the water takes all

a kiss to make up for an argument

a dominating kiss to end an argument 

a gentle kiss to ask forgiveness 

a kiss against shoulder blades as arms wrap around from behind 

a kiss against the shoulder after waking up beside each other 

a kiss to distract

a kiss against tear stained cheek

a kiss on the brow 

a kiss where they’re both covered in blood

a kiss after one muse has killed for the other 

a kiss after one muse has injured the other 

a kiss between enemies who should be fighting 

a kiss between exes who meant to walk away 

a playful kiss to make the other stop rambling 

an adoring kiss because the other is rambling 

a kiss to end sexual tension 

an angry kiss 

a tearful kiss 

a kiss to prove a point 

a hesitant kiss 

a kiss from one muse who should be afraid of the other 

a kiss from a muse who the other should be afraid of 

kisses scattered along hardened jaw to try and sooth 

a kiss as if trying to answer a question 

a kiss between furrowed brows to try and comfort 

a kiss from someone the other didn’t think thought of them that way 

a kiss that says thank you 

a kiss on the corner of the mouth,  hoping for more but expecting nothing 

an exploratory kiss,  testing the waters between them 

a kiss on the forehead of one who is starting to fall asleep 

a kiss against the cheek after discovering the other is napping 

a platonic kiss just meant to express overwhelming emotion 

a kiss to comfort both parties

a kiss stemmed from relief 

a kiss to make the other believe professed feelings 

a possessive kiss to remind the other who they belong to 

a possessive kiss to show the world they belong to each other

a kiss stemmed from jealousy 

a kiss to make someone else jealous 

a biting,  passionate kiss 

a kiss against the neck which feels more like a bite,  teeth bruising skin 

a desperate kiss as if they are convinced they’ll slip through each other’s fingers 

a kiss to make each other feel alive 

a kiss stolen away in a corner,  ignoring crowds 

a kiss after being pulled into an alley to have a moment to themselves 

a kiss after grabbing the other’s arm and pulling them back close 

a kiss to convince the other to stay 

a kiss like they’re trying to convince the other to love them 

a hopeful kiss in the rain

a desperate kiss in the rain 

an angry kiss in the rain 

a possessive kiss in the rain 

a playful,  happy kiss in the rain 

a passionate kiss stemmed from previous heartbreak in the rain 

a kiss in the rain to make up like it’s a damn romcom 

a kiss in the rain filled with the foreboding of a goodbye 

a kiss to make the other stop being stubborn 

a kiss after treating a wound 

a defiant kiss 

a kiss between partners in crime in front of someone they hold captive 

a kiss to anger a third party 

an adrenaline filled kiss shared after committing a crime 

Byleth went to enter the library only to be met with a No Entry sign and an extremely irate looking librarian blocking the way. “What’s going on here?” They enquired. The professor was only looking to do a bit of research into past residents of the monastery, hoping to find mention of their mother. It was a touchy subject, always had been in their family, so they were already on edge.

“We’re sick of people not returning books. The library’s precious resources are dwindling by the day and enough is enough” the librarian informed them. “So we’ve decided until those books are returned. No one is allowed anywhere near our books”

Byleth huffed in annoyance. “If I help get your books back, can I have access?” They asked. Getting confirmation and a list of some culprits, the former mercenary stalked away with their new mission in mind.

Get those books back.

Rounding the corner they spotted the light blue hair of Shigure. He wasn’t on the list but that didn’t mean he didn’t have any books. Marching up to him, Byleth asked in a no nonsense tone. “Have you got any books? People are overdue on their loans and I don’t particularly care how I get them back”

hands gently touch his sides - only to realise he was without his bag. unfortunate, but surely, no harm done? he procured the slip at the very least. ' a history on the tending of pegasi in fodlan '.

it was thankfully prior to the book ban that he had managed to obtain it. nothing more than light reading - his flying lessons were not as demanding of him yet. a seasoned flyer did not struggle in the beginner lessons, after all.

ah , but this professor seemed a little . . . well, annoyed.

well, more than annoyed. sensitive to emotions was shigure, and yet, it did not take a genius to detect the palpable frustrations on her face & riddled throughout her tone. "perhaps you need a helping hand," finger points to list, with an affirmative nod. "or two ? i'm sure i can kindly ask my classmates to return them."

hand clasps illustration - a small portrait of kurthnaga. despite it all, the frustrated librarians had made a rather unfortunate depiction. it hardly looked a thing like kurthnaga.

"excuse me," he speaks gently, presenting himself to kurthnaga. he seems to be the closest person looking like the image. . . kind of ? it's in black and white - hard to tell. pegasus knight scrutinizes it once more, before granting kurthnaga an affirmative nod. "ah. hello."

