Written for Shipping Week
Prompt: macrosmatic
Pairing: Siffrin/Isabeau
You did it again. You forgot a basic word for something, and now Bonnie is yelling at you for your stupidity. Not that you're really listening to them right now. Your senses are being assaulted by a rancid odor wafting from across the field. The smell is so horrible it's giving you a headache.
Stars, what is that? Why can't you remember the word for that either? It's one of those animals with a stripe down its back. Mirabelle opened the window in the clocktower to let in some of the cool evening air, and now it feels like you're going to be sick.
"Hey, Sif, you okay there, little buddy?" Isabeau turns to you with a look of concern.
With both hands over your nose, you immediately nod. Yes, you're fine. You've been telling them that for so long now it's just automatic. No need to worry! It's just some stupid, smelly animal making its nightly rounds and -
"Frin looks like he's gonna puke!" Bonnie shouts, pointing at you.
Urgh... Maybe you shouldn't have eaten all that macaroni and cheese. It tasted so good during the previous loop, you just had to eat some more of it. And now this. Of course, it's punishment for your greed, your selfishness, trying to manipulate your friend as usual.
With a heavy sigh, Odile adjusts her glasses and asks Mirabelle to please close the window. Maybe the others haven't noticed the smell coming from outside, but she certainly has.
"Come now, Isabeau, you know how macrosmatic he is," Odile stated in her usual bland monotone. "There's something out there. And while I can only catch the slightest whiff of the aroma, it must be overwhelming for Siffrin."
Right. Odile notices everything. Nothing ever slips past her.
It takes Isabeau a moment for everything to click. "Oh yeah, I know what you're talking about! Like the time Siffrin could smell those croissants halfway down the street and acted like he was going to throw up!"
"But what is that?" you ask, turning your attention to the window. "It's... it's..." Stars, what do they call it? You're desperately reaching, searching your mind for that one word that escapes your memory. "It's a fart squirrel!"
Bonnie suddenly bursts out laughing. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you watch them topple over onto their back, laughing uproariously.
"Fart squirrel?" Isabeau echoes. Even Mirabelle, who got up and closed the window, places a delicate hand over her mouth to stifle a fit of giggles.
"I believe the word you're looking for is skunk, Siffrin," Odile gently corrects.
Oh yeah, skunk. Yeah, you knew that all along! Sure, you did.
"I like fart squirrel better," Bonnie chimes in, tears of mirth rolling down their cheeks. "Can we start calling it that from now on? Hahaha fart squirrel! Fart squirrel!"
Glancing over from beneath the brim of your hat, you notice Isabeau tap Bonnie on the shoulder. After a moment they nod, offering him a bottle of ginger juice. For just a moment, a solitary second in this neverending repetition of fate, you feel your spirits lift. You didn't do anything to force or control his actions this time. You don't even feel like you deserve this. And yet when Isabeau turns to you with a comforting smile, offering the ginger to ease the nausea in your belly, you accept his gift, muttering a word of thanks before taking a sip.