She doesn't remember when it exactly it starts, having only focused on being wary and careful during their first couple meetings, but at present she can say, without a doubt, that Marisa Kirisame interferes with her life in the same manner the human fights: flashy, forceful, and frustrating beyond belief.
The latest incident involves one of the biggest flashes of all.
She'd been in the middle of making a pot of morning tea, planning her activities for the day and sending her dolls to their tasks throughout the house, when she looked through the kitchen window and nearly knocked the pot over in panic.
A bright ray of light shining over in the horizon was never a good sign, and she had approximately one single, deafening heartbeat to process the sight before the light detonated and the resulting shockwave had the trees wildly flailing and her house trembling to its very foundation. The pot finally broke then, sent to the floor by the vibrations and exploding into pieces, releasing a torrent of hot water that barely missed her feet.
Instantly, her dolls were at her side and cleaning the mess up, but she was already running for the door and putting on her shoes.
That explosion had come from where she knew Marisa lived in the Forest of Magic, and despite herself, a strong thread of worry wrapped itself around her heart.
There was no time to fret, however, and with a few dolls loyally accompanying her, she'd rushed off to see what'd happened.
...
For the upteenth time that day, Alice finds her eyebrow twitching in irritation as she sits at her kitchen table, trying, and failing, to read the book in her grasp. Her lack of concentration has nothing to do with any willpower of her own, but rather the annoyance now firmly lodged into the armchair (the very same one she usually reads in) by the fireplace, singing absentmindedly and just the slightest bit off tune.
Blonde hair bouncing despite the bandages wrapped around them, Marisa pretends not to notice her irritation and continues to belt away.
Alice is not one to normally snap, especially not at an injured guest, but Marisa is not just any ordinary injured guest, and she certainly isn't any kind of considerate to her host like most people would be. Clenching her jaw, Alice pointedly clears her throat, and when the singing only gets louder, opens her mouth and says, "Finished with your book already?"
Marisa finally stops singing long enough to look at said book and dangle it upside down, a smug smirk on her lips. "Read it ages ago," she sing songs out.
Alice pinches the bridge of her nose. "First of all, please stop singing."
Marisa's smirk only widens.
"Secondly, if all you needed was a new book to read, you could have asked."
She shrugs, bandages shifting. "Unless you bought anything new after that volume of magical theory last week, I've already read pretty much everything you have."
Before she has the chance to wonder when exactly Marisa had the time to peruse her entire library, the bandaged girl suddenly shoots forward, wincing slightly but not deterred by her pain, and pushes herself off the armchair.
"What are you doing?!" Alice nearly shouts, shooting up from her own chair, two of her dolls already at Marisa's side, poised and ready to help her. Marisa waves them off, but they stay stubbornly where they are.
"Bah, you're worrying too much. I'm fine, see?" the clearly not-fine party wince-smiles.
Her first step almost has her falling face first to the floor.
Fortunately, her dolls instantly react and catch her, holding her up long enough for Alice to make her way over and pull the idiot back into the chair herself.
"Ah…"
Alice has to resist the urge to smack her upside the head.
"The next time you do that, I am letting you fall," the dollmaker growls, hands checking to see if the idiot's bandages are still securely in place and nothing was torn back open. Once her inspection reveals nothing amiss, she heaves a heavy sigh, pulls her hands away, and stands back up.
Marisa is looking sheepishly away. "Right. Thanks," comes her embarrassed mumble.
Shaking her head, shoulders sagging, Alice moves away, picking up the empty teacup on the living room table. "You're welcome, I suppose," she says as evenly as she can, going back to the kitchen and preparing Marisa another cup of tea with her new teapot. Once a new cup of steaming liquid is in her hands, she moves back and sets it down, glancing at her guest.
Marisa is staring at her.
Alice's eyebrows furrow.
"Ah," Marisa jolts, almost as if she is startled awake, and a bandaged hands comes up to rub nervously at the back of her neck. "I never got to, you know, say thanks. For this."
Alice narrows her eyes at her, confused. "The tea?"
