Chapter Text
“Once upon a time, many years ago, there was a pair of siblings who lived in a great castle. The prince, the younger of the two, was set to become the King of the Land. This was a boon for the princess, for all she wanted was to pursue her passion in painting. The prince, on the other hand, was not fond of this arrangement. He had his own passions, his own desires and goals, and with this he snuck into the local village every week. He visited local taverns in the hopes of catching a glimpse of his true passion, live music.
Eventually, it came to a head. The prince could not take any more of the rigid structure of the crown and decided to escape. He informed his sister, who was supportive of his decision, as she wanted only the best for him, and he set off. She was declared the new heir, but continued to follow her love for the arts. She did not see her brother again, but lived peacefully knowing he was following his dreams. Even though she was next in line for the throne, her reclusive tendencies only increased with the uptick in her responsibilities. She continued her studies in painting, staying up late into the night, fueled by her passion for art.
One day, the castle was visited by an old man. His figure was obscured by the draping robe and large hood he wore. He had a request for the lone princess:
‘Paint me the most beautiful picture in the land.’
The princess took the challenge in stride. She was proud of her work. She put all of her heart and soul into making artwork and was sure that she could devise the most beautiful painting imaginable. She accepted the man’s proposal and holed herself up in her room. She painted and painted and painted, all night and all day, until she was completed.
When the man returned, the princess presented the fruits of her labor.
‘It’s not good enough,’ the man sneered. The princess was taken aback. This was the best piece that she had ever made. No one had the right to treat her this way. She could not control the anger that rushed through her veins.
‘How dare you, you ungrateful witch!’ The princess snapped. ‘You look down at me? At my work? I have created for you a wondrous picture, yet you have the audacity to look down at me.’
The old man sneered, not offended by the venom dripping from the princess’s tongue, but appalled by her actions.
‘The lighting is muddied here,’ the man pointed at the far left of the painting, ‘there is no clear contrast on the foreground and background, making it look flat. The focal point is contrived and not well executed. It overpowers the rest of the piece in an unappealing way. The dissection of the meaning takes no critical thought. The lines are uninspired, too weak to bring any power to the composition. The shapes are—‘
‘Stop!’ The princess interrupted him, only making the man’s frustration increase. ‘I have painted you a magnificent piece of work, created by the princess of the land herself. You simply do not understand my skill and your critique is unfounded.’
‘That is your arrogance speaking.’ The man suddenly stood straight, his hunched back no longer so crooked and curved as his spinal cord snapped, vertebrae by vertebrae. He towered over the princess and removed his hood. His face was no longer what it appeared to be before, twisting and morphing into something completely different, her features sharper and more angular. The princess tried to nervously take a step back, but found herself unable to move.
‘You are much too egotistical to properly lead this land,’ the man boomed, ‘you place yourself on a pedestal, assuming your status and talent will be enough. You are wrong.’ He placed his hand atop the princess’s head. The princess was still frozen, perhaps even more than before, fear taking hold of her body.
‘This curse will stay with you until someone is able to truly love you, without any need for talent or status. Once your ego subsides, then you can be free.’
The man turned on his heel, leaving the princess standing at the doorway in shock. She tried to lift her arm and found herself able to move again. She was cursed, according to this strange man, but she could feel no change. She was still herself. She let out a sigh of relief, kicked the painting into the foyer haphazardly, and went to rest.
After that day, the princess was never seen again.”
The performer took a bow, yet the crowd surrounding him was displeased with this action.
“Mr. Rui, what happens next?” The child nearest to him takes hold of his leg and tries to shake him down.
“Is the princess okay?” Another child yells from the middle of the crowd.
“Settle down, settle down,” he chuckles. “I don’t know what happened to her either. She suddenly vanished one day.”
“Is that why the king left? Because the princess died?” A quieter child asks. Rui kneeled to her height.
“She might not be dead. She was only cursed,” he reassures her.
“But don’t curses kill people?”
“Only if they aren’t broken. The princess could have broken her curse.”
The child holds back her tears as Rui ruffles her hair. The kids that surrounded him began to split off, heading home or to the local park to play games.
Akiyama Mizuki takes the opportunity to leave her hiding place in the nearby alley.
“You really riled them up this time, Rui,” Mizuki says before he can take his leave.
“Always the best for my audience,” he cracks into a smile. He’s the only person she thinks is ever actually happy to see her. “Any particular reason you came to see me today?”
