Peony Min (blackmagicks) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-03-16 19:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, peony min, toku matsudaira |
Who: Peony & Toku
What: Birthday Sads 2.0
Where: Peony’s quarters
When: Tonight
Rating: PG-ish
Status: Complete
It had been a very long day for Peony. The memorial service had been intended to be small, she was certain -- the Banes family was in a somewhat challenging position in high society, and no doubt many individuals from the nobility had chosen not to attend -- but many of the Fighters’ Guild had made an appearance, and the cathedral had been unexpectedly full in the evening, with stoic-eyed men and women with battle scars and weapon harnesses of all sorts, many of them people that Peony had never seen inside the cathedral before. Family, for many, overruled faith, and guild was family in a very real sense. There had been no body to inter, no visit intended to the Necrohol. After the final words of the requiem mass, she had followed those assembled to the Banes estate, assisting where she could. She had taken a small boy -- Siana’s nephew, she had spoken of him often -- off of his grateful mother’s hands for an hour while she and her relatives were approached by those wishing to express their condolences in hushed voices. She had remained long after the others had gone, wordlessly stepping in to begin cleaning up the food few had touched, putting the boy to bed while Siana’s sister comforted her weeping mother, clasping each adult’s hand in turn at the door with silent compassion in her eyes. What was there to say? The line of duty claimed many, but this not knowing was almost worse. All she could do in the end was impress upon them that they could call upon her at any time before drawing her cloak tightly about her shoulders and making her way back to the Tower in the dark. She did not think to encounter anyone aside from the two night owls who had greeted her in the lobby, but when she appeared at the ninth floor waystone, she realized her fellow council member was standing at her door with a parcel under his arm, looking somewhat perplexed to find her out at such an advanced hour. He tucked the surprise away and offered her a slight bow in greeting. “Good evening, Peony. I had thought to drop by to wish you a happy birthday.” By the way she carried herself, the exhaustion she seemed to project, it had been anything but a happy day for her. There was no need for her to say anything; over the years, he had learned to read her as accurately as she had him. And so, he added, “If you would rather be by yourself, however, I shall leave you be.” Peony’s smile was tired but genuine. “I must admit, I had forgotten,” she said. There had been so many things on her mind that her birthday had somehow slipped by unnoticed. But just as she would never forget the occasion of her former mentor’s birthday, it seemed the same held true of him when it came to her. She approached the door, slipping the key into the lock as she said, “I hope you will come in. I would be pleased to have your company for a brief while.” She was tired, true, but tea with a friend seemed the best way to end a sad night. Quiz trotted out of her darkened living room, clearly cross to have been left alone for the majority of the day, and she relaxed still further as she slipped off her shoes. “My apologies that I am back so late. If you will give me a few minutes, I should be able to find us something to eat.” He slipped in after her, toeing off his sandals and arranging them neatly next to hers. He closed the door behind them and in his tabi padded across to where he knew the tea table to be, to deposit her gift there before he accidentally rattled the contents. “There is no need to apologise.” As she turned on the lights, he saw that his impression of her in the hallway had been correct; she looked quite exhausted. “Allow me to help. It will be easier that way, and you are tired.” She might have refused the offer from almost anyone else -- even tired, her manners were too well-ingrained to ask a guest to work. But in his case, she only answered gratefully, “I would appreciate the assistance.” It would not be the first time they shared a kitchen, even if it would be the first time they shared this kitchen. Fortunately, there were things already prepared, needing little more than heating and arranging upon plates (knowing of today’s schedule, she had taken the time yesterday to ensure she would not go hungry). She began the process of plating their meals, her motions perhaps slightly slower than usual -- but fortunately, habit would take care of ensuring everything found its proper place. “I hope your Sunday was pleasant?” she asked. More pleasant than mine, she did not add, but he would understand the implication, no doubt. He usually understood her even when she said nothing at all. Toku set the kettle to boil, but made no move to take one of the tea sets from their cupboard. The parcel he had brought remained in the living room under Quiz’s watchful eye; he resolved to retrieve it once the food was arranged. They could perhaps put his gift to use instead of one of Peony’s other sets―though it did not escape him that, in his lack of imagination with regards to present-giving, he had over the years ended up being responsible for half the tea accessories in Peony’s possession. “It was indeed. I was able to make some time to visit the big park in the Commoners’ District in the morning. The cherry tree near the fountain at the center of the park is just beginning to bloom.” The