"Di-Di! Di-Di, look!" Apollon nearly shouted, bouncing around to the back of the booth, and skidding through the snow.

Dionysus shifted his gaze only slightly, keeping his focus primarily on the task before him. It wasn't the first time his brother had interrupted him, and it wouldn't be the last, although this was certainly the most energetic one yet. "What's up?"

His entire body radiated with pride at his acknowledgment, grabbing his most recent artwork. Snow crunched into slush beneath the weight of his cart. Its heavy occupant rocked unevenly when it came to a stop, standing tall and proud, towering over its creator. Dionysus could only stare for a moment. His brain wasn't entirely processing the sight. "Wow. That's really… something…"

"Isn't it wonderful?!"

"Wonderful isn't the word I would use."

Apollon deflated with a pout, crossing his arms. "You're so mean, Di-Di."

"I'm just being honest. Those things are terrifying, there's no way they're gonna sell," he muttered.

"You'll see, Di-Di. You'll definitely see." He accentuated his retort with another loud crunch as he pushed his creation to join the others. When he returned, he found his brother diligently back to work, pressing and squeezing the frozen grapes with careful precision. "Oh! You're making wine, Di-Di? That's great! That's really great!"

"Not just any wine," he muttered, checking the consistency. "Ice wine."

"Oh, oh! Is it cold?!' he asked.

"Ideally. It is best served chilled, yes, but that's not what it means." Dionysus frowned, giving the liquid another gentle shake. It still wasn't settling quite right. "Ice wine is unique. See, freezing the grapes separates the water inside the fruit from the sugars. So, when pressed, it makes a stronger concentration."

"So, it's sweet?"

"…Yes, Apollon. It's really sweet." He offered an amused smile, pressing another sample. It was better this time, but not quite right. The color was off; he could probably make it a little sweeter. Once he found just the right levels, he would accelerate the fermentation process. A little divine intervention. It was going surprisingly well for his first attempt. He had never had the opportunity, the climate in Olympus was too temperate.

A few quiet moments passed them by, the ambient sounds of the bustling students surrounding them. Apollon was the one to break the silence, his words oddly tempered. Almost as though he was nervous. "Di-Di… I'm pretty sure Siren likes Loki-Loki… you know that, right?"

That got his attention. Dionysus stopped his motions for a moment in genuine surprise. Both his boldness and his insight; he certainly hadn't expected either one. Of course, he was fully aware of Nari's feelings. He just didn't know Apollon had realized it too. Shaking his head, he smiled again. "Just a Christmas gift, Apollon. Nothing more."

His brother beamed, seemingly relieved. Perhaps he had been concerned for him. Apollon was sweet that way. "Well, anyway, I need to get back to it. Gotta make a bunch of these for the Market!"

"Knock yourself out," he replied, though he was sure he hadn't heard him. The sun god had already been in motion calling back to him. It was always fun watching Apollon once he set his mind on something. It was amazing to see his tenacity; he was fiercely determined when he put his mind to something. Or maybe he was just too dense to give in. Either way, it kept a smile on his face, so he wouldn't complain.

If only the same could be said about his other classmate.

Dionysus genuinely had good intentions when he encouraged her that night. In their hot spring heart-to-heart, he was hoping to give her a little push. The tiniest nudge to help her take that final step toward happiness. Yet somehow, between that evening and the day that followed, the two had once again found themselves at odds. And though Nari would never admit it, he knew what was really bothering her. But he wouldn't press it for fear of worsening fresh wounds. What exactly had gone wrong was a mystery. Had Loki rejected her? He sincerely doubted it; it seemed highly unlikely. But then again, with that indecisive god, just about anything was possible.

A flash of red caught his attention, pulling it from his task. There, wandering through the snowy streets was the very god he had been pondering. The first thing he noticed was his gait. Loki typically flitted around with glee, his movements almost fairy-like. Today, his movements were slow, almost sluggish, hands in his pockets and eyes staring blankly forward. Certainly, a far cry from what he would expect of someone who had turned down another.

