My second contribution to the @2019loveforallseasonsproject~

I did a collab with the wonderful @lokiiwood based on their lovely fic Chestnuts & Lanterns

It’s a beautifully fluffy fic that will leave you all warm inside~

Be sure to check it out!

Chestnuts & Lanterns - Zen/Reader

simona-artista-artblog:

My finished pieces by @yoifantasyzine! I loved swan princess as a kid so it was great being able to mash that up with something I love now! X3

My two pieces for the @klance-victorian-zine !!! Hidden love by the street lamp, and tenderness in the mirror. I loveee period piece anything so I had a awesome time with these ones. Check out everyone else’s work too!

An Echo of You and I

Fandom: Persona 5

Word count:2497

Rating:T

Summary: When Akira wakes up, all he can see is an expanse of gray desolate world stretching far into the horizon. A pulsing echo tugs at his heart—a single thought sent to his mind: I’ll come back to you. Come hell or high water, he means to keep that promise. And so he rises to feet and follows that guiding light.

Note: This is a piece I wrote for Blood Oath: A Persona 5 Soulmates Zine.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

Let’s make a promise, she said.

It was not unusual for them to make promises—silly promises they sometimes took as jest. But her voice was firm, her fingers tightening around his. Akira looked to his side and saw Ann staring upward, her gaze hard as she beheld the sea of stars spreading as far as the eye could see. In a voice so quiet that the wind could barely pick it up, her pursed lips parted.

“Let’s promise to meet again. However long it takes. However far apart we are. Someday. Somewhere.”

Around the wrists of their linked hands hung matching red bracelets—ones she’d bought from a traveling merchant who’d recently come to town. The sturdiest thread in all the land, he’d said. So that, should they be separated, they would still be connected.

Akira brushed his thumb over her knuckles. Once upon a time, he’d dreamed of putting a ring there. “Come hell or high water, I’ll come back to you, Ann,” he said. “I promise.” And like a seal, he brought her hand to his face and pressed his lips to her fingers. High above, a star streaked across the heavens, leaving a trail of flaming blue in its wake.

***

Before his eyes stretched an expanse of desolate world. Hard cracked earth melded with the bleak, empty sky. Akira dragged one heavy foot in front of the other, his movement sluggish and slow. How long had he been here? How far had he gone? The world had neither sun nor moon, no light or darkness. The passing of time was but a fever dream, one he’d begun to wonder if it ever existed.

At times, a pulsing echo would spread across the land, coming from the ground or the sky or within his very self. His blood would thrum, like the steady rhythm of a beating heart, sending a single thought to his mind: I’ll come back to you, I promise. But his muscles screamed, his weary bones begged for rest. Akira gritted his teeth and forced himself to move.

Just a little longer, he thought, a little farther; home is just beyond that distant crest.

But the crest never grew closer. The notion of home slowly slipped from his mind. And maybe… maybe he was trapped. Punished. Doomed to never leave this obscure plane. And because of what? He couldn’t remember.

Tripping over a non-existent pebble, Akira’s legs gave away and he collapsed onto the ground. His blood pulsed—the traces of a familiar voice whispering, Getup. But his energy was spent. Darkness crept from the edges of his vision. And just as his eyelids began to close in what he welcomed as a deep slumber, light flashed, bright and warm and making his skin tingle like a newborn baby.

Colors exploded into his mind—images, flitting and fluttering like the flapping of wings of birds taking flight. Of different times and different places, different people with different faces. Sometimes so vague he could barely grasp what was happening, other times so vivid it was as though he was experiencing them himself. And there he was, searching—always searching—but never finding.

Where are you? Where are you? I’m here. But where are you?

Somewhere beyond the void of his mind, his bracelet pulsed. The sturdiest of red threads, now tattered and dirty and gray. Its glow had dimmed, its faint pulse a feeble attempt to make him move. “Get up,” it said. “She’s out there. She’s waiting.”

Who was to know? Who was to know if he’d find her at all?

The thought settled. Whatever strength he’d possessed ebbed away. Akira drew a lungful of breath, and as he surrendered himself into the void, the last vestiges of the echo sputtered out.

***

There was a reason the North Star was used in navigation. Its nearly fixed location due north had helped countless travelers and vagabonds find their way when all seemed lost. Such was what Akira told Ann as they lay on a quiet, grassy hill a short walk away from the city. Her eyes sparkled as they followed the direction of his finger, to where a small gleaming light hung high on the star-painted sky.

“I like that star,” she said. “Can it be my star?”

“What do you mean? It’s everyone’s star.”

“Yes, but it’ll always lead you home, right? So, my star.”

Akira couldn’t comprehend that logic, but the way her smile lit up her face made his stomach flip and flop. He would do anything to protect it. So he nodded, then watched her smile grow.

“If you’re ever lost or couldn’t find your way, just look up at the sky and find my star. You’ll find your way home.”

***

It was an odd sensation—the way consciousness returned. One moment, Akira was stuck in limbo as the remnants of his dream faded; the next, he realized he was staring at the backs of his eyelids. Dread crept into his heart—that he was back, and he had been denied his eternal slumber. But a twittering of birds filled his senses, then a crawling heat on his skin and brightness just beyond his sight. When Akira finally opened his eyes, what greeted him froze him into place.

Bright endless blue stretched as far as the eye could see. No sign of the hazy gray sky. Nothing to say of the endless wasteland. Above him, boughs of a great maple tree provided an all-encompassing shade, and beyond them were puffs of silvery clouds drifting past in a breeze that felt cool and ticklish.

Where was he?

Akira pushed himself off the ground, bones creaking and muscles straining. All around him, greens spread in a mixture of plains and rolling hills. Was this another one of those visions? Was he still in another dream? The questions came in quick successions, when suddenly, footsteps approached from behind. He leaped around, hand going to his hip on instinct for a sword that wasn’t there. But the face that stared back at him stopped him short.

“You’re awake.”

Blue eyes twinkled between voluminous golden hair. The face was sharper, the bones more prominent. A foreigner, one might say, and yet he could not deny the familiarity he felt. And her voice… His tears came unbidden; Akira choked on a lump at the back of his throat.

“Ann,” he croaked. Home. He was home.

Ann’s eyes widened, then after a heartbeat, a tiny smile graced her lips—very much like the one he remembered, and yet…

“Ah, yes, you would know me by that name.”

He blinked. What do you mean? He wanted to say, but his throat was too parched. He could only manage broken grunts and groans.

Ann’s features warmed. She turned around and, nodding for him to follow, said, “Come.”

She led him down the hillslope to a lone little cottage in the valley. Up a short flight of stairs and past a single wooden door, he entered a cozy interior with a table and chairs next to a bubbling pot of what appeared to be stew above a fire. Ann—or, the woman appearing like Ann—moved to the cupboards and reached for a bowl.

“Care for stew?” she asked. She didn’t wait for his answer before she ladled a spoonful or two of the steaming gruel into the ceramic bowl.

Akira watched her set it down on the table before placing a matching spoon beside it. Then, she went back to the water pitcher on the counter and poured him a glass. Crystal clear, the water seemed to sparkle even without the sun hitting the glass.

“Drink.”

It was too good, too much. Fate had never been this kind to him.

“Is this a dream?” he asked.

The woman stared at him before directing her gaze to the water. “Almost a thousand years have passed since the last time you spoke. Drink, lest your throat hurt even more.”

A thousand…

“Who are you?”

“I am who you say I am.”

“But…” He swallowed past the dryness. “You said you’re not her.”

“I am her—or, a fragment of her that still lives in your mind.”

Maybe it was the fatigue, or the hunger and dehydration. The woman was not making any sense. A thousand years he’d journeyed with not so much as human contact. This brief interaction had drained him of what energy had prompted him to follow her. She seemed to notice it, because then she pulled a chair and asked him to sit.

A part of him struggled against it, but his feet moved on their own accord, and before he knew it, he’d settled on the wooden chair, the glass of sparkling water in his hand. Drink, the woman said.

Itwas the fatigue. No water had ever looked this appetizing in all his life. It glistened as though diamonds were sprinkled all around it.

Drink, she said, so you can meet her again.

And against his better judgment, he did.

***

The stars were never in their favor; it had taken him long to realize that. Not when they branded his father a traitor and stripped him of his title. Not when they executed him and he and his mother had to flee the city. And when his squire came to him with the gravest of news, Akira’s faith that Fate would someday be kinder to him crumbled away.

“They’re persecuting them, my lord—the Takamaki Family.”

It didn’t take long for him to grab his sword and grab his horse, riding past raging rivers and dark, overgrown forests to where the city he once called home stood at the foot of a mountain. The smoke blasted his senses just as he neared the Takamaki manor, his horse rearing at the sight of the blazing inferno.

Ann!came the gut-wrenching thought screaming in his mind.

Akira leaped off his horse and rushed into the masses. The air reeked of the stench of burning flesh. All around him, servants of the House lay on the ground, coughing and wheezing and moaning their wounds. But none of them were the Lord and Lady of the Takamaki household. None of them were Ann.

“Lord Akira?” a voice called over the clamor. A familiar face peeked from beneath a familiar helmet. One of the guards carrying a limping elderly man emerged from the gate.

“Hiro!” Akira ran toward him, helped him as they set the man down on the ground. “Hiro, what happened?”

“They’ve taken His Lordship, my lord. He’s in custody.”

“On what charges!?”

“The same ones they charged the late Lord Kurusu with.”

It didn’t make any sense. Whatever foul play had happened behind those doors, Akira had thought they had specifically targeted his father. Hence why, when he and his mother fled, they had cut off all ties with their close relations. Except… he had made that promise, and they had still exchanged letters. Had those people found them?

