"Here, rabbit rabbit rabbit..."
This, Moriko decided, was stupid.
It was definitely not her fault that her cousins couldn't keep track of their pets. Their extremely skittish, nervous, jumpy pets. (Hence why she didn't have one.) It was further not her fault that a trio of them, all siblings at most half her age, had left their house's door open and let all of them run out at once.
They were almost assuredly all in the compound, at least. There wasn't any gapping in the walls, and rabbits couldn't hop that high despite her previous efforts at attempting to train them to do so when she had been six. Unless someone had let them out, they would still be somewhere safe.
Meaning she shouldn't have to be the one to look for them, but all her cousins were 'busy' with learning how to read or whatever else it was they learned at their age level. Moriko had been somewhat accelerated and hadn't the foggiest idea which subject were 'normally' taught at which ages for her clan.
"Nice place you have here."
Moriko whirled to spot perched on the outer wall the boy she'd met near the market the day she'd unlocked her bloodline limit--Tsukiya. He was inspecting the area with interest, gaze wandering back to her when her attention snapped to him. She lowered her bow, abruptly realizing she'd drawn it.
"I'd ask how you got in here but it's not like we have defenses beyond walls." If he'd scaled the wall that was fine and didn't impede her mission. "Did you just look us up...?"
"Not difficult to do," Tsukiya agreed, vaulting himself off the wall and landing lightly on the stone path that circled the perimeter, dusting himself off as he approached her. "There might be a fair few clans in the city, but not that many--and I had your surname, assuming you weren't putting on airs. Which seemed unlikely."
"What'd be the point in that?" she asked. He arched an eyebrow and gave a half-shrug, as if confirming his guess. "Never mind. I don't suppose you saw any rabbits from up there?"
"Dozens, but I assume you mean in this area."
"Yes."
He halted a few paces back and regarded her. "I doubt they're your pets somehow."
"You'd be right there." She sighed.
"Having a large family sounds like a pain."
"You don't know the half of it." It sounded nice to not have to deal with all this. Then again, it wasn't like Moriko was unaware of the privilege she'd grown up with. "Did you actually come to see me?"
"Effectively, yes." That crooked quirk of his lips that could have been a smile was back. "I didn't expect you'd necessarily be free, but I've got a day to kill."
"Well." She paused. A thought had occurred. "If you could help me set up non-harmful traps, we could be out of here or just, off to do something I guess?" What exactly did he have in mind?
"That, I can do." He didn't seem to be forthcoming. It was doubtful it would involve any more back-alley fights, mind. "I thought we could go watch some of the advanced classes and then perhaps grab something to eat somewhere?"
That sounded rather date-like, but Moriko wasn't going to point it out if it wasn't his intention. "Sounds good. Let's grab some lettuce."
When Moriko made it back home shortly before sunset, the sky orange, all three rabbits were snug under boxes, asleep near remains of lettuce. She was in a good mood and so was able to be quite gracious when returning them to their owners, even though she had to dismantle the traps afterwards.
For the most part.
"Look," she said to her tiny, four-year old cousin, whose rabbit was a deep brown with a white spot over one eye, "it isn't hurt or anything, and there are no bugs on it."
"You said trap, traps kills rabbits." The four year old was sucking her thumb whenever she wasn't talking. "I've seen."
"Really." That sounded unlikely.
"Well. I saw the rabbit after." The girl nodded decisively.
"The trap I used was a box propped up, with lettuce under it," Moriko said, tamping down the urge to throw the rabbit at her cousin and run. "When it went under the box, it knocked the stick over and trapped itself. Under the box. The end. This is the same rabbit you lost this morning."
"Ummmm," the four year-old elucidated, peering at the dune rabbit again. Being a rabbit, it was fidgeting a little in Moriko's arms from being held so long.
As if any of the other rabbits had that spot on their eye. Where would she even get another that looked like it? The rabbit factory?
"Okay," the girl said, and held out her arms. With some relief Moriko handed the animal over for it to squirm in its owner's arms instead and be someone else's problem.
That was the last rabbit, which meant she could think about the day. And dinner. Maybe that, more.
And possibly never think about today again.
Not because it hadn't been pleasant, but because over the course of it she had become increasingly aware that it was a date, and moreover she was totally okay with that fact, and that was just not a thing she wanted to think about. Even with a boy like Tsukiya, who was nice and refined and intelligence and understanding--
Too many accolades, dial it back.
Not the point. Anyway, it would not have been a date if she convinced herself of that. Because that was how things worked.
Well, she thought as she entered her own home and headed straight for the kitchen to start preparing dinner, at least he's emotionally aware enough for both of us, and welcome to it.
