The cast was on vacation and so was I.
Beta: Zaru
There was a tension in the air, like an electric current.
The hustle and bustle of the Hidden Village carried with it a subtly building sense of excitement, as if the village was set to erupt at any moment.
It reminded him of the morning of Operation Twin-Headed Snake in a way, and it made Haruhiro antsy just like the raid had, but…
In a good way, since that 'eruption' was leading to a celebration and not a bloodbath.
The solstice festival would be the first festival he'd experienced in memory, and the company he'd be spending it in showed just how much his luck had improved since waking up in that tower.
No, even before that- it wasn't as if his memories were any clearer than they usually were, but Haruhiro was convinced that his life had never been better, regardless of which world he was living in.
… Not even the fact that he'd had just a bit of a headache for almost three days could put a damper in things.
It was a strange sensation- uncomfortable but not painful, even though it probably should have been.
It felt kind of like his forehead was slowly and gently splitting open, right down the middle.
It was strange.
Completely bizarre.
The party was separated… but in a good way?
… Well, Rachnera supposed it wasn't that strange for things to seem different- the last time they'd all really been 'separated' they were being hunted by starving monsters.
Much more stressful than helping out with festival preparations.
Even if her portion of the preparations were 'normal' for her- making clothes- that it was something she was doing 'for a special occasion' was new to her.
That she had company, her Jorogumo kindred, was new as well.
… As was 'a special occasion'.
…
… No, that wasn't quite right.
Rachnera's life had been full of almost nothing but special occasions from the moment she'd rescued a wounded human in a dark cave.
Now wasn't that something?
Manual labor that didn't heavily involve bloodshed was a welcome change of pace for Centorea.
Despite being a member of the fighting nobility, it wasn't exactly a new experience for her, either- Mother had always been firm in the idea that as they were in no way above those under their protection, there was no shame with getting their hands dirty when extra hands were required.
Centorea hadn't needed much in the way of convincing, even from an early age- she had always been fit and strong, and had always enjoyed helping others.
Tio was much the same, and that was why they had offered their services in setting up various stalls and stages for the festival to come.
Neither of them were anything approaching craftsmen, but with a week-long festival involving the entire village, there was plenty of heavy lifting to be done where a few extra sets of strong limbs would not go amiss.
She'd gotten herself involved in preparations for similar festivals hosted within her own home- there was something inherently satisfying about being a part of the process of transforming one's surroundings from the mundane to the festive.
It was a nostalgic experience.
Now… if only that 'nostalgia' was as pleasant for everyone as it was for her.
Seated on the ledge of a low wall, Tio set down the little wooden plate with a sigh that didn't really reflect how tasty that 'onigiri' stuff the nice old lady had given her for lunch.
Helping all the nice people set up for the festival was fun.
It was super fun.
… But in a kinda sad way, because in what seemed a little like another lifetime, Tio had used to do this kind of stuff all the time.
When she was just an orphan in the temple, and later when she began her training in earnest, Tio had been a helper for the multiple celebrations common across the whole island, through the year. The equinoxes and solstices were the predictable ones, but the Great Mother presided over weddings and many other joyous celebrations, and so Tio was pretty sure at least half her training had amounted to party prep.
It had been so much fun.
… And she'd never help with or even attend another festival in her homeland, not ever again.
Naturally, that wasn't the fault of anyone here, so Tio was trying her best not to put a damper on things, but it was hard.
… No one had ever taught her how to deal with being homesick.
And being homesick made her feel a little bad in a different way, because most of her friends didn't even have a home to miss in the first place!
'Course, she knew she was being silly and she knew they would never get mad at her for something like that, but… but…
Feelings were dumb sometimes.
Absorbed in her internal grumblings as she was, Tio didn't hear the measured 'click clack' of hoof against cobblestone until the source of the sound had arranged herself side-long behind her perch.
Well, even if she had been paying more attention she might have missed it- there was plenty of background noise, and Cerea seemed to keep getting sneakier.
Tio's theory was that it was an after effect of following Haru around everywhere- Cerea wasn't really all that loud (well, unless she was feeling dramatic), but anyone would feel loud next to someone who had to make an effort to be noisy.
Cerea's flank lightly pressed against her back in a silent gesture of friendliness, but neither of them said anything at first as Tio leaned back slightly against her and gave another quiet, drawn out little sigh.
Somehow, she knew without looking that she hadn't managed to hide her lousy mood from her fellow blonde.