“Can’t I just enjoy a wonderful performance by a skilled local actor?” Mizuki tries to sound casual. Rui lifts an eyebrow at her.
“And willingly be in a crowd?“
That Kamishiro, always able to see right through her. Mizuki lets out an awkward laugh.
“I suppose you have a point,” she stares at the ground, to avoid that wry smile she knows he has.
“So, what brings you here?” He isn’t afraid to broach tough topics. Mizuki shuffles the loose dirt under her shoe.
“I think I’m going to leave,” Mizuki finally admits. He doesn’t recoil or gasp, simply nodding his head in that understanding way he always does.
“I see,” he says, “do you have a plan?”
Mizuki is glad he doesn’t make a big deal of it, only concerned for her safety.
“I was thinking I could go to that nearby village. You know, the one that’s like two days away?”
“It’s a perilous trek,” Rui mused. “Do you know how to get there safely?”
“Well…” Mizuki twirls a loose strand of hair. Rui raises an eyebrow.
“You don’t have a plan,” he states. Mizuki only giggles in response.
“You got me there,” she only had a vague idea of a plan, but she was getting desperate. She needed to get out of this place as soon as possible.
“Come with me,” Rui motions and leads her away from the square.
“Where are we going?” She asks as she keeps her distance.
“My home. I need to make sure you don’t die,” he chuckles. Mizuki’s brow furrows.
“Are you sure? If someone sees me going into your home, you know they’ll talk.”
Rui scoffs at the sentiment, which makes Mizuki feel a little silly. “As if I ever cared what people said,” and then, a bit more softly, “you’re my friend, Mizuki. You’re more important than reputation or anything of the sort.”
Her face surely heats up, most likely turning visibly red, and she mutters a quick thank you to him. He drags her to his home, shuffles through his cabinets, and retrieves a roll of damaged paper. He unfurls it on the table in front of Mizuki and brings his thin fingers to the center.
“This is our village,” he explains and drags his index finger to the top-right corner of the map. “Here is the nearest town. You’re right that it’s a two day trip on foot, which means you will be required to spend the night somewhere. There is not an inn between the two that I know of, and I worry for your safety if you were to accept the hospitality of strangers.”
Mizuki nods her head. She knows she isn’t the most well liked person, and word may travel faster than she’s able. Rui points towards a spot almost between the two villages, a bit off the path to the left.
“This is the now abandoned summer home of the Shinonome family.”
“The Shinonomes had a summer home? Here?” Mizuki was not aware of this.
Rui nodded. “It was something they felt necessary to keep private. They would occasionally visit to enjoy our wonderful shoreline.”
“Why did they abandon it?”
“Well,” Rui cleared his throat. “Do you remember the story I was telling earlier? About Princess Shinonome?”
“Don’t say that it’s true,” Mizuki muttered.
“No, not entirely. I do have to embellish things to keep my audience engaged. The part about both Shinonome children disappearing is true, however. The younger most likely fled to another village to live a life of peace. The older, though, nobody is sure what happened to her. Something occurred in that home that made them choose to let it rot.”
“Do you know how long it’s been empty for?” Mizuki leans over the map and studies the path. It’s simple, just off the road to the other village.
“I can’t say for sure, but most likely at least three years.”
“Are you sure it’s abandoned? Like I won’t find any surprise visitors?”
“It’s been kept a secret for this long, I’m sure you’ll be able to stay there for the night. I can’t promise there won’t be bugs, though.”
Mizuki groans, her face landing on the map, and feels a hand scratch her head. She looks up to see Rui smiling at her.
“I’ll miss you,” he says. She isn’t sure how he’s able to be so honest so easily. She wants to return the sentiment, but chokes on the words.
“I’ll miss you too,” she eventually croaks out, actively fighting against the tears pooling her eyes. Rui wraps her into an embrace, an action that would normally make her tense up, but she can’t help her arms reciprocating his actions. She’s not sure how long they stay there for, but it doesn’t feel long enough.
She’s packed everything she needs and snuck in a few things she wanted into two bags, one for each hand. It’s a bit too heavy, but she’ll make it through. Mizuki was willing to spend two days carrying bags heavier than her lifting ability to get away with her prized homemade clothing. She’s been traveling down the path for a few hours now and she can feel the blisters forming at the back of her ankles, but she keeps moving forward. Her arms burn from carrying her bags and the further she gets the more often she needs to rest. She’s never been one for nature, but the tree roots trying to trip her and the rustling of the nearby bushes is starting to unsettle her. She would prefer to get to the summer house as soon as possible. There’s something that sounds like a howl in the distance, and Mizuki feels sweat pool at the back of her neck.
