[PP-F1] Flights of Fancy

[Mishiro 0]

February 14, 2023

Claude    --interlude: philia

In the stillness of the moonlit hall, the performer turned to her enamored audience of one.
"What did you dream of?"

An amaranth blossoming in the moonlight.
"I thought of you."

He awoke to the scent of flowers and a melody playing by his ear; soft, cold, and gentle, like watching snowflakes fall from the night sky. February's winter chill lingered in the air, but the fluffy blanket on his shoulders enclosed him in warmth. A sigh escaped from his lips. This was nice. Moments of peace were sparse among the chaos of the past four months, so when they came, they were greatly appreciated. He kept his eyes closed and buried his head deeper in his arms. If the Suite bergamasque was lulling him back to sleep, then the faint scraping sound from the corner of the room - like metal sliding slowly across metal - was grating against the back of his mind and pulling him back through the veil of consciousness.

--And he remembered that song and a pianist's slender hands gliding over ivory keys, and it ripped through whatever sense of calm that had briefly overtaken him.

Claude lifted his head. He took note of the scented candle he didn't light and the blanket at his shoulders, then of the figure by his window.

With one curtain already drawn, the small girl gently pulled on the other. She had left her shoes by the door as she was accustomed to and was dressed almost entirely in white. With sharp gray eyes narrowed in concentration, the girl looked up at the curtain rod above her head. Standing on tiptoes, she carefully tugged on the curtain again and it moved with the quiet but noticeable sound from earlier. She paused when it moved with less sound than before, and he already knew she was trying to remember what she did so she could replicate that same process.

He smiled despite himself.

Pure, delicate, quiet. Like she would break apart at a touch - and she almost did once. Mira Gonzales reminded him of snowflakes.

But more importantly, what was she doing here at four-something in the morning?!

"Shiromi..?"

She froze. And Claude considered that maybe calling out to her was a bad idea. He could see it in the dismay that took hold of her expression when she turned to him and resignedly loosened her hold on the cloth.

"Did I wake you?"

White light slipped through the gap in the curtains and spilled into the room, shining down on her as she took a small step forward. 

It did not look like it was four-something in the morning.

"You weren't coming down for breakfast, so I went over to check," she continued. "Go back to sleep if you like. It's best to take advantage of this rest day and recover your energy. I believe that's also what Leah said yesterday." Crossing her arms, she leaned back against the window and glanced at him. "Though I think it would be more comfortable if you moved over to the bed."

It was really not four-something in the morning. Sitting up straight, his gaze flicked down to the bottom-left field of his UI. 12:30 PM, and Mira probably had breakfast alone on his one rest day. He expected a scolding, or a light jab at his sleeping habits. That was what she always did whenever she went over to wake him up a year ago - before SAO, before her accident. But there was none and only a thinly-veiled expression of concern, and it felt wrong.

 "It's okay. Oversleeping is bad too, you know? Any longer and I would've waken up with a headache." Claude quickly assured with a smile. He turned away from her and muted the crystal. "Sorry, did you want to do something today? Or do you already have plans with someone? That's good, too. You know, I noticed you've been out more often lately." 

Mira moved over to sit at the edge of his bed and swung her legs in an almost childish fashion. "I don't have any plans." -- And Claude felt really bad for whichever poor guy had a crush on her this time, if there were any, 'cause she barely even paused to think. -- "And considering how you were in the middle of your yearly routine of taking out your frustrations on cleaning, you don't have any either. That makes the 25th year in the row. Congratulations, you are now at the silver anniversary of having no date on Valentine's Day."

And Claude felt bad for himself 'cause that one went straight for the heart, where the hell did his cute, innocent Mira learn to say such things with a straight face -

"I- I just didn't have any time, okay?!"

"Mhm. You have another year. Do your best, Roman. I'm cheering on you."

She encouraged. In a flat tone. As she disinterestedly picked up a dungeon map and its attached guide from the stack on the floor and began to leaf through its pages.

Yeah, okay.

"That aside..."

