, his eyes settle on something beneath the overgrowth to their left.
"What is it?"
He steps off the path without responding.
"Claude-"
"I'm only going to take a look."
Yuhiru sighs quietly, knowing that arguing with him when his curiosity had been piqued was hardly ever productive, nor successful in her favor. Still, she follows a few steps behind him as he approaches the remains of what seemed to have once been the courtyard of a mall. At its center, an enormous root breaks through the foundation and wraps around the stone.
It was unlike the other roots surrounding them, pale and smooth… almost bone-white in appearance. It twists through the ruins, disappearing beneath the earth, its surface rising and falling with a slow, rhythmic motion.
She stops, "Claude."
He glances back at her, waiting for her to continue.
"Is it… is it supposed to be moving?"
His eyes brighten with an unmistakable interest as he turns his attention back toward it. "That's what I'm hoping to find out."
He crouches beside the root, setting his scythe down next to him against a piece of broken masonry before he reaches for the notebook that he kept tucked away. Yuhiru remains where she stood, watching him work uneasily.
"I don't think I've ever seen a plant breathe before. The bucket plant-"
"Pitcher plant."
"…pitcher plant.. was one thing, but this?"
Claude runs his fingers lightly over the pages as he flips through his notes. "That's precisely why I want to document this."
"Shouldn't you be careful?" She asks, her eyebrow raising.
"I am careful."
The answer came so naturally from him that Yuhiru couldn't help but look at him with skepticism. He notices, and smiles.
"…Usually."
She crosses her arms, exhaling loudly. "That's… not reassuring."
"It wasn't really intended to be."
A quiet laugh escapes from her despite the situation. Considering his curious tendencies, she shouldn't be surprised that he would be so eager, yet a part of her couldn't help but recall the situation with the pitcher plant.
Claude turns his attention back to the specimen, lowering himself closer to the root. He studies the strange ridges along the surface, silently writing something down in his notebook on occasion.
"The structure is fascinating," he murmurs to himself. "The outer later resembles the texture of bark, yet it's far too smooth. And this movement…" His brows draw together in analytical focus. "It may not be respiration at all."
"So it's not breathing? What else could it be?"
"Perhaps some sort of fluid circulation. Think of how the blood moves through your body, for example."
He leans in closer, earning another step toward him from Yuhiru.
"Claude, maybe you shouldn't get so close…"
"I'm fine."
He reaches toward the root, carefully brushing away a layer of damp, dark moss that had formed, gathering along its side. For several seconds, Claude remains completely absorbed in his observations. Yuhiru draws closer if not only to get a closer look at what he was writing.
Then, something moves.
A tiny thorn emerges from beneath the pale surface of the root, entirely too thin to distinguish from the surrounding texture of the main body. Claude shifts his wrist, and the thorn catches him before he even notices. A sharp sting pierces through the fabric of his sleeve and glove, causing him to immediately pull his hand back.
"…Ow."