"Would you like to talk about it?" Came the gentle question.
"No… not really." Tio admitted. "I just need a little time to get over it."
"Very well." Cerea answered lightly, in that same soft tone.
Tio heard the unspoken question there, just like Centorea had picked up on the words that she hadn't said, waiting patiently as the Ogress twiddled her thumbs.
"But umm… could you stay with me for a little bit?"
Tio thought it was funny how you could hear someone's smile, if you knew them well enough.
"As long as you need."
Iormu said that time could heal almost anything, if you had enough of it.
… And that time did its work much faster if you had the right company.
It was nice to see her proven right.
It was nice to see herself proven right.
The first of her 'younger kindred' that Iormu had encountered in well over three hundred years, and, just as expected…
That darling Sayaka was simply adorable.
A truly lovely young host whether one spoke of appearance or mannerisms, possessed of the humble sort of wonder towards the deeper mysteries of the world that could not be feigned.
Many did not truly understand that the magic of the world truly was of the world, or that one who loved the world would surely find that the world loved them back.
It was endlessly fascinating to watch how the girl never failed to return the gratitude and affection she wasn't truly aware of being offered.
Sayaka reminded her of Tio in that way- though one shone like the subtle moon and the other the brilliant sun, their lights were equally worthy of being cherished.
Naturally, Tio was not the only shining soul among their little family, though of them, regrettably, only Centorea was truly comfortable with who she was.
It was a sad truth that troubled her constantly, but nothing unfamiliar to her, either- such was the nature of the mortal races that few were born aware of their own value.
But they were learning, day by day, and so Iormu would do her own part, as the river that would reflect their light back at them, until they recognized it as their own.
So she would do for the women in their little party.
As for the sole man, well…
Haruhiro had no light, and while she suspected that had something to do with young Sayaka's trepidation at his presence, Iormu did not believe it to be a flaw on Haruhiro's part.
Because Haruhiro was the darkness.
The gentle resting place of both sun and moon… a place where even the deepest waters could find solace.
Even when she had been all alone in the depths of the earth, it had not felt like he brought her light.
He had simply proved that the shadows need not be empty.
And so one day, surely, he would be prepared to accept all of her.
One day, surely…
"Ano… pardon the interruption, Iormu-sama, but if you are feeling tired, w-would you perhaps like to rest a while?" A soft voice hesitantly made itself heard.
"Hm? Ah, pardon me, Sayaka, it seems my thoughts have drifted a bit too far," Iormu apologized, chiding herself for worrying one of the children. "There is no need for concern, though it is appreciated."
Iormu felt just a little guilty as she watched those milky white coils rustle.
"A-as you say, it's just… do forgive me, but…" Sayaka trailed off, and her 'gaze' shifted down Iormu's face, from her eyes to her cheeks. "It's just that the day is rather cool, but you seem rather… warm?"
Blinking curiously, Iormu placed her hands upon her cheeks.
Oh dear, they were rather warm, weren't they?
… The heat rose the moment its cause became apparent.
Though it was a rather irreverent thought to have, as she listened once more to the shy rustle of might coils, Sayaka couldn't help but think…
That her dear ancestor was simply adorable at times.
It was a natural belief of those who lived in the Hidden Village that the spirit world laid alongside theirs- though they honored and respected the spirits, it still ended up being a rather neighborly manner of viewing the supernatural. One that they'd inherited from their homeland, and lingered without wavering no matter how many generations separated them from their ancestral lands.
For a Shrine Maiden such as Sayaka, whose duty was to mediate between those 'neighbors', all of this was even more true… even if it was a little more difficult to retain her composure when the 'neighbor' in question was one of the illustrious Mizuchi.
Perhaps it would not have been so difficult had Sayaka not also been a Lamia, but to have one who was not only a powerful demi-spirit worthy of the utmost respect and a member of the race that could be called her ultimate ancestors (ancestors being another thing deeply respected in the village) present was a lot to take in.
But Iormu-sama made it easy, in her own fashion- even if Sayaka had the distinct impression that the Mizuchi was rather amused by the whole state of affairs, she was gentle even when teasing her younger cousin.
Sayaka would never have the gall to tell her so, but in many ways, Iormu-sama felt something like the older sister she had never been fortunate enough to have.
Wiser and more worldly than she could ever hope to be, but not so distant nor aloof for it, and expressing a genuine curiosity in the lives of Sayaka and the villagers that Iormu-sama likely only kept restrained because she was in fact aware of how flattering that interest was.