Loath he was to admit, she wasn't wrong. He had gotten up early to tidy up his place... only to nod off halfway through. Even with SAO's magic unlimited inventory system, he kept most of his belongings manifested in his inn room. Some of Mira's sketches were pinned up on the wall, various vanity trinkets he hadn't disposed of yet were stored in the drawer, the guild's paperwork in cardboard boxes and his desk, and a statuette Leah had given him for Christmas along with a few others on the bedside table. In contrast, Mira left her room mostly bare with the only personal touches being a panda plush on her bed and her sketchpad and notebooks stacked neatly on her desk - and last he saw of it, she didn't even hang her clothes in the closet. 

"Were you doing this all morning? You didn't have to, you know..." Or she could have just woken him up. Claude had noticed how she had already finished half of the clean-up for him, leaving the mess of drafted floor guides, dungeon maps, and paperwork stacked on the floor. And he could only attribute that to her not knowing what to do with it. He went over and ruffled her hair fondly. "That's really nice of you. Thanks. But seriously, wake me up next time, alright?"

He thought he saw her turn a slight shade of red, but she only nodded quietly. 

"How about this?" Mira held up the dungeon map in her hands. "Tell me how it should be ordered and I'll help."

It was Valentine's Day. She should really be doing something else other than being cooped up inside for the rest of the afternoon.

"I think we've done enough for now. How about we leave that for later and head down for some lunch?"

It really didn't need much consideration. Mira nodded quietly and placed the map down on the bed. 

"Before we head out..." She stopped him before he could say anything else. Mira procured a small cellophane pouch wrapped in a red ribbon from her inventory. Chocolates, he quickly realized. They were bite-sized and came in different cute shapes that were typical of Mira's usual Valentine's chocolates. She stood and presented her gift to him with a sincere smile. "Leah helped me make it. Happy Valentine's Day, Roman. Please take care of me for another year, okay?"

He returned her smile.

"That really goes without saying already but for the sake of formalities, please take care of me for another year too, okay?"

He took the chocolates from her hand, but unexpectedly, she leaned forward. Instinctively, he stiffened as she pressed against his chest and wrapped her arms around him, but quickly relaxed and held her close. It was warm and soft, and she didn't hold him tightly - it was more like she was barely there. He pulled her closer and his hand rested against the back of her head. It felt... nice.

Claude pulled away.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower. Head downstairs and grab me the usual, alright?" He took another few steps back to allow her some space. "Thanks for the help today, but no offense, I hope it'll be different next year."

"That's what you say every year." 

Mira stopped by his closet to pull out one of his smaller coats and shut the door behind her quietly.

Left in the silence of his own room, Claude stared vacantly at his desk. He took the recording crystal and absentmindedly turned it over in his hands. It had the appearance of the typical store-bought recording crystal, with the only difference being the engraving of a black phoenix on one of its sides. He hovered over the option to unmute it. Seconds ticked by. Then he tore his gaze from the options and dropped the crystal in his shared inventory with Mira where it would hopefully be buried underneath his candle collection, never to be seen again.

The melody still lingers.

Spoiler

@Pinball bcoz this lovely ship needs some more shippy moments that are not angst justification.

A Valentine's Day thread, but it's June?! (No, I totally did not delay this thing for four months only to decide it's important after. Nooope. Definitely not!)

 

Edited June 13, 2019 by Mishiro

[Pinball 1]

Even from inside his own room,  he heard their voices traveling down the hall. The door shutting behind them. Their footsteps, marching in unison, carrying them out of the inn and farther out into the wilderness of the floor than Pinball would ever really want to be. 

He was alone. Pale light streamed through the single, poorly shuttered window in his room; and while it wasn't enough to properly illuminate his surroundings, it must have been deliberately angled to wake him up in the morning. 

Which, for lack of better words, sucked. 

Pinball groaned and brought his arm up to his eyes, reaching around the bed for his sheets but finding nothing. He must have kicked them off the side of the cot when he was asleep - and when he leaned over to try and feel for it on the floor, he fell over. 

The room was minimalistic in design and in furnishing - but not by choice. There was a small bed, a window, a desk, a chair, and a basin situated in the corner with a mirror affixed to the wall above it. Pinball sighed and pushed himself to his feet. His dagger was laid across the desk, along with a pouch of col carrying the meager sum of money he had made yesterday picking herbs and the sort. 