It was almost as though all the life had been sucked right out of him. He should have felt sorry for the man, honestly, but he couldn't bring himself to. If anything, he only felt agitated. It was aggravating, watching their back and forth. Hot and cold, love and hate, round, and round with no end in sight. The only thing more frustrating than their on-again, off-again, love affair was their utter obliviousness to all of it. It just didn't make any sense. He liked her. She liked him. Dionysus saw it. The other gods saw it. Hell, even Apollon saw it.

So, why couldn't they?

His aggravation reached boiling point, watching the Norse god come dangerously close to igniting another pair of students. Unable to remain idle any longer, he placed his bottle back in his hidden compartment, and made his way into the street.

. . .

At long last, Balder had calmed. With the Christmas Market around the corner, his focus was temporarily drawn to their booth. The lack of Yui's presence aided in this; she had become engrossed in her own project following their late-night conflict. With the drama over for the time being, Loki kept to himself. The events of the past couple of weeks had exhausted him, and now he had been given a rare reprieve. All things considered; he should have been relieved to finally get some much-needed rest.

Yet, he wasn't.

With the younger sister safe from Balder's attentions for the time being, Loki was looking forward to finally turning his own on the older one. And that was precisely what he would have been doing, had he been able to find her. He hadn't seen her since the other day, wandering off to collect decorations per her sibling's request. A sarcastic hand wave and a retreat was the last he'd seen of her.

She had become a phantom. Her visits to the music room were scarce, and the dance studio nonexistent. She wasn't in the library, the art rooms, nor anywhere on the grounds. She had already left her room by the time he arrived in the morning, and she was asleep by the time he returned. And the last thing he wanted to do was her up, knowing how little sleep Nari got on a general basis.

He was beginning to wonder at this point if she was simply avoiding him. It was certainly possible, but he couldn't even begin to imagine why. As far as he was aware, the two were amicable. Their last interaction was civil and their conversation pleasant. Perhaps, if he could be so bold, he may say friendly. Whatever tension had existed between them previously, he had assumed it resolved. Thus, he'd presumed that now, with some free time, and the two on better terms, he could finally converse with her.

Apparently, he had been wrong.

His fingers drummed against the piano lid in the music room, his eyes staring absently at the floor. A quick glance at the wall signaled afternoon. The hands were in a noticeably different place than when he arrived. How long he had been sitting there was a mystery to him. But it was no matter. Nari wasn't coming. That much was clear. A fact that disappointed him almost as much as it frustrated him. Hopping up from the seat, he made his way to the doorway and strolled out into the hall with a heavy huff.

Loki couldn't help but chuckle bitterly to himself at the irony of the entire situation. It had been only days since his argument with the god of light; an argument born of his infatuation with the younger Kusanagi sister. For all the grief he gave him for his obsession, here he was doing the same. Was he really any better than Balder? As his mind drifted once more to that familiar face, he decided pointedly that he was not. Rather, it was the absolute height of hypocrisy.

He couldn't get the thoughts out of his mind. Of her piercing gaze. Her lips. Her smile. The feel of her body against his own, strong yet soft, and always so cool. Their times together in the classroom. In the drunk's garden. In her bedroom. Beneath the mistletoe. Yes, Loki was no better than his companion. He was arguably far worse. At least Balder was honest about it. His feet paused at the entrance to the lunchroom, eyes glancing over the room for a head of blue hair. He didn't find one. Aggravated, he continued on his way toward the grounds.

This was driving him crazy. If he didn't do something soon, Balder would be the least of his concerns. Never mind Yui threatening the balance, Nari was threatening his sanity. Images of her continuously invaded his mind, stirring thoughts and feelings thought long hidden. And the longer he remained apart from her, the stronger those feelings became. In his head, he wondered just what the hell was wrong with him. Why he couldn't keep himself straight. Part of him knew the answer; one he stubbornly refused to acknowledge. Refused to give credence.

Until now.

