Hand in hand, two go exploring, past the houses of those that don't live in the palace, past little open air markets and easily tucked away businesses, past an apothecary or two. And they walk on and on, eager to explore, but even more eager to be together, as if every moment was stolen, as if every moment were precious.
They'd been separated so long, by circumstances almost entirely outside of their control, that even this little escape is more than enough anticipation and joy to leave them smiling so wide, that you'd never have known that they'd ever frowned, that they'd ever let even a single tear drop coldly to the ground.
Zen's fingers are warm despite or maybe through the gloves, and Shirayuki's hands, once so nervous from all of the distance that had had to be kept, from the way that separation sometimes makes you forget the sheer joy of being in someone you love dearly's company, now though her fingers are sure in his own.
It's as if the city is open to them, belly up, ready for two people to wander with nothing to hold them back from the journey. So, they go, and they go talking, laughing as if no time ever separated them in their lives. It's as easy as breathing, once they were around each other long enough to feel the awkward nerves melt into smooth and steady companionship.
"Did you know," Shirayuki's all smiles, "how wonderfully difficult it was?" It was so, so difficult, not just the time apart that left them feeling as if they were on two different ends of the world, but rather the challenge of discovery, of pulling up your sleeves and working at your passion as days blended together, until finally you witness the fruit of your crop, the discovery enough to finally stamp an end to the never ending day that came before it, to mark a date on a calendar.
"I've heard a little about it." Zen shrugs, "But I don't know that much."
And so Shirayuki tells him, lifts up hardworking memory after memory, and they share smiles as she tries to explain just why she loved the work so much, despite how exhausting it could be, just why she thrived and thrilled over it, hour after hour. And as Zen listens, for a moment it's an understanding, a realization bigger than even the two of them.
And memories are shared like delicate daydreams, and suddenly, it's as if a pause in the road is an excuse to share even more memories, nothing held back, from the mundane routines that both of their lives contained and the long hours of excited work and the even more exciting discoveries, to the moments when he felt the most worn out from his respective job to the little joys, funny anecdotes of Mitsuhide and Kiki and what they've told to Zen over these long, several months.
And Shirayuki can't contain her smile, as wide as it goes, or the steady way she grips Zen's hand, as if forever is just around the corner, and they are still chasing it.