Alice's heart was filled with an overwhelming sense of emotion and hope; she had never imagined her journey would come to such a momentous day. The Queen still smiled. "Perhaps our royal hatter could give our champion a tour of Wonderland first?" Alice looked at Tarrant, whose eyes sparkled with countless whimsical ideas. Those eyes, a blend of warmth and madness she was familiar with, shone brightly. "At your service," he said, extending his calloused hand in a somewhat comical manner, a gesture Alice knew well. She took his hand, and with the Queen and the March Hare watching, they left the castle.
The beginning of it all might have been much later than Alice had expected, occurring quietly while she remained oblivious. You see a person, but you don't really see them; they're still in the background, preparing to make their entrance. Or maybe you've noticed them but haven't felt the incredible "spark."
As they stepped out of the castle, Tarrant adjusted his hat and dived forward, "Let's see who runs faster!" His voice faded into the distance. Alice rolled up her light blue summer sleeves, unwilling to be outdone. "Let's give it a try!"
She ran after Tarrant, finding it hard to believe that a hatter who spent most of his time at his desk could outpace the energetic captain. They followed a gravel path through the dark green grass, flanked by towering mushrooms with white caps adorned with red spots, resembling small fairy-tale palaces shrouded in mystery. The summer sky in Wonderland was a deep blue, with flocks of unnamed birds soaring freely, their wings tracing bright, lively trails across the sky. Their feathers, colorful in the sunlight, streaked like dazzling shooting stars, their calls blending into a melody that celebrated the scene.
It was unclear who stopped first, but a collision of red and gold ensued. "Ouch!" A peculiar hat fell from Tarrant's red hair as Alice supported herself on the lawn. She realized some time had passed before she noticed what was troubling her. She had ended up on one knee over Tarrant, whose hat had rolled away, his cheeks now redder, his green eyes looking at her innocently. "Are you going to draw your sword?" Alice realized that her long time at sea had led her to habitually reach for her defensive weapons. She almost revealed her self-defense kit in front of the Wonderland waterfall.
Alice laughed almost to the point of collapse and helped Tarrant up. They sat facing each other, her laughter continuing. He pouted, his cheeks perhaps even redder, and pointed with his chin to the winding path ahead. Turning to Alice, he said, "Look! I brought you here to overlook Wonderland." His voice was soft, tinged with a touch of helplessness.
The scene they had just experienced reappeared, but it was now entirely different from the hurried glance before. Before Alice and Tarrant, the dark green grass spread out like velvet, extending to the horizon. The White Palace had turned into a pattern of regular dots, and the river in the foreground shimmered like a silver thread winding through the green fields. The surface of the water sparkled with silver flecks, as if the earth was whispering softly. On the riverbanks, vibrant flowers bloomed, each with a unique, otherworldly sheen, like jewels kissed by the sun or intricate patterns embroidered on a green carpet.
Tarrant read her thoughts, a mischievous smile crossing his face. What he perhaps longed for was just a touch of reality, a simple handshake.
At dinner in Wonderland, Alice was explaining to her friends how she had negotiated with pirates when she felt Tarrant's gaze fixed on her. She had always been accustomed to conveying the most information in the fewest words, though her language was somewhat exaggerated, making her dear friends think she resembled someone familiar. But at that moment, after finishing her story, she felt a blazing gaze from her left.
Her heart leapt with joy, feeling as if Tarrant was clearly interested in her, that he liked her. However, when she finally turned to face him, their eyes meeting, she saw blue pupils, their gaze cold as glass, guarded, even almost cruel. This left Alice deeply unsettled, and she wondered why she had to endure this torment. Yet she still hoped Tarrant would show her that sly smile again.
That afternoon, Alice accepted Tarrant's invitation to a tea party. As Tarrant listened to Alice explain her story, he struggled to contain his laughter. She joked about how the real world was even stranger than Wonderland, mockingly comparing it to the Red Queen's big head and the White Rabbit's arrogance. Tarrant immediately laughed, catching her humor. Their hearts seemed to walk side by side, always able to guess each other's wordplay, yet only revealing it at the last moment. This made Alice feel an overwhelming sense of compatibility and comfort.
"Tarrant will be a troublesome neighbor," Alice thought. "Maybe I should keep my distance." But she found herself falling for Tarrant's hands, his hat, his shoes untouched by worldly grime, and his eyes—each time they looked at her with another kind of gentle gaze, it seemed to revive forgotten miracles. She always stared at Tarrant, trying to understand why she could never get tired of him. And he felt the same.
There were times when their conversations suddenly paused. Even during shared tea parties, they would avoid each other, exchanging only perfunctory greetings like "hello," "good morning," and "the tea is good today," devoid of any real substance. Then, without explanation, their interactions would return to normal.
"Do you want to go mushroom picking today?" Tarrant asked.
"No, not really," Alice replied.
"Then let's dance," Tarrant suggested, as if all past discomfort and estrangement had never occurred.
Alice felt a pang of sorrow. She wanted to get close to Tarrant, to know what he was thinking, and to be understood by him. She felt anxious around him, afraid of misinterpreting his words, and even more afraid of losing him. It was as if she wrapped herself in layers of curtains, separated from Tarrant by countless layers of gauze. She yearned to get closer but pretended not to care—these feelings had emerged like mushrooms after rain when Tarrant arrived in her summer. These emotions were etched into every Wonderland tea party melody, sealed in every fantastical story she read, and lingered in every lively tea gathering.
For the Mad Hatter Tarrant Hightopp, Alice Kingsley's presence seemed to paint his life with an indelible hue. He also wanted to know what this unworldly girl was thinking.