And perhaps another peculiarity of Sayaka's cultural mentality was that even 'that' was not so strange to her… and immensely interesting for reasons that had little to do with Sayaka's species or culture, and everything to do with Sayaka's gender.
… She herself had yet to fall in love, after all.
What made Sayaka's maiden heart flutter even more was the fact that not only her dear ancestor, but her first ever friend seemed to be in love with the same man… and, she was not quite certain of this, but… while one shared affection was clearly the stronger, perhaps it was not just the man who had caught their eye?
… The legends of the Mizuchi that she was less than confident in sharing were the… 'openness' of their affections?
T-that aside, she was nonetheless rather fascinated to witness such things, even if she was somewhat concerned…
He seemed very nice, but Sayaka was no less afraid of Haruhiro-san than she had been the first time she hadn't seen him.
It did make her feel more than a little ashamed, just as she was more than a little ashamed by her own views on Yukio's… thawing.
Because she feared it was only a matter of time before the 'snow' melted away…
To reveal what 'ice' laid concealed beneath.
" Is it… is it to your liking, Master Haru?" Shu'ni dared to ask, squiggling nervously.
"... Yeah. It's… it's great, Shu'ni." Haruhiro said, his voice so quiet it was barely audible.
Some feeling Shu'ni could not fully explain had whispered to her quite persistently that she should do 'that' in secret and reveal it to Master Haru as a surprise, and she had given in to those whispers…
Once again for reasons she could not fully explain.
Shu'ni had taken advantage of how the Manor was 'stabilizing' more quickly, given her master's current locale, and replaced the metal lanterns that lined the manor halls with paper lanterns in imitation of the Hidden Village.
Master Haru's mention of them had been brief, but something in the way he had spoken felt like the topic carried more weight than he had realized.
It was dreadfully impertinent to change the decor of the manor without its master's blessing but…
The way Master Haru's eyes roamed constantly, as if he could never see enough of them at once, gave Shu'ni heart that her uncharacteristic actions, bold yet furtive at the same time, had been correct.
She dearly wished for her master to view the Manor as his home, to know that, no matter what struggles awaited him in the outside world, that he could always return to her.
… To the Manor. He could return to the Manor.
Grateful that her Master's gaze was elsewhere, Shu'ni watched him a while longer before turning to silently slip away- she had a feeling that Master Haru would be there a while yet, and her own thoughts were… strange.
And yet, to her surprise, the moment she turned, silent though she was-
"Shu'ni?" The maid in question turned in response to the voice, and then froze in the face of the sight that greeted her.
It was a warm smile that convinced Shu'ni that her rebellious and incomprehensible whims had, in the absence of all logic, been correct.
"Thank you."
It was a mysterious feeling… she wished for the moment to never end, yet she also wished to flee from it with all her might.
How truly mysterious.
The change in decor went over well with the rest of the group, also, though there was another mystery born from that that left a poor maid even more lost than before.
Centorea had thanked her while wearing a coy little smile, and something about her tone gave Shu'ni the same impression that the rest of the women had given off- that they understood her actions better than Shu'ni herself did.
… It made Shu'ni feel ever so slightly frustrated, but… the feeling was not unpleasant.
The week leading up to the solstice contained the most amount of peaceful time the party spent 'doing their own thing'.
This wasn't to say they spent all, or even most of it apart, everyone just moved at their own pace, or went along with someone else's.
Even though they saw each other less overall, there was an odd but welcome sort of harmony to it.
While much of their time was spent helping with the festival, they still made time to hunt and spend time with each other, and would often end up learning something new.
Like Rachnera did, when she taught Tio the basics of knitting.
The Arachne had worn a… complicated expression when she spoke of it to the others.
"She's not really very good at it, even for a beginner," Rachnera had admitted. "But everything she tries to make ends up cute."
… Rachera managed to say that while looking proud, amused, offended, and disturbed, all at once.
No matter how little they saw each other during the day though, they always without fail ended up all together during the evening, without planning to in the slightest.
They even found a way to regularly include Shu'ni- with no other guests present, one of the doors to the main dining room had been set aside for her, and would be left open while they were all together, allowing her to sit 'with' them despite still technically being inside the Twilight Manor.
… It took her a bit to get used to not being able to serve anyone like that, though.