weather was still too cold to venture beyond city walls in the morning, and so he made do with the little pockets of nature interspersed throughout the districts. He had considered extending Peony an offer to come along, but had risen even earlier than was his habit and decided she ought to enjoy sleeping in on her birthday. It seemed now, however, that she had done anything but. “I was daring and even switched my communicator off for a few hours,” he said with a soft smile. “I hope it was no inconvenience to you or Merrion. Since I am here now, however, I would be glad to listen to what’s troubling you, if you feel the need to talk.” “No inconvenience,” she assured. “I did the same thing. I will have to apologize to Merrion tomorrow.” Sundays were usually quiet, and she often spent them at church or volunteering, but she attempted to remain accessible. Today had not been a day for guild business, however. “I am not troubled,” she said at last, “or perhaps I should say that I am not more troubled than I have been.” She paused before continuing: “Do you recall my friend from the Knights of the Peace, the one I mentioned vanished during a patrol?” It had come up briefly in a conference, but she had said little about it other than that magic had not, on the surface, been involved. “Her family chose to remember her today,” she finished, just as the food was done and ready to be transported to the table. She carried the plates, one, then the next, leaving chopsticks to Toku. “I spent the evening assisting to the best of my ability. It is a difficult time for them.” Difficult for her, too, but not nearly to the same magnitude. “I see. I am sorry for your loss.” He did recall Peony’s mention of her friend’s disappearance, but it had slipped his mind, like a memo lost in the shuffle of papers. There was little he could offer Peony to comfort her, and so he chose not to try. (He could think only of the stacks of letters inside the bottom drawer of his desk, tied neatly together with care, and never opened. The birthday and anniversary gifts delivered by Masuyo on behalf of his daughter that he had not seen in a decade.) Once the food was arranged on the table in the living room, they both sat down, and Toku lay a hand on the unopened parcel to pick it up. Unbidden, before he could wish her a good end to her day or say anything festive befitting the occasion, words trickled out: “Not knowing is hard. But no matter how much you may wish you did, or hope for closure, there is always the thought that knowing the truth would be so much worse.” His voice sounded foreign to his ears, a stranger speaking one of the truths he cradled closest to his chest. Never had he spoken of such things with anyone but Masuyo, and he had not intended to say those words to Peony, for the last thing she needed at the end of a long and sad day was the tale of an old man’s failure. And so he gave her the ghost of a smile and picked up the parcel, offering it as an unspoken entreaty to swerve away into safer waters. “Happy birthday,” he said. She nodded her head, thinking privately that on this one issue they would have to disagree -- the hope that remained, however small, was a cruel one. But in the end, everyone's circumstances were different. Perhaps Toku, with his personal challenges, wished for ignorance of facts too painful to bear. Peony, however, preferred knowledge; with it came acceptance, and with acceptance, peace. This did not seem the moment to engage in a philosophical discussion, however. Instead, she took the package and said, "Thank you." They were both traditional in their way, But this seemed the moment to deviate -- with a small smile, she asked, "May I?" It did seem as if they could both use the distraction that opening the gift now as opposed to later would provide. He returned her smile and nodded. “Please, go ahead. I am certain you shall be very surprised to see the contents.” “I am certain you are correct,” she replied; from his statement as she accepted the package, she had to assume she already knew exactly what was contained therein. And indeed, when she carefully peeled back the wrapping paper, the package turned out to contain a rather lovely tea set, which explained the weight of the package as well as Toku’s small joke -- this was, after all, not the first nor indeed the second year of such gifts. It was fortunate for both of them that she was indeed inordinately fond of tea; her expression was one of genuine gratitude as she looked up at him and said, “Thank you. It is beautiful. Perhaps we can make use of it this evening, after dinner.” Now that she was home and in good company, some of the weariness had faded away, and she felt much more as though an hour or two with a friend might do her good. “Of course,” he said, smile still lingering. “I am glad you like it.” They turned to the meal before them and talked of unimportant matters, trivial things to take Peony’s mind off her grief and make the end of the evening, at least, more pleasant than the day had been. Toku was relieved to see, as they finished and moved on to tea, that she appeared more cheerful now. He extended the invitation he had not that morning, of visiting the cherry tree once more as soon as their schedules permitted, and she accepted gladly. They had made outings to escape the noise of the city quite regularly during their time as mentor and mentée, and while many of them were but poorly-disguised attempts to sway Peony over to Geomancy, he found he did not mind his failure in that regard. The pleasure of her company would be more than enough. |