Starling

Words for a story I might never write about a woman who had such an oddly specific taste in romance she gave up on it and gave herself for her father to be wed away in an arranged marriage. The marriage was set in a year, and in that year she met the man she had dreamt upon that would fulfill all her fantasies of romance. They fell in love with each other.

However, she was a woman full of integrity and just. She kept her end of the promise to help her father and continued on with her arranged marriage despite her father breaking the deal. She had set it up again with her fiancé when he did. She married her arranged husband and although a large part of her heart still belonged to her ideal man, she cared and catered herself to her husband with the devotion and love of a woman who was deeply in love. She loved him by choice and her husband came to fall in love for her. Still, the husband knows how his wife's heart belongs to another.

This is set in pre Be Forever Yorozuya, also this is my first ever okikagu fic so it might suck but I tried so please be gentle-

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The harsh pitter-patter of raindrops smacked the cold, smooth surface of stone hedges. Each stone names of someone no longer present, all in the same calligraphy work.  In the bitter rain, a figure leaned on one of the stone hedges. Vermillion hair flattened against cold stone; sticky from having no coverage in the rain.

Splish! Splash! Footsteps echoed in the vicious downpour. Inching closer to the redhead with each step. The redhead, however, didn’t spare the sound any notoriety.

“What are you doing here? I should fine you for loitering.”

“...Go away.”

“Huh, that’s even less bite than usual. You’re going soft, China.”

Kagura glared at the older man but remained taciturn. Electing to return her focus to the stone her short hair clung to the very next second. Sougo sighed, extending his olive branch of an umbrella towards the girl. Her glare reappeared with extra vigour.

“Go away, I don’t want your charity, yes,” her voice barely coherent against the boisterous rain. Too tired, too sick, too dismal to reign grief from beginning to make itself home.

He scoffed, “Sadly, this isn’t charity, it’s part of my job.”

“But the Shinsengumi-”

“Not as a police officer.” He paused for a moment. “It was a request from Danna.”

Kagura’s eyes widened. Surprise and hope mixed into her once dull cerulean orbs, giving it a shadow of its old sparkle. She launched off the ground, clutching onto Sougo’s collar like a lifeline. The soft tingle of hope tickled the edges of her heart. “Gin-chan!? You met up with Gin-chan!? Where is he, yes!?”

Sougo stumbled back from the force, but by planting a firm foot on the pavement and realigning his centre of gravity, he stabilized his position. He sported a frown with eyebrows pinched in the middle. “Calm down, it’s not what you think. He asked me to do that on the day he disappeared, I haven't seen him since.”

Gradually her grip slackened, fingers sinking down his torso as her expression morphed into one of heartbreak; glistening eyes sealed with unshed tears and trembling lips. The sliver of hope swallowed by the cold as she plunged back into darkness.

“What,” her voice cracked, and she directed her attention to her sopping wet shoes. “What did he say?”

She could feel the pull of the fabric at her fingertips, riding up and down ever so slightly heaved by the movement of his shoulders. “He asked me to look after you when you start doing something stupid, this is probably one of them.”

Confusion was the first to make its presence known; questions bounced in her head at her guardian’s choice of person. Next was disgust, pointed at her guardian’s choice; her mortal enemy should’ve been the last person to ask for such a favour. Lastly, the undeniable warmth creeping into her heart.

“Stupid Gin-chan, as if a small Chihuahua like you can look after me, yes.” Despite her words, she couldn’t bite back the smile on her face.

“Heh, you’re finally starting to get back into character,” Sougo heckled. “You were so OOC I thought I had the wrong person.”

He continued, “Being the sappy, dramatic heroine doesn’t fit you, being a gluttonous, ugly geroine is more your class.”

“What did you say, you bastard Sadist!?”

“Huuh, are you deaf as well now? I said being a gluttonous, ugly geroine is more fitting for pigs like you!”

“I’ll fricking kill you!” Kagura sent a playful punch to Sougo’s chest; not as strong as her normal punches, but still painful enough to elicit a grunt from the blonde.

Giggling lightly, Kagura pressed her forehead where she had punched him before, subconsciously following the rise and fall of his chest. Somehow, she began to understand why Gintoki had chosen him; though it’d be a cold day in hell before she admits it.

“Thank you, stupid Sadist,” she whispered. 