A curious comment from Tio did reveal that Shu'ni apparently had longer 'reach' than even Iormu's tail, it turned out, something which even seemed to surprise the Shoggoth herself.
Nevertheless, even with how hectic and exciting the week had been, in the end, it still served to reaffirm in their minds that together really was the best.
After long and careful scrutiny (ie. the very first moment she and Gorou had had a chance to converse alone after the meeting), Yukine had decided that her son-in-law was perfect.
Haru was cute, treated her daughter kindly, was handsome, treated her daughter respectfully, was adorable, and treated her daughter gently.
He was wonderfully polite and attentive to those around him, and rather than his lingering shyness being a flaw, it displayed his humble and steady soul- values her people treasured.
If she was being honest, she, like just about every other one of her neighbors, had assumed that he was one of their countrymen- it simply wasn't in their nature to make a fuss about such things, which was why the topic had never been broached in his presence.
Naturally, it wasn't widespread knowledge that the boy was from another world entirely, that was his business and his alone.
That he'd shared it with herself and her husband truly cemented, in her mind and heart, that he was to be a part of their family.
Yukine had been somewhat… concerned that the one her daughter had fallen so deeply in love with shared the affection of more than one woman, but…
She felt silly for it, now.
His world revolved around them, he could no more neglect one of them than the sky could forget the presence of the stars.
It was a beautiful thing to see, and Yukine was honestly touched for her daughter to be a part of that, and if Haru was to have more than one wife, it solved another potential issue of sorts.
… The way her daughter looked at some of the women in her life.
Well, her thoughts on the matter were simply to the extent that feeling lonely as a member of that close-knit little group was soon to become a matter that would require a good deal of effort.
Yuki-Onna had no real culture of 'whom' one should love, only a deep-seated, ancestral desire to one day attain that love for themselves.
Perhaps it was only natural, as a race born from the thawing of a frozen heart.
So it was for good reason that the raising of each and every Yuki-Onna involved a good deal of bridal training.
Yes, every Yuki-Onna, and her daughter, naturally, was…
"Is anyone else suddenly super nervous?"
"Why should you be? You look amazing. We look amazing."
"I know that, but um… y'know, actually I dunno why I'm nervous."
"If it makes you feel better, I was asking myself that question too."
"... No, that kinda makes sense, you're actually super shy and cute, aren't you, Rachnée?"
"... Just which part of me seems shy?"
"Umm… don't take this the wrong way but you kinda make more noise than most when your legs are shaking?"
"... Now that I look at it, your yukata is a little loose on the shoulders, isn't it? Let me fix that real quick."
"... Please put the threads down."
"Charming though the byplay between you two may be, I must confess that even I myself feel a strange fluttering in my chest."
"Even you too, Io!?"
"Is that so strange, Tionishia? It has been many centuries since I have dressed up to impress a man I fancy, after all."
"... Io-san is cute too."
"... Though I do appreciate the sentiment, Yukio, why did you feel the need to reach up and pat my head?"
"... Opportunity?"
The banter of the four was interrupted by a tap of the hoof as the last one to get dressed, Centorea, exited the shop.
"... Head wife looks good." Yukio nodded.
"The head wife looks good in anything, but especially good in that." Rachnera admitted, feeling a little proud of her part in that.
"Dear me, the head wife is liable to give poor Haruhiro the best kind of surprise." Iormu appraised, giving Centorea a slow once-over without a speck of shame.
"Head wife, represent!" Tio thrust her fist up into the air, nearly bouncing out of her top in the process.
"M-must teasing me be the first thing you all do?" Centorea stammered in protest, shuffling awkwardly.
A quartet of immediate nods were her answer.
"... D-do you think he will like it?"
A quartet of immediate nods were her answer, and then, Centorea was no longer the only woman not wearing a smile.
The girls lined up side-by-side out front of Kinuno Kumo, just like they agreed upon beforehand, and waited.
As expected, it was only minutes before the one they were waiting on with bated breath appeared, arm in arm with Yukio's mother who had escorted him down.
Haruhiro caught one look at them and froze, completely and utterly.
Beaming with delight, Yukine disentangled herself and stepped away, the shimmering ice of her eyes dancing back and forth as if to capture even the tiniest detail.
Her golden locks done up in a folded ponytail and held in place with chopsticks, Centorea stood in the middle, dressed in a pure white yukata that elevated her innate sense of nobility to something almost sacred. Even the mystery of how the garment managed to keep from slipping from her smoothly muscled shoulders failed to seem improper.