"What?" Marisa's eyes dart over to the steaming teacup, as if just noticing it for the first time. "No! I mean, helping me, and all."
"Oh." She blinks. "Well, I couldn't very well have left you to bleed to death," Alice responds, a wry smile dancing on her lips. Marisa, instead of looking reassured at the answer, however, starts to fidget even more.
"Yeah, but, I mean, you coulda just dumped me at Reimu's and let her deal with me," she shrugs. "So, I just…"
One eyebrow shoots up Alice's forehead.
"Taking you to Reimu would have been dangerous and silly, considering how much you were bleeding and how close my own home is. You know this, don't you?" she asks, gazing intently over.
"Well, yeah, but…"
"But…?"
Marisa mumbles something under her breath, causing Alice's eye to dangerously twitch.
"What was that?" she grits through her teeth.
"Uh, I mean, I was just saying you can totally take me home now! I'm fine~ Ahaha~" She laughs a few more times, before the laughter trails awkwardly off into silence.
Alice's glare is stony and cold.
"Okay! I'm bored! I'm bored, and at least I coulda pilfered some sake from Reimu's if I was there."
"You're seriously considering getting drunk while you're this hurt," Alice emotionlessly rephrases.
"Hey, it'd take the edge off the pain–"
Marisa freezes, mouth half open. Her eyeballs turn slowly in their sockets.
"You could have just asked for painkillers!"
The wince on her bandaged face is enormous as she recoils from the shout. For a few tense moments, their gazes lock into a heated battle, before Marisa closes her eyes, groans, and tilts her head back into the armchair.
"That's not… I mean… It doesn't hurt that bad anyways," she grumbles, arms folding across her chest.
With the human's eyes closed, Alice takes this opportunity to lightly jab a finger into Marisa's midsection, observing the chicken-like squawk of pain that escapes the girl immediately after.
"That bad, huh?" she repeats, eyes dangerously narrowed.
Marisa is too busy hissing in agony to answer, her knuckles white as her hands grip the armrests of her seat.
Really, Alice thinks, this girl is impossible.
Stepping away, she leaves for the cupboard on the other side of the living room, pulling its wooden doors open and revealing rows of various jars and bottles. There's not too many, as she rarely needs the remedies herself, but she keeps a stock of just about everything essential for moments like these. She quickly finds what she needs, organized as the cabinet is, pulls the jar out, and plucks a few leaves from its contents.
She returns to find Marisa sulking over the rim of her teacup.
"You know, you could have made your point differently," she mumbles almost intelligibly into the porcelain.
Alice has to restrain herself from smiling. "If it's not flashy, then what's the point?" she smoothly replies.
"Okay, come on, you can't use it like that."
"I'm sorry, what was that? Did you say you didn't want painkillers?"
The dark grin that twitches across Marisa's lips is wry and dangerous. "You'll regret this one day. Mark my words."
"Is that a yes?"
A finger moves near her midsection once more, and the grin is quickly wiped off her face as her one free hand reflexively shields her stomach.
"N-Nah, please, go ahead, put it in!" she beams with the falsest of smiles, holding her tea out.
And so Alice sprinkles the leaves into the tea, watching as wisps of brown bleed out from underneath the leaves and into the golden liquid. Once the entirety of the tea has turned a murky dirt color, Marisa blows eagerly into her cup and takes a sip, frowning immediately after.
"Huh, that's weird. Doesn't this kinda thing normally taste like sh–"
Calmly, the dollmaker catches the teacup, preventing even a drop of the liquid from spilling, and watches as Marisa's hands fall limply into her lap, her eyes closed and her head tilted to the side against the back of the armchair.
A light snore escapes her nostrils.
A relieved sigh escapes her lips.
"Finally," she says to nobody in particular, handing the cup to a nearby doll and watching it float away to the kitchen. After casting another glance at Marisa's slumbering form, she waves her hand, and a few dolls bring a blanket over and drape it carefully onto her, tucking her neatly in. "Some peace and quiet."
She moves to the kitchen table and picks up her book once more.