Maybe it was just a force of habit, but he felt gross without washing up in the morning. There were no baths in the inn, but he figured a quick splash of water should wash more than suffice in washing away what he was feeling. So he took a seat in front of the sink, brought the water up to his face and washed away. 

He wiped his eyes and met his own gaze in his reflection, water dripping from his chin and the ends of his hair. 

He didn't feel any different. 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

It took him all of ten seconds to get dressed and about five minutes to teleport to the First Floor. He pulled his jacket tight around his shoulders as he walked down the frosty, cobbled streets. There was no snow, but there was a moody grey overcast and a not-so-pleasant chill to boot. 

That didn't stop the couples. 

Everywhere around him, people were kissing and hugging and holding hands. Street vendors sold boquets of flowers, flower crowns, and corsages that all somehow managed to stay alive in spite of the weather. Any other day, it'd make him sort of happy - these people and these flowers, no matter how emotionally and physically challenged they were, found light even in the darkest of places. 

Kind of sweet. 

Kind of gross. 

Pinball didn't even get love. What was the point of all that? It seemed like a hassle, more than anything. He didn't even understand what she saw in that guy. 

With a huff, an indignant Pinball turned his head away from a particularly chatty group of players ahead of him. He told himself he didn't want to keep walking, but he was really only trying to avoid walking down the same street as other people. It made him nervous. 

So he put his shoulder up to a door and pushed inside of the first building he saw.

[Mishiro 0]

Alone at a table for four. Even though they no longer had much of a need for two extra seats, they continued claiming it out of habit. She thought that if she looked hard enough, she could almost see a girl with freshly-dyed hair seated at her usual place beside the chair directly across her. Then she blinked and it was gone. The empty seat beside her told another story. It was left vacant for friends who sometimes joined their meals though their newly-appointed guild leader had been occupying it more often recently. Leah had come by earlier, but she left as soon as she finished her breakfast. 

 

Off to spend Valentine's with her husband, the woman had declared in a more subdued voice than usual as she left for the Monument of Life.

 

Mishiro rested her elbow on the table and lightly tapped her pen against its wooden surface. In front of her, a newly-bought sketchpad with a hard cover lay open to a half-inked drawing of a ferret. Staring aimlessly down at the paper, she tugged on the edge of her white coat sleeve and tried to decide which lines to fill in next as she waited. Tap, tap, tap. She only shifted her position when the NPC innkeeper approached her table and served her lunch. Two plates of dumplings, salad, and udon with accompanying curry broth. And it refilled her vanilla latte. 

 

She didn't start yet. Mishiro wasn't hungry, but she knew Roman disliked it when he was the only one eating at the table.

 

"Put it on Claude's tab," she told the NPC simply. 

 

Though it usually became a lively place at lunch hour, the inn was empty today. She could only attribute it to today being Valentine's Day and the streets outside being lined with special vendors and festivities. Players milled about the streets with their friends or partners. While she would never have any gratitude towards the game for making this day feel a bit more special, she was glad many were finding their reasons to smile today. 

 

The door swung open and Mishiro raised her head, expecting to see one of the other lodgers step through the entryway. What she least expected, however, was the boy she had met one month ago standing by the door with an expression she couldn't decipher. They had talked a few more times after their initial meeting and he knew where she lived, after walking her home once. It made sense, but a part of her simply assumed he would be spending time with someone else. 

 

Mishiro set down her cup of hot chocolate and regarded him with thinly-veiled curiosity.

 

"...Hello."

Edited July 24, 2019 by Mishiro

[Pinball 1]

"Uh. Hey." 

Alone at a table for four was exactly the person he had wanted to see. He just didn't know he'd wanted to. While they'd only just barely talked, he felt this weird sort of lingering attachment to her; like there was some invisible force gently pushing him forward, ever forward, trying to get him to open up to her just a little bit and to see what happens when he did. Would she laugh? Would she be weirded out? Would she leave him for someone else like the person he'd considered to be his one true friend? 

Would he step out of the doorway and stop staring at her? 

