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j0elmill3r · 4 years

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Choose Life; Part Two

Bucky Barnes x Daughter!Reader

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[Part one]

Warnings; A shit ton of angst, swearing, shooting, angst, injuries, yelling, angst, no happy ending, replacement, abandonment, did I say angst? Bucky being a bit of a dick and a shitty dad, abuse? Child neglect?

A/N; There’s like a full blown reference to ‘Trainspotting’ in this, 10 points to anyone who finds it.

Word count; 2.7k

You had barely survived. If they had found you minutes later, you would be dead. The serum in your blood had kept you going for a few more hours than it would any other person, lucky you. For the first week, you were confined to your bed with all of the IV drips and other injections you were given. Bucky had visited you, trying to make conversation, which you had no intent whatsoever on joining in on. He said it himself, he wished they had left you in HYDRA, so that meant that he never wanted you. Your plan was that as soon as you could, you would get out of the compound and disappear from the grid all over again. But your plan was ruined when Bucky said they had installed brand new cameras so they could always keep an eye on you if no one was there when they were gone on missions. That pissed you off, you didn't need or want this. You didn't want or need any of this.

"Alright, we need to have this talk now. Otherwise, we'll spend the rest of our lives hating each other, and I don't want that," Bucky said. You were sitting in the common room, reading, surprisingly.

"We don't need to have any talk. You said everything you wanted when you told me how you really felt," You stood up from your spot on the couch and walked away, but Bucky grabbed your wrist gently. "If you wanna keep that hand, let me go," You warned him.

"Y/N, please, just sit the fuck down," Bucky begged. You shook your head and sat down. "Thank you,"

"So, what part do you want to talk about first? The part about you sending me back or the wishing you never found me part?" You asked him. Bucky sighed as he sat down on the couch in front of you.

"Neither of those. If we're gonna fix this relationship, we have to start all the way back at what you went through," He said. You scoffed and laughed.

"There is no 'relationship' between us to fix. You had your chance at that years ago," You told him. "And anyway, I know why you're doing this,"

"Because I care about you?" You sensed the weariness in his voice and you nodded.

"For someone with a skill set as big as yours, I wouldn't be surprised if lying wasn't in there. You're not doing this because you care, you're doing this because you're guilty," Bucky knew that you were right. He was guilty, so fucking guilty. He was guilty of choosing to be an Avenger over being there for his daughter, who had to figure out a new and scary life all by herself. He was guilty of not sitting down and addressing whatever issues you had, and not helping you with them. He was guilty, and he knew it. "And guess what, there's nothing you can say or do to change what happened,"

"But we move forward," Bucky said.

"Move fucking forward!?" You yelled. You shook in anger and tried to ignore the sting of tears in your eyes. "I can't move forward! I don't know whatever hallucinogenic drugs you're on, but you sure as hell better get off of them! How can we move forward after everything? Everything that has gone wrong with me has gone wrong because of you," You pointed at him angrily. "I asked you to talk about things with me, I tried to ask for help, but you didn't fucking care!"

"I did care!" He defended himself. You scoffed and laughed.

"You cared? If you cared, you would've asked me what was going on! You would have done what any dad would've done and talked through it, you would have gotten me help! I used to look at Peter Parker and Tony and I would be so, so fucking jealous!" You cried. You didn't even care that he could see that you were crying now.

"Why? Why were you jealous of them?" Bucky asked you carelessly. When you saw how Peter and Tony interacted, it made your heart hurt. You were in no way maliciously jealous, no, not like that. It was what you wanted from your dad, your dad that didn't give a damn about you. Peter and Tony spent more time with each other in a month than your dad ever did with you in 6 months. "I tried my hardest, Y/N. But effort goes both ways, kid!"

"I wanted a dad like that!" You yelled. "I wanted a dad that told me he was proud of me. I wanted a dad that talked to me other than the times he would tell me how much of a fuck up I was," You said.

"I never called you a fuck up, Y/N. It's called discipline," He said. You huffed out tiredly, you felt so defeated.

"You might be father, but you'll never be my dad," You said sadly. "You never were my dad anyway, you took a look at me and knew I was a lost cause. You clearly wasted your time, just choose a HYDRA base and then drop me off there," You finished.

"Y/N, please. We have to have some form of hope we can fix us," Bucky had noticed your change in attitude, your anger had disappeared and you were tired, tired of fighting.

"Hope? I ran out of hope when I was tied to that chair, and I prayed to God that you would come and save me, but you didn't. And I can't believe that it took me nearly dying for you to think to step up and finally be a dad," You stood up and left the room, leaving Bucky feeling like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest and stomped all over it. He had lost you, and it was his fault.

Your second month at the Avengers compound had flown in, you were happy to be there and away from HYDRA. But, as with anyone who came from a HYDRA background, a past with HYDRA didn't come without the nightmares. They were the worst, most times you couldn't escape them, the fear would paralyze you and leave you screaming for help in your head where no one could hear you. On the off chance, you would wake up, you went to your dad, Bucky. But at some point, it felt like he didn't care anymore. The first month, he tried to get to know you, but you weren't for opening up to anyone yet, you didn't know if you could trust these people yet. By the time your second month came around and you felt ready to open up to him, he had apparently moved on from you and didn't care for you. So you were left to adjust, all by yourself. The other members of the Avengers were convinced that Bucky was helping you, so they gave you the bare minimum. You were sat in the kitchen area of the compound, a glass of water in front of you. You heard screaming from down the hall and you turned around curiously. Within the blink of an eye, Steve and your dad came into view and both walked right past you, and went around a routine as if you weren't there.

"Dad?" You said quietly. Bucky looked up at you and flinched back, obviously startled by you being there. "Are you okay?" He ignored you and went to sit on the couch. Your heart felt like it was being pulled on. Steve looked up at you and frowned, he noticed how shaken up you looked.

"You alright kid?" He asked you. You thought about telling him, but he didn't get up at 2 in the morning to hear about your problems, so you shook your head. "You should get back to sleep, it's late,"

"I'm not tired," You grumbled. Steve sighed and put his hand on your back.

"I know, Y/N. But you're supposed to stay in your room unless it's necessary, we don't need you wandering into the pool or something and drowning," You nodded and stood up, going to your room and leaving Steve and Bucky on their own. But they weren't on their own. You on the other hand, were.

You were gone. The team came back from a mission one day and found that the cameras had been disabled and you weren't anywhere to be seen. It was as if you vanished off the face of the earth, no one had a clue where you were. Bucky couldn't help the paralyzing fear that took a grip on him, as much as you wanted to deny it, he was still your dad and he had the paternal instinct that he wouldn't be seeing you for a while, and long, long while. That was 5 years ago. Bucky's hope, much like yours, had gone. He had long accepted the fact that you were probably dead, but it didn't mean he was okay with it, far from it. The team learned of what had gone down with both of you and were less than happy with Bucky, especially Natasha and Wanda, who had been the ones to try and fix you and Bucky. Bucky understood why you left, it was him that drove you away, he had no one else to blame other than himself. No one ever saw you or found any trace of you.

"You're sure about this?" Matt asked you. Matt was your boyfriend, you met him when you were taken into the police station, only this time you had to make a run for it because your dad wasn't listed anymore. He was in the station for Grand Theft Auto, and then arson. The two of you connected and then you helped each other get out of the station. You had been with him for years, and they were the best years of your life.

"Yeah. The only person in the base should be Banner, but he's usually asleep at this point." You told him as you looked at the compound from afar. "Everyone else is gone," You confirmed. Matt nodded and then took your hand.

"Are you sure that this isn't about getting back at your dad?" He asked you. Matt knew everything, he was the only person who did. He also trusted you enough that he was willing to join the new branch of HYDRA, TAG, because you knew it would keep you both safe and covered, since every police station in New York had both of your faces and a price over your heads. You sighed and shook your head.

"I'm sure, Matty. Now, if we're ready, I'd rather we got this over with," You smiled softly and let go of his hand. For some reason, F.R.I.D.A.Y didn't rat you out when you got into the compound through the window of the room that used to be yours. You had guessed it had something to do with Bucky holding on to some sliver of hope that you would come home, but this wasn't you're home anymore, hell, it never was. You noticed that your room looked different, the walls were now a pale pink, rather than the light grey they used to be, all of your posters had been taken down and replaced with certificates and medals, making an uneasy feeling sit down in your stomach.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Matt asked you. You shook your head and focused. Your job was plain and simple, take out and Avenger to send a warning, and it was always going to be easier to do it if there was only one to take out. The bullet you had was made to kill Banner, TAG had been working on it since you and Matt approached them.

"Nothing. Come on, we should go and do this,"

"And this is my daughter, Poppy," You knew that voice, and for another thing, you knew that you didn't have a sister. They weren't all supposed to be here, not right now. But you thought you had gotten over this, but you were wrong, dead wrong. You knew you were easily replaceable, but you didn't think that your dad would replace you so quickly. "She's 15, I adopted her two years ago," You and Matt had snuck out of her room and stood behind the doorway of the common room.

"Wow, you're over Y/N quickly," Natasha piqued. Poppy frowned and sighed, making you smile. Maybe you didn't have to physically hurt the Avengers, you had to emotionally traumatize one. Bucky ignored her comment and put his arm around Poppy, making your heart tug.

"Anyway. She's enrolled in high school, and I'm so proud of her! She aced her AP Physics test with flying colours," You shook your head in anger. Matt tapped your shoulder and shook his head, telling you to stay calm, which he knew you wouldn't. Natasha smiled at Poppy as she left the room, she hadn't done anything wrong, she was just a clueless little kid who had no idea how much of a bad person her adoptive father really was.

"Dad, who's Y/N? People keep saying her name and I don't know who she is," Poppy complained. You bit your lip and smirked as you moved to stand in the doorway.

"You never told me I had a little sister," Bucky's face paled as he saw you standing, a firm look on your face and your arms crossed over your chest. "I'm Y/N. Your dad's real, kid," You told her. Poppy gulped as Bucky moved in front of her. "Y/N? How-what-where the hell did you go?!" He asked. You smiled and laughed.

"I left, joined another terrorist organization since you wanted it so badly," You told him. Bucky was sure he was about to faint.

"TAG? You joined fucking TAG?!" He yelled. You nodded. "How could you?" He asked you incredulously. You scoffed and raised your eyebrows. "How could I? No, how could you?! First, you replace me and second, you don't even tell her about her big sister? Wow, I mean, it still makes you a shitty dad, but she has you good, better than I ever did," You said.

"I changed, alright. After you-"

"After I what? Nearly died? So what was I? An experiment? Because the last time I checked, I was supposed to be your daughter, not an excuse to change," You had moved forward to stand in front of him.

"I tried," He said. You chuckled as you pulled your gun out of its holster and pulled it up to his forehead, not even making him flinch. Matty had moved from the doorway and was standing a few feet behind you. Poppy was sobbing as she watched the confrontation go down.

"Well clearly, you didn't try hard enough," You said lowly.

"If you're gonna hold a gun, Y/N, at least shoot someone," You smiled at his words and then pouted, nodding.

"Okay, I will," You assured him. You smiled as you moved the barrel of the gun from his head and behind him, you pulled the trigger and shot a bullet into Poppy's heart. Bucky slid to his knees as she fell to the floor in a heap, she was dead before she hit the floor. You smiled manically, and Bucky knew that any trace of the young girl you used to be was completely gone, and replaced by the woman who stood in front of him. A woman who had been completely ruined as a child, a woman who was traumatized. "I would say I'm sorry, but I'm really not," You said. You walked over to Matt, who put his lips on yours and put his arms around your waist. Bucky saw that you had dropped the gun you shot Poppy with, in his blind rage, he grabbed it and went to shoot you. You smiled and walked over to him, you looked down. "You gonna shoot me, daddy?" You asked him.

"Y/N," You kicked him in the chest and smiled as he fell back with a grunt. You put your foot on his chest, keeping him pinned to the floor.

"You know the saying, 'Choose Life'. Well you know what, fuck life. Why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life, the reasons? There are no reasons, who needs reasons when you've got a dad that hates you and the ability to cause so much trauma, not even the best psychiatrist could save you?" You said. Bucky looked up at you, fear in his eyes, you took pride in that fear. "Well, have a good day, Bucky"

You walked out of the compound.

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brianc521 · 4 years

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Gears of Love | Raul Mendes

Mechanic!Raul | OC!Juniper

Juniper Kelly’s biggest dream was to become a published author. It’d been her dream since high school when she posted a few Fanfiction pieces on a website dedicated for fanfic and got tons of hits right away. She had her own account and racked up a pretty big audience that always requested for more, and every so often left her words of encouragement.

She’d built her whole life around her dream once she graduated. She read every book she could get her hands on, she pushed herself to write things that were out of her comfort zone, she researched random topics in hopes of adding dimension to the characters she created.

She found inspiration in everything. It’s how she met the one thing that gives her the most inspiration, her boyfriend, Raul Mendes.

Raul Mendes was a young mechanic who has just recently taken over his father's auto body shop. Raul has always liked working with his hands, it’s the one thing that kept him out of trouble through his younger years. He was a triplet, and between him and his brothers he was the known bad boy. When they all turned 16 his brothers opted for a Jeep and a truck when he begged for a motorcycle. Fixing up his bike and constantly learning new things about the motor is what kept him interested in school.

They both met one day while Raul was out to coffee with his brothers. It hadn’t been the first time he’d seen her there. She often was spotted in the back corner seat of Amy’s Cold Brew Place, laptop out, headphones in, typing away.

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him either. She’d unintentionally created a whole character based off Raul. The bad boy to the new story she was writing. Well, a bad soft boy. This time though Raul was sporting a new piece of metal in his lip, and it had her going crazy. She watched his mouth as he spoke to his brothers, the way he’d tongue at the curved jewelry in his lip.

One of the brothers, Shawn who she didn’t know was his name at the time, noticed her staring and nudged Raul’s arm and nodded in her direction bringing Raul’s attention to her fatuation. Causing her to go completely red in embarrassment and hide behind her laptop screen.

Raul on the other hand bit his lip in the smug way he does and saw this as his chance to ‘shoot his shot’.

“Couldn’t help but notice you stare.” His voice was so smooth but also rough and raspy. “Hope this doesn’t sound weird, but I’ve been staring too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Raul.” He offered his hand to shake, which she did with a nervous smile.

“Juniper, but my friends call me June.”

“Juniper? That’s really pretty, I’ve never met anyone with that name.”

“It’s weird I know.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.

“It’s not.” He shook his head, touching her fingers that were on the table to get her attention. “It’s truly beautiful.”

It was right then and there where they stole each others hearts.

“Juniper Baby?” Raul asked as he walked through the front door, throwing his keys and wallet on the table just inside the door.

“Living room.” She called out weakly from her camped out spot on the floor in the middle of the room. Surrounding her were books and loose pieces of paper.

“Hey Gorgeous.” Raul smiled as he walked in the room, finding his girlfriend in one of his sweatshirts with her hair in a messy bun.

He got a mumbled “Hi.” In return. He chuckled, knowing she was in a completely different world right now, with the way her fingers were flying across the keyboard. So instead of interrupting he’d wandered himself in the kitchen to make her a midnight snack.

With not having much talent in the kitchen he settled on grilled cheese with a granola bar and a glass of milk. He walked back into the living room, figuring out her maze to the center of her circle where she was sitting pretty quickly. Slowly he pushed her laptop closed, giving her plenty of time to move her fingers.

She looked up with wide eyes and smiled sheepishly. “Hi.” She whispered when he pushed the plate that holds her sandwich and granola bar into her hands.

“Hi Baby.” He leaned forward kissing her cheek. “Did you have dinner?”

“Um,” She says while taking a huge bite of her sandwich, “I nibbled.”

“On?” He rolled his eyes.

She turns and holds up a bowl full of dry cheerios.

“Baby, I know you’re in crunch time trying to finish before you meet with the publisher this week but you have to take care of yourself. You can’t meet with the publisher if you’re in the hospital after passing out for lack of nutrition.”

She sighs and nods at him.

“It’s like a job interview Baby. You have to make yourself look good. And if you go in looking like a skeleton they’re not gonna be impressed.”

“Okay.” She whines, looking down at her lap.

“Hey.” He tips her chin up. “I know my Baby can do it. I know she’s the best, she just has to know it too.”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.” He smiles, leaning a bit closer.

“I love you too.”

He kisses her lips softly, giggling as he pulls away. “You taste like cheese.”

“You taste like milk.” She replies.

“So,” He takes the last bite of his sandwich. “Can I read it yet?”

“No.” She shakes her head.

“Am I ever going to get to read this masterpiece?”

“If I have a say then no, you won’t ever get to read it.”

“What?” He gapes at her, frown pulling at his lips.

“You will read it, I just. I have to make it perfect first.”

He sets her plate aside crawling up to his hands and knees, causing her to lean back until she’s laying on the floor and he’s hovering over her. “It is perfect Juniper Baby, because you wrote it.”

She shakes her head, tapping his nose. “You’re just a sweet talker, I know your games Mendes.”

“Come on,” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to her neck. “Let me read it.”

“No.” She lets out breathlessly.

“Please.” He groans as he hikes her leg up over his waist, lips sealed to the skin behind her ear.

“No but you can keep doing that.”

“Oh can I?” He grins, hand trailing up and into her shorts. “Can I do this?” He strokes her heat from the outside of her panties, causing a friction that has her tugging at his hair and moaning into his ear.

“Yeah you can do that.”

“Mmm,” He pulls back to look at her blissed out eyes. “Let’s see what else I can do.”

After their raundeveous on her brainstorm notes she was sleepy and dreary eyed. Trying to fight herself to stay awake with him, but she’d had an early morning while he had a late night so he put her to bed when she dozed off on his chest. Tucked her in and kissed her forehead before heading back to the kitchen. He was still pretty wired from his stressful day at work and poured himself a small glass of whiskey.

Catching sight of the mail on the counter he took a sip of his drink and then opened the few envelopes they’d received. He sighed, setting his cup down, when he saw the electric check he had written just a week ago had bounced. Pinching the bridge of his nose he read that the few other checks he’d written for bills had bounced as well.

“Fuck me.” He mumbled, checking the bank statement he’d been emailed last night and groaned when he saw that he hadn’t been able to pay himself last week, spacing it completely since he’d already sent off the checks.

He stared at his phone that was laid out on the counter and cursed himself as he did the last thing he swore he’d ever do. He called Shawn.

“Raul? It’s like 1:30 in the morning, what are you doing up?”

“What are you doing up?”

“I’m writing a song, and you? Since I asked first?”

He grins, biting his lip as he looks to the bedroom door that was open just a hint. “Well I had a rather pleasing romp in the sheets with my girl before putting her to bed.”

“Oh gross I didn’t need to know that. Are you still in bed?”

“No what kind of animal do you think I am?”

“I’m not sure you want me to answer that.”

Raul laughs in response, letting the conversation with his brother calm him for the time being.

“But you called for a reason so what’s up?”

“Is there a chance I could meet you for coffee tomorrow morning? I need to ask you something but I want it to be in person.”

“Um sure, are you asking me to be a groomsman because I already through it was decided that I was your best man, Peter is mine, and you’re Peter’s.”

“I’m not asking you to be my best man,” Raul shakes his head. “Well, yet.”

“Oh we’ll be talking about that tomorrow too. I’ll meet you at Amy’s at 8?”

“Can we do 9? I wanna make sure the shop opens just fine.”

“Yeah that works, see you then.”

“Okay thanks.”

“Love ya bro, go to bed.”

“Love ya too. Goodnight.”

With that Raul hung up on Shawn and shook his head as he downed the rest of his whiskey and headed to bed.

Raul walked in the door to Amy’s at 9:26 rushing in to find Shawn, who was seated at a table with two coffee’s.

“Hey I thought you were gonna stand me up.” Shawn smiled as Raul slid into the table.

“Sorry, had an issue with a customer who was upset about the price for an oil change.”

“Doing oil changes now?” Shawn questions, sipping at his coffee.

“Yeah I needed more business so I expanded the services a little.”

“So, what’s up?”

“Okay, I need to blurt this out because I absolutely hate myself for doing this. I mean you don’t know how much I’m beating myself up over this. I feel like such a-”

“Hey, blurt it out.” Shawn cuts him off.

“Can I borrow some money?” Raul blurts, cringing at himself.

Shawn sets his cup down, and sits straighter. “Are you okay?”

Raul sighs and hangs his head. “The business is struggling this summer, I haven’t been able to pay myself for like a month now? And Juni, she’s working on her novel and baby sitting on the side, but her gigs aren’t bringing in enough, you know? I thought I had enough in my savings to last us, but after last month's rent and bills I’m drained out man. I’m trying so hard, I’m pushing myself to the breaking point, and I wrote checks for this months bills and,” He sighs shaking his head. “They bounced.”

“Raul.” Shawn sighed.

“I know, but when I wrote them the shop was making money so I was planning to pay myself but then we lost a few solid clients and I wasn’t able too. So they bounced and I don’t want to stress Juni out, she’s just now found a publisher and I’d hate myself if she didn’t go through with it to find a job. Just this once Shawn, and I’ll pay you back I swear.”

“Raul, breathe.”

Raul takes a few deep breaths and nods at his brother.

“How much?”

“$700?” Raul whispers, shoulders slouching. “I have enough to cover half the rent, but then there’s-”

“Shh.” Shawn shakes his head, pulling his wallet out. “I don’t need to know your bills and all that. Take this,” Shawn pulls out cash from his wallet. “And don’t even worry about it. I want to see June succeed in her writing. I want you to succeed at the shop, you’re both in the struggle stage before you’re gonna take off. I can see it. So take it, it’s my support for both of your dreams.”

“No I’ll pay you back. Thank you so much Shawn. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I do, I love you Raul, and I want to see you successful and happy.”

“I love you too Shawn.”

“Now get back to the shop.” Shawn smiles, showing his brother away.

Sitting in his office on his ‘lunch break’ Raul is able to pay off the bills since he’d deposited the cash Shawn gave him into his account on his way back to the shop. The moment everything balanced he was able to breathe deeply and not stutter on it.

“Where is he?” He heard from just outside his office.

“On lunch.”

Raul looked up when he heard the sound of heels clicking on the floor and then stood when Juniper walked in. She had her meeting with the editor and publisher today, meaning she’d borrowed her sisters suit and heels to dress to impress.

“Well?” He asked softly, in case it didn’t go well, but by the smile on her face he’d say it went just fine.

“They wanna publish it!” She yelled, running and jumping into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

“Oh my god Juniper Baby that’s awesome!” He cheered. She squeezed him tighter and squealed in his ear. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me Baby?”

“Because if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have gone for it. I wouldn’t have even started writing the book in the first place. I wouldn’t have had the chance to be able to write. I owe it all to you, so thank you. Thank you for believing in my dreams, and thank you for making them come true.”

“You made them come true Baby, I simply said that you could.”

She pulled back and held his cheeks in her hands as she kissed him passionately. “Any chance you can come home right now?” She mutters against his lips.

“You’re insatiable.” He grins, thinking back to the fun shower they’d shared this morning. “I would totally love to, but I kind of have to close the shop tonight. Connor’s Mom is throwing a surprise birthday party for his brother and he’s in charge of getting the cake.”

“Awe.” She whines, jutting her bottom lip forward. “Can you come right home after close?”

He sighs, looking at the stack of paperwork on his desk. When his eyes flick back to his girlfriend who is pleading with him. He can’t say no. I mean she’s getting her book published. “Yeah, the minute I close I’m out of here. Go home and get fancied up, I’m taking you to dinner.”

“Really?”

“Yes, my girl is gonna be a published author, she deserves to be wined and dined before she’s fucked and tucked.”

“Oh my god you did not just say that.” She hits his chest playfully, giggling as he tugs her close burying his face in her neck. “I hate you!” She laughs harder when he bites at her neck.

“You love me, don’t lie.”

“So tell me everything, start from the beginning.” Raul says now that the waiter has taken their orders.

She sits straighter, smiling at him with such hope in her eyes. “So the CEO of this small publishing company downtown emailed me about a week and a half ago about a manuscript I sent.”

“Mhm.”

“And she wanted me to come in with a second draft of the manuscript to meet with her and her editor. So that’s what my meeting was today. Her name is Carol Wilkins of Wilkins Stories. The editor, Jackson Perry was so kind about my work. He truly was able to grasp the essence of my characters and had wonderful notes that just expanded my work tremendously.”

“Wait so this is still your book right? You didn’t like sell the story?”

Her expression changes from excitement to horror so fast that he has to hold on to the edge of the table to stable himself.

“Why would you ever suggest such a thing? I’ve literally poured my heart and soul into this manuscript-”

“Hey,” Raul grabs her hand, bringing her back to him. “I’m not the bad guy, I’m just trying to understand this side of your world. My brain is wrapping around the idea of an editor. To me they just make sure spelling and punctuation is correct.”

“Well yes but they also help with subjects and making sure the flow of the book works.”

“Okay, I’m sorry I asked what I did, I'm just trying to understand. I’m going to have questions about this. I have no idea what you’re doing or how you do it. You’re magical to me.”

She blushes as she rolls her eyes at him. “I just see an idea and write it. Describe it. It’s nothing special.”

“I’d begged to differ. Although you haven’t let me read this certain book, you have let me read a few shorts you wrote and the fact that you can create another world, another timeline with just words is magic. It’s pure magic that you could make my heart race and break and sink to my stomach with the way a character felt.”

“You’re too much.”

“I’m not enough, clearly since I asked the horrid question I did.”

“Hey.” She squeezes his hand, brows furrowing. “Never say that to me again. You’re everything and more.”

He gives her the best smile he can, but he can’t help but feel pretty low about himself right now. The fact that he had to stoop so low and ask his multimillionaire brother for money is killing him inside. He wants to make her happy, he wants to support and take care of her. He just isn’t stable enough in the shop to do so yet. Once he’s able to be stable and pay Shawn back he’ll start to feel a little better but right now he’s feeling like a grade A loser.

Raul walks into the empty cold apartment with grease smeared along his brow. His strong jawline is clenched with the stress of the day he’s had, but he’s ready to shower and have a lovely dinner in with his girl.

“Juniper Baby?” He asks, not recalling if he’d seen her car in the garage.

Walking around noticing the lights are off he assumes she’s on her way from the publishing house. It’s Wednesday which was ‘Masked Singer’ nights, and also their designated date night. It’s a random day of the week to have a date night, but it’s the slowest day of the week for the shop therefore making it the only day Raul is comfortable having Connor close up for him.

He takes this time to jump into the shower real quick and get himself all put together for his lady, making sure to shave and add a little gel to his curls. He slips on a nice sweater, one of her favorites, and sets off to the kitchen to make her dinner.

As he’s plating the chicken alfredo and garlic bread he realizes how late she is on coming home. He checks his phone and doesn’t see any messages and that makes his heart beat a little quicker. Dialling her number he takes the plates to the beat up folding card table they have set as a ‘dining room’.

“Hey you’ve reached June, I’m not able to answer the phone right now but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can! Leave a message!”

He sighs as the tone sounds, “Hey Juni, just thought I’d let you know that dinner is served up for us. Um call me back when you get a chance. I can’t wait to see you, even though I’m sure you’ll walk through the door any minute. Okay I love you. Bye Baby.”

He clicks his phone off and goes to set the living room with a few blankets and pillows along with a few lit candles.

By 9 Raul’s pacing the apartment. He’s called her five times and every call has gone to voicemail. He’s scared because no one else has heard from her either.

When the sound of her key turning the lock on the door rings through the silent apartment Raul just about tackles her when she walks through the door. She yelps as he picks her up, sighing against her shoulder.