…
"Technically, if you fall into a deep sleep, you won't feel pain. So essentially, those were painkillers."
Marisa has a half-glare, half-pout on her face as she chews the vegetables in her mouth, knife and fork pointed downwards to her plate. Compared to how she looked hours before, there is less pallor to her skin tone, and Alice feels no small amount of relief to note this.
"Dat waz drrtrr," she replies through a full mouth.
Alice stares unamused at her.
Rolling her eyes, Marisa picks up her bowl of soup and chugs at it, a sliver of liquid escaping the edge of her lips and running down from her chin, then to her jaw as she does so. She separates from the bowl with a satisfied sigh.
A doll floats over and dabs at her chin with a napkin.
"That was dirty," Marisa repeats, rubbing absently at where the doll had wiped. "And you know it."
"It did what it was supposed to do, and that was to help you rest, keep you away from pain, and give me peace and quiet." She stabs a carrot with her fork and brings it to her mouth, ignoring the incredulous look Marisa throws at her.
"Excuse me, maybe I should just leave then!"
"Not until you can withstand a simple poke to the stomach."
Her silverware clattering to the plate as she drops them, Marisa instantly wraps her arms defensively around her midsection. Alice's eyes flicker disinterestedly at her before she cuts into her chicken and chews on it. After a moment, she swallows.
"So no, you can't leave."
As Alice continues to eat her dinner, she doesn't realize that Marisa is now grinning smugly at her from across the table.
"Ah, I get it now. So that's how it is."
Alice pauses, fork halfway to her mouth. "What are you going on about now?" she sighs, finally looking back up. A heavy frown covers her face immediately.
"My eyes have been opened."
"What in the world are you talking about?"
"Don't play coy, Alice," Marisa grins, except unlike the other ones she's showcased so far, this one has a leering quality to it that immediately unsettles Alice to the core.
"I have absolutely no idea what you're referring to."
"Ah-ah!"
A finger shoots dramatically across the table and points at the dollmaker right between the eyes.
"You can't hide the truth from me!"
"Put your hand down and keep eating, please."
If anything, the finger gets closer to her face. She tries her best to ignore the offending object and keep eating the rice that is still on her plate.
"You, Alice Margatroid–"
"Marisa, please."
"Want to keep me, Marisa Kirisame–"
"Marisa."
"All to yourself!"
Alice blanches at her.
"You know it's true! You want to keep me all to yourself, so that I can love you and only you…"
The tips of Alice's ears begin to turn red. "E-Excuse me?!"
"Ah, I wonder what dirty things you have in store for me! After all, you won't let me leave, so surely you have something planned in that dark basement of yours–"
"There are no such things in my basement!" she all but shrieks, shooting up and sending her chair screeching, and a few of her dolls move to stand with her.
"Come on, Alice, no more tricks, just be honest~"
"Marisa!"
"You know, I read about something like this before. What's it called… Stock… helm…"
"Marisa, stop it!"
"Ah! It was Stockholm S–"
Alice abruptly shoves her napkin into Marisa's mouth. With wide eyes and flushed cheeks, she stares at the idiot's eyes twinkling with mischief and fumes.
"Ah," Marisa tries to say through her muffled mouth. "Pfu haff tsum frisu fun frure frase."
She squints suspiciously down at her guest. Marisa beams happily back up at her. After a few more moments of heavy breathing and staring, she decides to hope for the best, lowers the napkin, and allows Marisa to spit it out.
"You have some rice on your face," comes the unexpected comment.
And without any warning, a bandaged hand comes up, plucks the offending grain of rice from the corner of her mouth, and places it into Marisa's smug mouth.
For some reason, Alice feels her heart stop.
Then Marisa swallows and winks.
"Delicious!"
Her face burns as if someone had set it on fire, and her body recoils as if struck.
Marisa merely whistles a happy, innocent tune, knife and fork back in her hands, and tears away at the chicken on her plate.
"Y-You… you… you…"
"Hm?" she hums through a mouthful of breast.
That's the last straw.
