samaqi: Greetings, everyone! Thank you very much for checking out this piece. To those who have already completed "From Z to A" and have been following my ongoing project, "Succession of Witches," I truly appreciate your support. I'm so glad to know that some of you have enjoyed my work so far, which I managed to write during my career break.
I have started a new job for two months but my mind kept wandering about some feedback regarding Zyma and Acma's love story feeling forced. First, thanks a lot for the feedback! Second, I want to clarify that it was my intention for their love to be unnatural, as hinted throughout "From Z to A" when Zyma inexplicably, uncontrollably felt drawn to her burgundy eyes even in their first encounter. The epilogues of "From Z to A" have another heavy hint, and Timeth's recount in "Succession of Witches" provides a concrete reason. However, I do acknowledge that I could have executed the transition from enemies to lovers more convincingly. This one-shot serves as an attempt to achieve that.
Their relationship is very slow burn. If you come here looking for hot scenes, I'm sorry to disappoint you. XD.
This event happened before they confessed their feelings to each other. Each knew they liked the other already but both decided to keep it to their own.
Timber.
"Wait here," Zyma told Acma as they reached Timber Pub.
"Um... Why?"
"Why what? You're a minor, you can't step inside. Wait here. I'll be quick."
"Here you go again, using a mission as an excuse for your shady trade," she nagged.
"Whose profit pays for your comfy dorm room and lab flasks, kid. You're welcome."
He playfully patted her head and messed up her hair enough to make her wince, then vanished into the pub.
Two drunkards, one with a beard and the other with a face tattoo covering more than half of his face, were on their way out.
Zyma ignored them and walked to the bartender for business. But he quickly caught his mentee's gasp of shock from behind.
"Too small. Smaller than mine."
One of the drunkards said with a lustful voice, laughing non-stop at Acma even as he wobbly walked away from her.
Though Zyma couldn't see her face, he figured she would be petrified by the situation. Anger rose in him. He instinctively stepped towards the door, but was stopped by the bartender who returned with some items.
"That'll be 5000, Z."
"Aye aye."
By the time he'd finished the transaction, the drunkards had magically disappeared. Luck was on their side today.
She appeared uncomfortable. He felt guilty, as he had brought her here. To do her a favor, he pretended he had seen nothing.
He asked her to purchase the train tickets to return to Balamb. Unlike her usual self, she almost forgot to collect the change from the cashier. He tried to crack a few inappropriate jokes, but instead of wincing in disgust or laughing like a maniac, she showed him nothing.
Nothing. Not even a faint smile. Worse, he could tell the presence of tears in her burgundy eyes, which she tried to conceal by gazing up at the train station's ceiling.
Her mind was not with him. He was certain that he wanted to remember that bastard's facial tattoo until his death. Seeing it twice would solidify that goal.
"Wait here. I forgot to buy something."
"What is it?"
"Flowers."
He grasped internally at his brilliant idea. Booze, cigarettes, mushrooms. Out of all the heavy stuff possible in a pub that a girl wouldn't give a damn, there he was, telling her that he wanted to risk catching a train to buy flowers.
"For my mom," he responded to her quizzical look.
"Oh… Wow, that's very nice of you. For what occasion?"
"Birthday."
When is it exactly? He had no clue.
"Do you know what kind of flowers she likes?"
That's indeed a good question. For a criminal.
"Roses," he blurted out the only kind of flowers he knew or should ever exist on Earth for the sake of mankind. Practical, one-size-fit-all for any occasions. It could be a little weird for funerals. But hey, white roses might do the trick!
"Okay, I'll get them for you. Wait here."
He felt bewildered by her offer. While he was busy cooking up a reason to dispute the idea, she had already left with a good one.
"I'll get reimbursement from Xu, sensei."
Of course, he wouldn't believe such a rule-follower would waste Mommy Xu's money for her mentor's mom's birthday's roses. He waited a bit before leaping onto the rooftops and tailing her.
With an eye roll of disbelief, he watched as she made her way back to the pub.
Not finding the bastards she was looking for, she ventured into the dimly lit alleys full of rats, cats, and shattered glass. He could spot the drunkards from the vantage point above, while it took her some time to locate them.
She stood there, fixated on them, who were unaware of her presence. Zyma played simulations in his mind. What's next?
After moments of Timber's sitcoms' level of suspension, she turned away and walked off.
He scoffed. Of course. What did he expect?
Just as he tiptoed to get back towards the train station, she made a sharp turn and marched towards the drunkards without any sign of hesitation this time.
Her next words fell on deaf ears as the men paid her no attention in their inebriated state. To make her presence known, she grabbed a wooden rod seemingly used for hanging clothes and poked their fat bellies, spewing quotes from sexual harassment laws. There was one set of federal laws for women. Another for minors. And one more local version for Timber and Balamb, respectively.
Zyma facepalmed. It was a good thing he hadn't joined her in this pathetic confrontation that would surely ruin his reputation in this dull town.
Acma poked and lectured. Then she poked and lectured more. She demanded an apology, it seemed.
Not gonna happen, Zyma smirked amusingly. This girl is a freaking weirdo.
The drunkards, annoyed, started to yell at her. As the 6-foot-tall bastard with the facial tattoo rose to his feet, Zyma worried he might grope her again, but quickly dimissed the thought. Based on his experience, lust had no place in these poor bastards' mind longing for a blissful slumber after drowning themselves in the booze. Plus, she could easily handle ten guys like them under preparation.
Reverting to her usual nervous and defensive mode, she yelled back in a high-pitched voice, which drew attention from the entire town. Zyma crouched low, not wanting to be spotted by the curious housewives who always surprised him with their vision keener than Balamb's best snipers.
The villagers asked her what had happened. She hastily recounted the incident over and over again as new comers joined with fresh ears. Each time her version grew more descriptive with additional developments, making Zyma wonder if she could easily fill in the whole issue of Timber Maniacs for that month.
Under the pressure of the townspeople, including the bartender from Timber Pub who threatened to cut off their alcohol supply unless they apologized to Acma, the bastards finally gave in.
Triumphant, she recited a few more authoritative quotes and expressed her gratitude before parting the crowd. It was then that she visited the florist while Zyma made his way back to the train station.
"What took you so long?"
He feigned annoyance as she handed him the biggest bouquet he'd seen in his life - red roses sprinkled with white wild flowers.
"The florist, oh, she's a true gem. She made sure to explain the meaning of all the flowers to me. Do you know that depending on the birth month and the initial letter of your name, there's a unique theme flower for that? Even for winter months, they've discovered a way to grow certain summer flowers in greenhouses at controlled temperature. How amazing is that? All the girls and moms can decorate their homes and celebrate their special days with the flowers they love. Birthdays, weddings, graduation parties, you name it. All year long. It's May, so she insisted me to take lilies, they symbolize hope and happiness. I told her no, no, my mentor is a sweet son, let's stick to roses instead. Who doesn't like roses? But then, they come with different colors as well. And do you know that you can change colors of white roses by simply dyeing them? It goes like this…"
She rambled on, unaware that he saw through her made-up story. He had to admit she had gotten better at lying, given her nonchalant tone and her ability to fill in any story with 'scientific facts'.
He smiled involuntarily. Taking out a piece of white cloth that he typically used to wrap his blade's handle, he covered the thorns of the biggest rose in the bouquet before giving it to her.
"Thank you. For the trouble."
She happily smiled at his gesture, a radiant yet humble smile that he swore no other woman, no matter how attractive, could match.
Gosh... He loves this weirdo.