Tense muscles fell lax as she slumped into Sougo’s figure who — to her surprise — didn’t sidestep to let her plummet and call her the nicknames he frequented in his list. Instead, his body tensed slightly, before sagging down against her, moulding into her form as if she had been a part of him all along. Kagura let it pass, opting on revelling in the tinge of warmth emanating from him.

She felt a puff of air brush the top of her head. A sigh, she guessed. “Didn’t I just tell you? Being a sappy, dramatic heroine doesn’t fit you.”

His chest vibrated, tugging her head along the rhythm, as a snicker passed through his mug. “Looking like an idiot is more your thing, so stop acting OOC and go back to making that stupid smile of yours.”

Heat crawled up her cheeks, dominating her entire face. Confusion, disgust, and warmth resurfacing with a new set of emotions she couldn’t label. Suddenly quelled by the frenzy of unintelligible emotions and questions invading her mind, her fist lunged for his stomach. 

“Who-Whose smile is stupid, yes!?” she shrieked.

Sougo staggered backwards. Hands clutched on his abdomen; his umbrella flung into the mud, forgotten. He groaned, “You brat, I was being nice and this is how you repay me?”

“Shut up! What part of that was nice, yes!?”

“I went out of my way to comfort an ugly pig like you and you can’t even be grateful.” He sighed, shaking his head. “How does Danna even train you?”

“What do you mean “train”, you damn Chihuahua, I’m not some animal, yes!”

“I beg the differ, Ms Piggy.”

Soon enough, they fell into a familiar cadence of battle. Insults and blows exchanged, never missing a beat in the symphony of their affray despite the unaccommodating weather. A sense of normality wormed its way into her heart. As if their planet wasn’t contaminated by a deadly virus; as if there’s no other problem in her life than the constant worry for money; as if her guardian wasn’t missing and presumed dead; as if nothing had changed at all. 

Drained, bruised, and panting, they lay on the cool cement. Embracing the fleeting cold touches showered by nature.

“Hey, Sadist,” Kagura called, her eyes glued to the grey sky above.

“What?”

“You should grow your hair out, yes.”

“Why?” his tone incredulous to the point she could feel him cock an eyebrow.

“I think it’d look good.”

Sougo gave a thoughtful “hmm”. “...Sure, why not.”

“But,” he added, “you have to grow yours too.”

Kagura chuckled. “Alright, yes.”

It was a step. Small, unconventional, useless, perhaps. Still, she was moving beyond the endless loop she wanted to trap herself in; she was moving towards the future. Little by little, she was moving on.

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Adrien needed to get out. He curled deeper into himself as the walls chased down to cage him like a determined hunter.

It was a trick of the mind, he knew. He knew his room was spacious enough to support a relatively large apartment. That it would be impossible for him to be closed in.

He knew. But his brain couldn’t process that.

Today wasn’t what Adrien would call a good day—and he certainly had better. Just thinking of it sent him into a spiral of his own thoughts.

The air in his room were lego blocks he's forced to inhale. Smothering his nostrils in full force. And was it just him or was the ground starting to sway?

“Breathe,” a voice brought him back to reality. Adrien didn’t even notice he was holding his breath.

He had to calm down. Gain his head back.

Breathe, Agreste. Just like the article said, 4 7 8. Inhale through the nose for 4. Hold it for 7. Exhale through the mouth for 8, Adrien did as so.

You’re alright, you’re okay. Just calm down and you can get out of here!

Somehow he had managed. His surroundings were clearing up. The walls didn’t look like they were about to collapse on him anymore. The air filtering through his nostrils lightened in weight.

He was fine.

“Fine” was an overstatement really. He was far from it as it is.

But in his situation and for argument’s sake, “fine” would fit in nicely.

Exhaling one last shaky breath, Adrien fixed eye contact with his furry companion and smiled.

“Thanks, Plagg. I needed that.”

The black cat rubbed his cheek against his chosen’s. Not for long though. Despite appearances, Plagg had a reputation to keep. He couldn’t let Tikki make fun of him!

Plagg did loops in the air before favouring a spot in front of his chosen. His flipper like hands poised on his waist and a sly smirk played on his lips.

“So, you ready to break out of this place?”

Adrien mirrored his smirk with a fresh new glint in his eyes, “Plagg, claws out!”

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Life had been considerably unpredictable for Marinette. With her secret life as a superhero and the sudden debut of a supposed supervillain—or magical terrorist with the ability to grant people magical powers through the aid of butterflies, Marinette had thought that she was beginning to gain the capability to be unfazed by the unexpected. That with all the bizzare events in her life she became acquainted with it.