That wasn't to say it wasn't sexy, it just felt to Haruhiro like that sexiness was totally and perfectly appropriate, like Centorea having more cleavage on display than most women had was somehow proper etiquette.
It was decorated only at the cuffs of her sleeves, wisteria's providing a proud but refined splash of color.
The obi was a soft, forest green, and while it was wide enough to cover her waist entirely, it seemed thin, and served only to accentuate the narrowness of her waist.
The skirt was actually separate though the obi concealed the divide- separated into multiple overlapping petals of white that covered her equine lower body without getting in the way of her legs. It wouldn't do for Haruhiro's Knight to be incapable of moving properly, even if said Knight wished to fully display her feminine appeal.
And appeal she did, though she wasn't the only one.
Sprinkled with soft pink sakura petals, the front of Rachnera's midnight yukata opened all the way to the narrow violet obi she had wrapped around her thin waist, and the sleeves were slit all the way to the top of her biceps, right where the chitin ended. Putting some of her most predatory assets on full and proud display.
… He was proud of her for that.
Rachnera was actually the only woman wearing anything that could pass for 'undergarments', but even that classification was rather generous. From the glossy choker around her neck and all the way down her front was a latticework of pitch black spiderwebs, laying directly on the skin and serving to bring out its pale glow even further, like moon and stars on a cloudless night. It was something like a halter top, though what it actually covered was a mystery.
Rachnera's smug little wink revealed that she knew and welcomed just how curious he was.
Iormu wore the yukata like she wore everything else- with seemingly unassailable confidence.
As rich and darkly red as her eyes, a color that spoke to hidden passions laid bare. How it kept from exposing her entirely was the biggest mystery yet- the hem sat high on her arms but didn't touch her shoulders at all. The only clue was the thin choker she wore- a line of glinting, smoky violet beads ran from the choker and down into her exposed cleavage before vanishing entirely.
From afar, it might seem like the bottom hem was dipped in blood- decorated with bright crimson roses though it was. The obi was a simple jet black about as wide across as her hand.
Iormu had done her hair as well, in an updo that was just disheveled enough to add that extra touch of decadence to the ensemble.
Tio, surprisingly, was also in black- though Haruhiro expected that that decision had been made to (successfully) make the color of the countless sunflowers that adorned it really pop.
It was a lively garment, full of a cheerful sort of pride that Tio perfectly embodied- the golden flowers on a dark background had Haruhiro imagining a color that would never fade, no matter how long the shadows grew.
Of course, as the bustiest of a group of girls who made the term 'busty' seem like an understatement, Tio had plenty of chocolatey brown cleavage on display, the broad pink obi serving double duty to push her breasts up a little more.
Her legs were exposed to about midthigh by the open hem, though more of her left leg than her right was showing due to it being off center. Completing the look were simple wooden sandals and white obi, which Tio later reported were comfier than her usual socks.
Last but certainly not least, Yukio had her hair done up in a loose bun with actual icicles crossed through to keep it tamed. She had chosen a warmer color than she usually wore- a soft, unobtrusive pink adorned with patterns of red camellia blossoms. Unlike the others, Yukio's yukata concealed her legs entirely, the hem cut to resemble flower petals and radiating outwards at her feet. However, the material didn't seem to drag or rest on the ground at all, as if there was a thin, invisible barrier between it and Yukio's yukata.
Her vivid crimson obi covered as much of her waist as a corset would, which, combined with the open nature of the neckline that revealed plumb pale bosom and slim shoulders with equal emphasis, gave the impression of a beautiful flower in full bloom.
What words could Haruhiro offer that could possibly give such an enchanting vision justice?
… Well, sometimes simple was best.
"... Beautiful."
An outsider would shake their head at the meager remark.
… The ones who could actually understand Haruhiro felt their cheeks heat up almost immediately as they read between the lines.
Just one word, spoken as if every bit of meaning the word carried was meant to represent them, and them alone.
One word, when spoken as total truth, was more than enough.
It felt a bit strange to celebrate the longest day of the year when the day was over, but there had been a 'tradition' of sorts taking place during the day- the longest day of the year gave the people the most light to work by, and people took it as a time to put an end to tasks they hadn't found the time for, or had been putting off.
The actual celebration began at twilight- dusk, specifically. It was one of the oldest, deepest traditions carried from the homeland that every festival began at dusk.