Pinball felt a tap on his shoulder. There were people waiting behind him to get in. "Oh, uh, sorry about that," he quickly mumbled, holding the door open for them and stepping off to the side. He glanced over at Mishiro with a sheepish smile as they made their way indoors. After the door closed, cutting off the draft of cold air, Pinball took a few steps over but didn't quite walk up to the table just yet. The awkwardness in his voice and in his body language was palpable. 

"Hey," he said again, "what're you up to-?" 

[Mishiro 0]

There he remained by the doorway - frozen, as if he'd just woken up from a trance, and equally unsure. She thought it resembled the expression he wore back then, when he stumbled into that cafe at the second floor and looked about aimlessly as if he'd stepped in with no knowledge of what he wanted to do. It was rather odd. Mishiro tilted her head to the side slightly and entwined her fingers underneath the table, meeting his stare with an inquisitive one of her own. 

 

⁠—Pinball had strikingly blue eyes.

 

Movement caused them to break eye contact. This time, she recognized the players entering the inn. Mishiro gave them a polite nod as the pair of regular lodgers passed by her table and made their way upstairs - a gesture they returned with a smile and a quick glance at the boy standing by the entryway. They disappeared into the second floor, and she turned back to Pinball.

 

He'd inched closer to her table. He didn't proceed any further, and somehow, neither did she urge him to.

 

"Waiting for someone." 

 

Sliding her tray of food forward, she allotted enough space and stood her sketchbook on the table, facing Pinball. Occupying a large portion of the page was a drawing of a ferret standing on two legs with its head turned curiously towards the viewer. It was fully pencil-shaded with special attention given to the texture and pattern of its fur, but that all vanished at around its head and upper body - which she'd decided to ink. A bad decision, if any. She didn't know what came over her but all she could do at this point was finish it. "...and working on this. What do you think?" Off to the side of the page were blots of ink and pencil - it was evident she decided to practice on the same sheet instead of using another. Mishiro peered over the sketchbook, carefully watching him as he took in her latest work.

 

'What are you doing here on Valentine's Day?' she would have asked, if not for the conversation upstairs coming to a close. She closed her sketchbook and slid it to the side, then pulled her tray of food back into place. 

 

"Sorry to keep you waiting!"

 

Mishiro turned away from Pinball and smiled as Roman approached.

 

"You didn't take long enough to warrant an apology."

 

"Really? That's good to hear." He stopped beside their table, absentmindedly running a hand through his damp hair. Somehow, he looked even less awake than he did fifteen minutes earlier. A brown ferret that bore a striking resemblance to the one in Mishiro's sketch hopped off his shoulder and scuttled towards her, climbing up the chair leg and jumping onto her lap. "I was just curious why they got back so early. Turns out the lines to some festivities in the Central Plaza were so long, they just gave up and returned to the inn..."

 

He trailed off entirely when realized there was a third person in the room - and that the two younger players were facing each other as if they were just having a conversation. Subtly, he glanced at Mishiro, then back at the unfamiliar player.

 

"Oh, hey." Roman drew closer to the seat beside her and placed a hand atop its backrest with a friendly smile. "I don't think I've seen you around here. You a friend of Shiromi?"

 

Mishiro dropped her gaze and petted the ferret on her lap.

[Pinball 1]

"Waiting on someone? Oh, should I, uh-" 

"And working on something. What do you think?" 

She slid what Pinball recognized as her sketchbook across the counter then. Drawn in it was what looked like some sort of rat he really couldn't give a name to - but it was sort of cute looking. He smiled sheepishly and gave her a thumbs up. "Looks good," he nodded, shuffling in his chair. "Um-"

'What are you doing here on Valentine's day?' was what Pinball wanted to ask. Another, less vocal part of him considering asking her if she'd want to come hang out with him. He wasn't terribly outspoken, though, so it might be difficult, but if he could grow a pair and actually ask her, maybe it would be sort of nice to- 

"Sorry to keep you waiting!"

