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Title: The Messenger's True Love

Inspired by: Chapter 37 of the Manga Akagami ni Shirayukihime

Character: Izana Wistalia, Shirayuki, Obi

Rating: General


I twisted the brass doorknob of one of the doors leading into the repository. The candles lighting up the huge, double volume ceiling made the room look warm despite its clinical atmosphere. Most of day researchers are gone, leaving the area sparse. There are a few people left, still busy with their own research, unperturbed by the ongoing crisis gripping the city. A couple of familiar faces nodded at me; the night librarian and his assistant, bustling about, pushing a cart filled with more scrolls and thick books which they are busy returning to the shelves. Like the one at Wistal Castle, the Pharmacology Institute's repository never closes. It is always open around the clock, for researchers to do their works at any time of the day that suits their needs and preferences.

"Luen!"

I turned and found myself looking at Suzu, whose bloodshot eyes made me raise my eyebrows.

He shuffled nearer to my person, looking tired.

"At least one of us still has enough energy." He gave me a once over before jerking his head tiredly from whence he came. "If you are looking for your companions, I'm afraid one of them is already conked out from fatigue. But the young genius is still awake. Persuade them to get some rest and we will reconvene at first light tomorrow."

I nodded in acknowledgement. "No news about a cure yet?"

"I'm afraid that would be too ambitious for today." He replied before he pivoted on his heel, heading to the door. "Yuzuri already went back to her dormitory, and I have yet to get my dinner. I shall see you tomorrow then, Luen."

He waved his hand and I murmured my evening greetings as he disappeared behind the doors.

Hurrying along, I decided to ask the boy genius what is his assessment of the current situation when I found myself nearing the lounge chair whereby I saw a tall man standing next to it looking down at something with an expression akin to tenderness.

I stopped abruptly, frowning, feeling a little out of place.

There can be no mistake about the situation I just stumbled upon. It seems to me that I interrupted a very intimate, albeit, one-sided love confession.