Akira made to bolt into the flames, but Hiro caught his arm.

“Don’t, my lord, lest you want them to find you inside and drop more charges onto His Lordship. Your being here already endangers yourlifeand House Takamaki.”

Akira gritted his teeth. “But Ann—”

Hiro’s grip on his arm tightened, so hard that it grounded Akira and cleared the desperation from his mind. He was not, however, prepared for Hiro’s grim expression.

“The Young Mistress is missing.”

It was like a bomb that robbed him of all reason.

“What…?”How?

No one knew. After Lord Takamaki’s arrest, no matter how futile it was, Ann had been doing everything she could to prove her father’s innocence, even as the situation grew more despondent each day. But one day, she’d come out of her room, looking excited, and said she’d found a lead. She’d left for the town, but never came back.

“We’ve scoured the entire city and surrounding areas, but nothing.” Hiro pursed his lips. “Not even a body.”

Akira curled his hands, nails digging deep into his skin to keep him sane.

“So, please, my lord, find her.”

If this had started from their letters… If he had caused this tragedy…

No, he would not let himself think that. Ann was out there, alone and cold in the wilderness, with no knowledge of navigation safe for the North Star he’d told her when they were children.

Come hell or high water, he’d find her. He’d promised.

***

Akira gasped, tears spilling from his eyes as he gazed at the murky haze of his desolate sky. The vision had dissipated, but the scorching heat was still fresh in his mind, the smoke suffocating his lungs. And Hiro’s grip…

Find her.

“Have you remembered?”

Her voice. How much he’d missed her voice.

A sob escaped him; Akira shuddered as he took a breath. “Is this my punishment?” he asked. “Because I failed her?” High and low, for miles across, he’d searched for her. Into the deepest oceans, over the highest mountain. But nothing. Not even a body or a trace of blood. As though she’d disappeared. As though she’d never existed. The stars had never been in their favor.

“Of course not,” came the voice’s reply. “It wasn’t your fault. It never was. You were only caught in life’s events. And maybe Fate had not dealt you the best odds, but you were so fixated on your guilt, you’d let yourself believe that is what Fate decreed. But nothing is farther from the truth than that. The stars have always been in your favor, Akira. You need only know where to look.”

“What do you mean?”

A single pulse echoed from his wrist. Akira peered at his bracelet, red and glimmering in faint light.

“I am the bond which binds you. As long as I am here, know that you are still connected. Look, the clouds part.”

He didn’t believe it, yet he found himself raising his gaze nonetheless. And there, indeed, the haze dispersed, and beyond stretched the blanket of blue and black. A single star shone, twinkling in the darkness.

If you’re ever lost, just look up at the sky and find my star.

Could he dare to hope? After an eternity of this desolate place, walking countless lifetimes without finding her, could he hold out and hope once more?

The star sparkled in the distance, and.in his mind, he could see her face light up with that brilliant beam. Akira! she’d call him. His bracelet pulsed, sending strength he had thought long lost to him. A hand, warm and gentle, enveloped his.

“Get up.”

For the first time, Akira felt a smile breaking through his lips. Slow, but sure. He pushed himself off the ground, fighting against the fatigue weighing down his bones. The star glinted in the distance, promising him that this time, he would find his home.

“It might have taken me a thousand years, but come hell or high water, I’ll come back to you,” he whispered to himself. “I promise you, Ann.”

~ END ~

Forest of Fireflies

Fandom:Dororo

Word count:1993

Rating:T

Summary: Tahomaru had always yearned for a brother. To think, all this time, his parents had kept from him the fact that he once had a brother. A what-if scenario in which Tahomaru and Hyakkimaru live as brothers.

Note: This is a piece I wrote for @dororofanzine

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

Of all the things his parents kept from him, Tahoumaru never thought it would be a brother. One year older than him, a little taller, a little paler, with doll-like features that gave away his abnormal nature. Yet despite the lack of limbs and sight, Hyakkimaru had moved so swiftly, his limbs so agile as he’d fought the monster in the lake. The careful plan Tahoumaru had laid out had not been enough. Hyogo would not have survived had Hyakkimaru not leaped off the shore and slashed the monster’s back, rendering it lifeless in one blow.

“Brother…”

The word rolled off his tongue in a soft murmur. Foreign yet familiar, as though he had whispered it countless times between dream and reality. His right eye smarted—a reminder of the gash Hyakkimaru had inflicted upon him. To think the brother he’d yearned for wound up being the person he had to kill. Like a mocking to the turmoil in his heart, the pond before him lay still. Tahoumaru tossed the pebble in his hand, sending the water rippling in his wake.

***

“There you are!”

Tahoumaru looked up to see his brother in the darkness, out of breath, with concern lining his features. He blinked, eyes widening in surprise. But before he could ask why Hyakkimaru was there, his brother had already rushed to his side and asked if he was alright. Tahoumaru hadbeen alright. At least, until that moment.

“Why are you here?” he demanded.

“The page feared you might’ve gotten lost.”

“The page?” Of course. Whom else could Brother have heard about his excursion from? Even though Tahoumaru had made him swear not to breathe a word of it.

Father was away, Mother was busy preparing her birthday celebration, and Brother… He should’ve been cooped up in his study. It had been the perfect chance to sneak out, so he’d gone to the page and asked where the rare fireflies lived. Had everything gone according to his plan, he could’ve snuck back inside with none the wiser. But there Hyakkimaru now stood in front of him, mouth pulled into a frown and arms folded over his chest.

“You left a little before noon and now the sun has set and you’re still not back. Who wouldn’t have been worried? Good thing the page told me instead of Mother.”

It was an instinctive response—the way Tahoumaru whipped his head, eyes flying wide in horror at the thought that his mother knew what he was doing. “Did you tell her anything?”

“No, I told her you’d gone to bed earl—”

Relief washed over him like a tidal wave. His shoulders dropped, the tension leaving him as his sigh filled the air. But that display only sparked Hyakkimaru’s curiosity. Across from him, his brother tilted his head to the side.

“Is it something Mother shouldn’t know?”

It wasn’t. Not yet, at least.

For a fraction of a second, Tahoumaru met his brother’s eyes, dark brown in the night. The curiosity was genuine, at the quirk of his brows and his wide-open eyes. But his brother couldn’t know where he was going or what he was planning. This was supposed to be his gift. From him. Not his brother. Tahoumaru broke eye contact, turned around, and continued on his way.

He felt the scowl almost immediately, heard the exasperated sigh. “Tahoumaru,” his brother called, soft. “Tahoumaru, wait!” A moment later, dry summer grass crunched beneath soft footfalls. Tahoumaru tried not to think of the presence following from behind.

The forest was dark. Could he lose his brother somehow? Around that bend or under that ditch. He doubted it, not when Hyakkimaru possessed such a keen sense. How else could his brother have found him so quickly?

“Tahoumaru!” Brother was persistent. Tahoumaru quickened his pace. “Would you mind telling me where we’re going at least?”

Of course not. He would not so easily divulge his plans. He ducked beneath a low-lying branch and trudged on.

“The page said something about fireflies.” Hyakkimaru tried again. Tahoumaru had half-expected that, but his teeth still gritted at the thought. “Aren’t there fireflies near the castle?”

There were, but the ones Tahoumaru sought were the rare type living deep in the mountain. Ones that would glow bright gold in the night, like little lanterns bobbing in the air. They said one of those would be enough to light an entire room.

“Tahoumaru.”

“Just go. I can take care of myself.”

Hyakkimaru’s gaze pierced his back, but Tahoumaru kept his eyes on the path in front of him. He hoped his brother would take his advice. Leave him alone and wait at the castle. He would show his brother that he could return safely to the castle, that Hyakkimaru’s worry hadn’t been warranted.

In the quiet, faint sounds of gurgling water drifted in from the distance, growing louder with each step. Tahoumaru paused, ears pricked. Up the mountain where the water flowed clear and fresh—that was where the rare fireflies dwelled according to the page. When Hyakkimaru joined his side and asked what was wrong, he looked at his brother and grinned.

“We’re here!”

In his excitement, Tahoumaru didn’t hear his brother’s warning. The sleeves of his red robe missed Hyakkimaru’s clutch by several inches as he rushed up the last stretch of the incline. At the top, the line of trees broke away and revealed the vast blue-black sky sprinkled with starlight.

“Tahoumaru, wait!”

The cry came too late. Tahoumaru reached the crest and slipped.

It was more of a steep incline than a cliff, not exactly high, but tumbling down the rocky face with nothing—no ditch or little dips or even a stray tree root—to hold on to was enough to drive the air out of his lungs when Tahoumaru landed hard on his back. From somewhere up ahead, Hyakkimaru called, a distressed cry that told Tahoumaru not to move. Tahoumaru grunted in response. Every part of his body hurt, the back of his head pounded in a pulsing ache. Tahoumaru pried open his eyes only to see his vision swim. He shut them again, cursing under his breath.

“Tahoumaru!” The call came again from somewhere behind. Rocks and pebbles cascaded down the slope as Hyakkimaru slid down, landing with a thud on the ground below. It took no time for him to reach Tahoumaru’s side and crouch down. “Are you alright? Anything hurt?”

“Just dizzy. I think I bumped my head.”

An incomprehensible mumble, but his brother somehow understood. Warm fingers parted his hair, pressing gently on his scalp. When they brushed against a tender bump at the back of his skull, Tahoumaru yelped.