Apparently she was wrong.

Never had she expected for a certain cat—or perhaps Chat to be perched on her veranda. It rattled her at first. Chat’s last visit had been... interesting, to put it nicely. It wasn’t his fault per se, nevertheless the escalating events left a bad taste in her father regarding the cat themed hero. The bad blood died down, but finding the very person that broke your daughter’s heart on your balcony would certainly summon a very irresistible impulse to jettison him; and Marinette really didn’t want to explain to Paris why one of their heroes managed to become roadkill near her bakery (the suit would probably protect him, but Marinette did not want to take that chance).

That put aside, Marinette shuffled under her sole protector from peering—or in this case, Chat Noir’s eyes. A hand stationed at her trapdoor as her eyes spied on her partner.

His back faced her as he surveyed the city; his cat ears were flat on his tousled gold locks while he hummed a song Marinette became familliar with as “Little Cat on The Roof”. Her lips twitched into a knowing frown.

Being partners for so long they were bound to notice habits the other owned. At the moment, it was Chat’s occasional croons. Marinette recognised the song as Chat's solace. A safe haven achieved by focusing on the assortment of melodies the song offered. She came to the conclusion that her kitty was distressed; presumably due to family circumstances.

Marinette weighted her odds. It didn’t seem like Chat had noticed her yet—which was good. She hadn’t known what action to take. On the one hand, it would be wise to not nose around and let him solve it in his own time. But on the other hand, seeing him lack his usual jubilant and bright attitude sent a jab to her heart.

She wanted to help. To be of service to him like the terrible jokes and over the top shenanigans he did for her. No matter how stubborn she was to clung to her sour mood, he would do almost everything that came to mind to alleviate her spirits. She wanted to do the same for him.

“Marinette?”

The mentioned girl tensed before sighing internally. She knew she was bound to be spotted (HA!) somehow, though she did wish it would be from her own volition rather than a slip aided by Chat’s observation skills. Marinette didn’t loiter on that thought longer and pulled herself up. Red bloomed on her cheeks as the crisp autumn air caressed her skin while embarrassment added an even darker shade of red.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to spy,” she found great interest in the floor as her fingers busied themselves by connecting and disconnecting themselves, stealing peeks as she did.

She expected, hoped, for him to take the chance to chaff her of having an infatuation on him or alleging her of being stunted by his self-proclaimed dashing looks (Marinette has thrown herself into a spiral of denial), albeit begrudgingly. She had, because if he did—there lied a glimmer of hope that it would be easier to buoy her partner. Chat, however, had other plans in mind.

Chat offered her a smile. Impeccably centered and hollow like a well crafted porcelain doll, “It’s okay, it was rude of me to steal your balcony.”

Internally Marinette cringed at the sight. Her stomach wrapped itself in knots of discomfort. It reminded her of the smile Adrien would plaster whenever Chloe or Lila claimed possession of him. That night Marinette vowed that she would never let that smile abide on either boys ever again.

“It’s all right,” she spoke as her feet planted herself next to him.

A pregnant pause held them hostage. Both fearful of breaking the fragile semblance of peace between them despite the mutually felt inquietude.

“So,” Marinette threaded with rightfully earned prudence. Voice soft and light like footsteps on thin ice.

“...So...”

“I have some croissants.”

Finally a piece of her kitty came to light in the form of a grin on his lips and a glint in his eyes.

“You would indulge this poor stray to the finest pastries in the world? Truly, you are the most a-meow-zing purr-incess in the world!”

Marinette fought the giggle bubbling in her throat with no success before sending him a playful glare coupled by a smirk that flourished nothing but friskiness, “Careful now, those awful puns might just cost you.”

Chat’s hand sought his heart above the magical leather suit as an overly inflated gasp found freedom from his peach pink lips.

“How could you Purr-incess! My puns are widely ad-mew-tted to be fur-ry paw-esome,” he retaliated, voice brimmed with feigned smugness.

Snacks and chagrins were soon forgotten as they fell into an easy rhythm of banter. Jabs aimed to Chat’s puns would immediately be reciprocated with a flimsy defense along with an additional pun. Each one personally designed to perturb her further into submission. But despite it, Marinette couldn’t brush away the warmth buzzing through her entire body as they went back and forth. The once brisk air nipping at her skin replaced by a fervour akin to a hug from a dear friend.