Without another word, Alice turns, walks to the door, twists the doorknob and storms off into the night, a dozen dolls following dutifully after her. The cool night air is heaven against her hot skin, but it's not enough to calm the pounding of her heart and the frustration bubbling beneath her skin.
She stops long enough to realize she should probably lock the entire house up and leave a few dolls on guard, just in case Marisa tries to make her getaway.
The rascal might've even planned this whole thing for that purpose.
With a half-growl, half-groan, she takes flight and searches for a destresser or ten.
…
When she comes back, the sky is light grey and the morning birds are chirping. She's covered in scratches and bruises, and there are bits of her outfit torn asunder, but the damage is all minor, and she's the most relaxed she's been in the past twenty four hours.
She steps onto the porch and feels the first rays of the sun peek over the horizon.
The door opens.
One doll peeks through the opening and bows.
She instantly knows what's amiss, but the exhaustion is setting into her bones and she's too tired to do much except exasperatedly sigh and go inside.
Which is a mistake, of course.
The second she steps through the doorway, the distinct acrid scent of burning fills her nostrils and has her gagging.
"Oh my…"
Eyes watering and trepidation in her steps, she moves for the kitchen and immediately sees the source of the problem.
Sitting innocuously on her kitchen table, a plate of unidentifiable black chunks sparkles brightly in the morning sun, a knife and fork placed neatly on either side of it and completing the entire ensemble.
Right next to that is a sheet of paper.
Curiosity getting the better of her, she picks it up and reads.
Hey Alice,
I know I'm bad at being grateful and all that jazz, but seriously, thanks for helping me out.
Enjoy breakfast~
M.
"Breakfast, she says…"
Still, Alice moves to sit down in front of the sparkling black chunks and picks up her fork.
"I wonder why they're sparkling, though."
She pokes at it.
The resulting explosion sends a light layer of soot all over her face and clothes, and every doll in her home jolts to attention in accordance with her fight or flight instincts.
Her heart thunders in her ears.
Then she looks down to her plate.
It's another sheet of paper.
She can't help herself. She bursts out laughing.
It's so typical Marisa: flashy, forceful and absolutely aggravating in delivery.
Shaking her head and wiping at her face, she stands and moves for her bathroom, waving her dolls along to clean up the mess and gather her a change of clothes.
"Oh." She stops one doll. "Make sure you grab the paper on the plate and give it to me once I've bathed and changed, okay."
The doll obediently nods.
As Alice hums a cheerful tone away and the dolls of the house clatter along doing their duties, the one doll with special instructions floats over to the plate and gazes at the paper her mistress had commanded her to guard over.
Though it cannot read the words, somehow it can sense that they are important.
It sits until her mistress is back again, this time in a fresh change of clothes and looking positively radiant and excited. The dollmaker goes to rummage around her cabinet, placing various items into a basket at her feet.
Hurriedly, it picks the paper up and floats over.
Alice is busy placing a roll of bandages into the basket when it moves in front of her. "Oh," she exclaims. She grabs the sheet and pets the doll on its head. "Thank you very much."
She reads the paper again, her lips mouthing the address written, before turning to the doll once more.
"Well, come along then. We better hurry and make sure she's not hurting herself anymore."
The doll nods, receives another pat on the head, waits for her mistress to pick the basket up, and follows her out the door.
The morning sun shines brightly on her mistress's blonde hair.
…
Hi again, Alice,
So there's this awesome cafe that serves youkai and humans and its pancakes are pretty damn awesome.
Meet me there.
M.
P.S. You better clean that soot off and change into nice clothes, ya hear me?
P.S.S. Also here's the address. Since you probably have no idea where this awesome place is. 'Cause it's too awesome for you to know.
P.S.S.S. And like, maybe bring some spare bandages and actual painkillers this time too.
P.S.S.S.S. Thanks.
A/N: Happy (Belated) Birthday, Ill! Thanks for being there for me all these years. I hope we continue to have many more and one day enjoy cake together.
As for everyone else, I don't really 2hu, so I'm sorry if there are any inaccuracies. Thanks for reading!