“Nothing bleeding, at least,” Hyakkimaru said. “What about your arms? Legs?”

Tahoumaru tested them. His fingers moved, then his toes, slowly bending his arms at the elbows, then lifting them on the shoulders. A dull pain when he moved his left shoulder, but nothing too serious. Only a bruise, Hyakkimaru said after inspecting it. A nasty one that would last a few weeks. What followed was silence, then a long exhale of a sigh. Tahoumaru winced, bracing himself for the scolding—

“Thank the Gods you’re alright.”

The relief pouring out of his brother’s quiet voice was so thick and palpable, Tahoumaru had trouble finding the words to respond. He pried open his eyes again and when he found that his vision had steadied, he spotted Hyakkimaru hanging his head beside him, his face split into a relieved smile.

“Why?”

He hadn’t meant to voice it aloud. An internal question he had wanted to ask himself. But it was already out, and Hyakkimaru lifted his face to look at him.

“Why what?”

“Why do you worry so much?”

The tilt of his head and his furrowing brows accented Hyakkimaru’s bewilderment. “Is it wrong of me to worry about my brother?”

It was such a quick and simple answer, with not a pause or a stammer, sincere. He waited for the jest, or the teasing remark, but those deep brown eyes remained earnest. Heat crept up Tahoumaru’s face, and he looked away. It was then that the snort came—a hearty chuckle that shook his brother’s shoulders.

“What’s gotten you so bashful?”

Tahoumaru gave a soft, amused scoff, even as his cheeks burned. He didn’t know either.

Once the dizzy spell was fully gone, Hyakkimaru helped him sit up, carefully avoiding any sudden movements that would induce any more dizziness or pain on his arm. Tahoumaru murmured a thank you, massaging the sore spot on his head as he took in their surroundings. A sandy riverbank that hugged a fresh-flowing stream. The thought of whether they’d reached the right place had just entered his mind when a single golden light caught his attention.

“Tahoumaru, look!”

His brother spotted it at the same time he did—a firefly rising from the tall grass around them. One, two, three… Their numbers multiplied exponentially in the blink of an eye. They glowed yellow and gold, turning the night as bright as day.

Swiftly and carefully, Tahoumaru caught the little bug between his hands. Light shone from between his fingers. As Hyakkimaru drew close, Tahoumaru uncovered his hands to show the single firefly, its light blinking from its bulb.

“I wanted to catch one for Mother,” Tahoumaru admitted. “I wanted to give one for her birthday.”

Beside him, Hyakkimaru nodded. “She’ll love it.”

She would. Tahoumaru could picture the bright smile she would have when the firefly lit up her party. He pursed his lips. “I didn’t want you to know.”

Another crook of Hyakkimaru’s brow as his brother gave him an inquiring glance.

“Because Mother loves you best,” he went on, “and I guess, I wanted to win her affection. For once.”

What met his quiet admission was not indignation as he’d expected, but a bemusement, so deep that it left Tahoumaru feeling mortified at his own words. But it was true, despite what everyone said. Every time Brother was with her, Mother always smiled brighter, her laugh ringing louder, but whenever Tahoumaru did something more spectacular, he rarely saw her break into that radiant beam. Maybe, with this gift, his mother would smile at him.

“Mother loves you. You know that, right?”

He knew, but sometimes, he wondered if he really did.

“I’ll never steal her away from you.“

A lump formed at the back of his throat. The firefly fluttered its wings, its glow warm and reassuring. As if trying to say, you’ll be alright. It flew out of his grasp, joining its friends in their dance with the wind.

Hyakkimaru rose to his feet and held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s get you some of those fireflies.”

Tahoumaru met that ever open, ever inviting gaze. His brother was always here, always ready to lend a hand. Tahoumaru found himself nodding, his face breaking into a slow grin. He grabbed Hyakkimaru’s hand and let his brother help him to his feet.

Around the stream, the fireflies bobbed in the air, their lights blinking in and out in alternate turns. Like their own personal sea of golden stars, guiding their way home.

***

Smoke coated the air, the fumes suffocating him. Tahoumaru blinked open his eyes at the sight of his burning home. Pain, dark and searing, spread from the back of his head. From the moment he gouged the demon’s eyes from their sockets, a pulsing ache had split his skull in two. From somewhere in the fire, someone screamed, raw and feral. It cut right through his heart.

Brother.

The figure doubled over, so far beyond the mawing gap on the floor. So far… that Tahoumaru couldn’t reach him.

Brother!

Hyakkimaru held onto his eyes, screeching. He looked so small in that tattered robe, his long jet-black hair framing his face. The wooden beams above him cracked. Tahoumaru moved.

“Bro… ther…”

His vision swam. His knees buckled. Tahoumaru fell face-first onto the wooden floor stained with blood.

Go… Brother…

~ END ~

The Future They Dreamed Of

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Word Count:1500

Rating:G

Summary: Set before Corel burned down, Barret and Dyne talk about the future and how Mako would affect their lives.

Note: A piece I wrote for @barretzine! I explored how Barret’s life had been before his town burned to ash.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

That afternoon, the sky bled red. Barret hoisted his bag over his shoulder while he waited for Dyne outside the miners’ break room. Faint construction sounds reached his ear. On the other side of the mountain, the Shinra Company was building a Mako Reactor. Gone was the age of coal; Mako would lead them to the new world.

“Heard it’ll be finished soon.”

Dyne stepped out with his bag slung over one shoulder. His narrowed eyes gazed past the cliffs standing between their coal mine and the construction site. Ever since Shinra came and proposed the idea, he’d never been too keen on it, saying that coal had sustained their livelihood since their fathers’ days, it was unnatural to have it any other way.

With the townspeople on board with this new energy source, Dyne hadn’t voiced his objections since. However, Barret would catch glimpses of it underneath the cracks of his otherwise calm demeanor. Like how it showed again now in the hard lines of his gaze and his furrowing brows. But Dyne only shrugged, then wordlessly treaded down the mountainside path back toward the town. Barret quickly joined his side.

“Time’s changed, Dyne. No one uses coal anymore. Say we mine them, what then? You know as well as everybody else the town’s been struggling because of that.”

Dyne offered nothing but quiet nods. It was like a broken record—this discussion. Barret had lost count how many times they’d had it in the past year and a half. He’d offer all kinds of arguments, but nothing he said could deter Dyne from his belief.

Above the western peaks, the last of the sun’s golden streaks drew his attention. They fought against the approaching dusk, shining over his little town cradled in the valley below. He spotted his humble home, off to the side near the edge of the town, with smoke rising from the chimney as his wife cooked dinner for the night.

Barret swallowed his sigh. “With Mako, everything would be better. We’d have profitable jobs. The town’s gonna prosper. Our livelihood’d be secured.” And Myrna, he thought. Maybe he could finally earn enough to get the medicine his wife needed.

Beside him, Dyne broke into a rueful smile.

“Well, if that’s not convincing enough for you, just imagine what the future would look like. Our little town, all sparkly and bright like they say Midgar is. Don’t you want little Marlene to see that?”

“You sound like those Shinra people.”

The soft, amused scoff took him by surprise, though in hindsight, Barret probably should have expected it. He stared at his friend, who looked straight ahead with an unflinching gaze. The chuckle came unbidden.

“And is that wrong? Everyone’s using it nowadays.”

Dyne’s eye gave a little twitch, his jaws clenching ever so slightly. “Even if they do, doesn’t mean we gotta go with the flow.”

“What do you mean?”

“I hate that we’re just going to abandon the coal our fathers’ve protected for so long, yes, but… They say sucking out Mako would wreck the ecosystem. That it’d turn the Planet barren and lifeless.” Again, that pursing of his lips. Dyne paused on his steps and stared at the town below. Brown rooftops jutted out of what greeneries the quicksand desert offered. A hard glint flashed across his eyes. “I’d rather people say I’m stuck in the old days than turn my mountain and home into a wasteland.”

It was a quiet admission—the first Dyne had ever voiced that argument. It left Barret at a loss for words. Of course. He’d never thought about that. Or maybe he had, somewhere at the back of his mind. He’d known. All the townspeople had known. But still, they’d chosen to have the reactor if it meant having an easier life. Dyne dropped his gaze, then, slipping one hand inside his trouser pocket, moved away.

Barret watched as Dyne’s back grew ever smaller, wondering if there really was nothing he could do to ease his friend’s worries, to make him see that having the reactor would benefit them more than it’d cost them. Just as the thought entered his mind, an unfamiliar aroma tickled his nose. Purple flowers bloomed on the bushes lining their path, the petals long and thin, spreading out like stars. Barret didn’t realize he’d been staring until he felt a tap on his shoulder. Dyne had returned to his side. His eyes went wide at the sight of the flowers.

“You don’t see these here very often.” Melancholy etched his voice. He reached for a flower, plucking it by its stem. “Wonder how many would be left once the reactor starts pumping up Mako.” Another sorrow-leaden murmur. But before Barret could say anything, Dyne had already shaken himself, adjusting his bag over his shoulder as he carefully tied one end of the flower’s long stem to just beneath the petal.

“What are you doing?”

“Thought I’d make a ring for Marlene.”

A ring? The flower had indeed transformed into a crooked ring that would still be too big for Eleanor. Barret snorted.

“Too big, huh?” One corner of Dyne’s lips curled into a smirk. “What about a crown?”

“Too small.”

Dyne held the flower ring in front of him, head tilted to the side in contemplation. The melancholic tinge remained in the curve of his growing smile as he came to a decision.

“A bracelet then!” He threw a sideways glance at Barret’s towering form. “Marlene would love it, wouldn’t she?”