After a particularly long laughter from both parties as Chat had finally managed to delivered a humorous pun - “EXCUSE mew Purr-incess, my puns are always funny!” - they settled in another lapse of silence. Consisted of feather lightness and melodic sweetness.

The city was exceptionally beautiful, they had agreed. Perhaps it was due to the occurrence of a full moon, offering the city a better lighting to its beauty; perhaps it was the fiery orange lining the streets with its playful gradient; or perhaps the most immediately discarded thought in their heads, the company they had.

It was a territory they never dared to venture. A land littered with minefields yet to be discovered, yet to explode with much more uncertainty and a set of emotions they were far too fearful to label. Because trying to label the unknown might shatter the bits of understanding of their emotions they barely possessed. Putting the hesitantly glued pieces into shambles; and as a teenager finding their place in the world, it was a risk they were walking eggshells on.

Neither allowed themselves to loiter on the thought longer than a second.

“I, I should get going.” Perhaps it was her imagination, perhaps it was reality how Chat’s ears drooped as he spoke.

“Uh, yeah, it's getting late...”

Chat took the initiative to climb the rails of her balcony, hunched and ready to set off. Baton in hand and his leather-covered thumb hovering over the button to extend it the moment he leaps.

Swivelling his head to face the pig-tailed girl, he gave her a smile, genuine and sincere. “Thanks Marinette, I’ll see you next time.”

For reasons unkown to Marinette herself, a giggle burst forth from her throat. Tickling the air around them with her bubbly laughter. All at once, the air felt warmer to Chat Noir.

“Sure thing, you silly cat.”

Marinette had expected for Chat Noir to make his way. However, still he was in his previous position, unmoving. Marinette was one breath away from uttering her worries when Chat Noir’s voice cut through the air in slight whispers timid and uncharacteristic.

“Can I,” he paused for a minute, but persevered nonetheless, “can I come here again?”

The question sounded child-like in Marinette’s ears. Like a shy little kid trying to make friends while shouldering a large fear of rejection. He sounded so small, so vulnerable.

Marinette took a breath to ease the tenseness she felt from Chat’s question. She needed to deliver an answer appropriate from her words down to her tone in order to fully put Chat at ease.

Gentle and fluffy, sweeter than all the candies in the world with a tone of loveliness, she spoke. “You’re always welcomed here, Chat.”

A weight could visibly be seen lifted off Chat’s shoulders. Shoulders once guarded and fearful of rejection came to relax for the first time that night. With a nod, Chat finally made his way back to his house.

The journey was something he didn’t desire, but he can’t impose Marinette with his overdue stay. At the very least, he came back with a new feeling better than anything he had in a long time. A feeling of warmth buzzing in his heart. Perhaps, he’s finally starting to remember the feeling of home again.

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HAHAHAHA SO-

I uh, I forgot about this thing’s existence and neglected it for 2 years...

Zelda was strolling through a small forest a little outside of Castletown; embraced by the sweet air nipping at her skin. She had taken the chance of her knight attendant’s absence to enjoy this moment of solitude. Perhaps she had finally been acquainted to her knight attendant and was treading on friendly terms, but once in a while she missed the feeling of solitude when often times so many eyes were on her with expectations. Of course, she didn’t think of her knight attendant as one of them, but she never really could feel at peace with that thought.

The slight rumble of her tummy brought her out of her intense research on the flowers swaying powerlessly at the mercy of the wind. She considered returning to the castle, but she didn’t want to let her peace escape her fingertips just yet. With that in mind she decided to search for some berries or fruits to satiate her hunger, even if it was just temporarily. It didn’t take long for her to discover a delectable scarlet fruit dangling on a thin branch.

Her relatively small hands took hostage the lowest and second lowest branches to propel herself higher with the help of her legs. Branch by branch she rose, until finally she reached the desire of her rumbling stomach. With one arm outstretched and the other encircling the nearest branch, she tried to reach the bright red apple. Zelda’s brows furrowed in focus, legs forced to push herself further. The literal apple of her eye was before her just a few inches away. Bit by bit she began to release her grip on the branch in order to go further. Finally, with only her hand holding onto the branch, she managed to capture the desire of her heart.

A feeling of accomplishment flooded her chest and a warm buzz snaked its way to her. In the slight instance her tense muscles relaxed, she was left careening down with little to no less registration and nothing to catch herself with. Her eyes clenched in preparation as her arms shielded her face the best it could.

