#v: zero

       Everyone always said, ‘mother knows best’. ‘Listen to your mother.’ ‘Be kind to your mother.’ ‘One day, you’ll grow up to be just like your mother.’ Though really... most of these were just formalities bestowed upon her by kind strangers who took note of her mother’s beauty. Anyone who’d any idea of her lineage knew she was to follow in her father’s footsteps and bring honor to the family, whereas Aoi was moreso often a vessel for producing children of great, magus blood.

    Funny how things turn out. Now that father had passed, nobody spoke much of him anymore. Mother was bound to a wheelchair, and barely conscious to most events that unfolded past that. Any words received from her elders were now scarce and limited, glances received often reduced to that of sympathy and grief, and sometimes... relief. Rin, who was now at the age of twelve, had gotten used to looking after her. She didn’t consider it to be a burden, but she knew what she felt towards her was a bit lacking for what it should have been.

                            “Mother! It’s time for dinner, and then your daily hair routine.”

         Asides from burying her little nose in ancient scriptures and magical encyclopedias, young Rin liked to enjoy her adolescence (or at least try) by wandering out of the mansion every once in a while. When one’s only four feet tall, it’d be nice to meet others the same height every once in a while! It sure beat tiptoeing around bookshelves just to find that one tome all the way at the top. Besides, Sakura was gone now. While her mind couldn’t quite grasp the severity of certain situations, she knew enough to know it was a required course of action to take, and with that, accept the idea of having one less sister and the loneliness that came with it.

               Bump. Oh. Whoops. Let’s take a few steps back so he appears less like a giraffe, and more like an adult, yes? “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. Would you be the owner of this here hedgehog?”

Iruka stated, stunned, a little offended, a fraction hurt. “…oh. I…see. Right. Well, I—” How was he supposed to respond to /that/?

"Terrible," he teased. "I’ll teach you, then. Though, you know, these things on our hands are some indication about the truth of it all, aren’t they? No matter how much I might’ve liked someone in the past, they weren’t the one. You are."

Iruka laughed, rosy-cheeked and happy. “Yes,” he said, “hitting your head tends to do that, doesn’t it? I’ll call. Or should I surprise you, some days?” He chewed on his lip, thinking, and then: “Maybe you’ll become more sure about liking me.”

"I could— stop by… Whenever you wanted. If that’s— okay. Is it…okay?"

"…you don’t really think that your dogs could call an ambulance for you, could you?" Iruka looked skeptical. He cleared his throat and said: "It’d be better if—if you had someone… around more often, don’t you think? Just in case of emergencies."