“Raul?” She asks confused as to what was going on.

“Are you okay?” He asks, pulling away to inspect her face. “Are you hurt? Was there an accident?”

“What?” She asks, “What are you talking about?”

“Why are you so late?” He takes a step back, arms flopping to his sides.

“I was editing with Jackson.” She takes her purse off and sets it on the table he puts his keys on. “He had this idea for-”

“But it’s date night.” He pouts. “I called you a bunch and texted you. You never responded.”

“You did?” She digs through her purse. “Oh Babe I’m sorry, I must have my phone on silent.”

“It’s still date night Juniper.” He crosses his arms. “You just bailed on me without saying anything?”

“It’s not da-” But when she looks at her phone seeing ‘Wednesday 9:07 pm’ flash on her screen she groans. “It’s date night. I’m sorry Babe. I had the days mixed up, I thought today was Tuesday.”

“I mean it’s cool if you want to bail, but at least tell me.” He says walking to the table and grabbing the two full plates of cold pasta.

“You made alfredo,” She whines. “That’s my favorite.”

“I know.”

“Raul I’m sorry.” She says grabbing his hand once he’s set the plates on the kitchen counter. “Honey I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I totally bailed on you and that’s not cool. I’ll make it up to you.”

“I need to go to bed.”

“No! Raul please.”

“Connor closed tonight which means I have to open, and I left a ton of paperwork because of date night. I need to make up that time I skipped tonight. So I have to go in early tomorrow.”

“How early?” She asks. “Because I have to go in early too. Let’s do a breakfast date, to make up for tonight.”

“I have to be in at 7.” He rubs his chin. “The shop doesn’t open til 9, but I could push to like 8 if you wanna do breakfast.”

She flops into one of the camp chairs that’s set up at the table. “I have to go in at 6, Carol wants to go over the changes before she leaves town for the rest of the week. But maybe lunch?”

“I can't, I have to work through lunch tomorrow because Connor has a dentist appointment.”

“Then can we do date night right now?”

“I have to go to bed Juniper.” He says putting his hands on his hips. “I’ve been up since 5 this morning, I have to be up at 5 again tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“I’ve started going to the gym with Shawn in the morning. We meet at 6 and I go straight from the gym to work. I told you this! I’ve been doing this for like 3 weeks now. Shawn’s only in town for so long.”

“You didn’t go on Monday, you stayed and we took a shower before my meeting.”

“Shawn had an early morning meeting, but we met for coffee.”

“You had time to meet Shawn for coffee on Monday but couldn’t leave early?”

“Yes I needed to ask him something.”

“What did you need to ask him?”

“Something about the business.” He waved her off, walking to the bedroom.

“What was it?”

“Does it matter?” He turns to her, watching the hurt flash across her face. “I’m taking a shower.”

“You took one when you got home. I can tell.”

“I want to take another, is that a crime? This gel shit makes my hair all gross, and I’m starting to become upset and need a moment to collect myself.”

“Okay, well, I’m gonna eat real quick and then can we talk about your day?”

“Sure.” He mumbled as he goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

“You never shut the door.” She whispers, staring at the closed bathroom door that's working well to divide them.

Raul only takes long showers when he’s upset or stressed and right now Juniper is worried it’s a combination of both considering it’s been almost an hour and a half and Raul is still in the bathroom.

She doesn’t want to invade on his personal time, but she’s really starting to worry.

“Raul, Baby?” She asks, knocking on the door softly.

“Yeah?” He croaks.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I come in? Join you maybe?” She asks, holding out hope that he’ll say yes.

“Um,” She hears him shuffling. “Sure.”

She smiles, knowing that her boy is still there. That he’s still with her, no matter how much she fucks up. She steps into the room quickly, stripping and slowly opening the curtain.

The sight she sees is like a sucker punch to the gut. Raul was standing under the shower head, curls stuck to his forehead, eyes red and puffy as if he’d been crying and his skin was bright red from the heat of the water.

“Baby.” She sighs, stepping in with him and turning the knob to turn the heat down a bit. “You’re gonna hurt your skin.” She whispers, hesitating to touch her.

“Okay.”

“Raul, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Please don’t lie to me. We’re already in rocky territory right now, let’s not make it worse.”

“We’re in rocky territory?” His voice cracks as he turns over his shoulder to peer at her.

“Are we?”

“You tell me?”

“Raul,” She sighs, shaking her head. “You have to tell me. I’m the one who fucked up here. I’m the one who forget about date night, I’m the one who ditched you. I’m the one beating myself up, so please tell me, are we?”

“I don’t think so.” He shakes his head. “And you don’t need to be beating yourself up. It’s okay Baby. I understand that you got caught up, and there’s been a lot on your plate suddenly. I’m so proud of you for doing this. There is just a lot going on at work right now, I’m struggling with the shop and I’m not dealing with it well.”

“What’s going on at the shop?” She asks, touching his bare back.

He relaxes at her touch, melting back into her. She slides her hands from his back around to his chest, stepping forward to hug him from behind. Resting her head between his shoulder blades, kissing at the red skin for a moment.

“Business went down when word spread that my dad retired. No one thinks I can handle the shop the way he did. No one thinks I can run the place. They all think I’m some delinquent, and not the one who was running the place a full year before Dad retired.”

“You are not delinquent.” She gasps, slipping around him to be face to face.

“Yeah well tell that to my tattoos and piercings.”

“What do tattoos and piercings have to do with how well you can work? With how successful you are?”

“I don’t know!” He cries. “Ask the fucking boomers.”

“Okay, boomer.” She snorts, remembering a reference her nephew said when she’d gone over to borrow her sisters suit. “Honestly Babe,” She plays with the slight dusting of chest hair he has. “I think you’re amazing at what you do. You understand everything with engines and motors so perfectly. You haven’t seen one car that you haven’t been able to fix. If your Dad’s old clients can’t see that, then they’re not the clients for you. It’s time to go out and find your own. I know you can do it.”

“I love you.” He sighs, tucking his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder. “You make everything better.”

“I love you too. I’m sorry I wasn’t here tonight to say this sooner. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s okay Baby.” He gives her a peck. “But I seriously need to go to bed. Shawn’s gonna kick my ass tomorrow if I’m dragging.”

She laughs and nods, turning the water off and stepping out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself before wrapping one around him.

With the persona Raul gives off to the public, no one would peg him as the jealous type. He just holds this confidence in the way he goes about his life. To truly know Raul, you know that he deep down has a hint of insecurity that can manifest and spin out of control.

He’s slowly starting to spin.

He’s yet to be able to pay Shawn back, and he knows within the next two weeks another bout of bills is going to roll in. If he doesn’t hit some sort of luck of gold he’s not gonna have enough to pay them again. He won’t go back to the bank of Shawn.

Peter has just been accepted into an internship that will, within a few years, lead him into the doors of Nasa just like he’s always dreamed off. Shawn’s been nominated for a Grammy, again, and his third world tour is almost over. Aaliyah has been accepted into University of Toronto to study Cinema Studies. Juniper is editing everyday, now seeing plans for book jackets and talking about a book signing tour.

While Raul, well Raul is resorting to handing out $5 off slips in the local grocery stores to drum up more business. He’s just feeling less and less of himself, watching those most important around him start to grow while he’s plateauing.

With all of this going on, it doesn’t help that his girlfriend comes home late at night after spending the day with Jackson. He’s all she can talk about now. ‘Jackson this’, ‘Jackson that’, Raul is slowly starting to lose his goddamn mind.

Peter sits in his office while he waits for him to be done charging a new client for the rock chip fix they completed on the front windshield. When he goes to his office he feels like he can breathe deeply again when he sees his brother there.

“So how are you doing?” Peter asks when Raul sits. “I haven’t heard from you lately.”

“Um, I’m really fucking stressed out.”

“What do you mean?”

“There is so much going wrong that I can’t keep up.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asks, sitting forward. “Why haven’t you asked for help?”

“I have.” He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You have?”

“I asked Shawn.”

“Oh.” Peter leans back, a bit hurt that he wasn’t asked.

“No Pete, not like that. It’s not like that.” Raul shakes his head. “I couldn’t pay rent.” He mumbled, not making eye contact with his brother. “And as much as it disgusted me, I felt more comfortable asking Shawn for money.”

“Oh Raul.” Peter leans forward to squeeze his brothers hand for a brief moment, letting him know that he’s there for him. “Are you okay?”

“I mean no, I’m not. It fucking sucked. It fucking sucks that I might not be able to pay rent next month either.”

“What’s going on? Are you not making money?”

“Well we lost a lot of clients when Dad announced his retirement, and because of that business dropped significantly. I’m working on bringing some back, but it’s taking longer than I expected.”

“Can I help at all?”

“Know about $4000 worth of cars that need fixing?”

“Well no,” Peter shakes his head. “But like, can us as a family help?”

“Well,” Raul rubs the slight stubble on his chin. “Loretta is planning to retire,” He says, talking about the front desk receptionist. “I was thinking of asking Li if she’d be interested. I mean, she could work around class, and I’d be real flexible, school comes first.”

“Totally, and if you need another mechanic I can jump in and help. More hands mean more cars right?”

“No, Pete you just got that internship.”

“Yeah, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.” Peter shrugs. “I ain’t got nothing going on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.”

“Are you sure?”

“Totally, and like you can pay me minimum, I don’t need a whole lot. Plus I know you hate the new kid you hired. Brock right?”

“Yeah,” Raul sighs. “I mean he shows a bit of potential but like he’s so arrogant, and rude to customers. He’s driving away business.”

“So get rid of him, bring me on, keep Connor. And we’ll make it a family business again.”

“Are you sure Pete? Because I don’t want to overwhelm you, you’re dreams need to come before the shop.”

“No don’t do that.” Peter shakes his head. “The shop is your dream. My dreams aren’t superior to yours.”

“Let me talk to Li before we make any final plans okay?” Raul says, standing to hug his brother, because it feels like a weight was just completely lifted from his shoulders.

“Hey!” Aaliyah cheered when she looked up to see Raul walking into her bedroom. She hadn’t know he was coming over.

“Hey Kid.” He smiled, catching her as she leapt into his arms for a hug. “How you doing?”

“I’m good, staying busy.” She laughs, sitting back on her bed while Raul sits in the chair that sits at her vanity.

“How busy?”

“Um, just school and hockey.”

He nods, and looks around her room to stall.

“What’s up Raul? Why’d you stop by?”

“Can’t want to see my baby sister?” He asks looking back at her again.

“You can, if you ever did.” She giggled. “So what’s up?”

“Hey, I want to see you all the time.” He objects.

“Raul, you’re stalling. I know you, what’s up?”

“You want a job?” He blurts, eyes wide.

“What?” She breathes out.

“Fuck me,” He groans. “Okay what I meant to say is, Loretta at the shop is retiring, but she told me she’d wait until I found her replacement before she left the shop. She’s all worried with Dad retiring and now her that I’ll be left alone and screw the whole shop up. I know that’s not the case, but as I was thinking about replacing Loretta, I realized that all the people I’ve had to replace doesn’t make the shop feel like home anymore. It doesn’t feel like a family. I’d like to get back to that. So,” He shrugs, “If you’re looking for a job, that you can have through college, I’d love for you to join me at the shop as the receptionist.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I think you’d be really good at it. You know everything there is to know about the shop already, you know most of the customers. I’d be there with you everyday, Pete a few days out of the week.”

“Wait, Pete?”

“Yeah Pete talked to me about taking Brock’s shifts because his new internship is only three days a week. He’s willing to help out, and it’ll give him practice on working on motors before he goes all pro and starts working for Nasa.”

“I hate that Brock guy, he’s a creep.”

“He is, he’d be completely gone if you join us. I don’t want you around him, or really vice versa.”

“But I’ll have class.”

“And as your super proud older brother I’d much rather you go to class than to the shop. So if you did decide to join us, I’d be totally flexible to your schedule. We can switch it up anytime we need to, like if you feel you need more time to study one week that’s perfectly fine. If you want more hours because you don’t have so much going on, then you’ll have them. Whatever you want, I'll give you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I want you Li. I miss seeing you everyday, and I think you’d be a great asset to the shop I’m trying to run.”

“Okay, yes. I’m in.”

“Oh my god!” Raul cheers, jumping up to hug his sister. “Yay! I can’t wait.”

“So what else is going on? I saw June like two weeks ago and she seems busy.”

“She is.” Raul nods. “She’s really busy.”

“You sound, bitter? About that.” She says, trying to figure out what the right word is to describe Raul’s reaction.

“I just,” He sighs. “I just feel a little jealous I guess. She spends so much time with Jackson, her editor. He’s literally all she talks about when she’s home. I can’t go two sentences without the guys name being in there. I love her to death, and their closeness scares me a little.”

“Raul, no, she loves you.”

“Lately, I’ve been worried about that. I just feel so inadequate. This Jackson guy has so much to offer her. I mean he’s her editor to start, but like he also knows what the fuck she talks about 99% of the time. While I’m over here floundering because she’s talking hyperbole's and foreshadowing. I mean I stay up late just to look those fucking words up because I don’t remember jackshit from school.”

“But you care Raul, I mean you’re looking the words up for heaven's sake.”

“I’m just a mechanic Li, not even a good one at that. How am I any help to her. I don’t read, ever, and I can’t proof her shit because I don’t know what that entails. I mean she doesn’t even let me read her work anyway, that’s how ashamed she is.”

“She is not ashamed of you Raul. You mean so much more to her than you even know. It’s astounding the way she speaks about you. I can’t even begin to do it justice because I can’t. You’re everything to her, you just need to listen when she tells you so.”

“I don’t know Li.”

“I think you need to talk to her about this. I think she needs to know how you’re feeling. How is it supposed to get better when the person you’re stressed over doesn’t even know your stressed about them?”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.”

“Then go home and talk to her, please.”

“It is date night, maybe I’ll talk to her tonight.” He nods, kissing his sisters cheek as a goodbye as he starts to leave. “I’ll text you when I’ve fired Brock, I don’t want you to start until he’s gone.”

Raul checks his phone as he gets in his car, noticing he’s got a few texts.

iMessage from Superstar Shawn: Okay loser, Petey’s coming by tonight for pizza and beer to watch the game. Be there or be square.

iMessage from Pete’s Dragon: What did Li say?

iMessage from My Juni <3: Hey, sorry honey I can’t make it home in time for date night tonight. Carol wants to talk book jacket bio

Raul rolls his eyes, replaying her ‘it won’t happen again’ back in his head. He knows he shouldn’t be upset and grumpy over this. Her dreams are coming true and that’s all he’s ever wanted for her. He just didn’t realize for her dreams to come true, their relationship would be put on hold.

iMessage to Superstar Shawn: I’ll be there

iMessage to Pete’s Dragon: I’ll tell ya tonight.

Raul has distanced himself a bit from Juniper, not wanting to ask the dire questions he needs answered in the slight chance that he won’t get the answer he wants. The ‘what if’ is too grave for him to risk.

Since she’s cancelled on him twice now for date night, in favor of working on her book he just feels like right now that’s the most important thing in her life. He’s trying to allow her to let that be important without her having to worry about anything else that’s going on in their lives at the moment.

The distance is something that’s taking a toll on Juniper. She’s been asked to write a more in-depth version of one of the last chapters of her book, and since the inspiration for the book seems to be super far away, she’s in the worst block she’s ever had.

“Juniper, go home.” Jackson says. “You need the night with him, actually you need like a week straight alone with him.”

What Juniper didn’t expect to find when she walked in the door was Raul hunched over the table, head in his hands as he reads through a bunch of paperwork.

“Hey.” She says softly, hoping not to startle him. “What’s all this?” She asks, referring to the opened envelopes all over the table.

“Nothing.” Raul grunts. “What’s wrong? Why are you home?”

“Hi, nice to see you too Dear.” She pokes his shoulder, teasingly. “I wanted to spend some time with you. I miss my boyfriend.”

“Well he’s always here Juniper.” Raul spits, shrugging off her hands that had started to massage his shoulders. She stares at the back of his head appalled that he’d called her Juniper, not Juniper Baby.

“I know, and I appreciate that. I’m always here for you too.” She plants a kiss to his mop of curls.

“No you’re not.” He stands, grabbing the papers in a rush. As he turns to walk out of the dining room area that leads to the kitchen, he drops a paper. Juniper reaches down to grab it for him, but looks at it first.

“What is this?” She gasps. “A final notice?”

“Give me that.” Raul turns on his heel in a hurry to snatch the paper form her.

“Wait, is this our phone bill?” She steps out of his reach as she continues to read the bill.

“No!” He reaches for it again.

“Wait-” She stops him, pulling the other bills from his hands. Watching as he sighs in defeat, hanging his head. “Almost all of these are final notices.”

“Yeah well.” He scratches the back of his neck as she siffles through papers.

“Raul,” She looks up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me about this? I thought we were in this together, no?”

At this Raul snaps, his spin spins out of control and he loses it all.

“Me too!” He raises his voice. “But lately you haven’t been here! I’ve been here,” He points to his chest. “Me, I’ve been here. And guess what Juniper, we’re fucking broke. News flash, you’re 16 hour days of editing are unpaid.”

“Hey.” She says softly.

“I can’t do it on my own anymore. I mean fuck, the shop is just now starting to make money again. This is the first month I’ve been able to pay myself since I took over. We can finally make this month’s rent by the skin of our teeth.”

“Wait.” She stops him, now starting to ramp up to his anger. “If you’ve just now been able to pay yourself, then how have we paid rent the four months we’ve lived here?”

“Well the first two months totally drained my savings, and last month I had to go to Shawn.”

She gasps as she looks at him. She takes a step back, eyes wide, mouth agape. “You what?”

“I had to, what else was I going to do?”

“Talking to me about it would have been a good start. You didn’t Raul, you didn’t drain everything?”

“How were we going to pay rent?” He exclaims, waving his hands around. “Hate to say it, but this hellhole we live in that barely has heat and no dishwasher is expensive.”

“Raul,” Her eyes go misty. “I can’t believe you.”

“What? What did I do now? Sorry I’m not fucking perfect okay? I was just trying to be enough so you could live out your dream. But I couldn’t fucking do it on my own, as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t.”

“We were supposed to do it together Raul.” She sighs, shaking her head.

“How?” He laughs desperately. “How was I supposed to help make your dreams come true in any other way? Hmm? I’m not Jackson, Juniper. I can’t edit your writing, I mean you won’t even let me read it. I get it, I’m not smart like you. I don’t read and write, I understand you don’t want me to read your work. The least I can do, to feel somewhat adequate in this relationship was to make sure you weren’t worried about money.”

“What?” She stares at him. “What do you mean feel adequate in this relationship?” She stands appalled at the words he’s just spoken.

“I mean, what else am I to you?”

“The love of my life.” She cuts him off. “How could you think otherwise? Raul I don’t need you to be able to edit my work. I don’t need you to read or be anything you aren’t. I need you to be you. I need you.” She wipes away the tear that’s rolling down her cheek. “I can’t believe I’ve made you feel that way. You’re everything to me. I haven’t let you read my work, but not because I don’t want you to. Or that I think you’re not smart enough, or some bullshit like that. Because that’s, that’s utter bullshit. Raul I haven’t let you read my book because it’s about you, and I’m scared that it’s not perfect enough to show you yet.”

“It’s what?” Raul deflates, falling back into the counter a little.

“It’s about you. It’s a love story between a young author and a mechanic.” She digs through her backpack that she set next to the table when she walked in. She grabs a book and hands it to him. “This is the first printed copy. It’s not the actual copy we’ll print because we’re still adding scenes. But this was my manuscript I sent in. Carol printed it for me so I can have both this copy and the edited copy to compare.”

Raul stares at the book in her hands, at the book jacket that reads ‘Gears of Love’. She holds it out to him, and gently he takes the book. He turns it over to read the back summary that reads.

A love story like no other. Can dreams really lead you to the rest of your life? Follow Katie Fallon, an aspiring author who meets Bryce Mills when her car breaks down on her way home from the library one night. Bryce is the local mechanic who tows Katie's car back to his shop. It’s a tale for the ages as Katie consistently bumps into Bryce around town, and Bryce falls head over engines for the cute girl that dotted her I’s with hearts.

“You dot your I’s with hearts.” Raul looks up, staring into Juniper’s eyes.

“When you read the book you’ll find out that Bryce has a head of brown curls, and the most annoying brothers Katie’s ever met. It doesn’t mention it in the summary, but Bryce is a triplet.”

“You wrote a book about me?” Raul whispers, eyes lighting up.

“Yeah, you inspired me the first day you ever walked into Amy’s. I started writing this book then. After our first date the whole idea just took off, and with every day I’ve spent with you after this book has grown more and more. Honestly, I’m writing the sequel right now.”

“A sequel?” He smiles.

“It’s why I’ve been spending so much time with Jackson, rewriting the end of this book so I can lead into the sequel seamlessly.”

“Oh Juniper Baby.” He coos, bending his knees enough to pick her up and hauled her into his chest. “You’re amazing.”

“I love you so much Raul. I’m sorry I’ve made you feel otherwise.”

“No Baby, I should have talked to you about it sooner.”

“I should have been talking to you about all of this from the get go, and I shouldn’t have cancelled another date night.”

“Stop.”

“No you stop, I’m apologizing.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Raul.” She pulls back to look at him. “I want-”

“If the next word out of your mouth isn’t cuddles then you might as well just not say anything. Because I’m gonna take you into our bedroom, and cuddle the shit out of you while I explain to you all the changes I made to the shop, and how we need to, as a couple, figure out our saving plan. Okay?”

“Okay.” She nods.

“First give me a kiss?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

This book is dedicated to my amazing boyfriend Raul. He’s my daily inspiration and without his love and support this book would have never happened. This is all for you Honey, I love you!

Raul cried when she gave him his very owned signed copy, reading the dedication in the front broke the tears from his eyes.

“Oh Juniper Baby.” He whined, turning around hugging her as she hands the rest of his family their copies as well. “I can’t believe you.”

“Ha! Raul you’re the dedication.” Aaliyah laughs, reading the page. “That’s so sweet.”

“It was the least I could do.”

“Babe,” Raul shakes his head. “You just bought us a new TV.”

“Well, I mean you needed something to go with your new Xbox.”

“You got a new Xbox?” Peter pipes up.

“Yeah was gonna invite you over for a game night this week.” Raul smiles, wiggling his eyebrows at Peter. “Since she’s forcing me to keep it after I’ve told her a thousand times to take it back.” He gives Juniper a look.

“I wanted to get you something, now shut up about it.”

“I’m in.” Peter nods dumbly.

“Y’all I better have an invite, it’s been awhile since I beat your ass at Fifa.” Aaliyah shoved her brothers shoulders.

“Will Shawn be in town?” Juniper asked.

“Um, I think he gets back in town Wednesday.” Peter said. “So does Thursday work?”

“Works perfect for me.” Aaliyah speaks up.

“Yeah we can hang after work.” Raul nods.

“How’s the shop Raul?” Manuel asks.

“It’s going really well, we made almost $6000 more than we were projected to this last month. Was able to give everyone a bit of a bonus for hanging in there and getting us through the tough times. But it’s good. Business is racking up for holidays.”

“Yeah we have like 6 oil changes scheduled for tomorrow and Peter’s still working on that Jeep while Raul’s working on a Motorcycle for some primo guy from the Hamptons right?” Aaliyah smiles.

“Yeah shipped his bike all the way here because I happened to work on one of his buddies bikes a few weeks back. He’s paying top dollar for parts and labor. It’s a good deal, and it’s a nice bike to work on.” Raul nods.

“I’m proud of you Raul, you really turned the shop around. I knew you were the perfect fit.”

“Hmm,” Juniper smiles, rubbing Raul’s back. “I feel like I’ve said that a time or two.”

“I know,” Raul nods. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“Thank you for believing in me.” She smiles.

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nonstoplover · 4 years

Text

trust fund baby ~ Timothée Chalamet (song drabble) - version 1.0

my masterlist │ my song drabbles

song i used as inspiration: why don't we ~ trust fund baby

words: 1.6K

approximate reading time: about 10 mins

a/n: okay so when brainstorming about this song's lyrics i came up with an idea (this one written below) but as i started writing it, another possible, quite similar situation came to my head and since i couldn't decide which one i liked better, i figured i let you guys decide and wrote both. anyway i'm not an expert in cars and repairing them, so excuse my lack of knowledge please. i hope you still like it though! please leave feedback, it means the absolute world to me. love youu

here's version 2.0, the alternative idea

"Damn it." Timothée cursed out loud, slamming his palms against the steering wheel.

He couldn't figure out what was wrong or if accidentally he did something that caused the problem, but here he was in the absolute middle of nowhere, all alone with a slightly smoking engine hood.

He had no clue only that something's really bad was going on. He grabbed his phone and opened the browser to search for the closest garage. A minute later he was already dialling the number he had found on the website as he was slowly getting out of the car.

Walking a little further from the vehicle he looked up and down the totally empty road in front of and behind him. As he listened to the ringing coming to his ear, he couldn't help but think what if the car would explode?

"Hello, Dave's Auto Repair," a chirpy, womanish voice answered the call. "How can I help?"

"Uh... I think something in my car engine went wrong," Timothée spoke, trying to sound less amateurish.

"What are you experiencing?"

"The car started kinda twitching so I pulled off the road and now there's a bit of smoke coming out of the hood," he turned back towards his car with knitted eyebrows, his eyes searching for any new happening.

"Alright, where are you?" The woman on the other side asked and he swiftly gathered all information he could give her about his whereabouts.

She reassured him that soon a breakdown truck would come and pick him up and pull his car to the garage where they would repair it. Hanging up the call Timothée let out a relieved sigh, already feeling less stressed even though his vehicle was still in a quite bad condition.

Thank God I'm not in a hurry, he thought as he slowly sank to a sitting position on the ground, unlocking his phone to spend the rest of his waiting scrolling through social media.

About twenty minutes later he heard the familiar sound of a car approaching and glancing up he was glad to notice it to be the thing he wanted to see. He got up to walk back to his car, leaving the space in front of his car free. The breakdown truck slowly reached him and pulled over in the spot he was previously sitting at. Timothée stepped forward just as the door opened, a figure jumping out.

"Hi, I'm (y/n), from Dave's Auto Repair," (y/n) walked closer, pointing back over her shoulder to the large stickers on the side of the truck behind her advertising the mentioned company, a toolbox swinging in her other hand. "You called for us, right?"

"Ye-yeah," Timothée muttered, eyes slightly widened. "I'm Timmy. I mean, Timothée."

This was not what he was expecting to happen. In his mind he was waiting for a beefy, older man, not a girl around his age. Her (y/h/c) hair was pulled back into a quite messy ponytail, baby hairs that weren't long enough to stay with the others framing her beautiful face that was covered in small, smeared oil-spots. No makeup was on her face but she without a doubt was still the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

(y/n) placed the toolbox in her left hand before wiping the now free right in her stained, blue overalls before holding it out towards him, a playful glance in her eyes as she watched his slight suffering. He immediately reached out to shake the held out hand, wondering about how could this girl keep her palm and fingers so soft whilst working such a job.

"Okay, let's see this rowdy engine," she giggled, bypassing him. She put the box down next to her feet and had the engine hood open, half disappearing in it in no second.

Timothée paced up and down behind her, trying hard to not be a nusiance as he examined the process. The thoughts were racing in his head no matter how hard he tried to stop them. This girl was the absolute dream girl for him. All his life he was saying that he was waiting for a girl who could take care of things herself, whether it's changing a lightbulb or repairing a car.