Zelda felt her body collide with something. Too tense and well-structured to be a convenient bush nearby; too soft and comforting to be the ground she had her feet planted on minutes ago. She shifted her arms to create a gap and peeked through. Before her was… an almost indescribable figure with the head of what seemed to be an ancient entity and the body of a normal – slightly well-built – human. He was fashioned in a simple cream hylian tunic paired along with a pair of basil green shorts. The mask – she decided to assume – the person wore was one that would fascinate her if she weren’t so befuddled with its existence.

“Thank- thank you, can you, please put me down?” Silently the figure complied, gently placing her leaned onto the base of the tree.

On the ground, Zelda grasped at the chance to take the mask her saviour wore under deeper scrutiny. It was shaped similar to a heart as the base with spikes sprouting from it, two on top and four others on each of its lower sides. Each horn goldish-yellow with a smudge of different colour on every one, twinning only with its neighbour across. The heart was a mix of several colours; much of its higher part is coloured a royal purple and the rest of it mostly a crimson red, lined with intricate and ancient designs of various colours. Lastly, the most nerving feature of said mask was the pair of parakeet eyes boring at her with its flame coloured sclera.

The time she took letting her curiosity feast upon its new interest distracted her from the hand drawn towards her with the goal of her little journey and near pain resting comfortably on it. She voiced her gratitude before releasing her saviour from his small additional burden. Her stomach yearned for her to the very least have a nibble at the scarlet fruit, but her mind was keen and too well-trained in mannerism to allow herself to display such rudeness. Instead she merely placed the fruit on her lap and endeavoured to strike a conversation with her saviour. Perhaps even inquire him of the origins of his mask.

“Would, you like to sit down?” Zelda gestured towards the space beside her.

The figure remained silent – contemplating her offer, perhaps – before giving her a nod and shuffling towards her; settling down, nuzzled by the lush greenery with a respectful distance between them. They rested under the graceful shade of the vigorous tree, silence enveloping them in an awkward, yet somehow comfortable ambience. Zelda toyed with her apple, rolling and rubbing it whilst her mind travelled far and wide for a solution to broach the subject of said mask.

It was then that she came to a sudden awareness of her discourtesy, “Uhm, if I’m not too bold, would you mind as to give me your name?”

A pregnant pause followed her question and Zelda had nothing else to do, but be in the mercy of the mask’s vacant stare. Frankly, the stare of the mask’s eyes sent a chill crawling through her spine. It wasn’t quite simply due to its horrendous design itself; there was something else deep within her that squeezed and twisted her heart each time it was directed towards her. It was as if those same pair of eyes had stared into her very soul and–

“Do…,” his voice pierced through her train of thought, “Do you not recognise me?”

His voice was hoarse and brimmed with much hesitance, as if one mistake would cost him his life. Is her title that intimidating? was the question she tucked under her tongue. However, there was also a sense of familiarity in his voice that Zelda recognised despite the assurance she had that the voice was one she was not entirely familiar with. Perhaps it's caused by the mask, she reasoned.

“My apologies, but I do not seem to recall ever meeting someone with such a mask.”

“Mask…?” his hand shot up to the aforementioned cover. Frantically, patting away on it with something that Zelda could only deduce as sudden realisation.

A giggle threatened to burst free from her throat. For one to not realise they were wearing a mask of that size was more humorous than it was befuddling for her. Despite her pressing urge to unleash the flurry of giggles threatening to escape, the princess held her poise and regally coughed her laughter away to the side before offering her pardons.

“Pardon me, Princess,” the figure spoke, straightening himself up. His hands reached towards the mask, fiddling with the strings attached until it freed its grip from his head.

Streams of auburn hair peeked through as the mask started to unravel. A familiar shade, Zelda noted. The process unfolded in slow-motion before her eyes and a mixture of feelings was unleashed upon her in realisation. Afore her stood her knight attendant – in casual clothing, her mind supplied.

“Link?! Y-you–!” her eyes were wide as dinner plates; the finger that once toyed with her fruit was solely focused on pointing aim at Link’s figure as her body arched back by a few inches; her other hand supporting her weight and her apple rolling away, forgotten.

Link offered her no other response than a respectful bow on his knee. They remained in silence. Link unwavering in his position and Zelda taking the time to regain her lost grace and composure. Exhaling deeply, Zelda huffed before returning to her once more refined conduct.