It had been a while since Barret saw the baby girl. With his job and helping at the construction, he hadn’t had much free time to visit Dyne’s home. But Barret tried to imagine the flower bracelet around little Marlene’s wrist, the way it would settle over her baby-soft skin. He could just see the laughter on her face as her father bent down and slipped the bracelet around her hand. He told Dyne just that, and Dyne beamed.

“Speaking of Marlene,” Dyne went on, slipping the flower ring inside his pocket and continuing on their way. “Eleanor’s inviting you all to dinner this weekend.”

Barret blinked. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s been a while since the four of us got together, and…” A little blush colored his cheeks. “We thought you could help us think of how to celebrate Marlene’s birthday.”

Another blink. “But that’s not until next year.”

“No harm in being prepared.”

Dyne finally broke into an ear-to-ear grin. Barret stared, awed at how a single thought of his daughter easily dispelled his friend’s worries. His laughter came then—a soft, breathy chuckle that slowly escalated into a hearty guffaw. A part of him wondered if he could ever be half the doting father Dyne was. He threw his arm over Dyne’s shoulders, the gesture shaking his friend to his core.

“We’re gonna throw the best party Corel had ever seen!”

He had no doubt about that—no doubt that the prosperity the reactor would give would allow them to hold the best party anyone had ever seen. His only hope was that, in time, Dyne could see that too.

***

Asters. That was what they were called. The purple flowers with petals spreading out like stars. The florist said so.

“Some people say they symbolize gentleness,” she’d said. “Others say elegance. But there’s also another meaning: afterthought.”

Who would’ve thought the flowers they’d found that day would be so fitting? Barret stood in front of a mound, a bouquet of the same purple flowers now held in his grasp. Green dotted the brown and black earth. The people of Corel had given his friend the proper burial he’d deserved.

“It’s your father, Marlene,” he said.

Marlene stood beside him, the brown in her eyes solemn as she gazed at her biological father’s grave. Ten years had passed since the town burned down.

Can you see her? Barret wanted to ask. Your baby girl’s here. Sorry it took so long to bring her.

Marlene squeezed his fingers, then stepped forward, bending down at the knees before placing her own bouquet atop the mound. He’d always wondered how she would take knowing that she had another father, and a mother, whom she’d never met. Marlene had taken it well. Though, knowing all the things she’d gone through, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. The girl had only smiled and said she’d known.

“We don’t exactly look alike,” she’d said. “But that’s alright. You’ll always be my daddy.”

Now she looked over her shoulder, a single tear rolling down her face. Marlene held out a hand in silent invitation. Around her wrist lay the bracelet of purple flowers Barret never got to see before. The weekend they’d promised to have dinner on never came.

Barret embraced the lump forming at the back of his throat, his lips parting into the gentlest smile. He joined his daughter at the mound and set the bouquet down.

What do you think, Dyne? You think I did a good job?

~ END ~

To Act the Hero

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Word Count:1199

Rating:G

Summary: After two years, Cloud is finally back in Nibelheim, but failing the SOLDIER exam has him hide his identity from the townspeople. As he leaves his mother’s home, the water tower stands imposing in front of him, reminding him or a promise he once made—a promise he now wonders how he could keep.

Note: A piece I wrote for @theclotizine! I also wrote a prequel of sort for this fic titled As Long As You’re Safe that explores how Zack accompanies Cloud to visit his mother. You can find it here.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

The stars hung low that night, a myriad of white spreading as far as the eye could see, blinking against the blue-black vastness. Cloud stepped out of his house and drew a lungful of the cool evening air: pine, mixed with a distant hint of rain, rolled down the mountain. He was home.

“Thanks for having me, Mrs. Strife.”

Zack’s voice drifted out from inside. Cloud had invited his friend over to try his mother’s cooking. It was an excuse; Zack probably knew. His mother had sent him off with such zeal that when Cloud failed his SOLDIER exam, he hadn’t had the courage to put pen on paper and inform his mother of the results. Letting her think he’d made it big in Midgar had sounded like the better option. A misconception on his part—one he’d realized after seeing the panic in his mother’s sky-blue eyes when Zack knocked on her door and mentioned Cloud’s name.

Their voices grew louder as Zack stepped over the threshold and joined his side. Cloud’s mother followed closely behind, chuckling and asking Zack to come visit again. Zack promised that he would. He gave her a quick bow, then nudged Cloud on his shoulder. Take your time, his eyes seemed to speak. Cloud didn’t get the chance to respond before his friend crossed the village toward the inn.

“Great friend you found there,” his mother commented once Zack was out of earshot.

Cloud fastened his helmet over his head and turned around to face her. Claudia Strife had been all smiles and laughter throughout dinner, talking about everything and anything with an overabundance of joy that had felt almost palpable. Even Zack had been swept up in her enthusiasm. Yet now, a quiet melancholy overshadowed that elation, reminding Cloud of how she’d embraced him tight and whispered, it’s been two years.

“Have you met everyone else?” she asked. “What about Tifa? I think she was asking about you.”

His fingers twitched at the question. No one would want to see him—a nobody kid like him with no friends. Just one of the boys who’d gone looking for a job and never came back. Not like Tifa. Everyone adored Tifa. While he was floundering in Midgar, she’d learned martial arts and become the village’s best guide. Lovely, friendly, hardworking—even his company had appreciated her efforts for keeping them safe throughout their journey to the reactor. Tifa wouldn’t want to see him.

A gentle squeeze to his shoulder brought his eyes to his mother. His heart clenched at her tender smile. She’ll understand, she seemed to say. A lump formed at the back of Cloud’s throat.

He waved goodbye and headed back to the inn. But when the door clicked shut and with his mother out of sight, his purposeful stride gradually ground to a halt. The water tower stood imposing in front of him, with its proud wooden beams and the ladder leading to the top. He’d sat there before on a cool night like tonight, legs swinging down from the ledge, as he’d waited for the girl with ebony hair and ruby eyes to appear.

When we’re older, and you’re a famous SOLDIER… if I’m ever trapped or in trouble… promise you’ll come and save me.

Back when the dream of becoming a SOLDIER was still within reach. Back when he had easily agreed to a lofty promise he now wondered how he could keep.

Cloud pursed his lips to a thin line. He dropped his gaze, then made to move, but as he did, a shuffling of feet drew his attention to the other side of the water tower. Cloud spotted a shadow leaning against the beams—a shadow he recognized so well. Tifa stood with her back to him, her round-brimmed hat hung from her neck down her back, kicking her boot against the dirt as she gazed at the star-strewn sky.

Cloud froze. The last time he saw her had been at the reactor, barring her way as she’d tried to enter. She’d huffed and pouted with hands on her hips, and Cloud had wanted to laugh at the familiar sight. But he’d stood his ground, then stood in front of her as hordes of monsters came their way. He’d meant to protect her, to act the hero, but in a twist that had only deepened his sense of failure, she had ended up protecting him.

Tifa pushed herself off the beams, jerking Cloud to attention. He should have moved—looked away before Tifa noticed him—but just as she rounded the tower and stepped out of its shadow, her eyes found his. Time slowed to a passing crawl. One moment, two… Under the moonlight, her ruby eyes widened, a small, relieved smile blossoming on her face.

“Figured it was you.” Tifa was suddenly in front of him.

Cloud blinked, startled. He took an involuntary step back.

“I was coming back from the inn and you weren’t there. Have you rested? Are you well now?”

Cloud should say something, anything, but if he spoke—

“Thanks.” Her smile grew, concern mingling with gratitude and a hint of shyness. “For protecting me.”

I’m sensing some issues here. Zack had told him that morning, after Cloud had woken up from his rest and his friend had asked about Tifa. Shouldn’t you do something?

He should, but what could he do? Cloud wasn’t the hero he had promised her he would be.

Tifa fidgeted on her feet, hands behind her back. A question seemed to brim behind her lips as she lifted a half-expectant gaze at Cloud. But when she opened her mouth, no voice came out.

“Nothing,” she said after a while, her lips parting into a weak crooked smile. She gave a little shake of her head, biting her lower lip as she cast her eyes down. Her shoulders shuddered under a faint scoff. “Zack doesn’t know him,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper. “You probably don’t either.”

Cloud drew his brows in confusion, but before he could ask what she meant, a door opened behind them. The unmistakable voice of Brian Lockhart rang out, calling for Tifa. She had to go.

“Well, glad to know you’re alright.” She turned to leave.

Wait—

“Nice talking with you.” Even though she was the one who had done all the talking.

Stop!

Her hat swayed like a pendulum behind her back. Farther and farther away she moved, his chance slipping out of his grasp. But before she disappeared—

“Hey!” He hoped his helmet masked his voice. Tifa looked back. Cloud gulped past the growing lump in his throat. “Thanks for helping me get down the mountain.”

The silence stretched for one second longer, then there it was—the smile that always made his heart skip a beat. Bright and warm, like the ones he would see when they were kids and their eyes made contact. Tifa gave a quick wave, then disappeared behind her door.

Cloud stood there, staring at the two-story building beside his house. It looked as enormous as he remembered it.

Shouldn’t you do something?

Cloud blinked back at the stars, exhaling a quiet sigh into the night. Easier said than done.

~ END ~

A New Beginning

Fandom: Studio Ghibli | Mononoke Hime

Word count:1988

Rating:G

Summary: It’s been months since the Deer God’s demise and the woods are thriving again. One evening, after a day’s work of rebuilding a new village, Ashitaka visits San in the forest as per his promise, bringing with him a meal the villagers made for her.