And now here she was in front of him. He had to pinch himself to make sure it wasn't a dream.

(y/n) examined the car for only less than a minute, recognising the common problem swiftly. She could feel his eyes on her back all the time she was working, and she hated to admit but it made her flustered. The first glance she casted on him she felt a strange attraction, like a magnet that pulled her towards the boy.

It was hard to concentrate on the work in front of her but she resisted the urge to turn her eyes towards Timothée every other second and shut her mind as good as she could, focusing solely on the engine.

Not much later she straightened her back with a sigh, climbing out while (unsuccessfully) cleaning her palms in her workwear, closing the hood behind her. With a quick glance at her bottom she made sure it wasn't dirty and opening the door she sat in his car. She started the engine and smiled happily when she heard the satisfying growling of it, and after fully rolling down the window she stuck her head out.

"Can I go a bit with it?"

Timothée nodded, completely astonished and watched as she drove past him and the service truck, speeding off into the distance. It felt weird to let a complete stranger just drive away with his car, but all her stuff was here beside him and somehow he trusted her enough to remain calm. It was part of her job.

A couple minutes later the shrinking image of his car started growing again, signalling that she was coming back to him. Turning the car carefully around (y/n) came to a stop at the exact same spot the car was standing at, shutting the engine off and getting of.

"We're done," she stretched her back.

"Already?" Timothée replied, and even though he tried hard to fight back the disappointed tone of his voice, it was useless.

"Yeah," (y/n) chuckled, moving her shoulders in a shrugging motion. "It wasn't such a serious problem, and it's quite common actually. I'm used to having to solve it."

"It wasn't serious? It was smoking!"

"Don't let the facade fool you."

"Never again," he muttered, though he meant quite a different thing. All he could think about was how acutely the appearance of the girl fooled him when she got out of her car.

In the meantime (y/n) placed all the equipment she used back in the toolbox and brought it back to the truck, swinging it into the passenger's seat.

"How much is it?" Timothée followed her, pulling out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.

The girl rapidly calculated the fare in her mind, announcing it to the boy, but when she glanced at the amount of money he placed in her palm, she had to rethink the situation, thinking she'd said the wrong number.

"It's... it's a lot more," (y/n) frowned, looking up into his green eyes in confusion.

"I know," he giggled and shrugged, visibly blushing. He glanced down at the ground, trying to hide his fluster.

"Oh, wow."

The young girl never felt more speechless in her entire life. This man randomly gave her about twice the price of what she worked for. What should she say? A simple thank you didn't seem enough.

"I mean, thank you, that's very generous of you."

"You deserve it. You came here to the middle of nowhere in no time," Timothée held his arms out, pointing around the two of them. "And you repaired my car in no time. It's quite out of the common."

(y/n) felt the blood rush to her cheeks hearing the compliment. Not one customer had ever talked to her like this before.

"But, you know, it still wasn't perfect," the boy spoke up again, slightly cringing by his straightforwardness. The girl looked up, curiously waiting what he would say, a little scared to hear a possible mistake she made. "You could still fix it, though."

The small pause wasn't meant to increase the nervous tension in the air as it eventually did, Timothée just had to take another deep and shaky breath before speaking the final words out, ready for rejection.

"How?" (y/n) couldn't take it anymore, her rusty voice breaking the silence. Her father would kill her if she had made a noticeable mistake.

"If I can take you out for dinner sometime."

She thought she heard wrong. Was this boy truly flirting with her so slyly?

"I mean, of course you don't have to, no pressure, really, I would just like to get know you more," he rambled on in embarrassment.

"Hey, hey, shh!" (y/n) silenced him, placing a hand against his shoulder. "I'd love to."

This time it was Timothée who thought he had misheard the outspoken words, but seeing the wide, cheery smile on her face he convinced himself that it was actually her answer without a doubt.

"Amazing!" He exclaimed.

"Give me your phone, I'll put in my number and then we can arrange the time and place," she held out her hand, a little surprised at herself and how she confidently lead the situation unlikely to her natural behaviour.

Within a minute she had finished it and even sent herself a text so she could have his number as well, placing the device back in the boy's hand.

"Okay, then, I gotta go now, my shift's still going." (y/n) spoke. "See you later, I guess."

"Yeah, see you!" Timothée answered, still mesmerized by the girl and how his plan to ask her out succeeded.

He was still standing in the middle of the road when she started the truck and turning around drove off, his phone in his hand, eyes wide and joyful.

.::the end::.

my masterlist

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lavendersuh · 4 years

Text

Doyoung rebel spy!au

doyoung x reader // sci-fi au, fluff, reluctant mission partners to lovers

word count: 1.5k

au masterlist

header by @itsapapisongo tysm!!

note: long time no see! here’s the next part of my little star wars nct au series! i’m trying to make these easy to read for people that don’t know star wars, but I’ve been in the fandom for so long i can forget that some of this terminology isn’t general knowledge lol. blasters = space guns and bacta = quick healing med patches

“Are you coming or not?”

You hear your mission partner call from outside the ship. You snarl as you grab a blaster and exit the ship as well.

“This is a bad idea, Doyoung!” You yell after him as he walks toward the desert town. “We have no idea where we are! How do we know there won’t be any Imperials walking around?”

“Calm down, sweetheart, why would stormtroopers come to such a backwater planet?” Doyoung tells you, casually strolling into the marketplace.

The stalls are bustling with a variety of species, all seemingly in a hurry to go about their business. You didn’t get a very friendly vibe from anyone, but all you needed was to get a part of repair your ship and be on your way.

While you really didn’t want to be here on this run down planet, it was a necessary stop. You were running out of fuel and some of the hyperdrive parts were completely fried from your last jump. You and Doyoung hadn’t expected to run into so much trouble while gathering information for the Rebel Alliance, but at this point, you suppose everything is trouble. Every mission with Doyoung seemed to end in a chase through the stars, and the two of you had only managed to escape because of one too many jumps into hyperspace.

The market is fairly mundane, as people and creatures try to sell their food, ores and tech to anyone who crosses their path. As you search for a place selling ship parts, the hair on the back of your neck stands up. You can just tell that trouble is on it’s way.

You look ahead of you to find Doyoung has already engaged with a vendor. He seems to be using his charm to knock the price down, and you can’t help but feel a smile as his usually annoying charisma comes in handy for once.

You didn’t hate Doyoung, no. You both were fighting for the same things, both having been pilots in the Imperial Academy before running away. With your similar backgrounds, the leaders of your rebel cell decided you would work well together. This was both correct and incorrect.

Statistically, you worked best with Doyoung. The missions were quick, to the point, and you got home with important information and relatively few scratches. But you always fought with Doyoung. It was never anything major, but every time, he somehow managed to piss you off and get you riled up. You were just praying you would get off this planet before you blew your cover.

You finally catch up to Doyoung, hearing him talk in a language you don’t know. He seems to be doing okay though, so you look around a bit as he makes the trade.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a speck of white in the midst of the dull browns and greys of the market. Your eyes widen as you see two stormtroopers emerge from a building.

“Doyoung, we gotta go.” You grab his wrist, startling him in the middle of a sentence. He looks over to where your eyes are trained and you assume he offers the creature a farewell before you take off at a fast pace towards the ship.

“Where the hell are we? Why are those bucket heads on every goddamn planet?” You snarl, making your way through the crowds of people.

“Haven’t you noticed we are fighting an Empire that rules the whole galaxy? Of course there are stormtroopers everywhere!” Doyoung calls behind you.

You’re about to argue back to him, but almost trip over a canister in the middle of the road. You weave around a corner, coming closer and closer to the spaceport holding your ship. You thank every star above that the repair you bought parts for can be made while taking off.

You look behind you to find the troopers hot on your tail, with Doyoung just a few steps behind you. Just as you catch his eye in your glance back, one of the troopers manages to hit his shoulder, causing your partner to cry out. He doesn’t stop running, though, instead catching up to you and making a covert turn so that the troopers are momentarily caught off guard.

The two of you make a few more turns, leading to a completely abandoned alleyway. You don’t have much time but you pause to inspect Doyoung’s injury.

“How bad is your shoulder? We have some bacta patches on the ship, we just have to hurry-”

“It’s not that bad,” Doyoung says, while he holds onto his injury, “But, I need to tell you something important.”

“Important?” you ask, “How important? Because we don’t have a lot of time.”

You know Doyoung’s injury is worse than he is telling you, and you know he isn’t someone who shows his pain. But there is a fear in his eyes. His skin is paler than it normally is, and he wobbles where he stands.

“Please, listen, I just- I need to tell you somet-” Doyoung never finishes his sentence, as he passes out. You are barely close enough to catch him, but after some jostling, you manage to secure your arms around his torso.

Panic sets in as you hear blaster shots a few roads away. You begin to drag your partner along as fast as you can, seeing the space port entry just a few yards away. It’s certainly not the most graceful thing, but soon enough you are setting Doyoung’s unconscious form in the medbay corner of your ship as you pilot yourself out of the city.

It doesn’t take long to exit the atmosphere, so you set up auto-pilot and fix the repair that caused this whole mess in the first place. It’s a quick fix, and you are soon traveling through hyperspace.

Doyoung is still unconscious when you return to him. You find the bacta patches and turn him over gently, removing his shirt and vest to get a better look at the injury. It’s not the worst you’ve ever seen, so you know with the right treatments it will heal in a few days. You press the patches onto his shoulder blade, hearing a seer of pain escape his mouth.

“Are you awake, or do you still wanna pretend like you’re dying?” You ask him, as he tries to sit up.

He coughs for a moment, so you find some water for him as he further wakes up. You stand silently watching the muscles along his neck as he drinks, suddenly reminded of the fact that you tore his shirt in order to apply the bacta.

You hadn’t thought about it at the time, but now that he’s awake, you start to feel flustered. Doyoung doesn’t seem to notice, though, as his eyes stare off into space somewhat intently.

He seems to notice you staring, as he shakes his head and gives you a small smile, “Thank you for getting me all the way back here.”

“It’s no problem,” you reply, “I apologize for any bruises that might appear due to dragging you.”

He lets out a chuckle, his eyes shining with appreciation. But something is still missing.

“Are you okay?” you ask, a bit hesitant. “Not just the shoulder injury, but in general? You were kinda manic before you passed out on me.”

Doyoung is quiet for a moment. You decide to sit next to him on the med table, equally silent.

“I haven’t gotten shot in a while,” he tells you. “I started panicking because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to tell you….”

“Tell me what?”

“I like you.”

He says it so softly, you barely hear it. He says it so bluntly, you barely believe it. You turn to look him in the eyes, and you find Doyoung’s face to be at peace, staring with a quiet smile settled upon his lips.

“You like me?” you ask, making sure you heard correctly.

“Yeah, I do.”

You can’t help the way your face scrunches up, “Since when? How? We always fight…”

He runs his hand lightly down your forearm in an affectionate way. “Sure, we have our arguments, but we make a good team.” he tells you, “I like that you always seem to know what I’m thinking before I do.”

“Oh.”

You don’t really know what else to say. Your mission partner who you have reluctantly found yourself getting close to has turned your world upside down.

Doyoung pulls you out of your thoughts again as he asks, “Can you tell what I’m thinking about right now?”

Tilting your head, you hate to admit that you can tell. His gaze roams around your face, settling on your mouth. You slowly look to his own.

His lips twitch up into a bright smile before he softly connects to yours. It’s light and chaste, but your head spins. Suddenly your partner in crime seems like he might be more after all.

#doyoung #doyoung x reader #doyoung x you #nct #nct fanfic #doyoung fluff #kim doyoung #sci fi au #doyoung au #nct scenarios #doyoung scenarios #my writing

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dennou-translations · 4 years

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Violet Evergarden Gaiden: Chapter 4

Please feel free to message me about possible corrections. If you can, consider supporting the creators by purchasing the official releases here.

← Previous || Index || Next →

Writing letters was similar to singing tunes.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. I rush anywhere my customers might desire. I am from the Auto-Memories Doll service, Cattleya Baudelaire.”

Such was the pet theory of a certain Auto-Memories Doll, and she truly did think that way.

“Well, I’m going to begin, okay?”

Singing required people to put together a scenario in their heads, and therefore, it was also similar to painting.

“‘Mert, have you been doing fine? Thank you for the letter. Your letters are encouragement for me.’”

The moment she would take a breath to begin writing was when she would start singing.

“My, I mistyped. Let’s do it over.”

Once the recipient received the letter, how would they react? How would they feel about those words?

“It’s natural that you want to tell him to study hard... but if that occupies most of the letter, it’ll get tiring. Your younger brother was pushed into a boarding school, right? It doesn’t look like he’d have much fun there, so I think it’s better to take the direction of saying that he’ll grow up the way you did and become free from home if he puts effort into his studies. But if we write about you praising yourself too much, it’ll get boring, so let’s be moderate. All the more if you want to receive a reply.”

She would picture it in her head.

“Well, then, on from where we stopped.”

There was a beginning and an end to melodies. How they could differ from being remarkable or otherwise gently cheerful depended on the song she was playing, but from the start to the middle, things would gradually become more exciting.

The typewriter’s noise was the piano. The rustling of the fountain pen was the violin. Lastly, the clatter of the cymbal would ensue, bringing it to an end.

“How’s that?”

The finished letter turned into a living being. Each sound of each word danced about, and human vitality could be felt in the smell of ink. The letter had become a story.

Cattleya Baudelaire performed her ghostwriting in that fashion.

Auto-Memories Dolls and their customers were world-building cooperators that created the tales, music and images called “letters”. The more time they spent together and the richer the contents of the letters were, the closer their hearts would be to one another. However, there were people who would reach that level at once, even within an unusually short span.

“Would you... accept going out with me?”

Such as that client.

Cattleya Baudelaire

As of late, a certain establishment was popular in Leiden, the capital of Leidenschaftlich.

The owner of the building that used to be a reception hall had reformed it into a space where people could enjoy sweets and music – “Café Magnolia”. The citizens of Leiden admired the place, in which one was only finally allowed to enter through waiting for a month after having made a reservation. It was a desired spot where people would have their eyes watering at the decorations of the marvelous interior and could bask in the music of pianists whom remained there constantly.

The players changed depending on the day and hour. Perhaps because a place where young musicians performed was also a place for seeking patrons, the age range of the visitors was wide.

As they let out emotional sighs, it would seem that Cattleya and the one sitting with her were the youngest in the shop. Just as the rumors had it, the prices in the menu handed to them were high, but as they saw the dishes brought over, they understood the worthiness of the investment. Money could hardly purchase the emotion instigated by a three-level cake stand.

She and her companion decided to pick the items they liked one by one. Firstly, after much indecision, she chose the apple pie. Excitedly bringing closer the plate of apple pie that was next to her, she thrust her fork into it. Upon having one mouthful, she realized that it was what she had wanted. Eating something sweet inside a warm shop was the true pleasure of winter.

Lux Sibyl, who sat across her, was unable to lay her hand on a chocolate cake even as it sat in front of her. It looked extremely delicious. Cattleya wanted to eat it.

As the waiter had brought the cakes in the middle of their conversation, the topic cut off completely at the good part.

“Cattleya, and then what?”

“This is the best... Ah~, really~, thanks for hanging out with me, Lux! Isn’t this place so expensive? Besides, you can’t finish a three-level stand if you don’t love sweets. Everyone told me no, but isn’t that stupid? You’d have to be pretty dumb not to eat this, right?”

“Yep, I think it’s a wonderful shop. Well, then, Cattleya—”

As if to interrupt Lux as she at last uttered those words, Cattleya continued, “By the way, have you heard? Didn’t the President buy some land? Like, the one he made into a base for our production factory. They say there’s a legendary waterfall near that village. If you bring home a stone from the bottom of the water, your dreams come true... How about we go together next time?”

“This kind of legend is no use if you go with someone, right? But that’s not it, Cattleya. I want to get back to the previous topic.”

Putting a sugar block processed into the shape of a star in her tea and mixing it, Cattleya answered, “Ah, the talk about me getting asked out, was it? Yep, I declined.”

“EH~~~~~~?”

Cattleya found herself thinking about strange things, such as how the sugar must be feeling good if it was melting in that kind of tea. It might be that her head was in a daze from the sudden ingestion of too large an amount of sugar. Or was the problem that the two were currently talking about actually the one to blame?

“That’s ‘cause he told me it was on the condition of marriage.”

It was not the first time Cattleya Baudelaire was proposed into a romantic relationship, but that had been the first person to make her conscious of marriage ever since she had been born.

“EH~~~~~~~?”

“Lux, you’re noisy.”

As her voice had indeed been loud, Lux put both hands over her lips after restlessly scanning her surroundings. “Is he that person who came by the company?”

“Right. That person who came by the company is him.”

“I have the feeling he was a cool guy... He’s a bit older than you, but that’s also charming, so to say.”

As Cattleya told her to eat up, Lux finally brought the cake into her mouth. While chewing without uttering her impressions of it, she waited for Cattleya’s next words.

“Lux, you sure enjoy listening to other people’s love matters even though you yourself aren’t in a relationship, huh?”

“I do. I mean, it’s still early for me to be into that stuff, so it’s like an encounter with the unknown...”

Lux Sibyl had the title of president’s secretary, but her figure as she spent her time so peacefully was that of a little girl. Moreover, she had lived most of her life being controlled by a cultist organization, and so she was most certainly a novice to everything. There was no mistaking that Cattleya’s was one of the problems in the textbook of romance between women and men.

“I want to try it one day too, but right now, I want to listen to other people’s stories. Okay, go on.” Lux’s heterochromatic eyes were full of curiosity.

“He runs a perfume store here in Leiden. He’s a perfumer. His name is Chris. I passed by his store a while ago and it seems to be doing well. He also looks like a good man; his face isn’t bad and he’s got a soft demeanor. That’s right, he seems like he’d make a good husband if he got married. He’s a man that women get attached to.”

“Cattleya, don’t you like him?”

Being asked so, Cattleya was deep in thought. Between choosing if he was either her type or not, she would say he was. However...

“I wonder. I don’t really know. He feels different from what I tend to like.”

...the face of one person surfaced in her mind.

“The one I like isn’t a person who’d fall for me, huh.” She rested her chin on her hand and sighed.

“Aah, President Hodgins. Indeed, I think it’s impossible with him. Not because it’s you, Cattleya, or anything of the sort. It’s because the President plays with fire where it won’t harm the company, so with fellow members, that’s… He’s the sort of person who experiences romance in a properly logical way. He just likes romantic relationships and women, so he doesn’t fall in love.” As expected of someone who was always together with him from morning to night, Lux, who usually gave gentle and modest responses regarding other people, described the individual named Claudia Hodgins with her merciless side.

“Hm~. That’s right. President Hodgins. He does give off that feeling after all, doesn’t he?”

“He does. I think President Hodgins is probably waiting for a fated person. It feels like he won’t marry anyone if this person doesn’t show up... But a woman that President Hodgins would throw everything away for and dedicate himself to is just...”

“What about Violet?”

As the name of the friend that both of them had in common was mentioned, Lux made an X with her arms. “Eh~, Violet is his family already. Besides, Violet has... that man.”

“Is that so? I see. It can’t be her.”

“Right, can’t be her. That’s why I told him that I think there’s no such person in the world.”

“What did President Hodgins say?”

“He told me, ‘Little Lux, that’s horrible; I’ll take it out of your pay’. He pretended to be crying.”

Cattleya was able to imagine it and burst into laughter. Lux did not manage to hold back either and giggled with a “huhuhu”.

While the conversation became lively, a second serving of black tea arrived. The next cake she picked was a tart decorated with fruits and candy sculptures. It was expectedly delicious. She wanted Violet, who had come into the topic, to try it as well. She had not seen the latter in a while.

Violet was the most demanded Auto-Memories Doll. She was currently somewhere around the continent. It would have been great if she were present.

“Y'know, I’ll say this because we ended up talking about it... I declined dating him, but I accepted going together for a meal... with Mr. Chris.”

If Violet Evergarden were in that place, what would she have said in reply to Cattleya’s statement?

“Have you become friends with him?”

——Yeah, feels like she’d ask something as off-handed as that.

Although she was not Violet, Lux had a good reaction in her own way. She moved her chair with a clang, pitching forward. The three-level cake stand interfered with the distance between the faces of the duo.

“W-Why? I-Is this the beginning of a for-fun relationship? Cattleya, you do that kind of stuff?”

As it was quite a misunderstanding, Cattleya denied with impressive vigor, “Wrong, wrong! I may have these looks, but I’m pure-hearted when it comes to romance, y’know? What I said when I rejected him was that I couldn’t date on the premise of getting married to someone I didn’t know very well… so the talk turned into ‘then please get to know me’… The other was a client, so I couldn’t strongly refuse him.”

“Eh~, how rare. Isn’t it so Cattleya-ish to firmly tell the people you don’t like that you don’t want it? Were you feeling ill?”

“Oh, Ms. Lux. That’s badmouthing, isn’t it?”

“It would be badmouthing if I were giving a critique, but as a friend, I like that unwavering side of you. Besides, I think that’s essential for Auto-Memories Dolls. Aren’t the female Auto-Memories Dolls actually wooed all the time by the costumers? Like, have you heard the rumors about that girl from the Guardian Company?”

“The one about how she was going to fall into the hands of some big-name politician, but her postman boyfriend showed up climbing the slope, chased him off and confessed to her in the end! I know it! That one really makes my heart race!”

“I get you! To top it off, those two were childhood friends, they say. My, honestly. Isn’t that romance novel level?”

“I really like the climax where he goes, ‘She’s mine~’. From that book you lent me, I mean.”

“The ‘Chronicles of the Star Knight Order’? From the part where the protagonist offers her body to the grandmaster? Chapter three of the second volume?”

“That one~! It’s very similar to what happened. Huh, aren’t we getting off-topic?”

“We are. Sorry, I was the one who deviated from it... Ah, this cake is delicious.”

As the flow of the conversation between the two women turned into a commonplace one, they decided to calm down for a moment.

Cattleya helped herself to a third cup of tea. The pot became empty, and so they requested seconds to a fine-looking waitress.

Customers who ordered the three-level cake stand had free second servings of either black tea or coffee. Cattleya deemed it a good arrangement. Such thoughtfulness was important. She was already starting to think about whom she would come with on her next visit to the place.

“Cattleya, is it okay if I eat the scone?”

“Sure thing. It’s plain, though, but is it tasty?”

“I like it a lot. Might like it more than cake. That’s right, the continuation. When is your date?”

“It’s tomorrow.”

“EH~~~~~~~?”

“Lux, you’re noisy.”

“That’s ‘cause…” Lux protested, her face red. “Hey, hey, if… if you end up thinking after this date that going out with Mr. Chris wouldn’t be so bad, it’d be a date on the premise of going out, wouldn’t it?”

“It would for him, but I...”

“Cattleya, if you don’t have that intention, it’d be fine if you didn’t go, right? You’ll go, won’t you?”

“I will...”

“Then, tell me the results, ‘kay?”

Being asked so with a grin, Cattleya replied with a “if I feel like it”. Lux gave her a sullen look.

Cattleya took her eyes off the complaining Lux, watching the scenery out the window. The roadside trees that would have been filled with fresh verdure if it were summer, their frames devoid of any leaves and completely naked, as well as the outdoors where cold winds blew fiercely appeared somewhat sad. The people walking on the streets had their backs arched, holding the collars of their coats together.

She could also see the figures of postmen running their motorcycles around. Despite not thinking that it was him, Cattleya wound up leaning her body over the window to take a look. It indeed was not him. The other did not have blond hair, and even from far away, she could immediately tell that he had a completely different face and body. He just happened to also be a postman.

“What’s wrong?”

Cattleya had overreacted to a mere postman. Upon being asked the question by Lux, she answered with “nothing”, her voice sounding as though her heart was not there. She sat well-mannered back on her seat.

“Hey, what happened, really?”

“I thought it might be him.”

“Hm? What?” Lux asked again, perhaps not having heard it well.

Puckering her lips, Cattleya answered, “Benedict.” Her tone was prickly.

With an “ah”, Lux soon understood what she had been attempting not to say. Tilting her neck a little, Lux giggled, “Feels like it’s been a long time since he left, huh... Whenever I see someone in the city turn around the corner on a motorcycle, I also find myself thinking that it might be Benedict. Everyone asks me if there isn’t any correspondence from him yet like it’s an every day thing.”

“Aren’t there any letters or postcards from him?”

“Nothing... Hey... Cattleya, today’s the first time you’ve asked about that, right...? Ever since Benedict reported a leave of absence.”

Almost like a child being scolded by an adult, Cattleya dropped her gaze. “Can’t I...? I-I used to fight with him a lot, but we’ve been buddies since the founding days!”

“I didn’t say you can’t, Cattleya.”

“He’s really heartless. He told the President and Violet that he was stepping away from the company!”

“Yup.”

“Even though... Even though I was also there from the start...!”

“Yup. Makes you lonely, huh?”

Lux’s honesty precisely described the feeling that Cattleya had been trying to hide. She was lonely. Except, if she were able to say it, she would not be puckering her lips and spouting complaints.

“I don’t wanna say that I’m lonely even if my mouth splits!”

Cattleya Baudelaire was not that kind of woman.

She pierced a cake with her fork and forcibly thrust it into her mouth. She chewed it, downed it at once with tea, and violently pierced the cake again. It might be that she thought of the cake as if it were Benedict.

“It’s already been three months. Winter is ending and it seems like spring’s about to arrive, huh… Yet the President doesn’t let anyone touch Benedict’s motorcycle... I also haven’t removed him from the employee name register.”

Hearing Lux’s words almost as consolation for her, Cattleya puffed her cheeks. “I’m not lonely!”

“Hm-hm.”

“The President’s being himself too. Simply lets an employee leave when he asks for it without knowing when he’ll be back.”

——I’m a disgusting fellow.

Although the truth was that she did not want to be defaming him, she detested having her feelings exposed.

“Even if he comes back just like that, I won’t talk to him. ‘Cause he left without talking to me,” she spat out her negative emotions as a distraction. She basked in the kindness of Lux, who laughed as if troubled by hearing that.

She had been pondering over someone to listen to what she had to say today in that place. She had chosen Lux.

Lux said gently, as if to soothe her, “I’d be happy if he came back, though…”

It was almost as if she represented Cattleya’s inner thoughts.

“I’m someone who started working there midway, but I think he’s a good person, though he has a foul mouth. After I was brought in by Violet and hired to work under President Hodgins... the one who’d come talk to me every now and then almost looking concerned was Benedict. He’s nice to girls younger than him. Besides, thinking about the company’s management as the President’s secretary, he’s needed. There’s never enough people in the postmen personnel. Many of them soon quit after being recruited and employed, so people like Benedict, who roam around a lot even while complaining and have leadership skills, are really important staff. He should be involved with the company’s management in the future. As the spokesperson of the employees, that is. I’m sure our administrator, the President, feels this way too. Also, Cattleya, there was no helping that you didn’t know. I mean, you were far away because of your Auto-Memories Doll work. It might be that Benedict had wanted to tell you but couldn’t. No, surely he wanted the number of people he had to say goodbye to to be small. Looks like something really terrible happened to him. Violet and the President won’t tell me anything, though. But the two said he’d come back, and Benedict himself has that intention too, so maybe he didn’t say it on purpose. Isn’t he the kind of person who hates sappy stuff, that guy? Let’s wait for our selfish Benedict. I’m also one of the people that he didn’t say anything to.”

Whispered slowly in a quiet and lovely voice, the prolonged statement pierced straight into her chest. Rather than the contents of what was spoken by Lux, Cattleya was stunned at the excessive broadness of her views and the wideness of her heart’s capacity. Lux was a girl younger than her, but could almost be thought of as her mother.