She’s almost at the bend where she needs to turn into the woods to find the old Shinonome vacation home. The sun is setting a little too quickly for her liking. She picks up the pace, off the path and trudging into the underbrush of the woods. She trips a few times, damaging her bags, but she carries forward. It’s getting dark, and quickly. It’s really freaking her out. She thinks she hears another howl and she forgets momentarily about the burning of her arms or the blisters biting her heels. She starts running. Eventually, she has to slow down to catch her breath. She listens to the woods, the darkness beginning to truly set in, and only hears leaves brushing against each other. She rests her bags down for a moment and looks to the sky, various stars visible from the openings in the treetops. It’s beautiful. With a renewed vigor and a creeping anxiety, she carries forward. She walks in that direction for about another hour until she hits a clearing.
Before her towers a building of a scale she’s never seen before. The spires pierce the clouds overhead, reaching dizzying heights that make Mizuki feel motion sick. It’s not only massive, but gorgeous as well. Its facade is meticulously carved, filled with shallow reliefs of flowers of all varieties. Yet, even its beauty could not mask the sorry state of disrepair the structure is in. Weather has eroded the walls, vines grow up its sides, branches and other objects have chipped away at the marble work that litters it. Paint is fading, wood is rotting away, and Mizuki still can’t help but stare open-mouthed at the castle. How could something this massive, this wonderful, so close to her own village, be left to die like this?
She forces her jaw to shut and take another step towards the huge door. Its large, dark wood frame was at least twice as tall as her, but that didn’t stop her somewhat confident stride to the doorknob. She pushes it open, revealing a room that is in much better shape than the outside would suggest. It’s not nearly as dusty as a decrepit castle should be, nor does it have any pests scurrying across the floor, attempting to escape predators.
It’s too quiet.
She takes another slow step, worrying that if they’re too fast, something will come out of the shadows.
The floorboards creak but nothing lunges at her. She takes that as a sign to let go of the breath she was holding in and take in the room. It’s extravagantly decorated, complete with a large chandelier. She walks further into the reception to creep up the staircase at the end. The floorboards creak a bit too loudly for Mizuki’s preference, but she’s too tired to think about it. She’s dreaming about the large royal bed and its goosefeather mattress that has to be somewhere in the home. There are more hallways and doors than Mizuki expected, however, and the bedroom is much harder to find when you don’t know where to go. She lets her bags down to take a breather, dropping her head to look down at her shoes. Her feet hurt so much now. The cute shoes were not worth it.
There’s a scratching sound, and before Mizuki can process it, a large form leaps out at her. It presses her back against the nearest wall, with arms splayed across the cool stone. She tries to control her breathing, but as the figure in front of her becomes more clear, her heart rate skyrockets.
Her attention is primarily drawn to the large maw of the creature, slightly open to show off fangs the size of Mizuki’s hand. Beady eyes glare at her and a growl emits from the creature. Her gaze then turns towards the pair of furred arms, trapping them with a pair of sharp-clawed paws.
The Beast corners her in this room, with no room for escape. She forgives Rui for leading her here, knowing that her death was not truly his fault, and she closes her eyes.
“Who are you?”
She opens her eyes again. The Beast’s hackles rise further.
“I said, who are you ?” The voice is deep and dripping with anger, but Mizuki finds that it’s not exactly unpleasant to listen to.
The Beast is impatient and takes a step closer to Mizuki. She quickly snaps out of her daze and focuses on pumping the words out of her mouth.
“Akiyama Mizuki! I’m from a small village nearby.”
“What are you doing here?”
Mizuki hesitates, trying to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t reveal the whole truth. “I left. I was hoping I would be able to stay here for the night as I made my way to another village.”
Not exactly a lie, but she was hoping to stay for maybe an extra night or two. The trip was more taxing than she realized.
“You do realize this is private property, right?” The Beast mutters. Mizuki has to suppress a laugh. What does a creature care about real estate?
“I was under the assumption this castle was abandoned.”
“Is that what they’re saying around town now?” The Beast asks. Mizuki is… confused by this line of questioning.
“Yeah,” she replies. “After both Shinonome children disappeared, their parents stopped traveling outside the capital.”
“Fucking hell.”
