Chapter Eleven: Opportunist
Three spills, two callouts, five no-tippers, two homeless drifters, one Karen.
Such was the mundane shenanigans in the daily life of a lowly foodservice drone. The once buzzing Volumen filled with fuzzy remnants of rowdy customers and the maniacal tapping of the bar mistress, Sola-Ui's kitten heeled foot.
With a sharp snap of her fingers, she commanded her small army of ragged and war-torn soldiers into a straight line in front of her steely gaze. Her husband stood beside her with a sullen expression with the same unforgiving eyes. Their stiffness made Diarmuid uneasy, but others utterly frozen in fear.
"Have you all finished cleaning? If you haven't, I suggest that you speed things up next time or begin looking for employment elsewhere. However, we have some announcements and we require your attention so listen first." Kayneth's snooty tones came through his employees' ears like nails on a chalkboard.
Sola-Ui waved her husband off, who only gave a disapproving glare.
"Don't be like that Kayneth. They are all good workers, especially our fine manager, Diarmuid. He took on two shifts today, you know!" Cú, who was standing next to an overly stiff Diarmuid, elbowed him with a snarky smirk. The others just pretended to ignore the unsubtle purrs of affection.
Kayneth fake-coughed to redirect his wife's attention to something that wasn't his (one-sided) love rival.
God, watching this couple is just embarrassing. Was the thought their employees had in their mind at the time. How much longer would this farce go on for? They just wanted to go home and sleep goddammit!
"First off, good job to everyone in handling the Christmas rush last week. We expect the same level of customer care and quality food service going into New Year's Eve." she paused for dramatic effect.
"That being said, however, anyone caught slacking and not actively furthering our customer experience will be promptly fired, no questions asked. We tolerate the average, but we will reward those who take initiative. Additional staff who would like to come in and work New Year's Eve may do so with prior approval. Of course, we will compensate you well for extra hours worked, but your focus should be on the experience, not the pay." the bar mistress and master smiled with the same self-satisfaction as if they had just given street beggars a half-eaten takeout box.
Diarmuid's mind see-sawed back and forth between his options but was unable to come to a conclusion. Most of him wanted to work the evening like he had in previous years, but another part of him was hoping for something to happen. A sudden change of plans or an irresistible offer, anything along those lines to make him not feel the pressure to work one night and continue rolling through the cogwheels of adult life.
"That is all. Close the shop properly, will you?" The Archibald couple skittered off, quickly disappearing from the view of their exhausted employees, some of which also began filtering out, leaving only Cú and Diarmuid in the now-dark bar.
"I always get a mix of discomfort and irritation whenever they breathe." Cú grumbled as his friend set the alarm and locked up, stepping into the snowy streets glittering with ice and fluorescent lights.
"Heh, that extreme?"
"You're probably fine with it 'cuz Sola got the hots for you man. You get away with too much." Cú snickered as they walked through the crunching snow.
"I don't get away with that much." Diarmuid retorted, but Cú was half-right. He was well-aware of Sola-Ui's feelings towards him, but he believed firmly in keeping work and private matters separate. That, coupled with his frank lack of interest in her, kept anything from advancing further.
Plus, in the past, he had Gráinne as his excuse, but the sentiment remains, nonetheless.
"Uh-huh. Riiight." His friend dead-panned, unbelieving of every word he said.
Fluttering snow began a gentle descent from heaven, grazing Diarmuid's outstretched palm before melting with his warmth.
His hands were full of life, yet they held nothing. Transient bits were always within reach, but always fell through the cracks of his outstretched fingers.
When he woke up that morning to find Arturia breathing soundly across the coffee table, hand still clasping his. A number of, let's say embarrassing, simulations ran through his mind before finally remembering his drunken antics.
As expected, his back and head hurt like hell, with the pain carrying forward through his shifts. Unexpectedly though, he did not regret his actions, save for his hangover.
"God, I really need to lay off booze…" was his first cognizant thought of the day.