“Why do you have to be such a good kid…?”

She wound up feeling miserable about how immature she was despite being the older one in their afternoon tea party.

After that, they left all sorts of things aside, fooling around and going on a stroll for the first time in a while. They went through bookshops and adorable general stores, as well as fashion boutiques for their respective differing tastes. Whenever the clerks asked, “Are you sisters?”, they would laugh and answer, “We’re colleagues and friends”.

As sunset time came about, they headed to the office, holding several shopping bags. Cattleya tagged along with the diligent Lux, who claimed she wanted to get over with at least a little of the work that she had left undone the previous day.

With nothing to do, Cattleya went to the president’s room. Hodgins was absent, a cactus and small potted plants sitting on the president’s desk instead with an odd sense of displacement to them, as well as a note that used them as paperweight. “Business and dinner. Be back at night,” it said. As she showed it to Lux, the latter deciphered, “This means going out for dinner with the woman he’s making a move on lately” with a displeased face. It seemed he would in fact properly come back at night. That much was a given, for he had his residence in the company.

The two had dinner together afterward and split. As they had talked so much, although she bid her farewells cheerfully, Cattleya felt lonely after walking three steps.

She would be on vacation the next day as well. While dispirited and lonesome from parting ways with someone even though she knew they would see each other again soon, she went home. She spotted a stray cat on the way and gave chase, but did not manage to pet it.

“I’m home.”

Once she sat on the slightly dusty bed of the residence that she did not come back to very often immediately upon arriving, she lay down naturally. She then stirred up with a “shouldn’t do that, shouldn’t do that” and wiped off her make-up.

With her stunning facial features, people frequently thought that Cattleya’s make-up was too dense, but there was actually not much difference from before and after she applied it. As each part of her face had a distinct structure, she would merely look a little younger.

After taking a hot bath, she took out of her closet a negligee that she had bought but never worn and changed into it. Wondering what phase the Moon was in that evening, she looked out the window, but it was not visible. Instead, she could only see the twinkling of a few stars. Dressed in her negligee and brushing her hair, Cattleya eyed the lights of each house. They reminded her that, unlike herself, who was living alone, there were people living in the company of others.

——Married couples are actually amazing, huh.

That form of love, which could be considered a contract carried out all over the world, could not be conceived without a second party. She would probably do it someday. Or so she believed when she was a child, but she had not yet met a man that she would likely marry after having become of age. Perhaps she would never.

——Being with someone for your whole life even though it isn’t a person that you’re in love with would be impossible for me.

Since that was her situation in regards of just marriage, she was even less able to imagine herself having a child. After all, Cattleya thought, she was like a child herself. Even so, as the trends of society were composed in a way that urged her on, she had a vague sense of obligation to do it.

Such sense of obligation caused her to taste a coffee-like bitterness. It was by no means savory.

——I wonder if there’re other girls out there going to sleep with the same feelings as me.

It would be better if not, but she found herself wishing that there were. She hoped said girls had female friends who could tell them that everything was all right.

——I’m glad I have a job.

Working enabled her to deviate a little from the demands that she had as a woman to fulfill such obligation. As she thought about the word “obligation”, it pierced her heart indirectly.

——Benedict didn’t have any obligation to tell me anything.

He had been stuck in her mind all along. Much like a small cut, it ached.

Cattleya had not been allowed into Benedict’s life, plain and simple. Whatever he did was of his own concern. That was all. He was under no commitment to report anything to her.

Nevertheless, Cattleya had intended to get along well with him. They did fight often, but somehow or other, she had the feeling that he was the one she got along with the best. That had been a misunderstanding on her part.

——I’m... always like this.

In Cattleya’s life, it was not one or two times that she had misinterpreted getting along with someone when it was actually not the case.

——‘Cause I’m an idiot.

It might be that everyone was putting up with being together with her.

——I’m... definitely...

Perhaps she was the kind of person who could never become somebody’s significant other.

Thinking about it caused her to feel anxious and sad, tears coming out of her eyes, and so she rolled onto the bed, covering herself past her head with her blankets. Blocking the outside world had her slightly relieved. She pleaded that the morning did not have to come. Her worries and sorrows would all melt away once she was asleep, much like the sugar in her black tea.

——...lonely.

To think Benedict Blue’s absence would make her so weak.

“Give up,” another side of her reveled in her head.

Right. She had no choice but to give up. He was not fond of her and she no longer had room to enter his life.

——I’m lonely.

Rounding up like a fetus, Cattleya fell asleep.

As if the coldness of the previous day had been a lie, it was warm out in the next morning. Winter was truly about to end.

Cattleya stared outside by the windowsill for a while, but started dressing up as if to shake something off. She had decided what she would wear since the day before. With the face of the person that she was going to meet in mind, she had picked from her various colorful outfits a white cache-cœur one-piece. It was slightly open at the chest, but not as much as usual.

When people with plump breasts dressed into clothes that did not fit the curves of their bodies, it would seem as though they had put on weight and their shape would expand into a different width as suggested by the outfit, almost as if they were clad in papier mache. It could be said that her attire was the best one to show for the first time out of her personal clothes.

She had considered putting on a black cape coat, but as the temperature had risen, she went with a lighter beige-rose gown coat. Lining up her nine-centimeter and five-centimeter heel shoes, she chose a five-centimeter one. They were probably only going to have a meal, but if they happened to go for a walk, nine-centimeter heels would take up time and make her feet hurt. After taking out a clutch bag in which only her wallet and lipstick could fit, she was ready.

As she went outside, the landlord of the rented house that she occupied was sitting on a bench at the edge of the road. She greeted him while passing by his side.

In the residential district where Cattleya lived, there were many elderly people living alone, as well as family households. Having been secluding themselves in their homes out of cold during midwinter, the elders were all strolling around. Caught up in their sluggish way of walking upon observing them, her fast pace reduced.

Going down the alleyway that led to the central part of the city, she could hear the sound of a piano from somewhere. The player was most likely a child, but they had probably practiced quite a lot with the windows closed in winter. The playing was more skilled than what she had heard back in autumn. It gave her an extremely real feeling that people were taking root and living their lives. In her continuous commissions, she would rush about every day, ignoring such scenery and sounds.

“Guess I’ll... quit being an Auto-Memories Doll in the future.”

She found herself wanting to lead an unchanging daily routine in that same city. In that sense, someone who worked in a shop fixed within city lines might be the best relationship partner.

As she approached the front of the restaurant that they were supposed to meet at, regardless of it being a little earlier than the arranged time, the person in question was standing there. It was a man of burned-umber hair, with a thin frame but tall stature. He wore a trench coat over a jacket and shirt. He was the perfumer who ran a popular perfume shop in Leiden.

“Mr. Chris.”

A cache-cœur one-piece had indeed been the right pick, Cattleya thought. The restaurant pointed no dress-coats but the clothes that she had chosen instead. Suitable of a port capital such as Leiden, the restaurant apparently served a delicious shellfish.

“Ms. Cattleya. Thank you for coming. It’s warm today, isn’t it?”

“Yes, spring arrived all at once, huh?”

He casually held out his forearm and guided her into the restaurant. Instead of the sweet scent that Hodgins would have, of something like briars within sweet vanilla, he smelled of refreshing greenery.

——I prefer President Hodgins’s scent.

She was fond of the hunger that she felt whenever sniffing it from nearby. Being enveloped by the smell of something sugary gave her a feeling of glee. Today, too, she had actually wanted to eat cake since morning.

——What did he smell like again?

A blond man who had a bad way with words crossed her mind. Putting on cologne was not his taste. He probably did not smell of anything. One day or other, he would be clad in the scent of rain or reek of sweat – he was the type of man who wore his own odor.

“How about we pick our drinks?”

Having been shown to her seat, she scanned the menu. For safety, she chose a fruity wine as her drink. When reflecting on what to eat, she was informed that a pre-determined meal course had already been prepared. They had escaped having to evaluate in order to decide.

——He’s used to this, huh.

He would smile whenever they locked eyes, and so she would naturally end up smiling too.

“By the way, I got a reply from my little brother to that letter.”

“Ah, how was it?”

“More sincere than the usual. All thanks to you being the one who wrote it. We’re far apart in age, so... even though I find him so cute that I can’t help myself, he’s on one hell of a rebellious phase. It’s been hard to communicate my intentions.”

Starting with appetizers, the two ate in sequence each dish served to them as they were brought over.

“Aah... I understand. I’m on the opposite side. I’m the youngest child, and other than me, there’s nine... older brothers.”

“‘Nine’? That’s incredible.”

The conversation did not feel unpleasant. Back when being commissioned by him, she had felt from the beginning that he was someone easy to interact with. Never had he become incomprehensibly angry or flared up at her. Like how a certain someone would.

“My oldest brother was over ten years older than me, and to a youngest daughter with an older brother like that, the eldest son was someone irritating, ‘cause he’d get praised just by showing up at our house while I was always being scolded.”

“I see. But I’ve also had a tough time in the process of my growth.”

She could tell that he was trying to have her enjoy the conversation. He had an adult composure.

“On top of that, Mr. Chris, we think we can’t compare to people like you, who reign over the other siblings as someone who works hard and is successful, and we’re treated as lesser no matter what we do, so it’s even more complicated.”

“I wonder if that’s like what I feel towards my father. He’s a trader, and I’m no match for him at all.”

“Even though you run such a popular store?”

“I have yet to earn passing marks from my father.”

——Did you ask me out because I reached the passing marks to be your marriage partner?

She used the shellfish to push down the words that seemed about to come out of her throat.

“In my family, it’s customary that everyone has a ship of their own. Want to go for a ride when it gets warmer?”

“That ship is probably not like the kind I have in mind, is it?”

“What were you imagining?”

Being asked so, she answered honestly, “A ferryboat.”

That was a small boat used to move from shore to shore. Chuckling, he replied, “It’s a little bigger than those.”

From the way he laughed, she guessed it was probably quite a huge ship.

Cattleya looked at the man named Christ once again. She liked the gentle eyes that peeked from underneath his burned-umber hair and his slow manner of speaking, she thought. He did not lack anything. On the contrary, she was the one full of defects, which made her want to question why he had chosen her as companion for today.

She attempted asking frankly, “Why... did you ask me out?”

Chris showed an aspect of surprise at the prodding into the heart of the matter, but responded levelly without glossing things over, “I often have to be cautious at work, Ms. Cattleya, so I fancy carefree women like you. It’s fun, like normal. Being with you, that is.”

“Aren’t you being super careful right now?”

“It’s not like that. I mean, sure, I’m making an effort so you’ll enjoy yourself. But there’s an ease to it. You probably wouldn’t be too disappointed if I showed you an ugly side of me in this date, right?”

“‘Ugly side’?”

“Like getting pasta sauce on my shirt. Or letting coins spill out of my wallet when paying the check.”

“I do stuff like that too. I’d ask, ‘what are you doing~’, but I’d help you out.”

“That’s it; this much carelessness is just great. The costumers who visit my store have a demerit system, so there’s no mistaking that we need to have them make their purchases with beautiful gestures and with a sense of refinement to it. I used to think Auto-Memories Dolls were also like that, but you were completely different. The moment we met, you greeted me with a cheerful ‘Hello!’. It was also really easy to get advice for the ghostwriting. We’d just met for the first time, but it felt like I was hanging out with some girl who lived in my neighborhood.”

“O-Our most demanded Doll deals with the costumers in an elegant way, unlike me. I’m... I’m no good. Besides, Mr. Chris, there are many girls like that. Aren’t there some of them among the girls that frequent your store?”

“There aren’t beautiful women who are as easygoing and nice as you at all.”

“Is it about my face?”

“You’re pretty.”

“I...”

“Also, you’re cute. You’re probably much competed for, but I wanted to have you, is what I thought. That’s my reason.”

Being told so, in spite of her embarrassment, Cattleya’s chest filled with happiness. She wondered how someone who could give off such a feeling of certainty was single. She could not refrain from suspecting that he had some sort of dubious habit.

“Mr. Chris, could it be that you’ve been married once and have a child or something?”

“I haven’t yet even taken anyone as my fiancée.”

“Do you wander around night after night as a hobby or anything like that?”

“I have a disposition for getting sleepy as soon as I finish eating. I sleep before midnight.”

“Why are you single?”

“You too, why are you single?”

“I...”

“For starters, why do people get married?”

As his intonation changed, Cattleya looked at him sternly.

“There’s many motives, like the connection of a household and another, the continuation of a bloodline, financial assistance and romance, but don’t you think it’s okay not to be shackled by the contract called marriage?”

“Y-You asked me out on the basis of marrying me, yet you say something like that?”

“Sorry, sorry.” With a downcast look, Chris whispered, “How can I put it?” He wiped droplets from his empty champagne glass with his finger. “People around my age are treated like deviants if they aren’t married... but when you’re not blessed with any opportunities to get married, you end up thinking about lots of stuff. Like, ‘What’s marriage about?’. Or, ‘What’s falling for someone about?’. You see, whenever my parents come to my house, they’ll say, ‘My, there’s so much tableware even though you live by yourself’. I just happen to buy a lot of it because I come home tired and don’t wash the dishes for days. It’s not for someone else. What’s the point of getting married when I’m living for my own sake...? I think... and think...”

——The point of being in a romantic relationship while I’m living for my own sake...

“I can lead a life by myself, and my hobby is making perfumes, so I spend my free time secluded in my workshop. I get extremely happy when I pass by women around the city who wear my perfumes. I think I’d get even happier if I had a lover with me, but then the time I have for making perfumes would be reduced. I also think that, if so, it’d be reasonable to find a good person, get married and move in together. But can this be considered genuine love?”

——Being accepting of others while moving on with your own life. This and pure-heartedness just aren’t compatible.

“I... think you’re a wonderful person. I want to try falling in love with you. But when... impurities like having to marry you break into it, I immediately end up finding it stale. Even though I asked you out as a prerequisite for marrying you.”

“Like. I. Said. Why are you telling me this?”

At the slightly fed-up Cattleya, Chris raised both of his hands. “This is the reason why I can’t get married.” With a troubled frown, he kneaded his shoulder. “I dream with romance often. If I’m going to be in a relationship, I want to do it with being in love as the only point to it. Same goes for getting married. I like you, so just not wanting you to be taken by somebody else is a good enough reason. But when it comes to marriage, the pros and cons get mixed up. I also get stumped when I see the profits that the other person would gain by pursuing me. Even when I do get to date someone, my strength runs out before we go all the way. Like, ‘What, so this wasn’t a genuine one either’... But, if it’s with you... maybe even a straight-laced guy like me, who keeps thinking that love has to be done in a certain way, could age together almost as if we were friends... It’s not like I don’t want to fall in love. It’s that it doesn’t go right.” While speaking, perhaps because it had become difficult for him, Chris rested a hand on his front bangs, hiding his face. “For friends, it doesn’t matter much where you live or what you believe in, right? It’s fun to be with each other, and being together just for that reason is what friends are about. I believe I can have this kind of relationship with you... I’m asking you out on the premise of getting married, so I’ve tried... to put it honestly.”

Silence.

“Is that weird?”

“It’s... not... weird.”

——It’s not weird. It’s not weird at all.

“Even if... someone says it’s weird, I won’t.”

——No, I can’t say it.

After all, she was the same.

“Stupid woman.”

There was a voice in her head. A voice that she was yet unable to forget resounded.

“Cattleya.”

He had only ever called her name a few times.

“You, what’re you doing by yourself? Aah? Old Man left you behind?”

——If I’m going to be in a relationship, then let it be for the sole point of being in love.

“He~y, we’re getting complaints. Did you shake the client’s hand too hard again?”

——Because I like you.

“Old Man! Why’d you let her drink!? It was a pain in the ass sending her home!”

——Because I like you. Because I like you. Because I like you.

The feeling of “I like you” rushed about, almost as a revolving lantern. Her feelings for Benedict Blue were like an electric current.

——Why do I like him?

They were impactful and vibrant.

——The person in front of me is definitely better.

The revelation was unlike any other.

——But, I can’t with him.

It was as if it had been thrown into her face.

——Because love...

...was not electricity-powered.

——No matter what country you’re in, love...

...was not written with the verb “to do” but with “to fall”.

——If I still have someone I like, I can’t be in a relationship out of self-interest.

The one Cattleya had fallen for was not that person.

“Mr. Chris... I... understand.”

She could tell why she was unable to fall for the man named Chris at that very moment.

“I understand very, very well.”

She could tell why she should not jump into his life.

“I... understand.”

It went against the love rules of Cattleya Baudelaire. She was in love with Benedict Blue, after all. She had been having a bad feeling the whole time due to inflicting said rules.

——It’s... that idiot’s fault.

She had controlled herself as to forcefully stop being in love. She had made an effort to forget about it. Normally, she did not associate with her clients. Yet she had ended up thinking that she must do so. Because she did not have someone.

One could not be in a relationship by oneself.

“I... get you, so it’s definitely better... if we don’t date each other...!”

Still, if she did not kick off the feeling of being in love, she would surely be stuck with that sentiment forever.

“Mr. Chris, you’re just choosing someone who resembles yourself. I’m like that too. If I’m going to be in a relationship...”

According to Cattleya Baudelaire’s love rules...

“...if I’m going to be in a relationship, I also only need the feeling of being in love!”

...one should go after the other and confess.

The people inside the restaurant quietly regarded the voices of the excited pair. They flickeringly turned their gazes toward the two, but as Cattleya sat down after having stood up with excessive vigor, each went back to their respective conversations.

Dumbfounded, Chris opened his mouth, “You’re telling me that now?”

Tending to giggle, she replied after a moment, “You asked me out on the premise of marrying me, so I spoke honestly too.”

Chris mushily ran his hands through his hair. He then said intermittently, “We might really be alike...” He let out a moan and fell prostrate onto the table.

“I think so. Besides, if we were friends, we’d probably get along super well. Seems like we’d get into arguments too, though.”

“Because we’re alike?”

“Because we’re alike!”

Perhaps finding her bitter smile truly entertaining, Chris snorted and broke into laugher.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m the one who forcefully kept chasing you anyway...”

He called the waiter after that. She thought that he was going to request the check for certain, yet he up and picked a strong drink from the menu. He invited Cattleya to drink something as well.

“Eh, is it okay if I drink too?”

“Of course. Rather, please don’t go home. If you left now, it’d make things even harder. You dumped me the fastest out of the dates I’ve had until now, but the dessert hasn’t come yet and I don’t want to go home. I want to eat it together. It’s tough for a guy who assumedly got dumped to eat a dessert for two all by himself. I’m a sweet tooth.”

Being told so, Cattleya answered merrily, “Me too! But I haven’t dumped you. Nothing even began.”

“Indeed... it feels like it got cut off before it started.”

Oddly enough, the conversation they had afterward went smoothly somehow.

“Besides, instead of the beginning of a love that might end by the middle, Mr. Chris, isn’t the beginning of a friendship where it kinda seems like we’ll get along really well just what you need? In the end, rather than having fallen in love with me, you’re just personally picking someone to somehow satisfy your own dreams and self-interests, right?”

“No... Well... yeah.”

“Self-interest is really no good. Being in love is important.”

“I like you, though, y’know?”

“Give up on me. I’m sure this would’ve turned out as not genuine too. Also, I actually have someone I like.”

As Cattleya said so, Chris finally worked the resolve to give up. And on top of that, he gave her harsh and open advice. Even though he had not become upset when being suddenly rejected, he lost his temper. “You, if you have a person you like, you shouldn’t have accepted to go for a meal with me, right?”

“I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t getting myself too well...”

“So even if you’d gone out with me, you’d have broken up halfway, wouldn’t you? That’s rude to me.”

“I’m very sorry.”

“Please apologize more; I’m requesting a formal apology. I hate this kind of thing the most.”

“I’m very sorry. Next time, I will treat you to sweets. Would you go with me to Café Magnolia?”

“Eh, that one-month-wait place?” His attitude abruptly mitigated.

“Yesterday, I tried going with a friend and it was really good, and my friend and I finished a three-level cake stand!”

“‘A three-level cake stand’...”

“You also get free seconds of black tea.”

“That’s tempting...”

“Seriously, it feels like that sugar content deals you a physical blow, and it’s the best. The shop itself is also wonderful. It’s hard for a guy to go there by himself, right?”

As both rid themselves of the part of them that was being cautious of the other, they indeed talked quite some. Chris could not deny the feeling of becoming thoroughly distressed, but was a gentleman until the very end.

They ate the dessert, had an after-meal tea, and afterward, they passed by Chris’s shop, where he created a perfume fitting of Cattleya from scratch. The shop had a good air to it, to the point she wanted all of the lined-up products. Perhaps she could have had a future working there, but the one who had crushed it was Cattleya herself.

Making arrangements regarding the next day they would meet, they parted ways by evening.

“Manager, did you get dumped again? Why’d you make friends with the girl that rejected you?”

“Shut up.”

Hearing the exchange between Chris and a clerk before the shop’s door closed, Cattleya let slip a giggle.

As the blue sky merged with the sunset, Cattleya was crossing a bridge said to be the oldest of Leiden. Having an extensive view of both the city and the sea, the place granted the best sight. Lovers were leaning onto each other’s shoulders and enjoying the scenery from the bridge. There was also an elderly couple walking an old dog. Amongst them, Cattleya alone strode in high and proud spirits.

——Tomorrow, I’ll give President Hodgins a notification of leave.

Walking with five-centimeter heels, her feet were making lighter footstep sounds than that morning.

——Even if that guy makes a fuss, I’ll ask him the reason why he didn’t tell me about it.

She felt as if she had become unbound by anything.

——I’ll look for him, find him and tell him that I like him.

She would not mind being rejected. That man was at least supposed to let her say it.

“Like. You,” as she tried mustering it out in a low voice, she became contented. “Like. You.” Drifting away from the people going past her, she was not embarrassed of talking to herself. “Like. You. Like... you.”

Only carriages and cars passed by her side.

“‘Benedict, I...”

Her own shadow strolled with dance-like steps.

“...like you’.”

Those were the only things supposed to be beside her.

“You, what’re you doing?”

Suddenly, a motorcycle riding right by her side entered her field of vision. Much like a mishmash of garbage, the motorcycle had a strange frame. It was not something from that continent.

Cattleya moved her gaze lethargically. Slightly burned by the Sun, sandy-blond hair was visible. So were androgynous facial features. Except, they felt somewhat manlier than before.

“Ah~... by the way, long time no see. Been doing well?” His voice was rough and a little peevish yet strong-willed. “I was going back just now. I thought it might be you and followed after, but...”

Cattleya wordlessly stood bolt upright. Her face was completely red.

“What... was that... just now?”

Once she saw his shy expression as he scratched his cheek with a finger, she reached her limit. She forgot about her determination to go meet him and confess. Everything blew off and she broke into a run from the spot at full speed.

“Eh, hey! Hey, stupid woman!”

——This is the worst, this is the worst, this is the worst!

The five-centimeter heels had been the right choice. If she were with nine-centimeter ones, it would have been the death of her feet.

——What do I do?! Where should I kill myself?!

Her head was deranging from the embarrassment.

——Sh-Should I kill him? Would that be faster?

She could hear the sounds of the motorcycle chasing her. Although she wanted to run faster, the cache-cœur one-piece coiled around her body, making the wind resistance strenuous.

“Cattleya!”

There was also no way that a human being could win against a motorcycle, and so it seemed her arm was going to be grabbed by the moment he overtook her. Not wanting to be caught no matter what, Cattleya changed her course and headed to the bridge’s handrail.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!”

She threw away her clutch bag. She also took off her shoes. Without caring about her long legs showing from underneath the hem of her one-piece, she climbed onto the railing. Crouching, she turned toward him. “I’ll kill you if you come here!”

“You’re the one who’ll die!”

That was their first exchange upon reuniting. Being himself, Benedict also seemed to be losing composure, but spread out both of his arms as to accept her. Seeing that, Cattleya bit her lip.

——Aah, how happy those arms would make me if this were a different situation.

Now they were nothing but an obstacle hindering her suicide attempt.

“Calm down; quit trying to die and to kill me.”

Cattleya shook her head as though to say she was unwilling. “Did you hear what I said earlier?”

“I did.”

“Wait, let’s redo this. When I ask you if you heard it... tell me you didn’t... please.”

“Got it. Ask one more time.”

“Did you hear what I said earlier?”

“It’s the part where you said that you liked me, right?”

“GEEZ~~~~~~!”

He caught her as she flailed her arms. If she were an ordinary girl, he would have secured her and it would have ended there.

“You’re on.”

But Cattleya Baudelaire was not.

“Ouch, ouch—ow, ow, ow, ow!”

“Let. Go. Of. Me!”

Cattleya was the physically stronger one. She bent the inner side of the arm that had been grasped and started striking with a twist.

“Stupid woman! Stupidly strong woman!”

“I know I am!”

“Why’re you running away? I don’t get it! You like...”

“I don’t like you, I don’t like you, I don’t like you!”

“I get it! Stop! I get it already! I’ll leave it as that for now, so seriously, stop applying force for a bit!”

Her movements ceased completely. As Benedict let go, Cattleya did not get off the railing but sat back down.

“Don’t glare, don’t glare.” His eyes locked with Cattleya’s teary ones. Benedict was finally able to look straight at the colleague that he had not seen in a while.

She was dressed in a way that he could instantaneously tell she was off-duty. More adult-like than usual, she had her luster remarkably intensified. She was wearing a fragrance that had the scent of greenery, which had rubbed on her from Chris. It was obvious that she was back from a date.

Whatever Benedict thought of it, he burst out laughing, “Hahah, you... I really don’t understand you.”

“What’s with that...?”

“Hey, I get it already. Let’s talk in peace for a bit. How was the company while I was out? Weren’t there any weird incidents or something? How’re Old Man and V?”

Cattleya replied with puckered lips, “Not really. Everyone’s doing fine. President Hodgins and Violet, too.”

“And you?”

“I’m doing fine.”

“That so? I think you got thinner, though.”

As she had actually lost weight, Cattleya was surprised.

“Hey~, were you lonely, even if just a little?”

Silence.

“Y’know, not even a wild animal would glare like that.”

“I definitely don’t wanna tell the guy who didn’t say anything to me that I was lonely!” She attempted to kick him with a bare foot, yet she swung and missed.

Benedict climbed onto the railing and sat on it as though to line up with Cattleya.

——Smells of earth.

She could sense the scent of him, which changed depending on the day.

“I ended up coming back ‘cause I was lonely,” Benedict whispered with a falsely energetic voice. “I went looking for someone for a bit. But I seriously have no clues so I really just went in circles. I also used most of the money I’d earned from the company and now I nearly haven’t got a single penny. Even it’s a continent that I used to live in, I’ve got next to no acquaintances over there... so I ki~nda started thinking that I wanted to hurry back home and stuff like that...”

Having never seen that side of his, Cattleya was in a trance, forgetting to close her mouth.

“In the end, even though the places I went to weren’t any good, I was able to gather a little info, so I’m thinking of going there again when I save up more money. Well, it’s also a mystery whether or not she’s in that continent in the first place...”

Silence.

“Ah, it’s my little sister. I’m looking for her. By the way, say something.”

“You had a little sister?”

“Oh, I did. I definitely did.”

“Did she run away from home? I did too, though...”

“No, it’s more like we lived separated. You, is it okay for you not to go back? Your parents must be worried.”

“Impossible. I’m me, so... it’s hard. Enough of my matters. So, are you returning to the company?”

“Yeah. I don’t have any other place to go back to.”