It was when the boundary between the physical and the spiritual was at its thinnest- when it was believed that the world itself was at its most 'alive'.
The perfect time for a celebration.
Naturally, they 'lost' Tio first.
The giddy Ogress seemed to be everywhere at once like she was trying to experience everything at once- it wasn't as if the big main square where the bulk of the stands were set up was all that crowded, even with the whole village in attendance.
There just wasn't that many people in the Hidden Village, though it was more densely populated than Centorea's Lusia, the entire population of Yukio's home was somewhere around two hundred people. So, with the entire main street, plus the temple itself (stairs at the northern end of the main square) as a part of the festival 'area', even Iormu had space to move around in.
That being said, it was artful how they'd arranged things.
And he meant 'they' as in the girls.
Centorea's gentle hand on his shoulder steered him towards someone, and he offered that someone his arm, apparently on instinct.
A slim, cool arm entwined with his, and then he and Yukio were alone.
More or less aware of what was going on, Haruhiro flashed her a smile.
Admittedly, the way her cheeks flushed immediately had him feeling a bit of secondhand fluster as well, but Haruhiro lacked the self-awareness to understand why Yukio had blushed in the first place.
Apparently it wasn't a festival without games- Haruhiro had found himself accepting that without question because it made perfect sense.
His targets were in a close cluster, but their stances looked unsteady, and so if he took out the leader, he could probably topple the whole group.
Unbeknownst to him, Haruhiro's reliable backup was watching him with twinkling eyes, and covering her mouth with one voluminous pink sleeve.
Breathe evenly, keep the wrist loose, and…
Haruhiro ended the 'battle' in a single throw, decimating his enemies in one well placed strike.
The thin but sturdy jars scattered through the air as the feather-stuffed, leather ball smashed into their ranks, knocking down every last one of the targets, as Yukio gave a near silent but no less enthusiastic cheer, thrusting one fist up into the air.
The old man running the stall clapped delightedly, giving a raucous laugh as he flashed Haruhiro a grin.
"Well kid, you were pretty intense but I guess it worked for you, ah?" He said enthusiastically. "You got it in one, so you can give Yukio-chan any prize you'd like."
"... M-me?" Yukio stuttered quietly as Haruhiro, still seeming quite serious even though he was smiling once more, pointed without hesitation.
Nodding knowingly, the man passed him his prize, not the one on the top shelf, but from one shelf down and to the left.
Turning with a soft smile, Haruhiro presented it to Yukio, who quietly inhaled.
… It was a simple thing, a little stuffed toy cat that the ladies of Kinuno Kumo made en masse for festival prizes.
Yukio accepted the cute little toy without a word, tenderly cradling it in both hands, but looking at it as if she didn't quite know what to make of it.
"... I noticed your eyes kept going back to it, so…" Haruhiro trailed off awkwardly.
"Ah… it is… so very cute." A breathy whisper softly proclaimed as Yukio rubbed her cheek against it.
Out of the corner of his eye, Haruhiro was vaguely aware of the old man giving him a thumbs up, but Yukio was rightly taking up the lion's share of his attention.
"Thank you… Haru," Yukio said with a lovely smile. "I will treasure it… always."
"You're welcome, Yukio." Haruhiro smiled back, a bit surprised to find himself honestly feeling proud.
And to think that the night had only just begun.
… So warm, so very warm.
This warmth it was…
It was bliss.
If Yukio could have frozen the moment in ice so that it would last forever, she would have done so without shame.
… Ah, no, that was not right, she needed to share.
After this, anyways- the others had assured her that feeling selfish with Haru was not wrong, nor was even acting selfish when it was only the two of them.
It was only when her selfishness came at another's expense that it was wrong.
The more she thought about it then, did it not mean that this precisely was the perfect moment for her to act selfish?
Surely, Haru would not turn her away were he to at last witness her ugly side.
No, Haru was too kind, and too warm for that.
Ah… how truly, truly wonderful.
His arms around her, his precious warmth against her skin, those smiles that were for her and her alone.
Truly, if she could have frozen this moment, she would have already done so without a trace of shame.
Yukio had no experience with being selfish.
It could not be helped- physically and mentally she may have been all woman, but emotionally she was as fresh faced as a child, and no amount of instruction could prepare her for something that could only be felt.
She had no experience with needing to tell herself 'no'... no frame of reference to understand why the desire running rampant within her heart may have required restraining.