And that realization left him with a choice. To turn around, return to his dorm, and leave the situation as it was. Or, he could find her, waiting in her room for her return if he must, and demand to know what had changed. The correct option was obvious. Or it would have been, were his heart so cooperative.

Wandering around in between the booths, he ran over the last few days. Over and over, he replayed the memories, trying to figure out exactly when things could have gone wrong. With every iteration, he grew more frustrated; reaching fever pitch as a familiar voice began to overlay. That voice, speaking so firmly against the fire, so stoic. And by the third repetition, he wanted to sigh, now being forced to face the reality that perhaps Thor had been right — Loki hated when he was right — from the beginning.

Maybe he should have just explained the situation from the start. Had he just been honest with her, maybe all of this trouble could have been avoided. Nari wouldn't be avoiding him like some sort of evil presence, and he would be standing there in the middle of the street, staring mindlessly at a wooden booth. He could be spending this time by her side rather than his lonesome. If he had only been forthright, then maybe…

"I'm sorry."

The words were taken right out of his mind, spoken into reality through a voice not his own. Confused, he shifted his gaze, taking note of a nearby pair of academy students. They were standing off to the side alongside of the one of the booths; a Japanese pair, as it were. The woman crossed her arms and huffed, her eyes holding a familiar discontent that he had come to associate with a very particular Japanese student. It piqued his curiosity, a brief distraction from his thoughts.

Being the mischievous — not to mention nosy — god that he was, Loki listened in, watching their little lover's quarrel play out. The story was an unimaginative one, borderline cliché. During their work on their booth, the student had caught her companion staring at another woman. The result had apparently led to this current falling out, with the woman deeply upset and the other asking for forgiveness, vowing to never do it again. It was a scene straight out of a drama, in real form; and yet another chilling reminder of how lifelike those doll creatures were. He faded out partway through the conversation, missing some crucial details, but in the end, the pair reconciled, with the two strolling away hand in hand.

A happy ending for the doll couple. How lovely. How sweet.

…It sickened him. The sight agitated him so much, he contemplated chucking a bomb at them, if only to ruin the moment for his own enjoyment. Petty? Certainly. Immature? Without a doubt. But it would make him feel better; messing with their little moment since he'd been denied his own. It was the girl's widened smile, however, that made him think twice. A glimpse of such happiness. And by the time he had finished that second guess, they were rounding onto a separate street. A small grumble was his response, begrudgingly accepting his loss. Probably for the best. It wasn't their fault their story had seemingly had a happy ending, when his own was so turbulent. That his own love interest — classmate — it seemed, was far less forgiving.

Even so…

"Poseidon's trident, just talk to her."

Loki nearly leapt into the air at the sound of a voice; one of the very last ones he expected. And one that sent him almost instinctively into a mild rage. Spinning around, he found himself staring back into a pair of emerald eyes looking almost as exasperated as he felt. What in the hell was the drunk doing there? Why was he talking to him? If he knew what was good for him, he would back away or risk losing those sculpted eyebrows. Despite the various thoughts rushing through his mind however, the only word he was able to mutter was…

"What?" Dionysus rolled his eyes — he was definitely exasperated at that point — before leaning against the side of a wooden booth. The Greek's booth. That answered at least one question.

Loki's blank stare threatened to pull another roll of his eyes, clearly having no clue what he was talking about. A fact that tried even his patience. Minding his own business, he had been in the process of pressing his frozen grapes in a hidden area behind his booth — a side project he planned to unveil for the festival — when he noticed a head of flaming hair wandering through the streets. Between the fact that he was alone, along with the fact that Nari had been in a decidedly foul mood as of late, it wasn't difficult to put two and two together.

Initially, he was going to ignore him. He had about as much interest in interacting with Loki as he was sure he had in doing the same. But the faraway look in his eyes and vacant stare — evidenced by the fact that he had wandered all the way over to the Greeks — gave him pause. He was clearly out of it, and possibly deep in thought. When his face twisted into a fearsome glare with a gaze that threatened to burst those two academy students into flame, he knew he had to intervene. His body mimicked that of the female student, arms crossing over his chest with a huff. "Just talk to her," he repeated. "It's obvious you want to, so just get on with it."