——I see, Cattleya thought.

Benedict would return. That alone made her incredibly happy.

“That so? Saves the trouble.”

She was truly glad. Leaving aside the fact she was currently in an embarrassing situation, she was honestly happy for just that much.

“Welcome home,” she wound up saying, smiling naturally. “Don’t go away all of a sudden anymore, ‘kay?”

——I like you, after all.

Perhaps that feeling of hers...

“‘Cause I was about to try looking for you.”

...had seeped out.

A slightly strong wind gusted, her long dark hair getting on her face. “You’ve ended up unfolding a foolish-looking escape number, but isn’t it about time to get off the handrail?” suggested the serenity of the cold wind.

“Hey.” She was about to say, “Shall we get off?” but saw him raising his hand. Beyond it, she also saw a face that she had never witnessed from Benedict.

Her dark hair was caught in his fingertips. While pushing its way through, his approaching palm drew near her. It was not even a second later that their faces connected with one another.

——His hand is moving, but...

She could not bring herself to flee, push him away or anything of the sort. As their faces rubbed onto each other’s, she sensed something wet. Rather than the feeling of “Why are you doing something like this?”, what she thought about was, “Why are you crying?”.

“If I disappeared... would you look for me?” His face had distanced from hers, but the hand that had come close to her cheek firmly reached out to her back and she became incapable of running off. “Hey, would you?” His rough and slightly peevish, yet strong-willed voice had changed into one that sounded as if he were so lonesome that he had become unable to endure it and was holding back from sobbing.

“Took me three months to work up the resolve for it, but if this ever happens again, I’ll go look for you.”

Benedict Blue’s three-month journey might have been something far more arduous than she had thought, Cattleya finally perceived. He was truly so, so lonely. Thus, he came back to the city that had already become his homeland and to the people in it.

“Even if you didn’t know where I’d go to?”

For the time being, she would leave aside what he had done to her. It might have been trouble for her, but she did not take it as cruelty.

“You’re an idiot, so I think you’d definitely leave clues somewhere.”

Right now, it was certain that she should listen to what he had to say.

“I—What if I – what if, y’know – were living life having forgotten about you?”

“Eh, I’d cry...”

“You’d cry?”

“I would. Like normal. But if I could bring you back, I’d do it. I mean, the President would be sad too.”

“I... wonder if he misses me. He was making an okay face when sending me off.”

“One more cactus appeared in President’s room while you were gone, and that’s ‘cause he named it Benedict. He’s lonely enough that he seems about to buy himself a dog with the name Benedict or something one of these days.”

“Don’t lie...”

“It’s not a lie. Let’s go to the company now. There’s a cactus on his desk, I tell you. Everyone’s seen him going, ‘Benedict, grow on’ when watering it.”

“Kuku. That’s a lie, ain’t it?”

“Hey, c’mon. Let’s go. I was thinking of going home, but since you’re here, I wanna go to the office.”

“Hn~, just a bit more.” The strength of the arm that was holding Cattleya became even firmer.

If she thought of shaking it off, she would be able to, but by the looks of it, she would turn into just a girl when she was in front of that man. She wondered if she still had a piece of her mind to give about him doing such things to her. She did not, but even if she had, she would want to kill it off.

——Well, I guess... that can be after this heat cools down a tad more.

Cattleya herself also wanted to stay like that a bit longer.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“I said ‘welcome home’.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t ‘yeah’ me.”

“I’m back.”

“Well done.”

——If I’m going to be in a relationship, let it be with liking you as the only reason for it.

“Benedict, you know, I...”

That alone was good enough.

——If it’s not just for that, I don’t want it.

#violet evergarden #violet evergarden gaiden #fyeahvioletevergarden #kyoani #kyoto animation #cattleya baudelaire #benedict blue #lux sibyl #novel #akatsuki kana #takase akiko #my translation

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alchemist-shizun · 5 years

Text

Do cats exist? Debate.

Or: The Welcome To Night Vale au nobody asked for

Word count: 1,823

Taglist: @bookwormscififan @suffering-is-my-comfort-zone @pistachio-lan @pushussmollworld @be-more-chaotic @quietlypondering

Warnings: None that I can think of, there are references to the 4/9/16 episodes.

Characters: Virgil, Deceit, Logan(Mentioned)

Relationship(s): Implied Loceit (we have Dee pining a lot)

Summary: The town has a new favorite mascotte! That's right everybody, give it up for Virgil the black cat, about to charm his way to the conquering of the entire solar system. But, for now, he's sleeping and eating all day and giving out occasional love advice.

A/n: Me? Still refusing to give Deceit a name and just rolling with that? More likely than you think. Just so you know, at some point I wrote "Carlos" instead of "Logan". Another funny thing: I sent the first paragraph to a friend (Hi Gaia if you're reading!) that knows nothing about ts nor wtnv and demanded I absolutely sent her the fic when finished so, peak weirdness everybody. I had a lot of fun writing this, I kinda got in the vibe and just went for it, I could even say I'm somehow proud of how it turned out! But enough of me, I hope you enjoy this little piece 💖

✾

What was a perfectly ordinary day for Night Vale, with its wondrous citizens conducting their quotidian tasks and duties, the sun setting down maybe a slight bit later than the other days and the occasional pet kidnapped by ancient forgotten underground tribes that none should know about and that don't actually exist, couldn't end in anything but a perfectly ordinary night.

Deceit closed the door behind himself with a satisfied sigh; another eventful working day for the radio station had just passed and he let himself wander around the building in search of the bathrooms. Because, you know, sometimes they liked to change places.

Of course, his mere intentions were freshening up a bit and going home once and for all for the night, only that a looming figure above him darkened the room by covering the single source of light on the ceiling and caught his attention immediately.

When he looked up, he was met with a sleeping cat seemingly suspended in the air right next to the sink, which was his destination. Now, don't get him wrong, he wasn't exactly a cat person, but he wasn't a monster either and, well, he was going to wake the poor tired creature if he were to make too much noise!

Walking softly, Deceit made his way to the sink, eyeing carefully the floating creature.

Thoughts of the latest ongoing events traveled through his mind every so often mixing up with other inexplicable ones and just as much frequently going back to that amazingly stunning scientist.

Wasn't it remarkable how washing your face pulled you into an ineffable stream of thoughts in a matter of miserable seconds? Truly one of the quirks of the existence of life.

Deceit started walking back to the door when he heard shuffling in the air and low growling. He turned back to see the black cat on his back, still hovering above the ground, then rolling to get a good view of who had dared to intrude in his new territory.

He had to admit, he didn't realize it at first, but he would've gone back to that moment in the future and he would've labeled it as the exact instant he got raptured by those fascinating different coloured eyes, two little sparkly and attentive irises in the middle of ashen fur. The left one looked like a glacier, not that he had ever seen one close enough to determine its existence, but he could sense a chilly breeze at the sole thought; the right one, though, he wasn't sure. At first glance, it seemed green, only for it to then change to a light brown and, eventually, the more Deceit forced his sight, the more he thought he was seeing them at the same time in a weird yellowish combination. He decided to stop staring, as it wasn't polite.

Nothing of the animal's aura felt threatening, or alarmed at all. It was simply there, bouncing in the nothingness of the room, waiting for Deceit to make any kind of move with no particular expectation.

So he paced forward and gently reached for the cat with one hand: it didn't move, except for the slow calculated heaving of its chest with every breath. Deceit's hand reached the top of its head and, as soon as they shared contact through little caresses, the cat began to purr in contempt and closed its eyes, rubbing its head against his fingers as it decided it could trust him. A half-smile appeared on his lips.

« Oh my! » one of Deceit's coworkers stormed into the bathroom as soon as they saw the scene. « This is the most adorable being I've ever seen! »

Soon enough, a small pack of people was huddled around the cat as he (one of them stated he was, in fact, male) solely licked his paws and was offered food and water.

Now that was good news for the radio; Deceit was aware of the little classification of information that had been going on for millennia, thanks to Erodotus. First priority was a witnessed action, second place was for the action that a person heard from a witness and third came the determining of which could be categorized as potentially true events and which were definitely made up.

Sometimes there was a thin line between the two.

So, yes, as a witness, as soon as he got the chance, he was definitely going to update the town on their new claimed pet.

In a matter of weeks, he had become everybody's best friend and the town's listeners were always more than eager to be informed of how the adorable chubby boy of the radio station's bathroom was doing! Deceit himself couldn't stop sneaking out at times to give him a couple of treats.

I mean, come on, who could even resist those cute demanding eyes? Khoshekh's glare was too much to bear, he kept on getting what he wanted every single time. Gee, what an intelligent and charming cat he was. Who were humans against him? He could have ruled the world if he wanted. Was he going to? You could perceive a certain sparkle in his eyes ...

Maybe.

One day.

But at that time, he only cared for his precious treats and he was fine that way.

Five weeks had passed from the last update on the wonderful feline, when Deceit shut the door of the bathroom behind himself in a movement that reminded him much about the first time he saw Khoshekh.

His face fell in his hands.

« You need to know this. » Deceit's half-muffled voiced traveled through his fingers and reached the cat's ears. Something shifted in the air, but he was too busy pacing around the room and looking at the pavement tiles to realize what had happened.

The light of the room just a bit darker, the shade of the cat just a bit bigger.

Deceit trailed off, gushing about how Logan had called him and how he had acted like a total dumbass, but hey, if that was the price he had to pay to talk to him, he was more than willing to embarrass himself even more.

« For real, though. Can you believe I just said "neat"? Who even says it anymore? » he pinched the bridge of his nose as he heard a humming noise, a little too human to be coming from a cat.

Then again, Deceit was too lost in auto-commiseration to notice.

« Why don't you just ask him out? »

Wait, what?

He had been sure to close the door earlier, he hadn't heard none coming in at all, was he that lost in thought that he-

When his eyes turned to the door, there was none standing in its place, or coming either in or out.

Oh gosh, oh no.

Deceit sighed deeply. Did someone really turn invisible again?

« Over here. » the voice came back from behind him, which caused him to turn to the actual source.

Or not.

In front of him there was a boy definitely younger than him, completely dressed in black clothing and purple patches on his too big but definitely comfortable hoodie, which matched his hair color.

Now, where did he come from?

« Where's the cat? »

« What cat? There's never been a cat. »

Deceit notices the boy was floating mid-air and he had heterochromia. A blue eye and a greenish-brown one.

« You're absolutely right, my mistake. »

The boy crossed his legs and shrinked in his baggy clothing, letting his body be comforted by the softness of the materials.

« So, why don't you do it? » he repeated, looking down on him with a seemingly sleeping expression. Where those his dark circles right under his eyes?

« Oh, I don't think I could ever muster up the courage. »

« And yet, you're able to talk to the entire town at once. »

As much as that was true, Deceit felt deep down that there was no way one could compare Logan's stupendous existence with the one of an ordinary Night Vale citizen. There was really no way.

« He said he didn't need to meet me. » he retorted, clearly just making up excuses at that point.

« He did call you, of all people, though. »

Deceit's eyes widened at the realization. « Oh my god you're right. »

His head fell back in his hands as he replayed the entire conversation in his head for the billionth time, a quiet snicker from the boy filled the silence that was left.

The boy watched him talk to himself about infinite possibilities of where that was probably going.

Then, as if on cue, as if some kind of deity was watching down on them and deciding that was the best moment to strike with a train of coincidences, with a smile on their face so wide it might have fallen from the sky at any time, Deceit's phone rang again.

« It's him! » he exclaimed, surprise in his eyes. Another call? Was it Easter? Christmas came early?

« Go, have you privacy, it's almost time to go back to your room anyway. » how the boy knew that he didn't know, but he complied and excused himself, only to find his working place right next to the bathroom door.

It seemed that day was starting to favor him.

The boy in the bathroom waited.

He floated around the room, mostly by the sink, occasionally changing position. No other worker came by, apart from that lover boy.

He remembered him as the one to give him the most food and care, which would have explained his willingness to change form in his presence.

He had just started to drift back off to sleep, his head barely brushing the wall, when Deceit stormed back in with a huge grin on his face. Was that even a normal facial expression?

« I may have a date. »

« See? What did I tell you? »

He had barely time to speak as Deceit started explaining with a painstakingly accuracy every detail of the phone call and how Logan's voice sounded, so much that the boy could have perfectly imagined it and believed to have already heard it once.

« I need to get ready. » the man started making his way toward the exit.

« Isn't it tomorrow? »

« Yes, but I don't think I'm going to handle it if I don't mentally prepare myself for this. »

« Touché. »

After exchanging their goodbyes (and some food), Deceit was halfway through the door when the boy called out.

« And please, for the love of the glow cloud, tell them my name is Virgil! »

And Virgil hoped he had heard him, despite being lost in his own thoughts and scenarios.

He truly did hope.

#virgil sanders #logan sanders #sympathetic deceit #deceit sanders #loceit #sanders sides #fanfiction #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #wtnv #welcome to night vale #sanders sides au #wtnv au #purp's writings

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ahnsael · 4 years

Text

Two years later, the last physical remnant of the trouble I got into is going away tomorrow.

The DMV removed the restriction from my license today (it was a three hour wait, which I didn’t expect going in the middle of the week at opening time, but I’m glad I got it done -- I could have done it a month ago but was nervous about the process of getting these last loose ends tied), and after a couple games of phone tag between the manufacturer of the device and the auto shop which services it to finalize approval on both of their ends, tomorrow I get the ignition interlock removed from my car.

Now there’s just the SR-22 insurance for two more years before I can go back to regular insurance (but the SR-22 isn’t much more expensive than the regular version anyway).

We have a guy at work who’s mind isn’t in it lately. Because he just his FOURTH DUI. His third was a legal battle (three in seven years becomes a felony and involves prison time and there was a question as to whether it was from the occurrence of the first one or the sentencing and the court gave him the benefit of the doubt but then he did it AGAIN two months later). I don’t see how you don’t learn your lesson after the first one. And even if not then, the punishment is more severe for subsequent instances. So he’s looking at a lengthy prison sentence this time.

I got 48 hours. Well, technically 62 days, but 60 days were suspended pending my completion of other court-ordered responsibilities like both group and individual counseling, DUI school, a victim’s impact panel (in which victims of crashes caused by drunk drivers told their stories -- including some VERY graphic images), being under the watch of “alternative sentencing” for a year (basically that meant zero drinking, random tests to see whether I had had anything to drink, home visits to see if I had any alcohol around, all of which punishable by either a day in jail or kicking in the entire 60-day suspended sentence), having an interlock installed in ANY car I might drive for a year after reinstating my license (I only drive my own so I only needed the one, at $67 per month which from what I’m told is a pretty good price; I’ll have to pay “$50-$60 or somewhere around there, I’m not entirely sure” tomorrow when I get it removed but it SUCKS for people with no credit/debit card because it’s literally the ONLY way you’re allowed to pay, keeping low-income people without a card from being able to fulfill that obligation and that order does NOT expire a year from sentencing, it expires one year FROM WHEN YOU REINSTATE YOUR LICENSE and you can’t reinstate your license until you have the device installed -- I had to show the DMV the installation paperwork last year), and SR-22 insurance (including Statement of financial Responsibility -- that’s the SR part) for three years.

At one point as I talked to the (actually very nice) DMV lady today she asked whether I still had the device installed or whether it had already been removed. She framed it as a way to say “Show them this temporary license which shows no restriction and they’ll be able to remove it” but I’m guessing it was a “gotcha” question, as removing it before having the restriction removed from my license would have violated the restriction of my license. But I bet they get people saying “My year was up last week so I had it removed,” therefore getting themselves in more trouble (I was actually half-expecting them to want to see it in my car, maybe punch some buttons and get my latest statistics as far as “has he had any violations since the last time he had it serviced and we were sent his data?” but that didn’t happen...I also had the original installation paperwork and the original court order in my jacket pocket just in case, since I had to show both when I reinstated my license, even though they scanned them at the time -- when I first reinstated my license they forgot the restriction so I had to go back and have them put it on). I’m also wondering whether the three-hour wait was intentional, since most people are there for renewals or new licenses or to change their address or register a vehicle, and those of us in the “C” group broke the law, which was why we were there. Kind of makes me feel like they were testing our patience to see if we gave them attitude about seeing SO MANY people who got there after us called first. But I was as nice to the DMV lady as I would have been had I waited 10 minutes, and by the end the lady next to her behind the counter was complimenting my Genie tie (Genie from Aladdin -- I went there straight from work this morning so I was still dressed up from work).

An interesting aside...I shave my head, but have a beard. I asked the lady, pointing to the gray under my chin, “At what point to I change my official hair color to gray?” (the color listed on the original police report). She said it was basically up to me, and that I could even put “bald” if I wanted to since I shave my head, but sometimes the hair grows out a bit between shavings and I want to make sure I’m in compliance. But I pointed to my eyebrows as evidence of the “brown” that I put down, and she accepted that. She said switching to “gray” is pretty much up to me as long as SOME of the original color remains, but then we shared a laugh about people with completely gray hair who put down “black” as their hair color (that was when I pointed out my non-graying eyebrows as evidence that while I do have some gray in there, it still is mostly brown).

She also laughed when I said the only “stat” that had changed in the past 13 months since reinstating my license was my weight, which I upped by 15 pounds for honesty’s sake. She said she NEVER would have done that, but then I said that I used to be about 35 pounds more than I am now, so I’m pretty good with where I’m at and would rather be accurate on a REAL ID-compliant license -- even though weight fluctuates, the weight I put is my average these days.

And after I got a little worried about phone battery after playing cell phone games for an hour, I then spent the next two hours *almost* finishing Rolly Crump’s book “It’s Kind of a Cute Story,” which I hadn’t picked up in so long that the Kindle app had updated and completely forgotten where I had left off (I only realized that I read two chapters that I had already read when I came upon a section that I had highlighted). I’m about halfway through the last chapter now. The Kindle app takes a LOT less battery than playing a game that has to communicate with the internet (especially since the DMV’s WiFi was worse than Disneyland’s as far as reliability, which is kind of saying a lot).

But anyway, other than the (only slightly) higher insurance bill for the next two years, all of this kerfuffle will be behind me tomorrow. No more breathing into my car before I can start it. No more worrying that “I bartended this morning, and I spilled some on my pants...will the interlock pick that up and fail me? (it happened a couple times, as did using an alcohol-based window de-icer this winter and then having the fumes from the can in the car when I tried to start it; I learned to leave the can outside the car after using it, but there are “rolling tests” where they are trying to see if you drank after starting the car and have six minutes to provide a passing same of breath and so I would have to pull over, remove the can, and then re-take the test to make sure I didn’t get COMPLETELY locked out -- I did have violations based on this, but found out a week ago when I emailed the DMV that it takes four consecutive months of such violations for the terms of the interlock to be extended, even if I had to air out my car before I could successfully start my car at the time).

After those violations, I was worried my time was going to be extended, so I was SO happy to receive a reply from the DMV last week telling me that they had looked at my records, and I was good to get the restriction removed. I had thought ANY violation would result in “more time with this thing in my car.”

And on the WAY to the DMV...I ran into a problem I’ve run into a couple times in the past couple months.

Ever since getting the interlock serviced in December, I’ve had issues with it rebooting itself.

Now, if you turn off the car with a pending test, that’s another violation. And the thing would tell me to breathe into it (it’s actually more throat-humming with this device -- it prevents someone taking a lungful of fresh air and then breathing in to beat it; humming in your throat means air from INSIDE of you is going through and it can detect alcohol you maybe thought you could hide).

So there have been times I’ve driven to work, parked, and just before turning off my car the interlock would ask for a “rolling test.” I couldn’t just turn my car off. That would be a violation, which the DMV would hear about. But if I picked the device up and it went blank as I blew into it, then said “Initializing,” I learned NOT to turn the car off (the hard way, when I got a violation for it). Just sit there in the parking spot, engine running, and wait for it to ask for a test again.

On my way to the DMV today, though, the device wanted a “rolling test.” Which I expected. The first “rolling test” can be 5-10 minutes after starting the car, and subsequent tests come every 45 minutes to an hour (and you have six minutes to provide a breath sample before you are locked out). When I drove to Disneyland in September, I can’t even guess as to how many tests I had to take as I drove, to make sure I was still sober.

But today, it asked me to re-test. I did. I heard the tell-tale “click” by my left knee that tells me it just sent a signal to the car that it’s okay to restart if I shut it down. But instead of “PASS” on the screen, the screen was blank. Then it said “initializing.” Then it asked me to test again with a beep. I did so. This time, it not only made the click on my ignition switch to turn it on, but said “PASS” -- fir about a half-second before going back to “INITIALIZING.”

When it came back up, I only had two minutes and 30 seconds left to provide a sample. I thought, “If this thing keeps resetting itself, I’m going to get a violation on the way to the DMV for permission to remove this.”

Fortunately, on the third try, the test was passed WITHOUT the device restarting itself (I am SO glad to get rid of this thing because it’s been doing this a lot for the past two months and while I’m passing the tests, it doesn’t always KNOW that I pass the tests before rebooting itself).

But at 10:00am tomorrow, I get this thing OUT of my car. If it’s anything like the installation, I’ll be there for about an hour. Which will still beat my wait time at the DMV today. I’ll probably finish Rolly Crump’s book and then either play some video games on my phone or start something new to read, like the continuations of the book which I’ve already bought.

But video games are more likely -- this shop, as I’ve seen personally and heard from other customers, does not only good work, but QUICK work, so I don’t want to get too into reading and then be disappointed when they have it done.

#Kenny the criminal #don't drink and drive kids #trust me it is NOT worth assuming you're good to go a few blocks to get a burger #it's expensive as heck and takes a LONG time to meet all your legal obligations #and that's if you DON'T hurt anyone or cause any damage #I can only imagine how much worse this would have been had I hit someone or something #I'm SO grateful that I didn't #and SO ashamed that I put people in the community in danger #definitely won't be making that mistake again #if you aren't fine CALL A CAB #don't risk it #this has been a PSA that may catch some of you off-guard if you weren't following me when it happened #(and if knowing that I was stupid enough to have gotten behind the wheel in that condition alters your opinion of me I 100% understand)

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lady-divine-writes · 5 years

Text

Klaine fic - “Need for Speed: New York - Chapter 1” (Rated NC17)

Summary:

It's been years since high school graduation, and Kurt and Blaine are living the lives of their dreams in New York City alongside their best friends, Nick and Jeff. Car racing behind them, they're working towards the future - Kurt and Jeff at NYADA, Blaine and Nick at NYU. But soon after moving from their tiny apartments to a bigger loft, bits and pieces of Ohio start to weed their way in to their lives - along with some New York grown angst, causing rifts that hopping behind the wheel of a Mustang might not be able to solve.

Read on AO3.

“One grande nonfat mocha …”

“That’s me!” Kurt called, reaching over the heads in front of him and grabbing his coffee.

“… and a tall black, one cream one sugar, with a blueberry muffin.”

“That one’s mine.” Nick wrenched his arm through the crowd to snag his cup from the barista, along with the small brown paper bag that had his muffin nestled inside. "Ugh! I wish we could find a bigger place!" he complained. His remark received glares from a handful of people who had no investment in what he was saying, but felt offended by his tone of voice. He followed Kurt to an empty table in the corner by the window where they could watch the rain pound the pavement, cleaning away the grime from the glass.

“Unfortunately, most of the coffee shops on this side of town are about this size,” Kurt commented, setting his cup down and grabbing an extra chair from a nearby table. “I know it’s crowded, but I think we’re out of luck.”

“I’m not talking about the coffee shop, Kurt!” Nick groaned, putting down his suitcase and landing heavily in his seat. “I’m talking about our apartment! It’s tiny! If we had a bigger place, then Jeff could dance at home. We need more space to move around."

"More room to move?" Kurt opened the lid to his coffee and took a deep breath in, sighing in contentment at the sweet scent of chocolate mixed with the strong jolt of Arabica he needed to fuel his day. "So what you’re saying is you guys ran out of places to have sex, right?"

Nick threw Kurt a pointed look, glancing nervously around to see if anyone took notice.

"No. I mean we're spending all of our spare time at the dance studio at NYADA. It would be nice to live somewhere with enough floor space where Jeff could practice at home so we’re not riding the subway back and forth at one in the morning.”

“An apartment with that much space would cost a small fortune. Trust me. The idea has crossed my mind many, MANY times.”

“Really?” Nick opened the crinkled top to his brown paper bag, shoved his nose inside, and took a sniff that caved the sides in.

“Yeah. Your place is tiny and you have a corner unit. We don’t. Ours is microscopic compared to yours.” Kurt opened a browser on his phone and pulled up the classifieds. Space wasn’t the only issue for Kurt. After last summer’s temperatures hit triple digits and stayed there, Kurt had declared himself done with their apartment. But when several exhaustive searches turned up nothing they could afford, he’d come to the conclusion that finding a new place within their budgets close enough to school to make the commute worthwhile might be a pipe dream.

“I have to admit that it's nice though, hanging out at NYADA after hours. It's quiet, it’s air conditioned in the summer, and George the janitor has been helping me with my homework."

Kurt snapped his head up. "Your law homework?"

"Yeah. He majored in criminal law. At one time, he was one of the foremost attorneys in the country! Six figure salary! But he gave it up to be a janitor.”

Kurt raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Nick shook his head. “I Googled him. He’s legit.”

“But why in the world would he do that? Give up a career and all that money to plunge toilets and mop floors?””

“Because he wasn’t happy. He didn’t want a career in law. His dad wanted him to. He wanted to work in theater, but he said he wasn’t any good. Had two left feet and couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket – his words. Working at NYADA was the compromise. He says it's like going to the Met every day for free, so the decision was easy."

Kurt laughed and went back to the ads. “Only in New York.”

“I guess.” Nick stared out the window, focused on the people running back and forth trying to avoid the rain. There were a handful of commuters in dark coats and rain boots speed walking from bus stop to bus stop to subway terminal. But mixed among them were the tourists meandering slowly on their way to wherever, huge smiles on their faces as if getting caught in a New York rainstorm was exactly what they had hoped for. He spotted one couple coming off a bus hand-in-hand, beaming at one another, obviously in love.

Probably honeymooners, he thought, adverting his eyes when they stopped at the curb and started to kiss.

New York was for lovers. It was written everywhere. It was one of the reasons why he fell in love with the city the moment he got there. He and Jeff were so much in love, it hurt. This was definitely where they were meant to be.

Or so he thought …

“Hey. Hey, Nick.” Kurt’s concerned voice and the touch of his hand pulled Nick’s eyes from the window. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been in such a funk lately.”

“I … I don't know.” Nick looked down into his cooling cup of coffee, avoiding Kurt’s eyes. His fears and doubts were stupid. He knew they were. But if he saw Kurt looking at him with worry, he’d unload everything. And there were things going on in his head he wasn’t prepared to admit to right now.

Though, if reassurance was something he felt he needed (and it was) there was no better source for that than Kurt, if for no other reason than he and Jeff went to school together.

If there was something Nick didn’t know, Kurt would.

“I just think maybe Jeff's getting a little tired of having me hang around all the time, you know? At school?”

Kurt’s worried eyes widened with confusion.

“I mean,” Nick tried to clarify, “that’s kind of his world, and maybe I shouldn’t interfere?”

Kurt’s eyes became wider until they took up a good portion of his face, and Nick backpedaled.

“I don’t know. Forget that. What I mean is, it would be nice to just ... stay in."

"Why in the world do you think Jeff's getting tired of you!?” Kurt barked, attracting the attention from diners at nearby tables that Nick was trying so hard to avoid. “From what we hear through the walls, you guys don't ever get tired!"