[Word Count: 1041]
This, Moriko decided, was stupid.
It was definitely not her fault that her cousins couldn't keep track of their pets. Their extremely skittish, nervous, jumpy pets. (Hence why she didn't have one.) It was further not her fault that a trio of them, all siblings at most half her age, had left their house's door open and let all of them run out at once.
They were almost assuredly all in the compound, at least. There wasn't any gapping in the walls, and rabbits couldn't hop that high despite her previous efforts at attempting to train them to do so when she had been six. Unless someone had let them out, they would still be somewhere safe.
Meaning she shouldn't have to be the one to look for them, but all her cousins were 'busy' with learning how to read or whatever else it was they learned at their age level. Moriko had been somewhat accelerated and hadn't the foggiest idea which subject were 'normally' taught at which ages for her clan.
"Nice place you have here."
Moriko whirled to spot perched on the outer wall the boy she'd met near the market the day she'd unlocked her bloodline limit--Tsukiya. He was inspecting the area with interest, gaze wandering back to her when her attention snapped to him. She lowered her bow, abruptly realizing she'd drawn it.
"I'd ask how you got in here but it's not like we have defenses beyond walls." If he'd scaled the wall that was fine and didn't impede her mission. "Did you just look us up...?"
"Not difficult to do," Tsukiya agreed, vaulting himself off the wall and landing lightly on the stone path that circled the perimeter, dusting himself off as he approached her. "There might be a fair few clans in the city, but not that many--and I had your surname, assuming you weren't putting on airs. Which seemed unlikely."
"What'd be the point in that?" she asked. He arched an eyebrow and gave a half-shrug, as if confirming his guess. "Never mind. I don't suppose you saw any rabbits from up there?"
"Dozens, but I assume you mean in this area."
"Yes."
He halted a few paces back and regarded her. "I doubt they're your pets somehow."
"You'd be right there." She sighed.
"Having a large family sounds like a pain."
"You don't know the half of it." It sounded nice to not have to deal with all this. Then again, it wasn't like Moriko was unaware of the privilege she'd grown up with. "Did you actually come to see me?"
"Effectively, yes." That crooked quirk of his lips that could have been a smile was back. "I didn't expect you'd necessarily be free, but I've got a day to kill."
"Well." She paused. A thought had occurred. "If you could help me set up non-harmful traps, we could be out of here or just, off to do something I guess?" What exactly did he have in mind?
"That, I can do." He didn't seem to be forthcoming. It was doubtful it would involve any more back-alley fights, mind. "I thought we could go watch some of the advanced classes and then perhaps grab something to eat somewhere?"
That sounded rather date-like, but Moriko wasn't going to point it out if it wasn't his intention. "Sounds good. Let's grab some lettuce."
When Moriko made it back home shortly before sunset, the sky orange, all three rabbits were snug under boxes, asleep near remains of lettuce. She was in a good mood and so was able to be quite gracious when returning them to their owners, even though she had to dismantle the traps afterwards.
For the most part.
"Look," she said to her tiny, four-year old cousin, whose rabbit was a deep brown with a white spot over one eye, "it isn't hurt or anything, and there are no bugs on it."
"You said trap, traps kills rabbits." The four year old was sucking her thumb whenever she wasn't talking. "I've seen."
"Really." That sounded unlikely.
"Well. I saw the rabbit after." The girl nodded decisively.
"The trap I used was a box propped up, with lettuce under it," Moriko said, tamping down the urge to throw the rabbit at her cousin and run. "When it went under the box, it knocked the stick over and trapped itself. Under the box. The end. This is the same rabbit you lost this morning."
"Ummmm," the four year-old elucidated, peering at the dune rabbit again. Being a rabbit, it was fidgeting a little in Moriko's arms from being held so long.
As if any of the other rabbits had that spot on their eye. Where would she even get another that looked like it? The rabbit factory?
"Okay," the girl said, and held out her arms. With some relief Moriko handed the animal over for it to squirm in its owner's arms instead and be someone else's problem.
That was the last rabbit, which meant she could think about the day. And dinner. Maybe that, more.
And possibly never think about today again.
Not because it hadn't been pleasant, but because over the course of it she had become increasingly aware that it was a date, and moreover she was totally okay with that fact, and that was just not a thing she wanted to think about. Even with a boy like Tsukiya, who was nice and refined and intelligence and understanding--
Too many accolades, dial it back.
Not the point. Anyway, it would not have been a date if she convinced herself of that. Because that was how things worked.
Well, she thought as she entered her own home and headed straight for the kitchen to start preparing dinner, at least he's emotionally aware enough for both of us, and welcome to it.
[Word Count: 1041]
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