Note: this is a piece I wrote for @ghiblicookbook. I got to write about Princess Mononoke with dinner as the main theme.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

The forest was quiet that evening. Nothing but the sound of the hooting owl, the rustles of leaves against the breeze, and the rhythmic thudding of Yakul’s hooves against the ground. The kodamas were watching with their smiles on their white illuminated bodies, the soft clicking of their shaking heads filling his senses. It had been several months since the men tried to take the Deer God’s head, and now the woods were thriving again.

Ashitaka was on his way to San’s home, riding on his elk as it made its way over uneven ground and upturned roots. Their path lit only by the moonlight filtered in through the gaps in the dark foliage. It had been a while since he was last there. Rebuilding a new village in the mountains hadn’t been an easy task.

However, that evening, just a little after sunset, Ashitaka’s work had finished unexpectedly early, and he wanted to see how San was doing. He was leading Yakul out of the stable by the reins when Eboshi called for him.

“Are you going to see the Wolf Girl?” Eboshi asked.

“San,” Ashitaka corrected. At Eboshi’s raised brow, he repeated himself. “Her name is San.”

Eboshi cleared her throat. “Yes, San, then. Are you going to see San?”

“Yes.”

Eboshi didn’t say anything. She only turned her head and nodded over her shoulder. Toki stepped forward from behind her, carrying a box wrapped in a modest red cloth.

“Dinner,” Toki explained. “From us. To her.” A genuine smile. “You haven’t had any, right? It’s enough for two.”

“Thank you,” Ashitaka said. He took the box from her. It was heavy.

“A peace offering,” Eboshi elaborated. Ashitaka looked at her and was surprised to see the prideful lady grimacing. “I doubt she would accept it readily, but this is a start.”

I see.

Ashitaka tightened his grip on the box, feeling it weighed down with the responsibility it carried. “I will relay your message,” he promised.

Eboshi smiled. “Thank you, Ashitaka. I’m sorry for making your leisure trip into one of an envoy.”

Ashitaka laughed at that. In all honesty, he had long since felt that he was an envoy between the Ironworks people and the Forest Gods.

The line of trees fell away and the path Ashitaka treaded with Yakul opened into a hill and rocky outcrop. Up a series of boulders stacked high against each other, his elk trotted upwards to the grassy patch near the top. An opening between the rocks led to the cave where San slept at night. It was empty. No signs of fire, flint, or stone. Not even any sign of her white wolves. Only the undisturbed bed of leaves that made up the cave floor.

Ashitaka headed out to the jutting rock overlooking the mountains, wondering if he could spot San among the darkness. But there were only the clear sky and the cool night wind greeting him as he stood by the ledge.

Instead of eating her, I raised her as my own, a voice rose from the distant reaches of his memories. My poor, ugly, beautiful daughter.

Ashitaka looked up, almost expecting to see the great white wolf lounging on the boulder’s flat surface above him, her eyes filled with reproach, asking him a question he couldn’t answer. How could you help her? But the space was empty. Moro was nowhere to be found.

Ashitaka felt the weight of the wrapped box in his hands. He hadn’t been able to answer that question before; he didn’t know if he had the answer now. But he had promised Moro he would save San, and that was what he was going to do.

“Ashitaka?”

The soft call came from behind him. Ashitaka looked over his shoulder and found San emerging from the cave’s mouth. He smiled at her. “You’re back.”

“Yeah,” San replied, joining him by the ledge. “I was surprised to find Yakul outside, but here you are.” A quiet laugh. “What brings you here?”

“I promised we’d come see you whenever we can, right?” he said. “Well, we can now. And look—” Ashitaka lifted the wrapped box, “—I bring gifts.”

“Gifts?”

“The villagers made it,” he went on, making his way inside the cave. He sat down on the hard floor between the leaf bed and the cave mouth before laying down the box in front of him. Untying the knot and opening the lid, Ashitaka found a stacked food container inside, with a couple bowls, spoons, and a ladle.

“What’s that?”

“Dinner. You haven’t had any, right?” He had caught sight of the fruits, berries, and some plants in San’s hand when she came to meet him out on the ledge.

“No, but—”

“Come on, then.” He patted the space next to him with a grin. From the scent wafting up from the container, Ashitaka knew their dinner was going to be delicious. If Eboshi really did mean to offer peace, she might have asked Toki to make this especially good.

He used the wrapping cloth as a mat and set the container over them. A bowl and a spoon would mean some sort of soup or congee, but the strong scent of spice coming from the top lid meant there was grilled meat. Beef? Lamb? Or maybe just chicken?

Ashitaka uncovered the top lid and indeed, what he found were skewered meat set neatly in a stacked row. It looked like they had packed in at least thirty skewers. The second container beneath it held what looked to be congee. The rich smell teased his nostrils, pulling his lips into a small smile.

He grabbed the ladle from the box and stirred the congee. There were eggs too, and he could barely smell the pork stock Toki had used. He ladled the congee into each bowl before setting them down on either side.

He then grabbed one of the skewers and took a bite. Lamb meat, it seemed—so soft and juicy as it melted in his mouth. A hint of saltiness, but the spice tasted more prominent. Ashitaka smiled, looking up to his friend still standing by the cave’s mouth. “Try them,” he said, holding the skewer up.

San stared at it, then at the dishes, and shook her head and took a step back. “I’m not touching that.”

“Wh—” Ashitaka gulped down his lamb, “—why?”

“It smells weird. And it looks weird. And did you say it was from the villagers?” San shook her head again. “I’m not eating that.”

Ashitaka sighed. “San—” he began.

“No, Ashitaka!”

“But they’re delicious.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’re missing a lot.”

San scowled. She made her point by plopping herself down on the ground and took a large bite off whatever edible root she had brought back from her foraging.

Ashitaka pursed his lips. This was not going how he had wanted it to. Yes, he knew San wouldn’t receive it gladly, but he’d thought if he had omitted Eboshi’s name, she would at least sit down and try some of these. But she didn’t even give him the chance to explain, and Ashitaka saw no way he could let her know about the peace offering.

He looked at the lamb skewer in his hand then glanced up at San, still stubbornly chewing her root, refusing to meet his eyes. He sighed, letting his hand drop to his lap.

“I was going to say that Eboshi wishes to offer peace,” he began. He noticed a stiffening in her shoulders, the way her eyes flitted to him for a fraction of a second and the pause in her bite. He smiled a soft self-deprecating smile. “She knew you wouldn’t accept it readily.”

“Then why bother?”

“Because it’s a start.” Toward peace, and a new beginning. San leveled her gaze at him for a few more moments before pointedly looking away.

Ashitaka waited for one heartbeat, then another, and said, “You really won’t try some? It’s really good.” He took another bite off the lamb. It really was delicious. Toki and the women had probably gone above and beyond to make this.

San plopped a purple berry into her mouth with a huff.

Ashitaka stared at her, before quietly saying, “Moro asked me to look after you.”

That did it, as he knew it would. The mention of Moro’s name was like a hammer breaking through her strong façade. The flash in her eyes as she glared at him—at least she kept her gaze locked with his. And then he saw it, the slight crumbling of her resolve, as she muttered, “That’s not fair.” With a shuddering breath, San drew a long sigh, and went over to sit next to him.

Ashitaka couldn’t help the beam on his face. He grabbed her bowl and held it out to her. “Here, try this.”

“Whatis this?” she asked, scrunching her face. She took a sniff, then immediately pulled back with a frown and a shake of her head. Ashitaka laughed. If that were enough to repulse her, he wondered how she would react to the lamb’s strong flavor and scent.

“It’s called congee, and it really warms you up.”

She met his gaze again, and he nodded at her encouragingly. He showed her how to use the spoon, and she did as she was told, albeit clumsily. She brought the gruel to her mouth, barely touching the spoon to her lips. A moment’s pause, her tongue lapping at her lips, before she gulped the congee down.

Ashitaka waited with bated breath.

“It’s…good.” Her voice soft, she scooped another spoonful of the dish and ate it without question. Her face broke into a small smile. “It’s really good. What is this—egg?” She ate the entire egg in one go.

“Try this next.” He grabbed one skewer from the container and handed it to her.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Lamb skewers.”

“Lamb?” Her eyes narrowed at it. “It’s burned.”

“It’sgrilled, San,” Ashitaka replied with a laugh. “We cook our meat before eating it.”

She gave a noncommittal grunt, but she put her bowl down and grabbed the skewer from him. She eyed it skeptically, took a sniff, and scrunched her nose. “It smells even weirder.” Ashitaka chuckled at that.

San took an experimental bite off the top cube, her jaws moving slowly. She puckered her face, trying get the meat down her throat.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” he asked, watching her closely.

San swiped her tongue against her mouth before eyeing the lamb again and took another bite. She seemed to have an easier time digesting it now, the grimace on her face transforming into an uncertain frown. “It’s all right, I guess. It tastes…good, but the meat’s not juicy.”

The comment left him dumbstruck. He hadn’t expected it at all. When it finally registered in his mind, bone-shaking laughter overcame him, and San had to pause eating and stare at him. Of course, if he thought about it, the meat wouldn’t be juicy enough for someone who had never eaten anything cooked.

“This doesn’t mean I accept her apology, okay?” she said with a frown. “I’m only eating the food youbrought me. I trust you. I don’t trust her.”

“I know, I know,” Ashitaka said, brushing the tears away from his eyes. “She knows that too.”

“Good then.” A short, clipped answer. San went back to her lamb and took her third bite without any difficulty.