Nick’s cheeks turned the color of a brand spanking new fire truck, polish and all. “Kurt!”

"And," Kurt continued, "do you know how embarrassing it is to walk to school every day with Jeff and his incredible hard-on!? Seriously, Nick! It's like every morning!"

“Kurt!!”

“I’m not kidding! At this rate, you’re going to have to buy that thing its own MetroCard!”

"Alright, alright! I get the picture! But, you know, if we’re talking about erections, going to school with your boyfriend isn't much better!" Nick argued, leaning across the table and whisper-scolding through clenched teeth, praying he could stop the current discussion before they gathered an actual crowd. “If you guys aren’t going to stop with the early morning shower bjs, then you may want to consider asking Blaine to change the cut of his jeans … or start wearing slacks. WITH underwear!”

That worked.

"Touche.” Kurt returned to the listings on his phone, scrolling past ads he’d read so many times, he had them memorized. There wasn’t going to be anything new, he told himself. Not since last week. Blaine had offered to up his contribution on his portion of the housing costs so they could widen their search parameters, but Kurt refused. He didn’t want Blaine carrying the financial weight, regardless of how large his trust fund was, or how much profit he made off selling his house. Besides, Kurt had to be realistic. Considering what the job market was like in the arts, it would be nice to have a hefty nest egg to rely on.

Kurt bit his lip at his own line of thinking - talking about their finances as if they were an old married couple.

As if that nest egg was theirs and not just Blaine’s.

Kurt tried not to think of it as theirs, but it got hard when Blaine constantly referred to it like that.

Their savings.

Their money.

Put aside for their life. Their future.

Kurt was a hopeless romantic. Had been all his life. He loved Blaine heart and soul, saw them spending the rest of their lives together. But he wasn’t naïve. Unfortunately, things do happen. He didn’t think they would happen to them. They were such a clear-headed and balanced couple. But they could. So Kurt started a nest egg of his own, and contributed to their savings as much as he could. He still flipped cars from time to time. He’d made quite a name for himself in Ohio, so when he went back to visit, he had a list of people willing to wait months for him to get their ride up on a lift and give it an overhaul. Plus, he had customers who were loyal to him, who drove up to New York just for an hour of his time. On a good weekend, he could come home from a trip to see his dad with a cool ten grand in his pocket.

Not too shabby for a side gig … a legal one.

He’d almost convinced himself to open up a shop in New York, but even with the high demand, the price of rent and the time commitment didn’t outweigh the potential profits.

Besides, he didn’t want to be known as an auto tuner.

He wanted to be a Broadway star.

But he didn’t hang up his coveralls completely. It was good to have something to fall back on. And with high performance race cars always in demand, he could have a steady source of income. Though, for the price of some of these shoebox apartments, it might be cheaper, and more lucrative, to open up a shop and live above it because damn! How the hell did college kids move to New York and survive without humongous trust funds?

He had no idea. Television definitely didn’t prepare him for this.

He was about to exit out of the browser and pull up the Variety! website when he stumbled on an ad tucked at the bitter end that looked interesting. The picture had originally turned him off. He thought it was another bodega for rent. But after a third read, he felt the slow burn of excitement flutter like butterflies all over his entire body.

"Nick, when are you due back at the office?"

"In about …" Nick looked at his own phone clock and sighed the sigh of a man about to surrender himself to a long afternoon of dull research, even duller coffee runs, and chalking it up to experience “… thirty minutes. Then I’m off at four. Why?”

Kurt shared the listing to Nick’s phone, then clicked the hyperlink to dial the realtor’s number.

"What are your feelings about Bushwick?"

“I don’t think I have any.” Nick opened the listing Kurt sent him and read through it. His eyes went wide, a smile spreading his lips despite the promise of a painstaking afternoon. “But I’m beginning to have some.”

***

“Bushwick? What the hell’s in Bushwick?” Blaine laughed, undoing the buttons on Kurt’s jacket and snaking his hand inside. He needed this closeness, needed to feel his boyfriend after a long day without him.

He was also freezing his ass off and hoping he could leech some of Kurt’s never-ending warmth so he could feel his fingers again.

Kurt shifted in his seat, moving closer and putting a hand over Blaine’s to help keep him toasty. He wasn’t a big fan of P.D.A. on the subway, but it was so crowded at this hour, no one was paying any attention.

“A big ass loft, that’s what,” Kurt said, thrusting his phone into Blaine’s view. “Big enough for you, me, our friends, our stuff, your ego …”

“Nonsense. Nothing’s that big.” Blaine took the phone, the screen loaded to a slideshow of pictures showing every inch of the loft in question, plus a floor plan and a list of amenities. Kurt and Nick had taken the liberty of submitting a pre-qualification application, and with help from Nick’s legal and financial expertise, they’d been provisionally approved. All they needed was to tour the place with their boyfriends and get the final okay from the realtor.

But as far as Kurt and Nick were concerned, they were in love.

“That definitely looks big enough for all our stuff. Hell, I could probably park my Mustang in there and we’d never bump into it! But why do we need to move to a new place?” Blaine had no objections to moving. He agreed they needed more space, and yesterday. But he enjoyed giving his excited boyfriend a hard time.

It was like foreplay to him.

“Well, aside from the things I’ve already mentioned - more space, less per month in rent, our own washer and dryer, living with our best friends in the world - I have two words for you: air conditioning.”

“What? You don’t like sleeping in the kitchen on hot summer nights with every window in the place open?”

“No.”

“Not gonna miss that one little bit?”

“Not a bit.”

“Too bad, because that is literally my favorite thing about living in the apartment we have now.”

“And yet, I still manage to love you.”

“Go figure. Have Nick and Jeff seen it yet?”

“They’re supposed to meet us.” Kurt scrolled through the text conversation he’d been having with Nick since Nick left his internship to pick up his boyfriend. “The last I heard from him is that he and Jeff had met up and they were heading out.”

“Give or take five minutes in the coat closet for a little hanky panky,” Blaine joked. “Or should I say an hour? If they find a place with a lock on the door, we might not seem them till midnight!”

Kurt wanted to rebut in defense of his friends, but Blaine was probably right. If there was a couple in this city that had more sex than Kurt and Blaine, it was Nick and Jeff.

Kurt knew because he heard most of it first-hand.

***

“I thought you guys said this was a loft?” Jeff wandered through the kitchen, opening cabinet doors and peeking inside, looking for what, no one knew. “When does a loft have bedrooms?”

“According to the website, it’s a conversion,” Kurt replied.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning they had to knock down the wall between a loft and a two bedroom apartment, and since it was too complicated to replace, they just left it. Something about the plumbing. They gutted the extra kitchen, renovated the bathroom and …”

“And created this enormous airplane hangar of an apartment,” Blaine finished.

“A-ha. And it’s two hundred dollars less a month than both our old apartments combined,” Nick said.

“That’s because we’ll be living in Brooklyn instead of Manhattan,” Jeff pointed out.

“But our rent is coming up in a week,” Blaine mentioned, circling the place for a second time. At this rate, they won’t need gym memberships. Then could just jog around their apartment. “I don’t want us all paying double. If we say yes to this place, when would we be able to move in?”

“Like, now,” Nick said. “We’ve been talking to the realtor all afternoon. She has the keys and she’s bringing them down.”

“I thought you guys said our approval was provisional,” Jeff said.

“It took us close to five days to get the keys to our last place. Why are they so eager to rent this place?” Blaine asked.

“Technically, this is a historic building. The owners are filing to make it official, but in the meantime, there’s a developer trying to buy it out and turn it into an IHOP or something. They need to have all the apartments filled by the end of the month to make their case that it’s still viable as a living space while they wait on certification. They’ve apparently had tons of nibbles, but no follow throughs.”

“And they’re desperate. They’re trying to fight off gentrification.”

“And they’re going to do that by renting the biggest space I’ve ever seen at a steal to four white gay guys?” Jeff asked.

“Hey, I don’t make the rules,” Kurt said, throwing open the drapes to let the afternoon sunlight in. “I’m just willing to benefit from them … uh … just this once, of course.”

“Look at all the room you’ll have to dance now, Jeff.”

“Yeah,” Jeff said, taking a few experimental steps, running the soles of his shoes against the floor one at a time to check the grip of the wood grain. “It’s great, but is this really what you want, Nicky?”

“Yes. I mean, you’ll be able to practice at home now. No more late night trips back and forth from NYADA.”

“Oh, I don’t know …” Jeff wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and squeezed, lifting him an inch till their noses touched “... I was starting to enjoy those late night trips. All that alone time together, late nights on the train, catching dinner on the corner … it was kind of romantic.”

“But if you practice at home and we don’t have to spend time on the train, we’ll have more time to do other things late at night.”

Jeff frowned, his brow pinched together as he tried to decipher the meaning behind his boyfriend’s cryptic words.

“Other romantic things?”

Jeff’s brow pinched further, and Nick raised his eyebrows in an attempt to help him. They stood like that, staring at one another, deadlocked and waiting for Jeff to figure it out, until Kurt lost his patience.

“Sex! He means sex, Jeff! If you don’t have to travel to NYADA every night, you get to have more sex! Though how that’s possible, I have absolutely no damn idea!”

Across the room, Blaine laughed so hard, he stopped breathing.

“Oh!” Jeff smiled like the bear that stole the honey and got away without getting stung. “Okay. I’m sold.”

“Great!” Kurt grabbed his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. “Oh, that’s the realtor. She’s on her way up. This is so exciting! I can’t wait to start packing up our stuff and moving it in!”

“Hey, would you guys mind if Nicky and I stayed the night?” Jeff asked. “So we can celebrate early?”

“Celebrate?” Kurt shot Blaine a look, but it was no use, as the man had his head in his hands, laughing up a storm. “But there’s no electricity! And you guys won’t have a bed!”

“Kurt - that is the weirdest thing you have ever said to us.”

“Whatever.” Kurt pushed open the sliding door. “Just do us a favor and don’t baptize our room before we get the chance.”

Jeff clapped a hand over his boyfriend’s ass, causing him to yelp. Jeff smirked. “We’ll do our best.”

#klaine #klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #frankie writes

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hitchell-mope · 5 years

Text

Just put on the movie

And there we go. The dedication is there.

Oh god the rapping.

My palms will be bloody by the time this is over.

But I like the parallels to the first movie

To much auto tune

There goes my heart Disney.

Oh lord that’s high

Bbys. Smee twins

WHY WASNT DIZZY THERE FROM FILM TWO

There’s my child Celia

MY BOY!!!!

I mean Mal has a point.

He thinks it through

I love him so fucking much

Loving Doug’s hair

Rat bastard. Rat bitch. Rat fairy (Adam belle Verna)

Fuck off leah chad Audrey

😍😍😍😍. This version is better then d1

SUCK IT PASTEL COW

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

Oh Evie love. Just tell him you love him

FUCK OFF YOU GERIATRIC BITCH

YES WE WOULD PREFER MAL TO YOU YA BITCH

I hate you Adam and belle

Ben and the other three are adorable family

Still hating Audrey. So. Fucking. Much

Love the purple limo

WHY IS TREMAINE NICE. IT MAKES NO SENSE

Bal parent vibes are strong

They shoulda painted the limo roof purple

Dying of cuteness

Proud fiancé Mal. Love it

Fuck off leah

Here’s papa hades. And the ham.

DRAGON MAL. WHOO HOO

Ah well. Nice while it lasted

NOT HER JOB PASTEL COW

So. Much. Ham.

Poor girl. Ouch.

🤮🤮🤮🤮. I still hate her and her geriatric bitch of a grandmother

Oh bitch please. First words out of your mouth were creel. And it ain’t abated

I’m supposed to be sorry for this sad act? I don’t think so

So. Much. Rapping

Oh. SPARE ME WOMAN

Still theft. Throw her on the isle with her grandmother

Lonely and friendless. Because Mal is so much better then you ya limp noodle

Gotta be bad on the back

YOU DESERVE A SLAP AROUND THE FACE YOU SPOILED BRAT

Seriously though. The actual singing is better then the rapping. So gotta give satah her dues

Fuck off grown ups.

YOU PUT THEN THERE IN THE FIRST FUCKING PLACD

Blue bitch. Just like always belle

Ok. People. You can see it’s hurting bal to do this. KILL THE BEAST

DONT CRY BABY BOY. PLEASE. LAST TIME ALMOST KILLED ME

Murder. The fucking. Parents

Evie. Evie’s sensible. Listen to your sister Mal.

And here comes the guilt. Like always. The narrative blames Mal

That darn cake

Ah. Pain. Hug them now

And jump scare

Oh god. Shut up Audrey. You’re a sore loser

Eh. The prosthesis look ok

Audrey. Nutter. Ben was more then ready to start the honeymoon when Mal was a dragon. Do you really think a hag would stop him?

😂😂😂😂

Oh boy

That’s a lie and you know it bluey.

At least the bikes have an explanation

Why the red for Evie though

And the mutt speaks

Fuck off Chad. I hate you so much

This bitch again

So shrieky.

Kiss ass

Real original

Jump Jane jump!

So many neck cricks

No one tells him anything

Cella’s right Mal

Overly long gag. But cute

Awww 🥰🥰🥰🥰. At least he’s a good dad

Nice reference

And the fear mongering begins.

And here’s the cryptid. He shoulda died in it’s going down

Psycho bitch pirate whore

Cella’s a troll and I love it

The vehicle needs an oil change

At least he’s sleeping. Though that position can not be comfortable

At long last the reveal.

He’s funny. And hot. (I can see where @mochacake2016 is coming from)

We know! We know

And here’s the music

😂😂😂😂.

He’s got a point

Ok.

THERES NO PHONES ON THE ISLAND QUEEN MAL

She actually sounds like jade west here

So far. Besides the proposal. This is my favourite song. Mostly for Hades great looks. Great voice

And the tambourine

Would be better with purple and blue fire effects. But no. We can’t have nice things. They spent the budget on pirate whores make up

She’s got a point. They both do

LISTEN TO HIM

Proud papa

C’mon girl. Cry

Of course she told her sister

He’s a good king.

T-shirt should be ripped.

🤮🤮🤮🤮. Hate her so much

And. Here. We. Go.

Benny. I love you. But did you not hear what she said to Evie when you first met the vks. Of course not. You were lost in Mal’s eyes.

Oh god. PLEASE SOMEBODY GO AND MELT HER

Whore man is probably skunk drunk. Gil’s cute as ever though

Throw hook in the water. And keep it there.

🎶she’s back🎶

And there screwed

He makes feel physically sick

Uma. I love ya. But honestly. Mal owes no one anything. It’s not her job.

No it ain’t

Jay’s got a point

Oh honey

Hook. In the words of the irreverent Captain Jack Sparrow “if the bikes be crashed properly. You be crashed along with it”. Not you Gil. I like you

Mother hen strikes again. Uma ain’t buying what she’s selling

Pure child Celia. (I don’t use this very much but) Gil’s babey (it feels wrong to type£

Chicken arms. No brains. No wit. No dance skills. No rapping skills. Ya basically a walking corpse hook

The dogs giving me a nervous twitch.

I hate the pair of them so no. No sympathy for prince douche bag

Gil makes me cry so simply

Stab the pirate jay. Please. For all of us

Psycho bitch

I want. It. Dead. Brutally. Dead

And more music. If this weren’t Disney they coulda melted them yo pukes of goo and pour it down Harry’s throat.

Oh god

So she can’t count either. Just like her brother

Definitely cha cha slide.

Deep sigh

So much ham.

Here’s a funny idea. How about instead of a bloody pantomime. ACTUALLY FUCKING FIGHT YOU FECKERS

Synchronised armour dancing. That’s new

Oh for fuck sake

Ha ha. Save it for the sob story bitch

What’s next a kick line

Thank god I was wrong.

Hook should be suffocated under the armour right now. Put us out of our misery

Care bear alert

I had to have a flu jab today. And it weren’t as painful as every single nanosecond hooks on screen

Love the platonic affection (I hate the very concept of malvie. What did you expect?)

Mother alert

Don’t eat wild fruit honey

So cute. But so dumb

Oh. Phineas and Ferb reference

Awww babies.

Don’t you dare tell me Mal doesn’t care.

THEY FOUND DOUG

Uma’s so done with care bear bs

More singing. Yay(!)

Please. Remind me again exactly why this is a DCOM. Cause it honestly does not feel like it what with the backstory pirate whores entire existence and the choreography

How has evie not broken a leg in this number.

Believe me Mal and Uma. I feel your frustration they go together like peanut butter and chocolate spread. (Perfectly if you didn’t know)

Where is she going?

She knows how R&J ended right? Double suicide. Why the romanticism huh?

HE IS NOT A RAG DOLL! Though props to Zachary for not corpsing

How can you hate Doug. He’s adorable. Best straight couple ever

There’s ma boy. Rip Harry’s throyatvout plwae.

Ben’s always been hot. But this is definitely working for me.

Awww. Carlos helping his papa

Wet Ben. Yum

Awww. Janelos cuteness.

Love the beard. So good. 🤤🤤🤤🤤

Someone murder the man whore before I do.

He makes me wanna throw up. And I’m not physically capable of doing that

@rpsocsandcanonohmy. I get where you’re coming from. But I also get where Ben is coming from. Sunbeam did get him abducted. And man slut tried to feed him to sharks. So I do understand both points. Doesn’t mean you’re wrong though

JUST. EXPLAIN. HIS MIND IS BEAST ADDLED

Shoulda let Ben slash hooks throat jay. You’re slipping buddy

Mal’s eating crow

Hopefully he chad suffocates. Then she’s have done one thing that wasn’t completely worthlessly reprehensible

🎶feelings🎶

And it had to ruin it

Te-am work. As plankton says

Proud sister

Boys are back. (With dude and the mutt in tow)

YAAAAAAAAAY

I hate happy harry. But I do like happy Uma. Eh. Double edged sword

BAL THIRST. FINALLY

Shoulda gone with Janelos. Jarlos is from big time rush

Oh they’re so cute

Poor Doug.

DOUG AND GIL FRIENDSHIP.

So. Update. Might be like Mal. (Definitely loving Ben’s facial hair)

Yawning over chad. So pathetic

Her seat from him douchey mcuseless

Poor Janey

Cats outta the bag

Once again. I kinda understand all points. Yeah Mal shouldn’t have lied. But Uma didn’t really give her and choice. And Evie just kinda assumed. And no one really lets her explain anything.

Hooks still pathetic. Even hurt emotionally I still wanna punch his roger rabbit looking face (Sorry Roger)

Oh dear

Mal. Don’t apologise. You did what you felt you needed to do. And no gives you a chance to explain. Ever.

Yes. You needed to do what you could.

Excellent acting all around as usual

Evie. Look. I love you. Your favourite number seven. But WHY IS IT YOUR SISTERS JOB. WHY DOES EVERYONE MAKE IT MALS PROBLEM

Ha! Evie said it. She said family.

Oh fuck. Taken for granite

More singing.

Monster/story/invincible

I do want to stab Harry in the mouth with the hook

More flashback. Yay(.). Couldn’t they fill out the runtime

Flashbacks. TO THE START OF THE SO G THE FLASHBACK IS FROM. OH FOR FUCK SAKES

More dragon.

Audrey’s performance might make me a vegetarian

How is it not crushed by the claws?

Fire should be green

Yay. Auds dead. Please say yes?

The twins say literally one thing

From magical incantation to vaguely irritating verbal tick. Well alright then

Evie. Why do you sound so sad. It’s a good thing Audrey’s dying. The ultimate price and all that. You should be glad. It’s a good thing

Mal: he’s my father. Ben: shocked face. Me: makes a sound like a boiling kettle

Bye bye facial hair

Die slut

More eating crow

The in laws meet

Exactly hades. Exactly. Knee beast in the dick

God Ben’s so hot.

Bite Adam’s throat out please hades

Should’ve let Audrey waste away. And sent granny to Tartarus to meet her

OH SPARE ME YOUR BLEEDING HEART ROUTINE! I still hate you in a fundamental level

OH FINALLY YOU GERIATRIC BITCH

Nice little family moment

What the fuck is Evie’s dress?

Queen Mal has a very nice ring to it.

Sure you can. You owe them noting. You owe nobody anything

Jay has a pull back braid in his hair. Yay!

“Audrey would be gone”. You say it as though that’s a bad thing

“Insert woody woodpecker laugh”. Fuck you Adam

Compromise. Bring the vks over. And plop Adam Audrey chad anleah on the isle. Sink it into the ocean

Why didn’t Verna bring the barrier down. Oh yeah. Cause then she’d be useful

More singing

At least this takes place in daylight

I still hate harry

Push Harry in the drink please. IM LITERALLY BEGGING YOU

God I love Ben and Doug

Why the Charleston?

I still hate tremaine

Well. Jane. In ZM. You met Mal. She’s Carlos’s mother in this au

Giljay. It’s cute

So Harry makes me ill right upbto the end. Now he’s related to purple and blue

🎶a bitch is in the dog house🎶. And deservedly so

🤮🤮🤮🤮

Sweet little king

Oh boy

Whore has a turkey neck

This is the end. Good movie. With some unneeded bits. I’m gonna change a lot in ZM part three. And both dedications broke me.

#disney descendants #descendants 3 #anti harry x chad #anti harry x doug #anti harry x jane #harry x jay #anti harlos #anti malvie #anti haudrey #anti benrry #anti harry hook #anti audrey daughter of sleeping beauty #anti chad charming

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keire-ke · 5 years

Text

What does Steve want?

tl;dr going back in time fulfills neither Steve’s narrative wants nor needs, because the former are too broad and the latter are negated by foreknowledge.

Aside from other reasons for disliking how Endgame ended, I find Steve's arc narratively unsatisfying, and it comes down to one simple thing: because what Steve wants to do and what he believes is right were always consistently the same thing, I never had the sense Steve wants anything except doing the right thing, and as such the absolute selfishness of leaving everyone to deal with the present and going back in time to get a life comes out of nowhere.

This is not necessarily the wrong narrative choice, but it also isn't one that feels like an ending of an arc that set a character up to face the difficult choice between the right thing and the consequences of the right thing (and never delivered).

Contrast with the beautifully clear and coherent arc for Iron Man: Tony wants to go home to a family and Tony wants to save everyone. We know this about him from very early on, and his story is consistently about navigating between those two wants, so when the choice comes to sacrifice going home versus saving everyone, we feel the gravitas of the moment. This is the culmination of his two warring wants, finally coming to fruition.

What does Steve want? What does Steve sacrifice on the altar of doing the right thing, what has he given up in his quest to fight for the world that he needs to reclaim to grow and be happy?

I honestly don't know.

He loses certain opportunities as a result of his choices, sure (e.g. being with Peggy), but losing things, especially opportunities, that you might have wanted is not the same as consciously sacrificing something, even opportunity, especially when those things are lost to snap decisions. There is no point at which the right thing is in question, versus the desire for something, in no small part because the right thing is always stopping the imminent danger, and not stopping it would likely also take out the thing Steve wants in that moment: in fact it is no choice at all.

Not putting the Valkyrie in the water was not an option because auto-guided missiles were threatening millions right that minute, not stopping Hydra was not an option, because if the war was lost there was nothing left to want, not fighting Bucky meant letting SHIELDra probably have him back and killing millions. Civil War comes closest to presenting an actual dilemma, but there was never a choice between things Steve wants and things Steve thinks are right: not letting Bucky be killed was the right thing to do and also something he wanted, not signing the Accords proved to be the right thing and also what he wanted. Argument can be made about the conflict with Tony, but jury's out on whether their friendship was sufficiently established in the MCU, at least from Steve's end. Steve never seems to have to choose between losing something he wants by doing what's right, or getting it by not doing it: what's right and what he wants are always intertwined.

It ties in with another facet of Steve to contend with, and that is his inability to not make everything his problem. That is a huge factor of how something drastic needed to happen before he stepped down and got a life, it is, in fact, the clearest example of what Steve needs versus what Steve wants. Steve can't seem to walk away from a fight: for all of his life he was doing the right thing because it was the right thing, which mostly meant fighting. This is not sustainable, and Steve needed to stop to some degree, but stop what, that's the question. Stop fighting all the time, certainly. Learn to enjoy victory, build something instead of throwing everything you have at a brick wall all the time. Learn to accept that there are things you cannot change, that you shouldn't change, because other people's freedom fucking sucks. In that light going to the past may be just what he needs, finally giving up control, giving up the illusion that if he just tries hard enough he will save everyone, because all of it already happened. On the surface that works.

However.

Learning a lesson like "you need to not fight sometimes" can't be "remove yourself from the world and all temptation". It is the narrative equivalent of an opium den. Retreat into a world where none of your choices matter, because all choices have already been made.

Leaving the world he saved would have worked, were he forced to sacrifice or lost that which made him fit in along the way, except that never happened. Time and again we are shown that Steve very much belongs in the XXI century, that he has a life there, friends, family. Even as early as the Winter Soldier Steve was shown to be very much at home in the 2010s. Occasionally it was lonely, sure, but so was Tony, so was Bruce, so was Natasha. Missing the people of his past is not the same thing as missing the past itself. Steve needed to make connections, and by the end of CAWS he did: he had Sam and Natasha, and the ball kept rolling. In fact by the end of Egg Steve has more people anchoring him in 2023 then he had in the 1940s.

The last thing is that we are at no point sold the idea that Steve truly wants anything concrete. He doesn't even particularly want to save the world, or at least doesn't view it as an attainable goal (with good reason – the world will always need saving, that is the price of freedom). Steve never seems to want stability, or a nuclear family, or security, or... seriously, what does Steve want from life at any given point? He says in CAWS he wants to do the right thing, but doesn't know what that is anymore, and that is resolved by the end. Steve never wanted to work for SHIELD for the sake of SHIELD, he just wanted to do his part and SHIELD appeared to enable that. That desire doesn't change. He doesn't give anything up, his wants and needs do not change, only the circumstances do, and even then they don't change enough for him to be forced to adjust his perspective.

Steve’s never been shown to be torn between “I want a normal, happy life” vs “I can’t stand by while evil is afoot”. If anything, his dilemmas tended towards “I can’t stand by while evil is afoot” vs “not standing by causes problems” (further weakened because he always ends up justified in choosing the former). Has this been resolved? Has Steve learned to pick his battles, to weigh cost and benefits of engaging depending on the situation? Has Steve learned to accept sacrifices in the great war against evil, or does he still consider sacrifices a personal failing that he needs to fix and or undo?

In the end we don't know, because we are not shown. Or told. All we know is that Steve existed consciously for another century, and either took the opportunity to re-do things that went wrong the first time (not great in terms of accepting and honouring the sacrifices of people who fought the first time, and also not a retirement), or sat back and not only let evil flourish, but watched his beloved wife take pride in building the place where he knew it flourished (…yikes).

…yeah, I'm gonna guess: no. Steve didn't learn.

There is one candidate for want: Egg tries to sell the idea that it’s Peggy, Peggy personally, which... okay, I buy that Peggy was the singular person with whom Steve ever dreamed of being, so being with Peggy, alright. That’s not nothing. That is a very clearly defined want.