She was still sleeping when he was heading out the door, but he carried her into bed to save her back a little. Of course, nothing else happened and he quickly left his apartment without skipping a beat.
He must have stared blankly at the air for quite a bit, because Cú resorted to wildly waving his hand in his face to pull him out of his thoughts.
"Hey! Earth to Dia! Don't know what snow looks like? How long have you lived here?" Cú prodded his friend. Diarmuid just turned to him with a serious expression painted on his face.
"What's the name of the feeling where you always want to be beside someone, hold their hand, and support them?" Diarmuid asked, ignoring Cú's previous questions.
The blue-haired man's ruby eyes narrowed in confusion as he processed his friend's enigmatic and rather sudden question.
"Uh, maternal instinct? I guess."
"Maternal instinct?" Diarmuid processed that for a moment. Maybe that was the case, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized his feelings longed for acceptance; it was not familial, but rather intimate.
"Why?" Cú asked in curiosity.
"Eh, just thought of it." Diarmuid resumed staring at the falling snow and his old friend's cobalt eyebrow raised in suspicion.
"Are you talking about the blondie?"
"She has a name, Cú, and what's it to you if I am referring to her?"
"You guys were so touchy-feely on hot-pot night, I almost thought you two would kiss on the spot." Cú chuckled and Diarmuid rolled his eyes.
"Uh huh, no. I was asleep for half the time anyways, so I assure you nothing happened."
A smirk spread across Cú's face, his sharp canine protruding cheekily. He could think of a few things, but he preferred to let his friend's gentle, maidenly heart rest a bit, for now at least.
"Whatever you say Mr. "We're Just Roommates". I'm heading to Emiya's anyways, so no more questions for tonight." the blue-haired Irishman pointed in the opposite direction of Diarmuid's route.
"Hm? What about his brother? Even if it's you, Shirou probably wouldn't want a late-night guest."
"That kid moved out a while back for school, so Emiya's got the spot all to himself now. I'd call it a win because now he doesn't have to fight for kitchen space, and I can come and go whenever."
"So, what's he got on the menu today then? Cuddles for two? Mackerel and make-out à la mode?" Diarmuid's expression twisted gleefully. Now it was his turn to poke fun.
"We're having midnight sushi, thank you very much." Cú grumbled but smirked slyly.
"Nantaimori-style?"
"Fuck off! And how the fuck do you even know what that is?! What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Let's just say night-shift Emiya is talkative Emiya. Don't mind me. Just paying you back for earlier." Cú oldest friend whistled innocently, but he just let his middle finger do the talking as the two parted ways.
The rest of the chilly walk back, Diarmuid's mind drifted from one place to another, but he always returned to Arturia.
They're roommates, but she existed in a unique space within him. Dancing awkwardly around his feelings, it was too frivolous to call this feeling love. After all, when he was with Gráinne, it never felt this…free.
Feel normal. Stay normal. Be normal. Conform. His life has been one wrong turn after another, so this is how he should be.
That was what he always kept telling himself in the past; be one for others. Live by the standard and surely, one day he will finally glimpse into his own soul to see a life well lived.
The moment when he grabbed her hand, when he abandoned his studies, when he traveled thousands of miles to reset his life, what was the meaning of it all? He may have begun anew, but those he left behind on the emerald shores marched on. Five years may be enough time for those he hurt to forget him, but it certainly was not enough to forgive him.
It's not that he was still hung over Gráinne. Or was he? There were no lingering feelings; no regrets, frustration, or even empathy. Just a hole.
This hole, in the Irishman's inner psyche, is filled to the brim with nothing. The beautiful demon that squeezed his heart guarded that hole, but for now, he could ignore the pain.
No, actually, it would be better to say that the pain was lessening, because she was in his life now. An unbelievable soul he felt unworthy of knowing but continued to reach out into his world and color it in her hue.
Augh! What was he doing thinking about her like this though? She's just a friend! She's just his roommate! She. Is. Just. His. Friend.