It was hard to keep himself from smiling because this was the girl who had been so adamant on hating humans and the human life, and yet now he was watching her eat human foods with such joy on her face.

“Want me to teach you how to make them? It’s not hard.”

San glanced at him, and there was a small smile on her face as she said, “I’ll think about it.”

~ END ~

Of Love and Long-Lasting Connections

Fandom: Persona 4

Word Count:2982

Rating:G

Summary: Yu’s leaving in a few weeks, and Rise wishes she could tell him her feelings.

Note: Another piece I wrote for @thezinearcana that also focuses on love confessions and flower languages

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

“These are so pretty!” Rise squealed.

It was the weekend and Rise was in Okina City when she spotted a cute little florist on the side of the street. A variety of colorful plants in pots, vases, and boxes stood on display—the pinks and reds and yellows, purples and blues and greens all giving off sweet scents.

Rise crouched down in front of them. Should she bring some back for her grandmother? It’d be nice to liven up the place. Though, maybe not at the tofu shop. The house? She could decorate the living room, or maybe the veranda. She could place them in her room if her grandmother didn’t want them in the house.

As her eyes scanned the various flowers on display, Rise found a cluster of blue ones by her feet. Potted plants, ready to take home. She absently reached over and stroked the small petals.

“Do you like them?” a voice came from above her. A man stood there, just a little to the side, wearing the amicable smile of a salesperson. She noticed the name of the shop on his apron. “Forget-me-nots,” he went on. “A flower of remembrance, they say. Of long-lasting connections.”

Rise smiled, wistful. She knew, though there was one other meaning that made her romantic self long to give them to that boy a year older than her—true love. Maybe he would finally realize her feelings for him.

“Would you like to get them, miss?”

Rise shook her head, rising from her crouch and dusting off her clothes. Turning to the shopkeeper with a bright smile of her own, she said, “I’m looking for something that’ll brighten up a room.”

***

A small bouquet of sunflowers now nestled between her hands as she made her way to the station, their long yellow petals bright under the light of the setting sun. Here, the florist had said. They’ll brighten your day. Had it been that obvious that she was feeling melancholic? She looked down to find the flowers staring back, as though trying to give her an answer. Her lips parted into a smile.

Maybe they really did have magic.

Rise brought the flowers to her face and inhaled the sweet scent. Her grandmother would love these.

“Rise?”

Rise looked up and saw a certain upperclassman with steel gray hair not six steps in front of her. “Y—Yu-senpai?!” Rise couldn’t keep the squeak out of her voice.

Yu smiled at her and she felt more heat creeping up her face.

“Are you here alone?” he asked.

Rise nodded. She waved her sunflower bouquet in front of him. “Bought some flowers for grandma,” she said, and then she looked at him, half-expecting to find the other boys coming up from behind, yelling at him to wait, but there was no one else. Yu was alone.

“What about you, Senpai?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”

A slight pause and a distinct scratch to the back of his neck before he said, “Just some things.” Yu averted his eyes, suddenly finding an interesting spot at a nearby store awning.

Rise blinked, feeling her grin widening at his obvious fluster. “Are you hiding something, Senpai?” she asked. Closing the distance between them, she peered up at his face.

Yu’s dark gray eyes captured her. She noticed the widening of his pupils and realized how close they were. She could almost see her reflections in them, grinning mischievously. And maybe she was being mischievous, probing him with questions she knew would get her farther away from hearing what she wanted. That no, he wasn’t on a date, that she was being ridiculous for even thinking so, that she didn’t have anything to worry about because he had always known how she felt and had always felt the same way. He would never forget about her.

Yu didn’t back away, and neither did she. She could almost feel his breath, smell the scent of pine trees on his clothes. A clearing of his throat brought her back to the present and Rise blinked, leaning back on her heels.

“Are you going home?” he asked. She nodded and he smiled. “Wanna go home together?”

She had thought he would only accompany her throughout the train ride to Inaba, but Yu insisted on walking her all the way to her, even after she told him he didn’t have to. It was a wonder how Rise managed to keep her emotion in check throughout their long walk—her face kept threatening to smile. So she talked about anything and everything to distract herself while he listened. But what started as a light conversation about their days gradually moved closer to the topic of their school, and when they talked about school, it naturally led to talks about their friends, and finally to his transfer.

Rise went quiet. Yu would leave once the semester ended. They only had a couple more weeks.

Just tell him how you feel, Chie had told her.

Easier said than done. How many times had she told him how she felt over the course of the year? How many times had she teased him, hinted that what she felt was real? Yu had never taken them seriously. What difference would it make now?

“Here we are.” His soft voice drew her out of her thoughts and the dark storefront of the Marukyu Tofu Shop stood before her.

“Well,” Yu half-turned, giving her one of those easy smiles, “Bye—”

“Senpai!”

Her voice was too loud, echoing off the pavement in the darkness, surprising even herself. When she looked, Yu was staring at her, eyes wide in surprise.

Be genuine, Yukiko had said.

Rise opened her mouth—

—only for the words to fail her.

Yu tilted his head to the side. “What is it?”

Night had fallen. The dim lights of the streetlamps lit his face in a way that made him seem to glow. The soft bangs falling over his forehead. His strong, high cheekbones. He was too beautiful to her, too precious. She didn’t want him to leave.

Her cheeks strained in what she hoped was her best smile. “Be safe on your way home, Senpai.”

He stared at her, brow creasing for a fraction of a second, but he didn’t pry, and after a while, he said, “It was nice seeing you again, Rise.” Rise blinked. He smiled a wistful smile and she realized this was the first time they had seen each other in a while. A lump formed at the back of her throat.

Yu lingered before he bid her goodbye, just a moment too long, like how her fans wouldn’t leave before she left. But Yu wasn’t like any of her fans, and these little gestures were the things that made her hope for the what-ifs and maybes.

***

Rise watched until Yu’s back was engulfed by the night before she trudged inside her home. Her grandmother came out of the kitchen by the time she had reached the living room, placing her sunflowers in a glass vase and filling it with water. When her grandmother saw it, she beamed. “That’s lovely, Rise.”

Rise smiled, placing the vase on a table at the corner, between the window and TV. “You don’t mind me placing it here?”

“No, not at all.” A shuffle of feet and a moment later, her grandmother joined her by her side. Silence fell as Rise watched her gently caress the soft yellow petals. But then her grandmother asked, “Narukami-kun, was it?” and Rise’s heart, which had begun to find its peace again, jumped at the name. “I heard he’s leaving soon. Is it true?”

She froze.

Thoughts of his transfer had plagued her for weeks. Everyone was sad knowing he would leave, but every time Rise saw Yu walk down the school corridor or waved at her from across the street, she couldn’t stop her heart from constricting in pain and after a while, she found it easier to just avoid him. It had gotten so bad that her usually cheerful self turned pensive every time she joined the others for Yu’s farewell party preparation.

A soft touch to her hand—her grandmother smiled at her, soft and gentle, as if she knew, despite never saying anything.

“It’ll be all right,” her grandmother murmured.

Rise heard the crack before she felt it—a painful gash deep within her heart—and tears sprang to her eyes. She desperately tried to blink them away. She would not cry. She’d told herself not to cry. But her hands began to shake and the effort to keep her emotions repressed seemed insurmountable.

Her grandmother drew her into her arms, strong and warm. A single sob escaped her lips, shaking her to her core, and any resolve Rise had to stay strong fell apart.

There, there, her grandmother whispered. It’ll be all right. She patted her shoulder and whispered soothing words to her ear, while Rise clutched at her back, the tears she had been holding back for weeks streaming down her cheeks one by one.

***

It gave her a catharsis she didn’t realize she needed. Rise didn’t know how long she stayed with her head on her grandmother’s lap, long after her crying ended and she stared into space. It reminded her of the times when she was younger, when her grandmother would hum a lullaby or tell her a story, patting her shoulder to lull her to sleep.

It gave her peace, and courage.

“Don’t dwell, Rise,” her grandmother said. “Even though he’s leaving, that doesn’t mean you can’t see him again, right?”

Rise stared at her grandmother, blinking away the stray tears from her eyes. Her grandmother was right. Why had she never realized that? Of course, her heart was still heavy every time she thought of Yu leaving, but when Chie and Yukiko got everyone together to prepare for the farewell party, Rise found herself smiling more, and laughing more, that Chie even noted that she seemed happier lately.

However, even as Rise slowly found a state of acceptance, when her phone rang early on the next weekend and Yu’s name flashed across the screen, her heart leaped into her throat, caught between excitement and apprehensiveness. She picked it up before the first ring ended.

“Hello?”

“Are you home?” His voice sounded soft and slightly husky to her ear. A smile spread across her face.

“Yeah.”

“Are you free?”

She checked the clock on the wall. It was 8 AM. She promised her grandmother she would tend the store later because her grandmother wanted to visit an ailing neighbor. “I need to tend the store around ten.”

A pause. “Okay,” she heard him say. “Can you be ready in fifteen minutes?”

“What?”

He chuckled. “See you then.”

The call barely began when it ended and Rise watched as her phone screen went dark. See you then? She let the short conversation sink in.

Did he just ask her out on a date?

Rise laughed at herself, even as she pushed herself to her feet and went to her room with a little spring in her step

It wasn’t a date, she thought, opening her drawer and grabbing a change of clothes: a pair of jeans and a warm fluffy white turtleneck.

The others would probably meet them somewhere, she told herself as she pulled her hair back into its twin tails and clipped them into place.

Rise was putting on her jacket when she heard the unmistakable sound of a motor engine approaching her house. Her grandmother was calling for her by the time she reached the front door. Yu was standing there, his breath clouding over from the chill in the air, smiling at her approach.