(would help if we knew Peggy spent her whole life waiting for Steve to come back because he was the One Man who could make her happy. Nothing weakens that ending quite like the knowledge that the woman has been regressed into the desired prize)

But it’s also not much, considering Steve is never shown to want the things that going back to be with a woman usually represents, like home and stability and “life”. AoU was a golden opportunity to have Steve wistfully look at children running around a farm and be like “ah, that’s the dream”, but he just looks bemused. So the "want" is just Peggy, the specific person, however here is the final kick: Peggy-the-person represented something when Steve knew her in the 40s: she was the kindred spirit that believed in the same things and validated his wants, because those were the same things she wanted. They both believed in doing the right thing no matter the cost, standing up to bullies, being true to yourself. The thing is, all of that is voided by the fact that Steve needs to go back to be with her: going to the past is not the morally right choice, it is a selfish one. By going back Steve negates the entirety of why he wanted Peggy in the first place, and what he gets is just the shadow of Peggy, really, the undefined shape of a beautiful woman at the end of the day. In the end the fulfilling of Steve's apparent want is like cotton candy. It is pretty, well-shaped, sweet, and exactly what you think you want, except once you get it is nothing but a spoonful of empty calories that melts in the sunshine.

The problem with Steve's arc is that for all the talk about always doing the unselfish thing Steve has never done anything he didn't want to do, and that matters, as context. Steve is never conflicted about fighting, Steve is never shown wanting things other than the things he chooses, because the narrative never puts Steve in a position where he needs to choose between what is good for someone, and what he feels is right. We never see him grapple with the consequences of choosing his rigid morality at the expense of other people, which on one hand is fine – this is not necessarily the right genre for the meditation on the nature of selfishness, but on the other that leaves him with little room to grow, so to have an arc it must be one of selfishness, which would be fine, if it didn't play out as a happy ending. It is a deeply unsatisfying thought, that always choosing the right thing is so taxing that to be happy you need to eschew it altogether.

In conclusion: what Steve needs to be happy is to gain the wisdom to know the difference between the things he can change and the things he cannot change, and the serenity to accept the latter. Going into the past gives him the opportunity for none of that, because as mentioned above, depending on interpretation, he will have to either accept all things, or claim the power to change all things.

#avengers: endgame #spoilers #this post is so meta it's practically para #steve we'll see rogers #ON VA VOIR MOTHERFUCKER #MCU: forever salty #Endgame WTF

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dennou-translations · 5 years

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Violet Evergarden Gaiden: Chapter 2

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The girl stared up at a red brick building that had a weathercock on its top.

While the girl stood by the roadside, people incessantly entered and exited that postal company of slightly old-fashioned exterior. A young man carrying a package. A young woman holding a letter to a beloved someone under her arm.

The windows seemed already open.

Within the site, a postman mounted his motorcycle while yawning. A bewitchingly beautiful woman came after him in trots. Clicking his tongue at her as she forcefully took over the passenger seat, the youth made a face that did not seem at all dissatisfied from an angle she could not see.

Lively laughter could be heard from the balcony of the third floor. So could the voice of a young woman that was angry for whatever reason. Eventually, a man made his way to the balcony with a teacup in hand. He spotted the girl, who was nothing but a part of the cityscape, and candidly wave at her despite it being their first meeting.

After that, a young woman of lustrous blond hair revealed herself.

It was a place noisier and more valuable than what she had imagined. For the girl, that place was a dreamy one.

Firmly grasping the white dress she was clad in, she stepped forward. And, at the same time, she recited a magic spell.

As I woke up, the first thing that entered my vision were slowly descending golden curtains.

“It is morning, Milady.”

Illuminated by the early sunlight from beyond the balloon-shade lace curtains, her hair looked like it was glowing, even in my dim line of sight. Its color was comparable to the Moon, the stars and rice ears. It changed depending on the moment one gazed at it. That person herself was an elusive beauty.

The morning started out like that.

Pulling my blanket away, I sat up and reached for the chest next to my bed. The object inside it, made of nothing more than two thin glass plaques, greatly increased my field of vision. Amongst the many goods sent to me by someone who I was not yet certain if I should call “father”, my glasses were my allies. And I had one more ally as well.

“Today, you are to have dance practice after the end of lectures. Time has come for you to step into the next stage. There is nearly nothing to correct in your way of walking. Please have confidence. Afterwards, let us practice transcribing spoken material.”

A handmaiden of blue orbs that were attractive to an odd extent. No – in reality, she was not one at all. The truth was that she was an Auto-Memories Doll dispatched for my sake. But I was not supposed to let others know about it. We had to deceive everyone in the academy.

I am Isabella York. Half a month had passed ever since we started having a routine together, but I had never seen the sleeping face of the Auto-Memories Doll that went to sleep later and woke up earlier than I did.

I had heard that the property of the academy I attended had once been a rose plantation belonging to an extinguished country, which had existed in the distant past. The school where four hundred types of roses were planted was enveloped in fragrances to the point of making one cough during the warm periods of blossoming.

The ground could be seen from the schoolhouse, hidden as it was in a mountain range, but people would never be able to catch a glimpse of the building from outside. The only ones allowed to live there inside of secluded rooms were young women and handmaidens that had permission to stay for a fixed period alone. What protected the ladies like a knight was a tall fence that blocked the air from the outer world. It surrounded and enclosed the school building. Those allowed to enter were solely relatives, future fiancés and teachers.

Amongst the teachers, there were no males. It was essentially a girls’ garden. A life completely packed within a box, in which we were not permitted to return home once we enrolled, except during long-term vacations.

The circumstances of the students varied, but they consisted of those meant to take a social position of high status or settled to marry someone with said position eventually. If I were to say it, I was probably the latter. I had a negotiation and made an agreement with my father to sell over the whole rest of my life. Being thrown into such a school had unmistakably been the result of him wanting me to be polished into a fine product.

“What color of ribbon will it be?”

Right now, she intended to turn my wine-red hair into tight and firm braids. Reflected in the dresser mirror, she and I wore the same uniform. It was a pure white cape over dark blue one-piece, white socks and red shoes. The ornaments specified by the academy were all items that made perceivable the excellence of their quality.

“Red...”

Her fingers, all the while covered by long white gloves, tied the ribbon for me.

Every now and then, a creaking mechanical noise would ensue. Since she and I were sleeping in the same room with our beds next to each other, I knew that the cause of said noise were her prosthetics. I quite liked the sound. I believed it to be a part of her robot-like self that had a hint of humanity. The meaning of those words was contradictory, but that was it.

Once both of the three-strand braids were done, I turned around and said, “You... always wear your hair like that, huh?”

Looking at my reflection in the mirror, she nodded pointedly.

That type of braiding did not seem like something I could possibly do. It did not dishevel no matter how much she moved around the whole day, so it was probably a well-thought hairdo. But the way it looked when loose was more charming. If I were to talk about her slovenliness before going to sleep...

I fleetingly glanced outside the room’s window. There were still only a few students heading from the dormitory to the school building. I then stood up from the chair that I had been sitting on and went around to behind her. While laughing at how wary she became of her back, I eased her with a, “there, there” and made her sit down. And so, I undid her perfect braiding.

“Hum, Milady. That would be troubling. You will not make it in time to the morning lessons.”

“It’s okay. You know, I used to be... a pro at braiding my little sister’s hair. I can do it quick. Your hair feels like velvet to the touch... Seems like it would sell for an expensive price,” vile thoughts made their way out of my mouth accidentally.

Letting me do as I pleased, she furrowed her brows. “You will sell it?”

“Huhu... I won’t.”

I earned a slightly pleasant feeling from her face, expressionless by default, clouding over.

“Everyone at my workplace tells me to ‘keep it long’.”

“That’s right. I also think so. See, while we were talking about that, I finished it.”

It was a very simple pair of braids. Wavy streaks dangled as traces of the hair that had been braided on the spots a little above her ears. Her adult-like impression had faded off quite a bit.

“How is it?”

“I have the feeling that it appears childish.”

“Is that so? I think it’s cute, though... Then, I’ll make these into buns... Look, it’s a sheep-horn hairstyle.”

“It does not go well with the uniform.”

“Indeed, this chaste-looking dress is too much for a cheerful head. What should I do?”

“Milady, you are playing with me, are you not?”

“So I got caught?”

“Please stop fooling around. Also, I have told you this numerous times, but please use proper obligatory language. All right?”

She was inexpressive and hard to read, but it seemed I had angered her. I would meekly say “yes” only at times like those, but other than when we were alone together, I did not intend to fix that. Because it would be suffocating.

In the end, we ran out of time, so she wound up accompanying me with her hair untied.

From what I heard later on, she apparently did not quite like to have her hair down. According to her, that was because it could hinder her field of vision if the wind blew and cause grave accidents when she was doing something.

Going by that logic, I felt that having a hair so lengthy was not a good thing in itself, but it matched her, so there was no helping it. The opinions of the people from her workplace added up to it as well. Even I wanted to tell her to keep it long.

Strangely enough, even though she was the kind of person that did not seem to need others, she made others feel like they should not leave her on her own. I was a little jealous of that.

“Milady, a daughter of the York household cannot be tardy by any means. Please hurry.”

Mixing with the students that rushed to the school building, we walked through a red brick path.

The school building was far from the dormitory. But that path was surrounded by trees and flowers and extremely lovely. Since I had been raised in a land of greenery, it made me want to stop and stare.

“We’ll get scolded by the nuns if we run.”

“Then, let us go at a fast pace.”

“Ahahah, what’s up with that?”

She pulled my hand and trotted. While looking at her, I was thinking.

——Just how many people in this world wouldn’t think of me as someone of no importance?

I pondered on that while racing up. Nobody but my little sister came to mind. However, she was only a three-year-old toddler.

She would call for me with a, “hey, hey” without ever having pronounced my name properly.

As I did not want to supply my musings with her, I said to the one in front of me, “Hey! How about we don’t go to class but to some other place?”

I wondered what she was doing now. Wondered if she was not hungry.

“To where?”

My adorable little sister. Her sweet voice was sometimes irritating, sometimes endearing.

“Doesn’t matter! Let’s go together... The weather is so good.”

She had marigold-colored, fluffy and curly angel-like hair. There was a softness to her puffy cheeks.

“I wanna go somewhere. It would be reassuring if I were with you.”

All of it was nostalgic.

“We cannot leave this academy, Milady.”

All of it was nostalgic.

“We cannot go anywhere.”

Those words froze my heart, and I ended up halting in my tracks.

She was merely stating the truth, so she was not at fault for anything. She was not at fault.

“You have to lie at times like these. Be nice.”

Yet I wound up accidentally speaking in a thorny way.

She soon uttered an, “I am terribly sorry” and deeply lowered her head. I felt displeased. That was wrong; it was not what I had been after.

It was not as if I wanted to make use of my position to stand above like that.

“Hm-hm, I was the one in the wrong just now. Sorry.”

I had just wanted her to treat me as a friend.

Once I drew her hand closer, I rested my head on her shoulder. Mutely, I was requesting her to pat my head. No, it might be that I was wishing for us to be something like lovers.

Perhaps she had already grown used to that, as she caressed me with her artificial arm even without me saying anything. The students passing by were looking at us. There would probably be rumors about us again. That the daughter of the York house and her handmaiden had an unusual relationship.

Whatever. As of now, I did not need any allies other than her.

“Miss York. Wouldn’t you have a meal with us sometime?”

In the academy, where one’s surname was their own name, I was well-known as “Miss York”.

It seemed that, when traced back, the York family came across the lineage of some royal household. If I was certain, it was Drossel or something.

In my first encounter with the person who had been assigned as my handmaiden role, she had explained to me that she had been introduced to Drossel as well. I had thought she was an uncanny beauty during the first time we had met. Since she was so dear to me now, the so-called human emotions were unbelievable to me.

To bring back the subject, it appeared that the fact the York house had relations to a royal family was superb, but was getting involved with me something so highly honorable? Maybe because of that, fellow classmates I was not very well-acquainted with would often come talk to me. Like, “Won’t you affiliate with the Salon?”. Or, “I want to be your friend”. Or, “My father is in your father’s debt”. They would one-sidedly grant me information. Even though I would never ask them anything along the lines of, “please tell me about it”.

Meaning that forming a connection with me equaled increasing the prestige of my classmates’ statuses.

——My, my, even if the social positions change, the true nature of people stays the same.

I looked at her and nodded. Just smiling would not earn me anything. To be honest, I was not allowed to talk much.

“My apologies. It seems that Milady would rather refrain from it this time.”

That was because, if I were to speak carelessly, the crude part of me would end up exposed. Until I was done with my “education”, she would act as my representative for all sorts of matters. As a rule, we were only allowed to bring in handmaidens for three months after enrolling into the academy, so from that point onward, I would have to do everything by myself.

“You declined it last time saying the same thing.”

Which was why I would steal and copy the ways of dealing with those kinds of situations from her, my mentor.

“Milady’s body is not stout, and she has been living her girlhood being able to spend a large amount of time by herself. She is not accustomed to life in an organization. She soon becomes feverish from talking with strangers. If you could wait for now until Milady becomes familiar with the academy routine... We know the names and pedigree of people who have come talk to her. She will most likely be the one making invitations eventually.”

“I-Is that so? Then it’s all right. Well, Miss York, good day to you.”

That was a perfectly lady-like manner of refusal, which did not cause either us or the other party to lose face. The refused classmate also did not seem to have taken it with ill intent. She quickly left together with other friends.

“What should we do now?”

It was a rule that the entire school body had to eat at the cafeteria. The atrium-like structure of said cafeteria, which also had terrace seats, bore an air of spaciousness. Even if all three hundred students and the whole academy’s staff had a meal together at the same time, it possessed more than enough seats to accommodate them.

Depending on the time of the year, seasonal events were held there as well. From that point on, the place would be prepared for a ball. I had to get ready for it too. I did not want to, though.

“Milady, what will you be eating?”

“I’m troubled. I feel like having noodles today.”

Each of us had to order our meals out of a predetermined menu to the personnel. I would have fun ordering different things each time, but in the end, I settled for eating a rich noodle soup with plenty of seafood that she recommended me. Since Auto-Memories Dolls journeyed around the world, they were knowledgeable of the noted products and delicacies of given regions. Noodles had a flavor worthy of praise. She said so upon making the decision, putting tealeaves mixed with rose petals into a pot, and I wondered if she was not going to eat anything solid, or even a single bread.

“Don’t you get hungry like that?”

“I have a meal box with me.”

She finished eating in a matter of few seconds, commenting on my aspect and my attitude regarding my surroundings while drinking the black tea afterward. I had not asked about her personal history, but her actions were just like that of the bodyguards who would be around my father. They ate extremely fast as well. They would do so because they could not grab their weapons fast enough while eating. I also ate fast. In my case, it was because I used to live in an environment where I had no idea when I would be able to get food again if I did not eat on the spot.

I suppressed my wish to take the dish in my hands and drink the remainder of the soup with big gulps, scooping it with the spoon. As I ate, I noticed that she had been observing one point all the time. There was a girl coming towards the direction past us in a hesitant pace after having placed post-meal cakes and tea on a tray.

——Uwah, seems like she’ll drop it.

In the instant I thought that, the girl stumbled over nothing. The fact there existed a girl who could trip so prettily in a way that could be called exhilarating was startling even. I could easily imagine the disaster that would be brought about. I readied myself for the three types of cake flying towards me as I squeezed my eyes shut.

However, no matter for how many seconds I braced myself for that reality, the future I had predicted did not come.

As I fearfully opened my eyes, which had been firmly closed, there she was, embracing the girl’s waist with one hand and holding the tray with the other. Although some of them collapsed, the items that had flung midair were secured.

“Are you all right?” She, whose background was unknown and who frequented the academy by playing the role of my handmaiden, displayed wonderful gentlemanly manners.

“Y-Yes...” The cheeks of the girl who had been safely secured along with the cakes were tinted pink.

I was jealous that she was able to look into those blue orbs and be talked to with that skylark-like voice from a very near distance. It seemed many people thought the same, for shrill voices rose from somewhere.

“Let us be careful and go to your table together. Milady, I will leave you for a moment.”

I nodded elegantly, gesturing lightly for her to take care of it. Although it was rude of me, if I were to describe the nervousness of the girl being escorted by her, who walked so gracefully, it was laughable. There was no helping it.

Within one month of attendance, she would occasionally be assisting people, just like me. There was no end to the students who idolized that courteous style in addition to her appearance, voice and way of carrying herself. How could I put it? Perhaps she was a person who could easily... become someone admired in a girls-only garden. Her looks were of an incredible beauty, but the inside was manly, so to speak. No, it was a bit different from that. She had a firm core and was worth being relied upon. Seemed cold but was kind. Gave off a feeling of absolute reassurance. Her figure as she always stood reserved by my side at a reasonable distance was almost like that of a knight.

Yes. Everyone wanted to be protected. Not from a specific foreign enemy, but from the many sorts of uncertainties that we shouldered.

Due to that, I had known for a long time now that she was secretly referred to as “Lady Knight Princess”.

“That is it for the review of today’s class... Now, then, I would like to start dance practice.”

The lessons of the day generally ended at dusk. Afterward, as a rule, we would go back to our room and redo the contents of the classes. After all, I had never received tuition that could actually be called an education. There were many things I did not know. She had been the one dispatched to me also so that I could take lessons in secrecy with the best teacher and cover up the gap between myself and the other students.

Our contract period was of three months. We had twenty days left. I would have to go through self-studies from thereafter. I could manage my lessons even through self-study, but I could not do that about conversational skills, manner of carrying myself or dancing. The fact that she had a relation to Drossel had been the main cause behind her selection, but there were other reasons.

The person who had invited her had been a caretaker of the royal family that did the so-called role of wet nurse, and she seemed to have detected a talent for lecturing in the latter back when she had previously hired her as Auto-Memories Doll. Had she served as mediator by saying that there was a fine and capable person around just when my father had been contemplating about whom to have for teaching such a toilsome girl in secret? I had no idea if that woman knew of my true circumstances, but I believed she had made a superb decision.

Amongst Auto-Memories Dolls, there were many who had received lady-like education and who were young girls, on top of that. It was also easy for them to infiltrate as handmaiden. Had it been a private tutor that just graduated from college, there was a possibility that she would be too old, and more than anything, it was not as if she would be extensively refined. Thinking that way, it maybe could be said that the so-called Auto-Memories Dolls were lady role models who would not cause embarrassment no matter where they turned in. It probably depended on each person, though. At the very least, she was qualified. I was not one to talk, but I had a feeling that she was used to dealing with troublesome people.

I let out a heavy sigh. “Are we seriously gonna do this? I’ll... definitely end up stepping on your feet.”

“It is not a matter of being able to do it or not; it is an indispensable element that you must see to,” she told me flatly as I expressed objection with my sharp tongue.

“Lady Knight Princess, you’re scary.”

“Did you say something just now?”

With an icy gaze directed at me, I rapidly shook my head left and right. “No... I didn’t, I didn’t. Is it okay if we do it wearing the uniform?”

“You should actually wear a dress... but Milady’s dress is not ready yet, so we shall do it like this until it arrives. I will do the male role. Your right hand...”

I was delighted only about holding her hand. I fixed my posture according to what she said.

“The next event is called a ball, but it is a dance party. There will be no problems if you so much as learn the most basic steps of waltz. I believe it is all right not to adhere too much to formalities. The goal is to enjoy it while chatting with your schoolmates. Milady, in order for you not to be troubled when you receive invitations, I shall have you perform both the male and female roles.”

Her hands rounded my back and our bodies came closer at once. My chest that particularly did not form a cleavage and her chest that looked slender under clothing touched, and my cheeks unwittingly grew red. Then I closed my eyes.

“What is the matter?”

“I thought you were gonna kiss me.”

“May I ask why you thought so?”

“Somehow... When bodies are so close together, don’t you feel like doing it?”

“I do not. I will not.”

Being taught by someone with not seem to have a single ounce of sexual desire withered my will as well. Reluctantly, I decided to take the dance lesson seriously.

“The natural position is not to stand straight forward but to turn half of your body to the side a little... Yes, and with my hand touching the area of Milady’s shoulder blade. The elbows must not shake. They tend to shake as we move, but have a horizontal line in mind.”

It was quite difficult to bear straightness in mind. It made me aware of how loose a posture I normally had. My body trembled just from maintaining my pose.

“This is difficult.”

It was difficult enough for me to become coquettish from all the long sighs and agony.

“Accustom yourself to it. Let us repeat the same movement... Milady, please entrust yourself with the male role as we progress. Protecting your aide in a venue where other people are dancing as well is the male role. Leave your body to me... If you do not do so, I cannot protect you whenever it might seem that someone will bump onto us.”

“I kinda... wanna move with more vigor.”

“No can do; please feel my movements... match my breathing.”

“I feel like... my breathing will stop. It really is excruciating, like my body is strained.”

“It will soften with time. Do it slowly in no hurry.”

If I were to describe her teaching, it was as though only the “stick” part had been extracted from “carrot and stick”.

I was exhausted from fatigue just by doing that for ten minutes. Perhaps because I had continued to do it with my neck bent backwards, the muscular pain soon started acting up. I had completely grown sick of dance by break time.

Rolling onto my room’s bed, I hugged my pillow and shouted, “I wanna do something more fun!”

As I flailed my legs to express displeasure, she repressed me without a moment’s delay, “Your underwear is visible.”

Try as I might, it appeared that dancing did not suit me.

As I briefly raised my face, she was staring down at me with a look that obviously seemed to say, “You are such a troublesome person”.

I yelled angrily in defiance, “I can’t do everything as smoothly as you! You and I are different!”

“‘Different’?”

“That’s right! Different in any and everything... You’re unfair...”

The difference was enough to go beyond making one feel jealousy and led them to the point of desistance.

“Aren’t you so blessed?”

She was a pretty, intelligent and proud professional lady who could go anywhere. That was the opposite of me, who was henceforth merely going to be polished and sold off as the commodity so-called “woman”. I was living in order to be eventually delivered to some old man who I had no idea how many years would be apart from me in age with a ribbon wrapped around me. As for her... I did not know what she was living for but she was able to make all sorts of decisions by herself.

I could not choose anything on my own anymore. Because I had made a big choice once.

“Milady.” She sat on the bed and nestled close to me. Then slowly pulled away a tuft of hair that had stuck to my mouth with her artificial fingers.

Was the fact that she had started giving me a mellow look only at times like those despite being expressionless all the time a proof of intimacy from spending the past couple of months with me? Or could it be...

“I have tired you out a bit...”

...a technique of hers? She was truly, truly... extremely kindhearted every now and then. She was being that gentle to me because she was paid to, but even so, such gentleness could become a habit. I decided to view her in a way that left me pondering over how that was surely the reason why she was famous in the Auto-Memories Doll business.

“My deepest apologies for making you force yourself too much.”

She made people mistakenly feel almost as if they were more special than anyone else. Even someone like me.

“I will bring hot water. Please go heal your exhaustion with a bath.”

Even though she was being unreasonably told off by a selfish mistress, she did not give the slightest sign of irritation. I could not imagine her being angry, but there was a limit to how much one could bear up with in that situation. I felt like she had grown weary of me, like she had given up on me, and became anxious.

“H-Hey.” As if working on automatic, my hand moved. “I’ll go too.” I grabbed the hem of her skirt and sat up.

“Milady. The buckets are heavy for you to carry.”

“I don’t wanna make you carry it alone.”

“Milady, all you have to do is to act lady-like.”

“I will, I will. I’ll become the Milady that you want in front of everyone. But, when we’re just by ourselves...”

Maybe because I was making such a desperate face, her eyes softened a little. “Understood.”

We did about three round trips to fill my gold cat-leg porcelain tub with seethed boiling water for a hot bath and finally finished collecting the heated water. There was a large bathtub in the dormitory that everyone used collectively, but we did not fancy it. Her arms were prosthetics, and I did not want her to reveal her naked body to other people either.

As she was about to exit the bathroom with a, “Well, then, take your time”, I detained her. “Let’s go in together.”

“No, thank you.”

“If you only go in after I leave, the water will have cooled down.”

“I do not mind.”

“I’ll be happy if you go in with me.”

“Milady, I am not here to make you happy.”

“We always repeat this dialogue, but in the end, you lose your wit, so just agree upright.”

Silence.

I had complete grasp of how weak she was to pressure.

While it seemed like she wanted to say something, she uttered, “No helping it. However, please stop staring fixatedly at me when I am undressing. Please do not try to touch me without permission, either. I will quit this job the moment that any inappropriate actions take place.”

I regretted not being able to hide my ulterior motives.

We immersed ourselves in the bathtub side by side. Although the tub was wide, it was narrow for two people to go in. She sat on the edge so as not to let her prosthetics touch the heated water to the best of her abilities, while I had my knees folded inside the tub.

It was quite difficult not to stare up and down at her as she wiped her body with a cloth soaked in warm water. Unlike me, who had never done physical exercise, she had a toned body. The glossiness of her skin had a pearly gleam. She herself was the copy of a heavenly nymph from some painting. I believed that no one would manage not to pay attention to a woman with such a beautiful naked figure, regardless of gender.

I brought up a subject as naturally as I could, “By the way, that girl... called you over at the end of class by the school building’s entrance, right? See, the one who stumbled magnificently during lunch break.”

“Aah... My apologies for leaving your side that time.”

“That’s fine. But didn’t she do anything weird to you?”

“She was not the kind of person who coaxes others into kissing like Milady does.”

I wondered if I was the most dangerous person in her perception.

“Right, right... She gave me something in a wrap back then as gratitude. Those things that serve for applying color to nails... were they called ‘nail polish’? There were countless types of them in it. But I am reflecting on how to use them since my hands are prosthetics.”

Her prosthetics impressively started from around the area of both her shoulders. They gave off the impression of being fake. Perhaps because of that, her humanness was indistinct. She really did seem like a mechanical doll. Of course, the flesh part of her was extraordinarily sensual and overflowed with charm, though.

Under what sort of circumstances had she become like that? Had her arms been severed, had they rotted and fallen off? Her visible scars were not only those. From neck to toes, big and small scratches could be faintly spotted.

“Is that so...?”

The war had ended just a few years before in our continent. Even without asking about her past, I somehow could guess it. In reality, arms of white and smooth skin had used to exist there just like her other parts. Even she, who could not be said to have the body of an adult, was supposed not to like the fact that her arms had been turned into artificial ones.

That was why I said especially lightly, “I’ll paint your toe nails. When we get out of the bath. You already received it... so it’s better to wear it for that girl’s sake. She might have been happy just from you accepting it, though.”

“Milady...” She firmly squeezed her lengthy blond hair, water drops spilling from it. “Milady, you have not asked me about my arms even once.”

The droplets that fell down with dripping noises looked like hourglass sand. They made me conscious of my remaining time with her.

I approached her side and smiled. To express that molesting her was not what I intended to do, I raised both of my hands once. On top of that, I placed my cheek over her knee. It gave off the lukewarm feeling of a human being. I had imagined she would have the tender skin of a girl, but that was not the case.

“You also haven’t asked me where or how I was living before becoming the daughter of a big-name millionaire.”

Since I was in love with her, I did feel like monopolizing her future, past and present. But people had things that they did and that they did not want to talk about. I was not very smart, yet I was aware of that much. Because it was valid for me as well.

No matter what happened, I did not want to tell her about my past.

That night, we went to sleep after having painted our toenails with matching colors of nail polish.

I had a dream. A dream about my little sister. I was eating pancakes with her. It was in some place that I did not recognize. A simple wooden house... the kind of home that people would use to describe a happy household.

We had never eaten pancakes during the time we used to live together, so that might have been a manifestation of my desire. The desire of just eating something tasty with my little sister.

She could not properly hold onto the spoon yet, so I was feeding her. In the dream, we had poured plenty of honey and cream onto the pancakes and decorated them with cherry crowns. When I asked her if it was yummy, she beamed and nodded. I was so, so happy with that smile...

And then I woke up.

Overcome as I was with a feeling of great joy that exceeded any pleasure and drug, I could not suppress my tears and coughs. I wiped my snot and tears with the sleeve of my negligee. It was not as if I wanted to cry.