At that point, Mizuki couldn’t hold it back anymore. She lets all of her nervous laughter, bubbling out from her chest, half in relief and half in absurdity. Who knew a creature would care about royal politics? The Beast only straightens its ( her? ) back. The intimidation tactic doesn’t really work and Mizuki continues to snicker.
“Do you want to die? I have giant fangs and claws and here you are, finding this to be the funniest situation in the world,” her voice raises an octave and she makes no motion to raise her paws.
“And if I do?” Mizuki lets the smirk settle on her features.
“You’re insane. You’re a suicidal maniac,” The Beast goes back to slouching. “Just get out. Leave this place.”
“You know, it’s still dark outside…” Mizuki twirls her thumbs.
“I thought you just said you wanted to die. Go get eaten by some wolves.”
“Getting eaten by wolves isn’t necessarily my personal preference of death,” Mizuki shrugs. “Besides, you don’t want to eat me or anything? I’m like a perfectly good meal just waiting for you.”
“You’re annoying. Can you leave already?”
Mizuki hums as her eyes get a better look at the monster in front of her. She’s about a foot taller than her, covered in soft-looking but matted brown fur, a gradient of dark brown from the tips of her limbs to the lighter at the center of her torso. Her ears resemble a wolf’s, yet she has a pair of gray spiral horns curling around them. Her forearms are long, but her legs are much shorter and stronger. And she’s trying to hide herself in a torn garment and stray sheets of pink and white fabric.
Is this… her attempt at beast-sized clothing?
“Say,” Mizuki tenderly approaches the subject. “Would you happen to be in need of a tailor?”
“No,” her response is curt. Mizuki squints her eyes.
“What if I told you I’m quite skilled with a needle and thread. I even made my own outfit!” She completes the statement with a courtesy, gently lifting the hem of her skirt.
“Did… did you?” The Beast is definitely impressed that Mizuki was capable of such a feat, with good reason, since the clothing she wears is incredibly well-fitting and well coordinated.
“I also design! As well as alter. If you let me stay, I could be of assistance.”
The Beast takes a step back and regards her own sorry excuse for clothing. Her eyes turn away from Mizuki in a way that almost seems bashful. Was Mizuki too hard on her?
“Fine,” she replies. “You can stay as long as you work as my tailor. I will provide you with meals and a bed.”
“Oh wait, I get meals too? That’s more than I bargained for!” Mizuki wears an annoyingly goofy grin to which the Beast just scoffs at her.
“Let’s just say I’m feeling extra generous. I have more than enough food to go around.”
“I am in your debt, Oh Great Beast,” Mizuki says and she bows her head and without looking, she knew just how hard the Beast was rolling her eyes.
“You’re not going to call me a Beast. That’s rude as hell,” she turns her back away from Mizuki and motions for her to follow. She almost trips over her own feet and begins her pursuit. The Beast has a faster walking pace than she does, most likely due to her height, so she struggles to keep up.
“I try to be as rude as possible usually,” Mizuki chirps up as she passes a large portrait covered by a moth-bitten sheet. The Beast slows down, most likely noticing that Mizuki isn’t walking as fast. Mizuki keeps her comments on the matter to herself, showing her appreciation in silence.
“I can see that. Maybe I should leave you outside to fend for yourself then?”
“No, wait, no, I’m a helpless little seamstress,” Mizuki has to try really hard to hold back her laughter.
“You aren’t helpless, that’s for sure.”
“No, no, I am.” Mizuki pouts as she gingerly flexes her biceps. “Look how sad and pathetic my muscles are. I’m in great need of your mercy, Beast.”
“I told you to stop calling me that,” she threatens.
“But you didn’t give me an alternative, you know?”
The Beast is silent for a moment. And then, “Uh. Guess I forgot.” She’s even more pathetic than Mizuki is. “Call me… Enanan.”
“Is that your name? Or just a cool nickname?” She knows she’s asking for her guts to be torn out of her body, but she feels the unstoppable need to ease the tension, which has gotten better, despite the dark castle and lumbering Beast she’s following.
“Doesn’t matter to you,” Enanan gruffs. Mizuki’s glad her intestines are still in the right place.
Enanan brings her to a door at the end of a dark hallway and opens the door with a bit of force. The furniture is covered in a layer of dust, but it has the luxurious king-sized bed that Mizuki was hoping for.
“This is your room,” Enanan tells her. “When I’m awake tomorrow, I’ll make you breakfast and show you where you can work.”
