#gluehen

“That should be the last of them...” Mushia slung the mallet after nailing down the final spikes she had planned to plant. Another to the west and then one more between the points to complete the symbol. Time to go back to her residence and begin carving again. To much of this blasted sunlight and her delicate skin would start to red anyway. Now just to hope that her servant brought her back the right type of stone. Turning to leave in the direction of the sunset, Mushia was slightly taken aback to learn she was being watched. 

“Ha, have you never seen royalty before?” She could feel her cheeks glow a little at their stare. Thoughts of to what extent the stranger had been privy to her planning were pushed aside. Thankfully she was able to break eye contact for a second to snap the sleeves of her dress into her arms and turn away from then indignantly.

When she arrives, she stands just outside the apartment, shaky hands clenching the key so hard that metal begins to bite into skin. Fighting the torrent of panicked tears that pricked at her eyes was an uphill battle, one that had her sniffling the entire way through. After what feels like an eon, she finally works up the nerve to turn the key in it’s lock, pushing her way inside.

The figure in the middle of the room seems enormous, presence filling empty space in it’s entirety. That alone is enough to make her pause, stomach twisting - a bundle of nerves. Using the door as a shield, she hesitates at the threshold, head peeking from around it.

“Um, I’m sorry, excuse me..! A...are you my...?” Her sentence trails off, leaving the obvious unspoken. ‘Servant’. Whatever that was supposed to mean!

Upon spotting a human in armor, Tohru’s body tensed up. She had spotted some here and there, but it was finally starting to sink in. She could take him easily on her own, but... If there were that many humans, and humans from her world... they could band together as they had in the past. Maybe that’s really why she was brought here? 

“You’re the type of person I’d like Seto to look up to. A brave, selfless hero that could provide him the hope he needs to survive in a world like this.”

回 = patching a wound .

“... I’m really very sorry.” How many times had she apologized now? It hardly felt like enough. The injury wasn’t severe; nothing that would prove more than a minor inconvenience in the future. But it was a slip-up that could have been avoided, an error in her judgement. A weak master who had to depend on a servant that wasn’t her own. 

Some non-believers might say taking a portable easel and stool with you wherever you went was too far, but those people clearly weren’t familiar with inspiration. Not like her, one who wouldn’t dream of delaying design the moment it came to her, never mind resisting it. 

Few things could distract her once she’d started no matter where it was, even a supermarket. Few things, except the familiar combination of a shock of red hair, purposeful stride and measurements she’d never forget.

“Ah! No way, Percival!”

The first familiar face she’d seen was certainly a relief, but that only raised more questions.