It's rare for them to have even a little bit of a vacation, and yet, even so, this vacation isn't a super obvious one or a major one, because Zen isn't all that far away to begin with. And yet, with the fact that they are allowed a moment to relax, it's beautiful.
The moonlight glimmers across the ocean and its waves. Kiki and Mitsuhide are standing on the beach, not far from where Zen sleeps in the hotel. It's unusual to even have a few moments like this, surreal to realize and live out this calm with one another.
It's different to relax around one another, like little candles lit in a small room, fire just slowly and small-y glowing. It's nice. It's the hint of light that slowly warms up and reveals a room.
And Kiki's out here in that calm with Mitsuhide, and it is only the two of them, as the ocean glimmers in front of them. It's rare to have a moment just for them like this, a moment of relaxation for just the two knights. It's dream-like, almost ethereal.
In the calm somehow Kiki's hand ends up in Mitsuhide's, and the ocean being their background noise floats up like a symphony. And within the near quiet of night, it's almost like Mitsuhide whispers that he's glad that it is Kiki out here with him, rather than anyone else in the world.
She feels hopeful, breathless, and she isn't quite sure if it's a foolish hope or a steadfast one; Mitsuhide squeezes her hand in his tender grip. And it's like the moon grew wings with the way the air picks up with hope and with affection, and Kiki's lips slowly turn up into a gentle smile, almost like a bow.
"So, what now?" Mitsuhide breaks the silence and the mood shifts back to normal, shifts back to friendship that often borders on something a little more, something a little different, and Kiki isn't sure what to really tell him.
So, she looks at him, and hopes that a look can convey more than even an emotion, that somehow he'll find the cues that she doesn't know she's releasing, and he'll take her into some new kind of a direction.
"Should we go to bed?" He seems disappointed with the question as soon as it leaves his lips, and Kiki marvels at how awkward they've grown with each other that's speedily picked up just as their familiarity and comfort with each other has grown by leaps and bounds.
"How about we stay?" Kiki offers, and when she grips Mitsuhide's hands, there's almost a wish to the touch. And slowly, with the ocean as their symphony, they spin into a makeshift waltz. Mitsuhide's strong suit is not waltzing.
It's almost improv with the way his movements run, and Kiki is the only one of the two of them who has been so schooled in ballroom dance, but even so, she was not taught how to lead. And yet, she takes the lead, guiding her friend and crush through the moves to a rather rudimentary waltz, one with steps that it seems only the two of them know.
And the quiet of the night is its own still whisper.