Shigure's hand is steady on her wrist, and she sees the calm surface atop of the deep currents. He is her son, through and through, understanding how his mother looked at the world in a way that many others could not. Her hands were his hands, a version that she hoped would live and blossom and not feel the weight of the past on his shoulders.

She loves her son so very much.

Her arms wrap around his chest and she holds him. Solid, connected; she often asked her children ' may i touch you? may i hold you? ' before she actually did -- something she needed in turn, to not be surprised by physical contact. But this transcended that question, because if she did not hold her child she feared she would wash away.

"Your voice," she explained as he held him. "I had heard you call to me. You, your sister, and your father." The truth of it was strange and murky, and she did not understand the entirety of how she came to be. There is magic here, piecing her together.

eyes allow themselves to close, and gently does he return her hold. in contrast to her solid touch, his is light. in contrast to her fear of him disappearing, he fears she may break beneath his arms. eyelids scrunch themselves shut deeper, and there is still disbelief pounding through his veins. "but how do i keep you here ? how do i know ?"

celebrations could be had when he knows there is permanence. "mother, i," he has to tell her everything. as if this is only a brief moment. his body wills himself not to accept the comfort of finality - it has never been granted to azura, and thus never him by excess. "i listened to you. i have never sung that song ever since you passed."

slowly his hold tightens. "nina is well. father is, too. they still bicker here and there," shigure speaks quickly in contrast to his typical calm pace. adrenaline, yes, but the aforementioned worry still took a backseat. his heart pounds, and he wonders if she can feel it. "i think-- yes, father has a job here. the golden eagles. nina, she entered philanthropy."

he remembers to breathe. he steers the stinging from his eyes once again, but dares not to open them. "i have spent my days in hoshidan governance. i'm good at the language now. i suppose i'd have to be . . ."

if it were anyone else, he'd probably laugh.

instead, he just watches, inspecting his form and trying to think in advance of ways he could help him improve. so much of it is muscle memory, things learned through form correction and extensive practice rather than described outright. still, he's seen more hopeless cases here, been the poor sod assigned to helping even them.

as shigure finally notices him, niles can't help but smile.

( something about this boy, bringing out a soft side in him he usually keeps better-hidden )

he immediately moves to hug shigure—tightly as he can. he wonders distantly, and not for the first time, if shigure inherited his sicknesses, his wrongness. if he did, he shows no signs of it. every time he thinks of this, he feels relief. like he is not inherently contaminated, beyond repair. that something good can come from him.

it is spoken jokingly, warm smiles fronted towards his father. it is true shigure takes after his mother much more , the two of them sharing a wavelength in both song and lance. it was by his choice alone that he had taken a peculiar interest in riding, however - the companionship of an animal was unparalleled. the freedom his deeprealm provided ensured he could soar without fear. the memories were soft, warm and kind. "i guess not, huh ?"

shigure does not shy from affection towards his parents. he never entered a ' that's so cringe ! ' phase of his life. he has always been vocal on his admiration towards them both - to give him everything he needed. alas, they had set shoes for him to fill . . . but he knows they never meant to.

"but, i'm a student in your class now. so i don't want any favoritism. i would like for you to teach me everything you would a student," shigure nods in vigor. "and, maybe, sometime. . . i could teach you a lance trick or two, right ?"

a pause. "i missed you," he finally says. "i'm relieved to be home, even if so far away from it at the same time."

It had been disorientating. Azura was not sure if she was alive or still floating endlessly through the expanse in front of her; she had felt the earth beneath bare feet and had folded her arms around her knees. She had kissed Niles' lips and felt safe harbor - but she did not feel she was living. Not yet.

Azura stands, her hair in her face and first morning's light tickling her cheeks. She wrinkles her nose, smiles a little, and looks skyward. She is newly formed, carving her way from the past to the present. She only hopes this is not a dream.

When she hears his voice, she thinks that it might be. She turns to see him and sees herself in his face. She sees his father, too, and his sister. The burdens he carries on his shoulders are too much even if he will not admit it; Azura tried to end it with her, tried to drown their past miseries and that which followed their family from mother to mother to son.

"Shigure?" her voice is crisp, but still soft. She never was one to talk too loudly. "My son, is that...?"

If she is water and dreams and magic, then she cannot hold him. If Shigure is music and flight and hope, he cannot be held. She knows it is too much to ask for more than a dream, but still she reaches.