As a creature of eternal winter, Yukio had no way of knowing just how dangerous thawing ice could be.
It was not her fault.
The girls had planned things out in some way, and he trusted them so naturally he'd follow along.
But that did not mean that he had no plans of his own.
Finding somewhere just a little private was child's play, and Yukio was a ready partner in following along- drifting in his wake as silent as the falling snow, the hem of her yukata that should have been dragging along the ground still spotless.
Ever so gently, Haruhiro led her into the shadows of the trees, and as the darkness shrouded them, gently pressed Yukio's back against one of those trees and leaned in, trapping her.
Even the faintest bit of light was enough for Yukio's glacial eyes to glow, and every sweet, ragged sigh that leaked from glossy pale lips was enough to make her pale bosom heave.
"Not that I haven't been having fun, but some things are better done in private, don't you think?" Haruhiro brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face as Yukio shivered in a way that had nothing to do with temperature.
A jerky, eager nod was her only response, paired with slim hands reaching out of their own accord, wrapping around the back of his head and neck as if to further conceal the two.
"I am… unsure of what 'things' you may mean, Haru~" Yukio purred ever so quietly. "You will have to show me… in detail."
The distance between her lips and his seemed to melt away to nothing.
In the fraction of a second before their lips met, Haruhiro stared deeply into her eyes, and took note of something that was not there before.
Yukio's eyes shimmered red at the edges, like a thin haze of mist laying low on the ice.
Her lips were cold, but so very soft and-
… The words hung heavily in the air, as grim as a funeral dirge and as bittersweet as the last words spoken above a lover's grave.
"The faceless card, the empty frame.
The unanswered riddle shall be thy name.
A page left blank, a path unknown,
This Empty Fate is yours alone."
In the expectant silence that followed, Haruhiro's eyes fluttered open, taking in the empty sky above with a vague sense of curiosity.
He went to rise, but a pair of dainty hands on his shoulders prevented that, firmly but not ungently.
Accepting that he wasn't going to be getting up just yet, Haruhiro relaxed his body, settling in more comfortably on the soft and slightly cool pillow that her legs were serving as.
Belatedly staring down his own body, Haruhiro's gaze met that of the one who had given those strange and potent lyrics a voice.
… Which was the severed head currently seated on his chest, staring at him with the hint of a sardonic smile on her thin, pale blue lips.
Soft brown, swimming in the color of fresh blood, met golden orbs surrounded by the deepest black, like a lantern dangling into the abyss.
Haruhiro smiled, and spoke the words he knew she was waiting for, but would never admit to.
"Ominous and impossible to forget, whoever came up with those words knew what they were talking about."
"Indeed! You ears have not deceived…! H-hmmph, spare me the meaningless platitudes," the severed head huffed, failing entirely to hide the way her grim gaze sparkled cutely with delight.
Completing the betrayal, the headless body that was giving him a lap pillow squirmed, the funeral flames leaking from the stump of its neck flickering joyfully.
The woman gave another huff, a hint of purple on her pale blue cheeks.
He knew her pretty well at this point, and so Haruhiro's next set of words were also ones she had been waiting to hear.
"It's good to see you again, Lala," he greeted, "even if I don't know how I ended up here in the first place."
"Is it not obvious?" Lala gravely intoned. "Once more, this pale specter greets the newly deceased upon the Pale Shore."
"... I died again, huh?" It didn't really bother him as much as it should have, because the dead weren't bothered by a whole lot.
"Well, mostly." Lala relented, her tone returning to that of a normal, soft-spoken girl. "... Half dead at worst, I suppose."
A near death experience, such as it were.
"Well, I am pretty curious how I ended up mostly dead, but…"
The grim specter of death gave an undignified little squeak as he scooped her head up off his chest and sat up in the same motion.
"- But it's been a while, and I guess there's no rush, is there?" The dead had nothing but time, after all.
Behind his back, the headless body of the great and terrible Dullahan was twisting to and fro in a girlish display of enthusiasm.
Lala makes her first on page appearance (you'll notice that it's a reunion and not a first meeting).
You're probably also wondering what happened to Haru in the first place, and how Yukio might have been involved, but all in good time.
Next chapter will be rather story heavy, for all three characters mentioned as the curtains roll back.
Oh, and as an aside, the flower choices for the yukatas were very much deliberate, so look into those if you're curious (just google Japanese flower meanings).