Author Note: As always, thank you all very much for your feedback! :D

11
part one

"It won't wor—ow!"

"Hold still—and of course it will work!"
Shirayuki gently presses around the goose-egg half concealed by Obi's hairline while he squirms in his seat like a child, emergency medical supplies rescued from storage and laid out on the kitchen table before them.

"No one is going t—ouch—to believe that I fell," the knight continues his protests and his wriggling.

"Trust me, they will. Especially in this weather." The herbalist studies the lump's highest point, humming low to herself, fingertips' touch featherlight on tender flesh. This would certainly take a while to fade. Had he hit that wall face first, he'd likely have broken his nose, and then she'd really have a bloody mess on her hands. She sighs. Thank goodness for small wonders.

"I—that hurts!" he bounces again, to the far side of the chair.

"Then stop—wiggling! Quit jumping around, and I'll finish quicker!" Shirayuki paces round his chair, but he scoots back to the other side again, shrinking away. She didn't know what had gotten into him—he behaved himself just fine while she treated his hand.
Before she had noticed the bump on his head.
The bump that he had neglected to mention in any way whatsoever.

"You shouldn't be moving so much anyway!" she scolds, planting herself directly behind him, trapping him in place.

Obi huffs, immediately regretting it when the ache in his side blossoms anew. But still.
Stop squirming? With her hand on his face and her fingers in his hair? Seriously?
His own fingers twitch, jarring the freshly cleaned and bandaged knuckles. He cringes, biting back a pained hiss.

"Stop—" Shirayuki warns a third time, her impatience swelling with his bruised hand.

"I—I am trying!" He gasps, and steadies himself.

She nods in approval, resuming her examination. "Don't the other guards tell you to use the normal paths? You've mentioned something like that before, I think."

"Well, yes, but—it's like—" he pauses, searching for an effective comparison, "would you ever confuse yura akagi with yura shigure again?"

"O-of course not!" she reddened, affronted by the very thought.

"See? That's what you're asking me to do here." Slip and fall? Him?
Absurd.

Shirayuki gapes and stammers, "W–well, do you have—any other ideas?"

Obi opens his mouth, intending to rattle off an entire litany of possibilities. But every ounce of his wit chose that precise moment to desert him, leaving his mind a total blank.
He had nothing.
Nothing that would explain all of this half as elegantly as the solution Miss championed.

So he shut his mouth and shook his head.

"Let's leave that aside for now." She sighs, dropping a hand to her hip. "How's your head feel?"

"It hurts," he mutters, gingerly leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms.

"Sorry—that wasn't..." Shirayuki shakes her head, combing her other hand through her hair, brushing it out of her face and tucking it back behind her ear.
"I mean besides the pain. Nausea? Ears ringing? Are you dizzy at all?"

He glances up at her concerned face, then averts his gaze.
"I'm fine."

"Obi—"

"No, no, and of course not. Yes, I can see straight. I know where I am and I'm not confused." He frowns. This entire situation was absurd. Laid low by a dream? Pathetic.

"You are, however, quite surly," Shirayuki observes with a sigh, wandering over to the shelves of cookware and selecting a large bowl. "I'm going to get some snow from the balcony. For a cold compress. Do you want anything? A pillow, or a blanket?"

"I can get it myself—" Obi leans forward, preparing to stand.

"No, you are going to stay. There." She shoots him a stern look, and he sinks sheepishly back into the chair. Satisfied that he was, in fact, going to stay put—she turns, disappearing through the doorway.

"And when I get back," her voice echos from the next room, "I want to have a look at your side."