"I'm home."
The door creaked open to reveal an apartment that was dark, save for a small lamplight in the living room where Arturia was immersed in her book. Upon hearing the door open and close, she perked up to see her bundled-up roommate.
"Hey, welcome home."
"You're not asleep yet?" Diarmuid began peeling his muffler and thick coat from his body, small snaps of static permeating the air with the twists of wool coming undone.
"I guess I got too into reading and lost track of time." She got up and walked towards her roommate.
"Oh, what's the book you're reading?"
"Just some romance novel. To be honest, it's not even that good, but it's got me hooked for some reason."
"Hm. Maybe I'll read it some-ah!" Diarmuid eyebrows raised in surprise as Arturia's hands cupped his cheeks and started rubbing them as she pleased. The sudden feeling of warmth rushed through his body.
"Wh-wah ah you…?" his words came out airily as she continued gently massaging his pink cheeks.
"My guardian always did this to me when my cheeks were flushed from the cold. Keeps the muscles limber, so I'm told. You must take care of yourself more." She stated matter-of-factly.
"O-oh?" was all Diarmuid managed to say.
"Maternal instinct…maybe?" he thought, recalling his earlier conversation with Cú, "But wait, wouldn't that make us both the mother?"
Small interactions like these closed the gap between the two these last few months. Caring for one another, and receiving such care, neither of them have been spoiled like this before. However, Diarmuid did not want to name this feeling. He did not want it to exist.
"It can't be love. I don't want it to be love."
"Alright, all done!" she released his cheeks and waited for his reply, green orbs glittering with happiness at a job well done.
"Thank you. It does feel better now. I'm getting some tea before crashing, you want some too?"
"No, that's alright. Thank you though—and oh!" Diarmuid turned to face his roommate, who was now the reddening one.
"Just wanted to thank you for this morning. For taking me back to bed, I mean. I was not thinking when I decided to sleep on the floor, so I must have caused you some trouble." She sheepishly apologized.
Diarmuid smiled, "Don't think anything of it. It's unfitting for a young woman to be uncomfortable like that, so my honor wouldn't allow it."
"You're too proper."
"As are you, Ms. Pendragon."
"It's just Arturia, remember? Oh, and before I forget…" She pulled out a small envelope and handed it to her honorable roommate.
"Chaldea is hosting a New Year's party and we can invite a guest, so I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?"
Diarmuid took the envelope hesitantly, fingers grazing the textured envelope, looking over it without opening it.
"Are you sure you'd like to ask me? I'm sure you have other friends awaiting an invitation."
"You're the first and only one I want to invite. I want to thank you for, well, everything these last few months. As your friend, this is the least I could do. Of course, if you can't or don't want to go, I will not force you of course. I'll just think of another way to thank you."
Diarmuid pondered the idea for a moment, "There's no need to thank me, but if you insist as a friend, I have no reason to refuse."
His irresistible offer. This was it.
Arturia, who was holding her breath in anticipation this entire time, let out a relieved sigh, "I'll put down a yes, then. Well then, goodnight Diarmuid. Please get some rest." She disappeared into her room and shut the door behind her.
"Good night." Diarmuid grabbed his tea and also disappeared into his room.
Neither of them mentioned the hand-holding incident, but it was clear in their minds they wanted to bring it up. Their pride and honor got in the way. They were no longer children, after all; it would seem childish to fret over a simple touch. Accidents happen. Things are better left unsaid.
"Dia look! It's the ocean. I've never seen it so close up before. It's beautiful."
"Well, that's why we're here. To see everything, we couldn't in Fianna. Together."
"Dia!"
"Hm?"
A beautiful demon's fluttering voice echoed in his heart that night. It splashed in the depths of his soul, ebbing and flowing with the sea.
The dance of two lives reborn began on sandy shores.
"I love you so much."
"Yes, I know."
"I love you. Please never forget that you are my everything."
"I won't."