Mishiro turned to the voice and smiled. Pinball turned as well, but his expression more resembled a confused caveman's. Walking towards them was a fairly tall, good looking man with long, pink hair that he flipped to the side like a shoujo-protag, his soft emerald eyes landing on Mishiro's pale gray lovingly. A ferret wrapped around his shoulder hopped off, scuttering towards Mishiro, who happily embraced and began to pet the rodent. 

So that's what she's doing on Valentine's day, he thought, his eyes glazing over. 

B r o k e n. Everyone has somebody except you, you lonely loser. Curb your expectations.

It took him a few seconds to realize he was being talked to. And when he did, he physically jumped, turning his own wide-eyes towards the hunk man. 

"I-I'm sorry, what was that-?" 

[Mishiro 0]

Another subtle glance.

Mishiro wasn't paying much attention, but it was evident they were both - very awkwardly - staying still as if neither could decide when it was polite to sit. Why all the fuss? They all knew each other now, it would be impolite to sit at another table.

...she kind of wanted to start eating already...

"Are you a friend of Shiromi's?"

Unlike her, he didn't sound annoyed at having to repeat himself.

She took the smallest dumpling from Roman's plate and fed it to the ferret on her lap. A friend? It wasn't directed at her, but she mulled over it all the same. She just met Pinball so by her regular standards, he was nothing more than an acquaintance... if she were to think that simply. Her thoughts strayed to the time they spent together after she met him at the cafe by coincidence.

Though she remained largely unaware of it, Mishiro was paying close attention to Pinball's response.

Edited November 13, 2019 by Mishiro

[Pinball 1]

"A friend of Shiromi's," Pinball echoed, betraying his absentmindedness. Shiromi? Who's Shiromi? 

His eyes wandered over to the cafe girl. Oh, that's right. 

"Um, well," Pinball blushed, fidgeting, "I mean, a little bit... a little bit. Y-yeah." What a goober. He felt really stupid right about now. And he should, too, after that display. Didn't you know he know you're never supposed to mess up in front of attractive people? 

And speaking of attractive, why was he here again? Pinball couldn't help but compare himself to the couple. They had someone; he was lonely. The man's hair was long and silky and clean - Pinball's looked like he'd just rolled out of bed. The man had a brilliant smile, whereas Pinball couldn't help but think of his own as goofy, if not obnoxious. Mishiro was quiet and reserved, and Pinball was really interested in her. He thought she had a really pretty smile, too. And her hair was dark, and her eyes were a really interesting shade of grey. If getting her to smile was a prize, Pinball kind of sort of wanted to hit the jackpot. 

And he was blushing even more just thinking about it. What an embarrassing train of thought. He knew for a god damn fact that she didn't - and wouldn't - have thoughts like this. Why was he such a god damn loser? 

"Ah, I almost forgot," he declared, abruptly pushing himself to his feet, "I gotta go, sorry." 

And without explanation, Pinball would attempt to excuse himself. 

[Mishiro 0]

"Then it's nice to meet you." So that's how things were. Roman's smile turned knowing. There weren't many ways to interpret how Pinball visibly turned flustered over a simple question or how his gaze lingered on the girl for a little too long. Well, it flew over her head. But pretty much everything did, so that was beside the point. "Shiromi hardly ever brings her friends here, so it's a nice surprise. I'm Claude. What's your name?"

This...
Was taking forever.

So much so that it dampened the little symphony that played in her heart when she heard him speak. She fed Bandit another one of Roman's dumplings with a vengeance. The small brown ferret gave a delighted squeak and he looked down at them - at Mishiro, and the plate missing two of his favorite dumplings, and her flat expression as her chopsticks hovered over the third one.

"Oh, uh - crap. Were you waiting?"

Obviously.

"I'm so sorry!" He hastily slid into the seat beside her and turned an embarrassed smile to Pinball. "Why don't you join us? The more the merrier... if you have nowhere else to be, I guess."

At that point, Pinball attempted to exclude himself.

"--Wait."

Mishiro normally wouldn't have. But her clear voice cut through the awkward pause that had ensued.

"Did you come here for a reason?" She tilted her head in genuine curiosity. Beside her, Roman listened in intently as he snapped his chopsticks. "I'd rather you stay, even if it's just for a little while."

Edited November 25, 2019 by Mishiro