“Link, you may rise.” The hero did as such, his body looming over her and casting another shade over her form. He stood with the squared shoulders of a well-groomed soldier. Ever so dutiful, always on guard.

“Please, sit down.” Again, the hero complied. Placing himself a tad farther than he was before, expanding the gap between them.

Zelda watched him with the intensity of a researcher, her eyes boring at him in hopes to receive – at the bitter least – some scraps of information. Alas, her knight was ever stoic in his countenances. However, other than his sapphire tunic, which she had crafted for him, she felt something else to be amiss in his appearance. Her eyes scanned him like a well-oiled machine. Determined to satisfy the mystery her mind had provided.

Then, it hit her. “Where is your sword?”

“With the Great Deku Tree. For safety,” his gaze was locked over his shoulder, where the Master Sword would usually reside. Faded grey clouds covering his brilliant sapphire eyes.

“Why didn’t you take it with you to your home town?”

Link shrugged, facing her once more, “Didn’t think I’d need it.” Didn’t want the attention, were the words that lingered in the air despite never leaving his lips.

Zelda hummed. The words that were left hovering in the air between them was something she understood well. After the day he had poured a piece of his heart to her in the small moments of vulnerability they shared behind prying eyes, she started to see the similarities between them. The hero she had berated so much was a lot like her in many ways, including his fears. The weights abruptly placed upon his shoulders were the same as hers after all.

Funny, however, she managed to receive warning. She had known her destiny since birth. It was her birth right; her legacy. She knew of what’s to come. Link, on the other hand, never had such privilege. His destiny caved upon him like a sudden boulder spat by Death Mountain himself, and even that had more apprise than what Link had received.

“That mask, might I ask where you got it?”

Link opened his mouth to speak, before his teeth met and his mouth clamed shut. But again he tried, his voice smaller than usual, “I found it in the storage of my home.”

Zelda quirked a brow. Her knight never sounded so timid; even when he spilled his deepest fears and held his heart boldly upon his sleeve, his voice held the integrity and force of a well-deserved captain. Zelda took it as cue to let her questions rest in the back of her head and deprive her curiosity of satisfaction.

“I see.”

Again they fell in silence. A silence that occurred many times before she had come to terms with him, uneasy and out of place. Zelda shifted her attention to the leaves loyally shading them from the scorching sun's glare. Drinking up every detail she could until she halted at a particular leaf.

The tips of it were shifting in colour and becoming out of sync with the rest of the flock. Summer was coming to a closure and autumn had begun to announce its arrival. It meant that the harvest crops were going to change, her meals would also shift into something more supported by the weather, and that time was passing by her fingertips as Ganon's awakening marched closer.

The thought sent shivers crawling up and down her spine. Her prayers had yielded no progress and fruited nothing but disappointment in her father's gaze. No matter what she did, she felt no power coursing through her veins; no voice in her head; and absolutely nothing other than the freezing chill that stubbornly clung onto her courtesy of the springs' waters.

But what else could she do? She had scoured every theory, practiced every method, spent hours on end standing in icy waters praying to a goddess who turned a deaf ear no matter what she did. There were no longer any cards or tricks she could even fathom to try. All she could do was pray. Pray to a statue who smiled to her in indifference to her pain.

A hand came a few inches to her face during her time staring at space. In the hand was her hard-earned fruit whom she had forgotten in the moment. She directed herself to her knight; his hand tentatively awaiting her response and a miniscule smile that whispered a thousand encouragements, more than anyone had ever given her. Her heart forgot its normal tempo.

Zelda exhaled; all of her frustration, stress, anxiety, fear, and self-deprecation in one swift breath. The other breath was her gratitude towards her companion and a smile, soft and private touched her lips as she brushed her hand against his and retrieve her appointed snack.

In this moment, there were only the two of them. No darkness sealing sword, no endless search of power, no weight forced upon their shoulders. In this moment, it was just her and her friend. In this moment, she could sit under the shade and enjoy the fruit she had rightfully earned and just breathe. In that moment, she took a bite.

It tasted sweet.

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Okay, so... this took an unexpected turn. I actually started this about a few weeks ago and after that I only continued it about a few days ago so it's probably confusing bc I forgot what I planned to go with this. So if you're confused it's alright! Bc I too am lol. But I posted it still bc after rereading it I think it would still make sense? So here it is.