Shigure does not move, but Azura does. She approaches, walks on the balls of her feet and touches his cheeks. She cups her hands and finds her wish has been made real; he does not disappear when she touches him, he does not turn to mist.

come the day he had fled his deeprealm from blood and gore , it was her gaze that had almost made him believe for a second that all was well.

when she touches him, it is the same. head freezes and he takes a deep inhale - he fears she may fade away for a moment. "i . . . lead you here ?" his voice is quiet. shigure dares not speak over her. there is almost a sense of urgency to try and force her voice to memory once more - the devastation at his forgetfulness was unlike anything else the day he realised. a look of shock is clear as day on his features now, and he makes no reason to hide it. "me ?"

eyes sting, if only for a moment, and he subdues the sensation by blinking. he does not cry, he has never cried in front of others before , yet could one blame him for feeling tempted when the embrace of his once forever deceased mother was right before him ? he grants himself the mercy of leaning into her hands.

"mother. i . . . no," hand clasps gently onto her wrist, as if she were to fade apart at any moment. "it's selfish. but i don't want to wake up just yet. this is the first time you've managed to stay."

it's his first day of school, he'll sleep past his alarm, he'll miss his classes - the perfectionist in him curses the idea, and yet it is silenced.

how lucky shigure is to have such a bond with both his parents. many of his friends did not have such a blessing.

going straight into flight as shigure had demonstrated, however, is too much to ask of a man who has never so much as sailed through the air after a comically strong punch. therefore, dwyer starts how he knows best: with a gentle tap of reins and a squeeze of his legs, he starts into a walk. good so far.

it takes a few short laps before he has enough desire to truly start. he tightens his hands around the reins, looks once, then twice over his shoulder... and gently pulls back.

the pegasus responds to his command easily, which is perfect for a trained horse and positively terrible for dwyer. the beast jumps and spreads its wings quickly, making every movement short and fast for efficient handling. its rider is startled by all the movement and begins to look around frantically as a result.

good gods, oh, merciful dusk dragon to whom he rarely prays, Are You Seeing This Shite ? they are not far off the ground, but dwyer hazards a guess that a fall from the height he's at would hurt even if he didn't die. as the pegasus flaps its wings there is unfamiliar turbulence, and dwyer can feel himself rocking in his saddle. oh, good heavens.

"dwyer-- dwyer, please--" shigure calls out in the midst of the panic, voice calm and stable. best not to set the pegasi off. "you're beginning to upset her--"

quickly, he slides off his pegasi to grab ahold of the foot pedals. she wasn't too high up, he could surely handle it. it would not be his first time manoeuvring a nervous pegasi.

and when the yelling begun, it was truly over. she begun slapping her wings hysterically, feathers flying awry with a wave of angry whinnies and snorts. before shigure could so much as come to tame her, dwyer was thrown - much akin to a wet bag of socks.

oh god. okay.

roll ! = catch, 13 out of 20.

it is ungraceful, the way in how shigure positions his arms outwards as if he were trying to catch fruit dropping from a tree. he isn't quite sure how this is going to work, really - but he quickly braced his shoulder for the possibility of dwyers teeth colliding with it. it is only a matter of seconds before dwyer might eat dirt, after all. oh, they really should have done this in a field.

thankfully, he catches him. awkwardly. like a baby, actually. dwyer is taller than him, and thus his arms are kind of strapped around his legs as he bends his torso over his shoulder. . ..

"there ! there you go," shigure sounds almost sheepish. as soon as dwyer was off of her, the pegasus returns to the ground, tucking her wings and waiting calmly. expectantly. "i , ah. . . really should have been a bit more careful before we launched into this. i'm sorry."

how does he put him down properly ?

shigure slides to his knees and nudges dwyer off his shoulder. "um," he realises, dwyer can just stand up. "you could probably just. stand up from here, really."

dwyer thinks he knows a few things about horses. before the life of a butler he first had to walk the path of the troubadour, which entailed horseback and, interestingly enough, his choice of dress back home. when not in his nohrian butler-cloth, dwyer dons the familiar grays-and-purples of his riding dress, boots and hip-shields aplenty.

but all of this is news to him. horses know him? they know his feelings? was this why horse kept biting him when he thought about taking a sweet, sweet nap after a clash? dwyer shudders. Do Horses Know His Thoughts?

he shakes his head, untamed silver tresses flopping where they choose. now is NOT the time to be intimidated by equines, he thinks. if they know things, then they can smell fear. probably.

these thoughts are a bit ridiculous, dwyer realizes, as shigure is looking at him with all the care a friend can possibly have. even if the pegasus could suss out dwyer's uncertainty, surely shigure would guide him to righting it. this is simply what friends do.

so as shigure instructs him on how to mount a pegasus---similar, dwyer finds, to horses, though with the added difficulty of swinging around the wings---he does it with no qualms, settling on alice's splendid white back as though he were gearing up to head out on his own mare.