There was a moment of silence. Loki stood stunned, unsure whether to balk or snarl. He had no idea how the other god had managed to read him so readily, nor was he happy about it. Now agitated, his mind quickly decided on the latter, with eyes narrowing to match. "Perhaps you should stick to your own business. I would hate to —"

"Just stop it." Dionysus waved him off, his reply stopping him in its tracks. Whether it was his utter disbelief or confusion that quieted him, he wasn't sure. And after a two-second reboot, he opened his mouth for another attempt. He shut him down again, shifting his tone to one more incredulous than upset. "I have no idea what happened this time, but enough is enough. Fotia's been sulking around for the past couple of days, and the only person on the campus more miserable than she is, is you."

"Wha —"

"Honestly, I just don't get you two. I have no idea how you keep this up all the time, just watching you two is exhausting."

There was another moment of pause. Dionysus said his piece and Loki was just perplexed. First, he was confident that that was the most words the two had spoken to each other since their arrival. Second, he had seen right through him, read him like a book, then slammed it shut before he could even come up with a proper retort. Third, Loki just wasn't sure what to make of the situation. If he was being perfectly honest, he had always viewed the drunk as… a drunk. And an imbecile. Apparently, Loki wasn't the only one good at keeping people fooled.

That alone garnered at the very least a little respect. Without another option, he dropped the act. "Puppy is… sulking?"

"She always sulks when you guys fight. It was the first tip-off that something was wrong," he responded with a shrug.

That came as a genuine surprise. The idea of Nari sulking was shocking enough. He genuinely saw Nari most of the time as Takeru in human form. Anger and amusement were the only emotions he ever saw on her face, aside from the rare moment of happiness with her sister. Sulking implied she really did have a wider range of emotions than a goldfish. Who knew. "…I don't know where she is," he muttered.

"At the moment, I'm not sure… we were hanging out on the roof earlier, but she ran off again saying something about a wardrobe."

"A… wardrobe?"

"Yup. Didn't question it. She does it a lot these days. I assume it has something to do with the festival."

"Oh."

Of course. Not a wardrobe; her wardrobe. Nari was referring to her costumes for the performance. With her concert in a couple of days' time, she was probably finalizing her set. It explained why she had been so difficult to find; she had likely been spending her time working with her staff and hiding behind her bodyguards — when she wasn't talking to Dionysus, apparently. She wasn't avoiding the music room. She was simply finished with her sessions. Had he been misinterpreting her actions all this time? Was Nari really just… busy? What on earth was that girl planning? And more importantly… "Wait, why tell me any of this? Why help me?"

Dionysus gave a heavy sigh. "I'm not helping you. I'm helping her. The Kusanagi sisters, they're good people. And Nari's had a rough time of it. At the very least, she deserves some happiness… and for whatever strange reason, she finds that with you."

"…"

"Look, just… just talk to her and fix this, alright? It's obvious you both want to." He turned back toward his booth, pausing for a moment. "From what she tells me her tomorrow is her last day of preparations. You can probably find her then."

Loki watched him walk away, returning to his booth where his brother was frantically lining up massive rows of something. That was the only thought he gave to it, instead focusing his attention on more important matters. He wasn't inclined to believe the drunk, though he had never given him a reason not to. Dionysus had no reason to lie. He had nothing to gain, and if his words were truthful about her feelings for him, then if anything, he had something to lose. It wasn't every day a rival offered to help their competition.

Turning away, he slowly made his way down the snowy path, letting the other man's words sink in. For whatever strange reason, she finds that with you. The words brought him far more relief than they should have. It made him question the possibilities. Made his spirits lift and hardened his resolve. Made him wonder, if only for a moment, if finding his own happiness with her were possible. You have to forgive yourself. Was it possible…? He wasn't sure. He wasn't even sure what he wanted. But there was one thing he did know.

Enough was enough.