Still, though, what a useless body function. Tears did not serve any purpose. I knew with all of my being that no one would help me out even if I wailed.

Unable to bear lying on my side, I sat up. The disease was more agonizing if I stayed laid down. Rubbing my wheezing chest, I desperately attempted to hold back the coughs.

That disease had afflicted me ever since meeting my father, but it was no thread to my life. It was just that the coughs were painful.

I wondered why that was happening. I was supposed to be happy right now. Yet my body complained about how unlucky and tormented it was.

I had made a choice. For that child’s sake, I could do my best at anything. I had honestly thought that I would be able to endure anything. I had been confident that such feeling would not fade no matter how many cold nights I had to live through. That did not change even as of late, where my situation was different.

——Still, why am I feeling so pained?

“Milady,” a clear voice echoed throughout the bedroom that was enshrouded in night.

My shoulders flinched as I turned my face towards the bed next to mine. I wondered for how long she had been awake, for she was looking at me. Her blue eyes were like candlelight in the slightly dark room.

“My cough won’t...”

“I will bring you water.”

“It’s fine, no need. It’s useless...”

“Then I am going over there.”

She came to my side before I asked. Gathering her own pillows and cushions from the sofa, she piled many of them up. As she placed them at my back, I was able to find a comfortable position even while seated. She also sat close to me, the two of us sharing a blanket. When I stretched out my hand, she held onto it.

“Isn’t it hard for you to sleep if you can’t lie down?”

“I can sleep anywhere.”

“You have an awful job, huh? Even though you’re just an Auto-Memories Doll... you gotta spend three months with someone like me.”

But it was just for a bit more.

“There is no good or bad when it comes to work. Besides, my holding of Milady’s hand right now is not my duty.”

My time with the only person who acted as ally in my academy life full of lies was scarce.

“Yup.” I rested my head on her shoulder. “Hey, you’re nice... but why?”

“What might you mean?”

“Y’know, you’re normally strict... but you’re super nice at times like these, right? Why? Even though I was pretty disgusting. From the very start, you always...”

“‘Disgusting’...?” As if not understanding what I was talking about, she had a question mark overhead.

“Didn’t I tell you when we first met? ‘I have no intention to get familiar with you. So don’t talk to me about anything other than the bare minimum needed for my tuition’.”

Back then, I had been tossed into in a world I did not know, so every person that I saw used to look like an enemy to me. I had convinced myself that such a brazen beauty who had come over at an expensive price was also unmistakably scorning at me on the inside.

“You indeed told me so. I was doing just as you ordered until half the way.”

“Haha, because I took that order back... I am... horrible. You’re... nice...”

It had happened a week after enrollment, in the middle of the night. I had had a coughing fit due to emotional vertigo just like now. I remembered that she had reacted fast and raised her body. For a while, she had watched over me from the neighboring bed as I coughed. As she had merely stood observing, I had resented her, thinking about what a terrible person she was.

——I don’t have a single ally.

It was not as if I had been drunk on tragedy. But I had been unable to think anything other than that. Firmly suppressing tears, I had coiled up.

——I won’t lose; I can’t stay weak like this. I got this cough because my feelings are feeble.

Despite my self-scolding, the cough had only worsened and did not get better. Although it was apparently an illness called asthma, there was no specific medicine for it. I could only wait for it to subside.

——It’s hard to breathe and there’s nothing I can do.

I had been on the verge of going crazy.

——I wanna sleep but I can’t.

Even as I closed my eyelids and nodded off, the coughing had prevented my sleep. Just as I had been about to scream from that vicious cycle, I felt someone’s touch against my back. My body had then convulsed with a start. I had never experienced someone doing something like that for me.

When I bent my neck to look behind, I had found her mutely stroking my back. Albeit not saying anything, her gaze had seemed worried. She had carried on caressing my back. Our eyes had met in the darkness, and she had opened her mouth once but then closed it. I had wondered why. Finally, I had realized it.

——Aah, it’s ‘cause I...

It was because I had told her not to talk. Like a machine, she had been faithfully following what I had said. That had probably been the reason why she had not asked if I was all right... Because I had ordered so myself.

I had thought she was a terrible person.

——I’m the one who’s terrible.

I had lay face-down, hiding my tears and letting her do as she pleased.

——I’m all about myself, but this person is...

Her hand had never stopped.

Was I not actually the one being terrible to the world? Suddenly, that thought had crossed my mind. Because, see, I was supposed to be an unpleasant mistress from her point of view, yet she worried about me. She had been supposedly sleepy too. Saying that having to spend three months beside a cocky and unrefined little girl was some sort of punishment could not be considered a joke. Even so, she was kind.

——She’s nice.

Only when I was by her side could I think slightly gently of the world. I could feel that I was being taken care of. Just a little bit, my existence shone. In the world I so rejected, for the first time, I had been able to breathe in properly.

After that night had passed, I had remade my request to her. I had told her that, if she could, I wanted her to talk to me normally as a fellow girl who was close to her in age.

“I am nice...?” As expected, she remained with a questioning expression. It seemed she had no intention to do that.

I looked at our matching toenails as our feet peeked out of the blanket and laughed, “You are.”

“Is that so? I am merely copying it. One time, when I was injured, the person who was with me left cushions for me like this so that the wounded part would not hurt. Thanks to him, I was able to sleep well that day. There was also a time when I got a fever from overwork, and he woke up many times at night to give me water.”

Since she had been treated kindly, she would mimic it in a similar situation, was what she was saying.

“I see.”

I wondered how many people on this earth could manage to do that. How many of them understood the real meaning behind the merit of doing it.

“Milady, if you cannot sleep, shall we talk about constellations? I am always studying them.”

People cared mostly about themselves.

“‘Kay.”

Even being affectionate with others involved calculations and profits.

“Then, let me tell you about the anecdote of the twin stars that twinkle in the night sky at this time of the year.”

They were properly able to comprehend the wonderfulness of natural kindness only after getting hurt a lot.

“‘Kay.”

I wanted to become strong, I thought.

I wanted to have a soul that would stand tall no matter what winds and waves came at me. I wanted a heart of steel that would not budge, regardless of how much my sadness and loneliness attempted to kill me. Also, I wanted to accept several matters and be kind to people.

I believed that surely her gentleness seeped so deeply into my flesh and bones was because she had been hurt in an equal amount. There were numerous scratches carved into her body. Were they not the same as the wounds in her heart? It was precisely because she was someone who had been hurt that her kindness was different from other people’s.

I did not want to forget the emotion I was having at the time. That was what she made me feel.

Quick, quick, turn.

We repeated dance practice over and over, and when the day of the ball arrived, a package was delivered to me. It had a mail in the name of my father.

Countless large boxes were stacked in a corner of my room. Jewels, dresses and high-heel shoes revealed themselves as we unwrapped their cute casings. A part of them was for her as well.

Upon looking at the postal agency covering letter attached to the baggage, she made a face as though she were suppressing a sneeze.

“What’s wrong?”

“My dress was sent from my company’s president... so the one who delivered it to the academy’s gates was most likely a postman that I know. There is a scribble here.”

On the covering letter was the name of the postman, and next to it was a smile mark that seemed to have been drawn by a child. There was a speech bubble coming from the scribble, and on it were written the words “You playin’ around?”.

“What does this mean?”

“I imagine he wants to say, ‘hurry back home’.”

“That so?”

“My original occupation is ghostwriting, after all. The reason why I took on this job was that I received an invitation from the Drossel Kingdom, which has deep-rooted connections with the York household. Milady, this is a topic unrelated to you, but ever since being hired by them previously, I have received several job proposals... Even for a postal company, turning them down was a tough demand. As a request from the president, I am now here like this, but I myself have never been away from the agency for this long. It is also difficult to keep in touch with the outside world in this place, so I cannot report to them on a fixed term. This letter is probably his own way of showing concern.”

Her voice resounded more gently than usual as she spoke. The facial expression of just now might have been her biting back a smile.

——I see, so there are other people like this?

If it were I of until a while before, my head would have surely filled up with jealousy. But after three months had passed, I had come to know what sort of person she was, and had come to know myself through her. The values of the human being that I was had reformed but a little.

There had not been much change in her expression, but she seemed happy, so I was happy too. Of course, I felt loneliness as well.

“Hey, you leave today, right?”

“Yes. Our contract will terminate as soon as the ball ends. I will depart tonight.”

“Then, let’s have lots of fun together... in the ball,” I forced a laugh.

——Just a bit more left. I want the figure of myself that will stay within you to be something joyful.

“Well, then.”

——Because I’m fond of you. So I want you to place me in your good memories. Even if I don’t become a part of your life, even if you forget me, even if I’m the only one who will remember, I want to make a little effort. For both the girl I like and the little sister I love, I want to be something good. I want to remain as something good.

“Could you escort me?” I stretched out my hand and said so as a joke, yet she all too seriously nodded, raised one leg and kneeled down on the spot.

“With pleasure, Milady.”

Even though she was called “Lady Knight Princess”, there was no helping her coolness.

My fingerless gloves were made of black lace embroidery. Bijou straps held my slender heeled shoes.

I did not need my glasses. I had an escort, after all.

I placed a wreath woven with fresh flowers on my hair. My pastel pink square-neck satin dress, which seemed to make a laughable appeal to cuteness, was as light as a feather. A red panier that looked like piled-up roses was visible from underneath the ankle-length hem.

Since I had only ever dressed modestly in the academy, the schoolmates I passed by whispered something at the discrepancy of impression that I brought about. No, perhaps it was not me. The person that they were supposedly spreading rumors about was someone else.

“Everyone’s looking at you.”

Her high-neck dress tightly buttoned up to her collar did not allow any distracting exposure. It was a full-fledged protection so-called a long-sleeve robe. I wanted to commend the sense of the person that had chosen it. It concealed her arms of artificial mechanism in a splendidly elegant way.

“Is there anything strange about it?”

“No. It means you’re pretty.”

“But everyone is dressed-up.”

“You’re the prettiest of all.”

Decorated with a braid, her long, long golden hair cascaded down from one side of her face. Seen from behind, her figure was most charming. Like stars, there were rose adornments here and there on her hair and dress. She herself was looking slightly doubtful, but her beauty was one that could be observed forever.

The cafeteria had its appearance transformed and turned into a ball venue. Said venue, covered with white and blue glitter markings, was like a world made of night skies. Silver balloons flew and spread around over the atrium ceiling. Arranged on countless interconnected long tables were various delicacies that displayed the prowess of the academy’s cooks.

From meat dishes to fish dishes, one could eat gems of rich hues at the buffet. An overwhelming sense of presence wafted from cupcakes and cookies lined up in rows, which had icing applied even to their insides.

It seemed that the table coordination plan was committed as well. Flowers decorated the teacups, candlelight wavered from within glass blows and all glasses had chiffon ribbons tied around them.

“Sublimely expensive, huh. Almost like a wedding ceremony. I’ve never attended one, though.”

Should a land of dreams exist, I wondered if it would feel like that.

Unlike me, who was nervous from being at my first time in such a situation, she was something majestic. Actually, she no different from normal.

“Shall we get ourselves something...? Is there anything you wish for?”

I rested a hand on my stomach and groaned, “My corset is tight so it doesn’t seem like I’ll be able to eat much... Hey, don’t leave my side. My vision is pretty blurry. It’s not like I can’t see, though.”

“I promise. I will not leave your side.”

Just as declared, although many people called to her, she did not leave my side. At the height of the banquet, volunteering students gathered up bringing instruments and started playing music. Everyone began swaying and, while blindly following an inspection on the melody, they went out into the dance hall with their partners. My stomach started hurting as that time at last arrived.

——If I fail, they’ll find out that I’m not a girl of nobility.

Such act that would stain the dignity of the York family. They might then become unable to go along with the conditions established in exchange of me carrying out the duty of successor.

In spite of saying, “I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna”, I had been doing my best for that sake.

“Milady,” someone whispered into my ear, causing me to have goosebumps.

I turned my whole body, which had become stiff from anxiety, toward her direction. The one standing beside me was...

“Please be at ease. Milady, your grasp of dance is perfect. I guarantee it.”

...my sole ally.

“It might be easy to trip with shoes that you are not used to. However, if you are concerned about stumbling down, it absolutely will not happen.”

She was the only girl who knew of my circumstances.

“After all, I will protect you.”

My girl, who was like a knight.

——If you say so, there will be no failures. Because I know it. You don’t tell lies, and you definitely fulfill your promises.

It could be idiotic of me to believe so much in her even though we had only spent a few months together. If it were my former self, I would never let my guard down like that. Still...

——Still, it’s because it’s you.

“Yup, I trust you.”

——Because it’s you.

“And thank you for until now; this is your last job.”

——Because it’s you.

“I’ll leave the man role to you, but do let me say it.”

——Because it’s you, I fell in love and followed after you.

“Violet, please take my hand.”

The golden-haired, blue-eyed Auto-Memories Doll – the most beautiful and distinguished person out of the people I had encountered – Violet Evergarden – smiled the slightest bits as she spoke, “Gladly, Milady.”

After the ball, we bathed together like always, dried each other’s hair and combed them. Violet went back into the same look as when we first met, with her jacket, ribbon-tie one-piece, emerald brooch and cocoa-brown boots, departing from the academy after midnight.

The next day, I would surely be faced with a bombarding of questions. About where the Lady Knight Princess had gone to.

As we bid farewells, I made her just one request, “I’ll pay for this someday; now I’m empty-handed so I can’t give you anything, but I’ll definitely return the favor. That’s why, can I ask you something as a friend...?”

Violet Evergarden replied with her sweetly ringing voice, “Lady Amy Bartlett. I do not accept money from friends.”

Hearing that response, I became pained enough for my breathing to stop.

I never saw her again after that. Only our letter exchange continued on forever.

When the name of Isabella York was still Amy Bartlett, she had picked a little girl from a nearby prostitute district at almost the break of dawn.

“Go steal something better next time.”

A boy wearing a hunting hat and bolero that hid his body up to his neck came out of a conversion store that also dealt with stolen goods. Upon a better look, it was obvious that he was actually a girl but her not fully developed body concealed her gender. For a woman to be dressing as a man if not as a hobby, the reason mostly had to do with protecting her own chastity.

Such was that town.

While clicking her tongue and spitting curses at the shopkeeper’s greedy negotiations, Amy found a girl sitting on the ground as she exited the store.

——Aah, this kid...

Rather than a girl, she was closer to being a baby. She was the daughter of a commercial comrade that Amy was close to. Nevertheless, both the child’s parent and Amy were teenagers of the same age group.

The whole town where Amy lived was a prostitution district located in a halfway point that interconnected big cities. The economic structure of the town based itself on entertaining travelers that would run out of supplies and migrating soldiers. The most common business in town after prostitution was burglary. There were also cases where prostitutes served as thieves.

The stolen belongings were brought over to the conversion store, their owners would show up searching for them, and the shopkeeper would make a deal with them for double the original price. It was a vicious cycle of commerce where complicity happened between robbers and sellers.

Amy would often see that child whenever she exited the conversion store. She had also gossiped with the latter’s mother many times.

“Where’s your mom?”

When Amy asked so, the child pointed towards a spot not too far away. Someone had collapsed there. The way that the person’s neck twisted was strange, and so Amy immediately knew that she had died.

“Won’t move.”

“Right, she’s dead.”

Had it been trouble because of jealousy, or had it been a random attacker?

It was probably useless to tell anyone that a person had passed away. She would predictably be told that than living in such a town, where 90% of the crimes that occurred were let be, was worse.

——But since we don’t know any other place or other way of living, this is the only town where we can live.

Amy gazed down at the child who was not yet able to understand her own mother’s death. She had fluffy and curly marigold-colored hair. Although she was wearing drapes, but her facial traits had a loveliness taken after her mother.

If left alone, she would likely be taken away and sold off by some pimp. Either that or she would get caught in the gears of theft business and become unable to break free from it. If one were to presume an even more horrid outcome, her entire body would be cut apart and end up in the hands of a dilettante.

“Your mom bought bread for me once.”

In the past, Amy had been forced to make the same choice. To her, that child almost looked like herself.

“I hadn’t managed to steal any wallets at all and hadn’t eaten anything for who knows how many days, so she was a big help.”

The truth was that she had never received any bread from her, and was merely telling a lie in order to use it as reason.

“That’s why I’ll help bury her.”

Amy waltzed back into the conversion store, told its owner about the situation and borrowed the help of a man. Acquaintances of the child’s mother were present as well, but no one proposed to report to the military police.

After an examination, she was buried safely in a nearby military cemetery. Upon finishing the burial, everyone seemed heavy-eyed.

“What do we do about that thing?” The conversion store’s shopkeeper treated the child who did not attempt to move away from her mother’s grave as an object. “Cut her in pieces or sell her? If you leave it to me, I’ll give you a portion.”

In that moment, Amy’s hands grabbed ahold of the fate of that child who to her was no different from a baby.

——When it was me, this man decided to make me into a thief.

To Amy, an everyday where she had to live as a robber was the worst, but perhaps she had to be thankful that she was not pickled in formalin. No, was she actually supposed to resent him? He had forced her into a path to live in such a world.

“I’ll make her my little sister.”

“Haah?”

That was why Amy thought about bestowing the child with another choice.

“I’ll make her my sister. No cutting her in pieces or selling her.”

No one would use her, nor would she use anyone. She would be granted a choice to be loved as just a child, who might have existed even if she had not been born in that place.

“Amy. She ain’t your kid, right? What kinda sense of duty are you doing that for?”

Amy answered the conversion store’s owner while laughing, “For revenge.”

For herself, the child and the mother, Amy believed she wanted to take revenge upon the world and destiny that were subjecting them to such circumstances.

Amy had been angry ever since being born. And when her mother was murdered by a hoodlum. And when she was coerced by a man into stealing. Even now as she stood in the middle of a cemetery covered in morning fog, Amy was all the while angry. What was that world even, she wondered.

——What did I or they do? Why is the world so unfair?

It was absurd, violent and cruel enough to make her nauseated. Every day, either her body or her heart would ache. There was not a single day without pain.

——Whoever created the world, whoever gave minds to humans and dropped them down to earth is insane.

Amy cursed the perverted bastards that so liked to see people suffering.

“I’ll make this kid happy. She was actually supposed to have been unlucky. I’ll change that. It’ll serve right the horrible people who were supposed to earn money out of her and the God that had been dictating her fate. Just you watch... I’ll definitely, definitely show her a proper lifestyle.”

Amy Bartlett had become Isabella York one year after that.

Just when Amy had come to learn about loving someone, a messenger of someone who claimed to be her father paid her a visit. According to the messenger, he even now wanted the child of a lover that he had settled with over money in the distant past.

His heirs had perished one after another from an epidemic. He would get her out of that poverty. Therefore, she should present herself to him. Although the messenger spoke in a delicate manner, in the end, he had come to say such a thing.

Destiny made effective use of irrationality. The world only ever used Amy.

Amy asked about her little sister. What would happen to the latter if she went over to the York house?

The messenger looked at Amy’s sister, who she had held in her arms and not let go of ever since he had appeared, and smiled.

They could never see each other again. A person from that household was not allowed to be involved with the daughter of a prostitute. If she did everything as told, they could send her sister to an orphanage or to a family that wanted children as an adopted one.

“That would also be better for her. Will you let her live like this?” he asked while laughing.

——“Let her live like this”?

Upon being questioned, Amy looked around her apartment. Even for someone living on their own, the rooms were of a narrow plan. She had no idea how many years of construction the place had. Both the floor and roof were inclined, and if a storm came, the people who lived there would be blown away. There was a pan with leftovers of a soup that she had made two days before in the kitchen. It was the only thing they would have as meal for that day, too. One of the sides of the room’s curtains was missing. On the floor lay a doll that she had bought for her sister. There were two picture books. Both had been handouts from someone else. Those were the only child toys they owned. Due to a routine without daytime or nighttime, their laundry seemed about to overflow from its basket.

It was a messy apartment. There was nothing clean. Yet it was the most that Amy could currently manage. There was nothing else she could do. No matter how much she triturated her body and worked, God would not give her anything. They did not exist. At the very least, They had never appeared to her.

There was no hope in her life. No passion. No kindness, either. There was not a single thing that shone in such a world of thin pitch-darkness. If there was but one wonderful thing in it...

“Big Sis,” from within Amy’s arms, the most precious of the elements that composed her – her little sister – mustered out a tearful voice, “Bi-g Sis.” Perhaps having felt her guardian’s distress with her entire body, she had started making a crying face. “Big Sis.”

She was not yet able to say Amy’s name correctly, so she had been taught an abbreviation for “big sister” as a provisional pet name.

“Big Sis.”

Amy had wanted to do many things for the child once she grew up.

“Big Sis.”

She wanted her to attend school, make friends and experience many enjoyable moments.

Their relationship had started out of revenge, but that was not the case now. She had managed to find hope for living in her dissatisfaction-ridden, awful life. Saving a small living being who would not be protected by anyone but herself, that is.

Such was Amy’s sole wonderful something. It had become the reason why she was currently fighting to live.

“Come now, there is only one answer you can give, right?”

The man extending a hand to her in the thin pitch-darkness was turning out as not an angel but a demon. Alarm bells resounded in her head, telling her that those who moved forward beyond that point had to throw hope away entirely.

She could not afford to separate from the value of her life, which she had finally found. She did not want to do it. She wanted to flee.

——But...

As the man had said, there was only one answer that she could give.

Along a highway of thriving greenery, there was an orphanage established through the reformation of a building that used to be a church. In the vicinities of the national institution, which Drossel was contributing to, there were fields and pastures that served as sustenance for the inquilines.

The children that had been taken in were doing farm work while occasionally messing around with each other. As the staff watching over them admonished with, “Do it seriously”, they could hear the vehicle noises of a motorcycle, which could not be well discerned due to being far away from where they were. It was running nimbly through the road of unpaved soil.

Said motorcycle that cut through a scene of cheerful routine stopped in front of the orphanage. Just as the staff fearfully went to inquire about the guest, a man was dismounting the motorcycle.

“It’s the mail.”

He was an odd postman who wore high-heel boots that seemed to make it difficult to walk in such a rural area. His way of speaking was rough, but he had given a proper greeting.

The postal items were letters, and the recipient was a girl that had just recently come to the orphanage. She was an infant who could not yet do farm labor.

Albeit put off by the man, who asserted that he would deliver the mail in person and did not listen to anyone, the staff led him to the room where the girl was. As he entered said room, the girl was absent-mindedly observing colorful lights pouring from a stained glass that had remained intact from the times when the place was a church.

The vivid lights that had transparently melted into the room illuminated it. Perhaps the room was a place for keeping play equipment owned by the children, for there were many bookshelves and toys arranged in it. A young woman dressed as a nun, who indeed seemed to like children, was watching over the other infants.

“Yo, you’ve got two letters addressed to you.” The postman crouched down to meet the child’s gaze and offered the letters.

The child did not try to take them. It might be her first time receiving letters.

She took out of her mouth the finger that she had been sucking and pointed to herself. “Taylor.”

A gleam that seemed like it would pull people in floated on her big eyes. She was apparently welcoming the strange element that had abruptly entered her life, the postman.

The man’s voice resounded with a naturally softened pitch, “Yep, they’re for you.” His eyes narrowed and he smiled just a little.

“For Taylor?”

“That’s right. Two letters for Miss Taylor Bartlett. Can you read? I guess it’s a stupid question to ask a brat that looks like a baby. Hey, you over there; can she read?”

Suddenly talked to by the handsome postman as she stayed silent, the young nun had her face red. She then shook her head mutely.

“No helping it. Hey, Taylor, I’ll read them for you. Is that okay?”

“Taylor.”

“Cool, so it’s okay.”

“Big Bro.”

“Who’s ‘Big Bro’? I have ‘Benedict Blue’ as my awesome name... No, listen. These two envelopes have each come from a different sender. One is from Violet Evergarden. She’s my colleague. It says there that you can visit her if you have any troubles or any favors to ask in the future. She even courteously included a map to CH Postal Service... It means that you can come over if you have problems in getting a job.” The postman, Benedict, pushed the letter onto Taylor after having finished reading it. “Next: sender unknown. Written in it is... What? So short...” There was no other text even as he tried turning over the stationary, so Benedict read it as it was, “‘This is a magic word that will protect you – “Amy”. You just have to recite it’... is what it says.”

Taylor reacted with a start to that word. Her eyes opened wide, blinking several times.

Just for the sake of putting it out there, Benedict bent his neck towards the nun and threw a complaint, “You should teach this kid how to read.”

“Maybe it’s because of the environment she was raised in, but her absorption of knowledge falls behind in comparison to the other children. We have to take care of the other children as well, so we don’t have time to teach her with constant supervision...”

“I get it, but,” Benedict began, “it’s gonna be necessary for when she grows up, ain’t it? More importantly, she can’t read letters... even though I went through the trouble of delivering them. People write letters because they want them to be read, right? And there’re two. Two fellows who sent her letters. It’s okay if it takes time; just teach her.”

Unlike Auto-Memories Dolls, the postmen’s job was delivery. Regardless, even for them, the desire of properly sending the feelings that someone had entrusted them with was the same.

Auto-Memories Dolls got to see the faces of their clients, but they mostly did not see the faces of the people to whom said clients sent letters. The ones who witnessed the moment that someone’s delivery arrived were they.

Indifferent to the exchange between Benedict and the nun, Taylor was attempting to pronounce the word that she had been told, “Eh... Big Sis.”

She did try to do so, but what came out were different words. That was the nickname of the grown-up who had been together with her for a single year in her life, which had only just started.

A new bed, many strangers that she had never seen before. Within that fresh everyday, her memories of that person were fading away. Taylor no longer recalled even her own mother’s face. Surely her recollections of the person called “Big Sis” would be thrown into a furnace of oblivion eventually.

“Big Sis.”

However, now was different. She could remember the doll that that person had given her and the flavor of her soup.

“Big Sis, Big Sis.”

She could remember the warmth from the times of being embraced by her, as well as her hair that used to smell sugary.

“Big Sis.”

She could remember fact that that person used to be a significant existence to her.

As tears surfaced in her eyes, she was able to recall vestiges.

“Amy.”

To Taylor Bartlett, before she had realized, that word had become a magic spell for mustering courage.

The girl stared up at a red brick building that had a weathercock on its top.

The windows seemed already open.

After that, a young woman of lustrous blond hair revealed herself.

It was a place noisier and more valuable than what she had imagined. For the girl, that place was a dreamy one.

Firmly grasping the white dress she was clad in, she stepped forward. And, at the same time, she recited the magic spell.

“Amy.”

My most beloved Taylor, this is a letter I cannot send.

From now on, I don’t have any sort of relationship with you. This is the agreement I have made.

Taylor, you see, the truth is that maybe I didn’t want to become a big sister, but a mother.

I love you, so I made this decision on my own accord. I wonder how that will affect your life. I won’t stop wishing for it to go in a good direction.

You’ll forget about me for sure. I wonder if you’ll grow up thinking you don’t have a family. But y’know, Taylor, even if I’m not around anymore, and even if I get buried away within your memories, you’ll call for me. Just that is enough.

Our bond is eternal.

The fact that I used to like your hair, the color of your eyes and your smile, and the fact that I believed I wanted to make you happy – all of it will become eternal. Since “Amy” is a name I can’t be addressed as anymore, since I loved you and since that time was an eternity to me, there will be continuation to it whenever you recite something as if it were magic. There will be continuation to the me that you’re fond of.

That’s why, my Taylor, call my name if you get lonely.

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