he does a light shrug. "to have them stop, it's a touch more of a stricter pull. does that make sense ?" at that, he pushes his feet outwards, to get dwyers attention. "and to have them descend, simply push down on your foot rests."

as a demonstration, his pegasus leaps - gently gliding through a patch of air before settling onto the ground. "it's really a bit scary the first time ! the feeling of weightlessness. take it as a very long jump," he does it again. "and you will be perfectly fine. try to go a little higher each time, even."

nights upon days upon dusk upon dawn had it fallen upon shigure to think. when a parent passes , is it not a means of closure for the child to hold their hand ? to see them form wrinkles, grey hair, to grow frail as time passes and yet ultimately support them ? a child is not supposed to outlive their parent , and yet . . . are they not entitled to some form of time with them outlasting a decade ?

a selfish thought, he ought to perish it. he has tried. he has failed.

& though selfish as it was , grief was a terrible thing. desperation comes in many forms. it begun as a desire to memorize her voice - to imitate her vocals, a pitch far too high for him to attempt ( & would it not strike unnecessary pain to nina ? to his father ? shigure had naturally developed into much of what azura was . hobbies , appearances , demeanor. if he were to pull parts of himself to bear her burdens , what more would be shigure and what would be azura ? ).

within six months he had forgotten the specifics of her voice. within seven, the realisation of having never memorised the final verse of their song dawned upon him. within one second alone, it seemed the world had forgotten her altogether.

shigure , nonetheless , continues. the world marches onwards, absent of azura , faded from the pages of history as if she had never existed in the first place.

( did she die peacefully ? ) is a good question to ask, when faced with the morbidity of death. ( why did i not get to say goodbye ? ) is a more realistic one that gnaws at his mind.

( should i have offered with more insistence to bear her burdens ? )

( would she have listened if i begged ? should i have done as much ? she did what she had to, but . . . )

shigure does well not to show it. he knows not to panic. he is a calm person. the death of a family member is an ocean of grief - he did well not to add to the depth.

he perfects his notes. he joins choir practice. in previous lessons, they said he's a natural for it - but his voice is better for the deeper notes. hands close the lyrics book before him, in the silence of the church.

eyes meet hers, a fair distance away - and he stalls. voice can no longer lurch from his throat, and instead comes as a nervous laugh. a croak, if anything. he has had this dream before - he reaches for her, and she dissipated between his fingers, leaving nothing but seafoam in her wake. she opens her mouth to speak, and yet it is is as if she is muted. that is how it always went.

" mother ? " shigure sounds weak and he knows it. "we've had this dream time and time again. is it you trying to tell me something ?"

he does not move, and yet forces every muscle in his face to relax into the serenity he always dons. "it's okay to pass on. i'll ensure everyone is okay. you don't have to worry yourself sick anymore," a reassuring nod. "please. . . rest."

hand runs itself down the mane of the pegasus. "steady breaths and a calm attitude. we won't go wrong for even a moment."

warm smile, and turquoise hair drapes aside. the morning suns brightness of shigure in contrast to dusks dwyer. whilst shigure relished in the warmth the daytime provides, it parallels well to tiredness apparent in his friends eyes.

it was soothing, in a sense. he was not over-amplifying his energies. he was not someone in which shigure felt exhausted by interacting with. it is no secret shigure far prefers calmer waters. "she's not my pegasus, but i had hope the two of you may form a bond ?" at that, he gets onto her back. "this is how you get onto her. i'll be present if we do take flight, so you're not. . . piloting a pegasus by yourself !"

" my father is a teacher here, isn't he ? i couldn't find him when i first arrived, " shigure allows his arms rest a moment, lowering them with a small stretch of the shoulder. " i had spent so long trying to at least get used to a yumi in hoshido to impress him. but . . . aah, it's a little tough, isn't it ? "

such was an understatement. nina was a skilled shooter, as was niles. he hadn't seen his mother do as much before, but he had no doubt she was the type to take to things quickly. slowly, he pulls the arrow from the ground, poking it into the target as if to visualise how he should aim.

until, he catches sight of him - the man of the hour ! the person he's just looking for.

but he is neat. he is diligent. shigure ensures he hangs his bow up first ( albeit, hurried ), pushing gloved hands down the bowstring to rid it of any marks. then, he inspects the arrowhead for damages, before slipping it into the ' used ' box ( pointed edge down ! ). finally, he dusts his uniform off quickly. black and gold were not really his colors, but . . .

" ah ! father, you've caught me," and so the surprise was over. as he speaks, he moves quickly towards him, sheepish look in hand. " i wanted to surprise you. really, i had worked hard to try and become decent in my aim. but . . . "

oh, what does it matter ? shigure opens his arms, and moves to hug him. "as you can see," he laughs, light and airy. "i'm not there yet."