“Are you going somewhere?” her grandmother asked as Rise kissed her on the cheeks in goodbye.

“I’ll be back before ten,” was all she said before waving her hand and following Yu out the door. She thought they were only going to someplace near, but Yu’s scooter waited outside and Rise had to think otherwise.

“Where are we going exactly?” she asked, catching the spare helmet Yu tossed to her.

Yu’s reply was only a grin. “You’ll see.”

***

Wind whipped at her as Yu sped his scooter up the path to the mountains. Past the hilltop overlooking the town and farther still, until the smooth asphalt turned to gravel and dirt, and the trees turned to pine. Inaba was a small quiet town, where everyone knew everyone else, and you rarely heard any cars zooming past. But there was an underlying bustle different from the city that Rise only realized as Yu brought her deeper into the mountain. This was a sort of quiet she hadn’t experienced before, not when her life in Tokyo had consisted of her, her agency, and her fans.

Rise had her arms wrapped around his waist since he told her to hang tight when he started the engine, and being like this, this close, in a world where there was only him and her and the soaring trees and distant birds, Rise didn’t want this to end. She lay her head against his warm back and breathed his scent. Pine trees and winter. Rise surreptitiously tightened her arms around him. She wished he wouldn’t leave.

They reached their destination a little after they entered the mountains. At a split on the road, Yu took the path that veered off the main, leading them to a narrow and unstable one between trees and he had to slow down. The trees slowly gave away, until finally she finally saw a break up ahead.

“Where are we?” Rise asked, getting off his scooter and taking her helmet off.

Yu answered with a smile and an offering of his hand. It was such an offhanded gesture, so natural he didn’t seem to have put much thought behind it. Yet her heart still soared, even as she told herself not to think too much of it. She took his hand, hiding a smile threatening to break free, and let him lead her past the break in the trees.

Sunlight blinded her for the first couple moments, her hand reaching up to cover her eyes. The wind felt stronger here, the air chillier. A shiver ran down her spine. Rise regretted she hadn’t brought a scarf or worn a warmer jacket.

Yu let out a quiet breath. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

She adjusted her eyes to the light as she slowly brought her hand down. The sun hung low from a clear, cloudless sky. She could feel its heat slowly seeping into her bones. There were no trees or buildings anywhere in sight, just the open sky and a vast rolling hill, stretching as far as her eyes could see.

Rise blinked in astonishment. Small flowers, ones she had seen in the pots at the florist ready to take home, dotted the pale green field in clusters of azure blue. She let out a quiet gasp.

“The jeweler told me about this,” Yu went on. “A flower field in the Inaba mountains, where the flowers would often bloom a little early.” He chuckled under his breath. “He’s right.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said. She felt a gentle squeeze on her hand and she looked down, only realizing that their hands were still linked. Rise giggled to herself. “This feels like a date.”

“Thisis a date,” Yu replied with a chuckle.

Rise went still. She looked up from their hands and found Yu’s gray eyes already gazing at her with that softness that made her heart skip a beat.

“Here.” He rummaged in his jacket pocket and withdrew a small blue box. “I bought this for you.”

Rise blinked in surprise. She accepted the gift with trembling hands, her heart throbbing in her chest. Part of her waited for the gag, for Yosuke or Teddie or anyone to appear from behind the trees and shout surprise! But no one came, and it was just her and him and the field of blue flowers.

“Open it.”

She did. Inside was a necklace—a small blue flower linked to a silver chain. Tears burned at the back of her eyes and she tried so hard to stop it. She wanted him to see her smile, because she was happy and her heart was full and he gave her a gift she had never expected to receive.

The first tear rolled down her cheek, and Yu’s hand was already there to wipe it away.

“I wanted to buy you a bouquet.” Her voice came out as a whisper and she struggled to keep it steady. “That day I bought flowers for my grandma, I wanted to buy you a forget-me-not bouquet. I wanted to tell you I love you, and ask you not to forget me even after you leave.”

Yu slowly took her hand in his and squeezed. “That day we met in Okina City? I was coming back from the jeweler when you suddenly appeared in front of me,” he said with a soft chuckle under his breath. “I was out of my mind with worry. I wanted to surprise you.” Rise choked back on a sob, caught between a laugh and a cry. She met his gaze and saw a fondness in his smile she would not forget. “Sorry it took me so long to give you a proper reply.”

Rise blinked away the tears blurring her eyes and laughed like she had never laughed before. She threw her arms around him on instinct and smiled to his chest. “Do you know what the flowers mean, Senpai?”

His arms went around her, drawing her close, enveloping her in a warmth that drove away the coldness of the morning air. “Of course,” he murmured with a soft touch of his lips against her hair that only made her smile grow. “I love you, Rise.”

~ END ~

A Flower Just For You

Fandom: Persona 5

Word Count:2988

Rating:G

Summary: Ann has been receiving flowers in her shoe locker for the past few weeks and she couldn’t help but hope that they’re from Ren.

Note: This is a piece I wrote for @thezinearcana, focusing on love confessions and flower languages.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

Ann froze at the sight of a single white flower in her shoe locker that afternoon. This was the third time she had received it, and like its predecessors, it had neither name nor note attached to it.

A pair of familiar voices rose above the hum of conversation at the school’s entrance hall. They sounded close—too close—and before she could think, Ann slammed her locker shut so hard the people around her jumped in surprise. She hoped they hadn’t noticed. But as her heart thundered in her chest, Ann noticed they’d gone quiet.

The silence was deafening.

“What’s wrong, Ann?” Ryuji asked.

“Nothing—” Ann half-turned, one hand still on her locker. But her voice sounded unnaturally high, and she barely stopped herself from grimacing.

Ryuji broke into a grin. “You’re hiding something,” he said, stalking towards her with hands in his pockets, his grin grew wide at her obvious discomfort. “A love letter?”

A joke. It was a joke. But the thought hit too close that Ann was caught between a stutter and a scoff. She willed her face not to go red even as her pulse picked up its speed. “Are you stupid?”

“Then what’s—”

“Ryuji,” Ren called from the other end of the locker, where he was changing his indoor shoes for his outdoor ones. “Ogikubo.”

A single word. That was all it took to make Ryuji huff and shuffle toward his own locker. “Aren’t you curious?” she heard him say. Ren only shrugged.

Her heart still drummed in her ears when Ren closed his locker and turned around. Ann didn’t realize she was staring until their eyes met. He offered her a smile that pulled at her heartstrings and Ann hoped her face didn’t betray her emotions.

“See you tomorrow,” he said with a wave of his hand before nudging Ryuji on the shoulder and nodded toward the doorway. Ryuji looked back only to give her a small nod of farewell, then joined his friend who had gone out ahead of him.

***

“Maybe it really is from Ren,” Shiho said on the phone later that night. Her friend was the only one who knew about the flowers.

Ann scoffed, turning to her side on her bed. “Haven’t we ruled him out of the potential suspects?”

“Don’t call them suspects,” Shiho said, laughing.

Ann shrugged. “They could be a mistake. Or even a prank.” She could imagine it—Ryuji coming up with such an elaborate joke. Though maybe he wouldn’t have thought of using flowers?

“Then why do you keep bringing them home?”

On instinct, Ann looked up at her desk, where three white flowers stood in a glass vase a little to the corner by the window, where they would get a lot of sunlight in the day. The corners of her lips quirked up. Dark green leaves beneath layers of voluminous white petals. Like a rose, but not exactly a rose. Beautiful.

Whydid she bring them home? Because she felt sorry? With no name and no note, Ann couldn’t know for sure they were for her. She couldn’t return them nor could she give them to their true recipients.

“Anyway,” she went on, “It couldn’t be Ren. He wasn’t even interested in it.”

Shiho’s voice seemed to be caught between a sigh and a laugh. “If he’s not the least bit interested, that can mean two things: either he’s not interested in you, or he’s the one who sent it to you.”

“Or he’s just being respectful.”

Shiho sighed. “Ann—” she began, but whatever she was going to say was cut short, because Ann could hear a distant voice calling for her friend and Shiho answered it with a, “Be right there, Mom!” She had to leave. “Don’t think too much about it, Ann,” she said.

The call ended. Ann stared at the blank screen for several silent moments before letting the phone fall onto her bed. A soft sigh escaped her lips. Maybe Shiho was right. It’s not that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind but admitting it could mean her loss. They had only known each other for several months, but they were friends and they were comrades. She knew for sure Ren had never seen her like that.

As though summoned by her thoughts, her phone beeped. She looked to see a text notification from Ren and paused, staring at the name for a few more moments before the realization finally hit her and she sat up straight, her heartbeat skyrocketing.

‘You owe me one.’

Ann stared at the message, then carefully typed, ‘What do you mean?’

His reply came not even a minute later. ‘The love letter.’

Her heart constricted. It was one thing when Ryuji said it, but when those words came from Ren—

‘It’s not a love letter!’

‘Then what is it?’

It’s…

Ann paused, then deleted the word. What could she say? That they were flowers? That was the same as admitting the love letter.

‘What,’she paused, then braced herself as she added, ‘Are you jealous?’

‘Pfft! Jealous? Me?’

The reply didn’t come as quick as before, but still, her heart stung. See, she wanted to tell Shiho. It couldn’t be from Ren. Ann wanted to laugh at herself for even thinking otherwise.

However, just as Ann was typing her reply, another message came. ‘Do you want me to be?’

Ann’s fingers jerked to a stop. She waited a moment, then another, but Ren didn’t say anything else, and neither did she.

