Reflections

Osvald groaned and rolled over the next morning. He was vaguely aware of somehow making it back to the inn, though he was lying on top of the bedsheets and wrapped in a blanket that certainly hadn't come from the inn... The next thing he was vaguely aware of was Hikari's voice in the background and the room's door opening and closing.

After a few more seconds, Osvald managed to stumble out of bed. He could process the details later. For now, he washed his face and took several long drinks of water. His head was still pounding, and he looked rather awful. Ugh, this was why he never drank. Too debilitating, too embarrassing.

But...still...yesterday had been...

Osvald shook his head and walked back into the bedroom. He sighed and sat down on the bed. How much had he drank last night? Did he even want to know?

He must've pondered this for several minutes, since the next thing Osvald was aware of was the door opening again. Castti entered the room, smiling sympathetically as she held out a mug of coffee.

"Here," she offered. "Hikari came to fetch me, and I thought it a good idea to bring you something."

Osvald hesitantly accepted the mug. "...Unnecessary, but thank you."

He was...starting to recover, after all. Still, Osvald would never complain about a mug of coffee. Especially when said coffee was actually pretty decent, and not too sweet. He took a few long sips, downing most of the coffee before setting the mug down on the side table.

"I'm fine," he said after a moment.

Castti raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? I can at least mix you up something for a headache if you need it."

Her tone was that of a gentle scolding rather than one of annoyance. Osvald couldn't help shaking his head (perhaps a bit too quickly) and glancing away, however.

"I already had some water, and the coffee helped."

Castti studied him for several seconds, and then she sat down on the opposite bed. An...odd action, Osvald thought. He couldn't help looking back at her, pondering what the point of her visit was.

Then, she said a little abruptly, "Tell me about your wife, Osvald."

He raised both eyebrows. "Now?"

Castti simply replied, "Yes," still with a rather odd look on her face.

Osvald swallowed and glanced down at his hands. What was he even supposed to say? Why was she asking now? Yesterday had been bad enough, but...to think about Rita again...

Well, maybe if he just humored her a little, she'd drop the topic and leave. Maybe. Hopefully.

"...Rita was a little like you, I suppose," he finally said. "Very patient. Very gentle. But she could stand up for herself when she needed to. And an apothecary, too."

Castti hummed sympathetically and nodded, as if suddenly a lot of things made sense. Osvald looked away, suddenly hoping that he hadn't said anything stupid to her about Rita yesterday while he'd been drunk. And yet, he knew he must have; why else would she be here now?

"She sounds very lovely," Castti replied gently.

Osvald swallowed. "She was."

"And quite lucky."

"Lucky," Osvald repeated blankly. "How so?"

"It's too bad you couldn't see your face just now, Osvald. I rarely see you smile so much. You really must've cared for her."

Had he been smiling? Osvald supposed he'd felt a bit lighter, as he'd always felt around Rita. But...

"Simply because I said one nice thing?"

"And how you said it." Castti sounded distinctly amused. "Besides, I know you never say things unless you mean them."

Well, yes. But even so... Osvald shook his head, absently rubbing his hands together. Even if he was assuming correctly, he still didn't understand why Castti had to come here now and...

"Why are you asking me this?" Osvald finally blurted out.

Castti got up and sat down beside him. Osvald was too surprised to do anything other than blink stupidly at her when she patted him on the arm.

"It's not healthy to bottle up your thoughts, you know," she mused. "Surely you see the logic in that? Or at least that talking is better than drinking your feelings away."

Again, it was a patient, almost sad kind of correction rather than an angry one. And yet she was still pushing him to do better. Osvald knew, on a basic level, that she was at least correct on the drinking. But how was he even supposed to discuss something like that in the first place?

He had no idea, and yet, somehow, with the earnest but pushing way Castti was looking at him, he almost wished he knew how.

"I know," Osvald admitted, reluctantly.

They sat there in silence for a few seconds. Castti's hand remained on his arm, and Osvald didn't push her away. For a brief second, Osvald's hand flickered upwards. Castti watched it, amused, and Osvald glanced aside as it briefly rested atop hers. Then, after just a moment, Osvald's hand fell back to the bed, as if the whole thing hadn't happened.

What had come over him? Why the sudden bizarre urge for contact? It felt tasteless and unnecessary on multiple levels, but...

Gods, why did she have to be so much like Rita? From her patient, motherly nature to the way she was looking at him right now... All of it was just...

It was too much. It stirred some strange feeling within him that Osvald genuinely couldn't name.

"I know it's difficult for you to speak so much in general," Castti said, her voice suddenly breaking the moment. "But perhaps you can at least consider bending our ears more often, then?"

"...Perhaps," he mumbled.

"I will leave these here if you need them. Just...please keep in mind what I've said."

She reached into her satchel and pulled out a few herbs. Osvald said he didn't need anything. And yet, after all that, it felt wrong to refuse them. And so he simply nodded as Castti set them down on the nightstand next to the coffee mug.

Before she stood up, Osvald looked away and rested his hand on Castti's arm. He didn't dare look at her face, but he heard the faintly-amused noise she made.

"Yes, Osvald?"

"...Thank you."

That was all he could say, but it had been genuine. Castti reached up and patted his hand, leaving hers atop his for several long seconds. He knew she appreciated the thanks, coming from him, and she knew that a simple gesture was enough to show that she understood. But then she finally pulled back, and Osvald didn't have the chance to process whatever shift he'd just felt between them.

"Please take care of yourself, Osvald," she said, gently but firmly. "I...all of us want you to be careful."

"...I'll try. You..." Osvald swallowed again. "To keep you from worrying."

Castti laughed, covering her mouth, clearly amused by the slip-ups from both of them. And yet, fortunately, she didn't comment on that, either. Instead, she simply turned and walked back out of the room.

Something had...happened. Osvald wasn't sure what. He didn't need any lectures. Or at least, he thought he hadn't. And it was simply Castti's job to look after the physical wellbeing of those around her.

But somehow Osvald had actually started to care about all of their traveling companions (gods damn it, Clarissa was right; he was getting "more agreeable"). And somehow, the scolding from Castti specifically, and the bare concern, and the brief but pleasant physical contact...

Somehow, it reminded Osvald of something he hadn't felt in a very long time, and perhaps, just for her, he didn't mind. And he didn't think Castti minded, either.

Perhaps someday he'd be comfortable enough to say so, but for the time being, Osvald held the odd warmth in his chest, deciding to quietly let it grow and see what happened from there.