Ann didn’t know what to say. Her brain had stopped working at all the implications his question could have and it made her heart race. She could just picture it—him lying on his bed in the cluttered attic that was his room, holding his phone up above his head, waiting for her reply.

She almost told herself to throw the phone and forget the conversation ever existed. She almost convinced herself that he was joking, that she was thinking too much and she should hurry and say something before he thought she was taking things too seriously and he’d feel bad and she’d be embarrassed and—

Her phone beeped again. Ann looked at the screen. A new message had appeared. ‘Sorry, that was a joke.’

That was a joke. She should have known. But her jaws were tense, and her fingers clutched her phone so tight her knuckles went white. Ann drew a breath and loosened her muscles, gulping air past the lump in her throat.

It was a joke.

But why did her heart clench so painfully?

***

The idea came to her in the middle of the night. If she didn’t know who it’s from, Ann could just catch the culprit in the act. She set out to stake out her locker the next day. She’d hide behind the wall around the corner, with bread on one hand and her phone on the other, scrolling through it while occasionally glancing up to spot if anyone had gotten near her shoe locker at all.

No one appeared during lunch break. She decided she could extend her mission to the hours after school, but even then, no one went anywhere near her locker or lingered long enough to have slipped something inside. They couldn’t have put the flower inside in the early mornings, could they? Ann would have found the flowers when she came to school. But all this while, she had only found them after school was over.

“You’re here early,” Ren said one morning before class started. Outside, clouds that had gathered since early morning had broken and rain was drizzling. With her head on her table, the hum of conversation in the background, complete with a chill in the air and the fact that she had woken up an hour earlier, had lulled her into sleep, woken up only by the sound of Ren’s voice and the scrap of chair against tile.

Ann gave a noncommittal grunt as she sat up straight and stifled a yawn.

“Didn’t get enough sleep?”

She didn’t. She couldn’t get her mind off the flowers that she only fell asleep after midnight. Shiho had said Ann was being too obsessed. “Doesn’t it make your heart flutter, though?” her friend had asked last night.

It did. Her heart fluttered every time she saw them, thinking that someone out there thought of her enough to give her flowers. No one had done that before. Yet that’s exactly why she hated it.

“What happened with the love letter?” Ren suddenly asked.

Her eyes ablaze, Ann whipped her head around and hissed, “It’s not a love letter!”

“Sorry.” Ren raised his hands and backed away, as far as the back of his seat allowed him. “Just that you’ve been hanging around your locker a lot recently—” He paused, his gray eyes narrowing. “Don’t tell me—did you stake out your locker this morning?”

Ann pursed her lips and looked away. She heard a quiet snort and glared up at him. “Sorry,” Ren muttered, averting his gaze, finding purchase at something on his lap.

Ann stared at him for a couple moments before leaning her back against the window.

“It’s not a love letter,” she began, her voice soft. Gaze locked on the cuticles of her nails, she fisted her hands and braced herself. “It’s a flower. That time you saw me was the third.”

She waited for the snort, or the laughter, or any sort of teasing remark or jibe. But none of them came. Only silence. And silence was worse, because it spoke more volume than if he had pestered her like Ryuji.

Ann sneaked a glance from the corner of her eyes and found a perfectly schooled poker face. She scowled. “Forget it—”

“But isn’t that good?” Ren asked just as she turned around to face forward again. Ann’s fingers twitched. That confirmed it, then: Ren wasn’t interested in her at all. The flowers were definitely not from him.

She grabbed her books from her bag. Class would start soon.

“I guess it’s not.” She felt his eyes on the back of her head, but Ann didn’t feel like meeting them.

“You’re not happy with them?” There was a quietness to his voice that made her pause, that made her think twice again and again that maybe she was wrong and Shiho was right, no matter how many times Ann was proven right.

Ann sighed. No more.

“I am,” she quietly said.

“Then…?”

Ann let the question hang. The bell rang not a moment later and everyone took their seats. All throughout class, Ann would feel his eyes on her, a lingering glance when her name was called, or a look when she stood up to get something for lunch. He never said anything. She never gave him the chance to.

***

After school, the dark clouds plaguing the day finally parted. Ann didn’t feel like scouting her locker anymore, so she headed home, without much thought of it. Maybe Shiho was right. She should just be happy for receiving the flowers. But if they weren’t from Ren, Ann saw no point in getting happy over it anymore.

Light glistened on the trees and the puddles on the pavement. On her way to the subway, she noticed a little store just off to the side, with potted flowers and plants at the front. Ann stopped in front of it. The lingering scent of rain made the flowers smell stronger and sweeter, and before she knew it, her feet had already led her past the boxes and through the door at the center.

A bell jingled overhead. A woman in a blue shirt looked up from the cash register counter with a smile. “Can I help you?” the florist asked.

Ann looked around. More flowers lined the walls in pots or vases or stacked on shelves—roses, lilies, and hydrangeas to name a few. The florist came over to her just as Ann’s eyes fell on a vase of white flowers—the same ones she now kept in her room.

“What are those?” she asked.

The florist followed her line of sight and a bright smile spread across her face. “Gardenias,” she said. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” She plucked a few and held them out to Ann. “They’re lovely and elegant, perfect to give someone you love.”

Someone you love.

Ann smelled the flowers. A sweet fragrance filled her nose. Yes, these were the same ones. Gardenias.

“Did you know?” the florist went on. “These flowers also mean secret love.” That took her off guard. The florist met her surprised look with a knowing smile. “Long ago, when people used flowers to convey messages, they would often give gardenias whenever they wanted to express their love but still remain anonymous. Romantic, isn’t it?”

It was. And it was too similar with her own situation that it rendered Ann speechless.

“It’s been gaining popularity, too,” the florist added. No wonder, if she had told that story to every customer who came here.

Then again, maybe Ann shouldn’t have been surprised. Whoever had given her those flowers had probably fallen into the florist’s marketing ploy. She felt sorry for the guy. Not only did she have to turn him down, he would have spent his money in vain.

The store bell jingled again, and the florist looked up. “Ah! Amamiya-kun!”

Ann froze as the florist left her side. “Another gardenia?” she asked her new customer. “Or are you finally getting her a bouquet?”

The laughter that followed was indeed Ren’s. Ann couldn’t bring herself to turn around. All sorts of thoughts occupied her mind, trying to figure out what brought Ren to a small florist like this. But then he said, “Another gardenia, please,” and Ann stopped thinking.

The florist chuckled. “Send her some bouquet some time. She’d love it.” A shuffle of feet—the florist headed towards her, where the gardenias were.

A soft laugh. “Yeah, well…” Ren’s voice trailed off. Ann felt the moment his eyes found her. She could almost hear his intake of breath, caught on a secret she shouldn’t know. The silence seemed to stretch for a lifetime, and when he finally spoke her name, his voice quiet and hesitant, it was as though a spell was lifted.

She really shouldn’t have come here.

Placing the flowers on the nearest surface she could find, Ann kept her head down as she quickly made her way out, thanking the confused florist on her way. She ducked past Ren without looking up, then, once she was outside, sprinted as fast as she could to wherever her feet carried her.

Her face burned. Her heart raced. Blood pumped in her veins as she pushed herself farther and farther away from the flower shop at the side of the road.

“Ann!” came the dreaded voice, strained and out of breath. Ren pulled her to a stop, hand gripping her arm. “Ann, wait, let me explain—”

A glimpse of a scene, in middle school. A boy told her he liked her due to a dare between friends.

“Was it a joke?”

“What?”

She didn’t care what the flowers meant anymore. She only wished they were genuine, and not an effort to mess with her feelings. Because she liked him. She liked Ren.

“Was it a joke to you?”

Ann waited for an answer, but it never came. Maybe she was right. Maybe it wasa joke. Who was she kidding? There was no way Ren would—

“Did you think it was a joke?”

She had expected him to scoff, and to smirk, to let go of her arm and said sorry, my friends made me to.But his voice was devoid of any emotions, and it struck her harder than any jeer he could have thrown at her.

His grip around her arm tightened for a fraction of a second, before he let her go, and sighed. Ann finally looked up, and the look on Ren’s face was enough to break her heart.

“I didn’t want you to know,” he began to say. “I didn’t think you needed to. You looked so happy when you first got it, I thought it was okay if I stayed anonymous.” He paused, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his head as he looked away, eyes finding purchase on a tree or a passing cloud.

Ann let his words sink in, feeling the knots slowly unravel in her mind. The tinge of red on his ears and his refusal to meet her eyes spoke loudly enough. Ren was being true.

Ann swallowed past a lump in her throat. “Then, if it’s not a joke, what is it?”

A self-deprecating laugh, a small awkward smile. “Do you really have to ask?”

She didn’t, apparently. Even without the words, Ren’s feelings were loud and clear. From the way he’d smile at her in such a soft and gentle way, to the way he’d look at her as though she was the only girl in the world. He had listened to her and given her his full attention. It would be a lie if Ann hadn’t felt some sort of deeper connection in her time knowing him.

And yet, it was for that precise reason that it had hurt her all the more when she thought he might have been playing with her feelings.

“I’m sorry if they were a burden,” he quietly said. “I didn’t mean to.”

And Ann believed him. Because if there was one thing she knew about Ren was that Ren would never do anything to upset his friends.

“Don’t you know why they made me happy?” she asked. He finally looked at her, and her face broke into a small smile. “The only reason I was happy, Ren, was because I hoped they were from you.” The dumbfounded look on his face was the most endearing thing she had ever seen. “I wanted it to be you.”

~ END ~