“When you’re awake… Do you plan on getting up late?” Mizuki teases Enanan’s phrasing, but Enanan turns away from her and towards the door.
“You’re not getting breakfast anymore.”
“Wait! I’ll starve and die and then you’ll have my blood on your hands! Do you really want that?”
“I literally told you to go outside and get eaten by wolves,” Enanan makes a lot of threats for someone who can easily rip her body limb from limb, but hasn’t yet.
“Fine,” Mizuki stretches her arms over her head. “Thanks, by the way. For letting me stay.”
Enanan shakes her head as she starts to exit the room. “Don’t mention it,” and she closes the door behind her. Mizuki lays down on the bed. It’s too dusty, yet she’s glad to be off her feet. She doesn’t even change or get under the blankets before she feels her eyes close with exhaustion.
Mizuki didn’t realize she fell asleep until waking up the next morning, clothes wrinkled and entirely too dirty. She sighs, leaves the room, and hopes that Enanan is awake.
Enanan isn’t up for another two hours, and Mizuki knows when she hears a crash from a higher floor. At first, she thinks the building’s age is showing and the whole place is coming apart, until she hears a scream from a familiar voice. She creeps up the nearest staircase to find Enanan, hackles raised and claws splayed, to a teacup.
Mizuki is most certainly hallucinating. This can’t be real.
“I should have smashed you long ago!” Enanan yells. The teacup stays perfectly still. As a normal teacup should. Until—
“You have to keep some sort of order in place. Staying up all night and sleeping all day is no way to keep structure,” the teacup spoke. The teacup. Mizuki feels faint.
“It is structured! I get eight hours of sleep every day at roughly the same time every day!”
“Yes, from four in the morning to noon. If you want to keep your prestige once you turn back, you’ll have to live your life properly.”
“Can you seriously shut up, you purple freak?” Enanan turns her back towards the teacup and begins to climb the stairs. Mizuki ducks behind a column, a faint “it is your fault I’m in this form,” behind her as she rushes back to her room. She breathes for a moment. A talking teacup? And it’s Enanan’s fault? She didn’t know how to process any of this. How did any of this happen?
“Mizuki,” a gruff voice shook her out of her trance. Enanan stumbles down the hallway to her room and Mizuki straightens out.
“Y-yeah? What’s up, Enanan!” She calls back.
“Would you like to… maybe join me for breakfast?” Enanan looks like she’s cringing at the words coming out of her mouth. Mizuki sees an opportunity.
“Oh? Does the great Enanan take pity on li’l hungry me?” Mizuki’s sure her smile is as wide as her face. Enanan might turn her into breakfast if she’s not careful.
“Okay. Starve. See if I care.” Enanan turns her back to Mizuki and walks away, slowly, and turns her head back to see if Mizuki follows. Mizuki chuckles and follows suit.
The dining hall is larger than any room Mizuki has even seen before. Its table is furnished with an intricately patterned tablecloth. If everything wasn’t so dusty, it would be beautiful. The centerpiece is a small statue of a woman with wavy long twin ponytails.
“It’s huge!” Mizuki can’t help but comment.
“You’re finally figuring out that this is a summer palace?”
“I knew that! But it’s huge ,” Mizuki whined.
“I’m sure you can find a plate for yourself.” Enanan takes a seat at the head of the table. Besides her, is another prepared plate full to the brim of foodstuffs. Mizuki doesn’t think she’s seen a meal so luxurious before.
“Are you going to eat your food through your eyes or your mouth?” Enanan is trying her best to use a spoon.
“Um, yes,” Mizuki says while she fumbles picking up her own silverware. She unthinkingly puts a spoonful in her mouth.
“Ack! Hot!”
“… It’s not really that hot.”
“Yes it is!”
Enanan lifts an eyebrow. Mizuki turns red.
“My tongue is a little sensitive.”
“A little?”
That gets a giggle out of Mizuki. Enanan huffs, which keeps Mizuki smiling while blowing the heat from the surface of the soup. They eat the rest of their meal in silence.
“This is where you can work,” Enanan holds the door open for her and she walks in. It’s spacious, complete with every machine she could want. She walks up to the sewing machine, running her finger through a thick layer of dust. Enanan stays back, leaning on the doorframe. She thinks about commenting on why a summer house has an entire workroom, but chalks it up to royal weirdness.
“I don’t really use it,” Enanan says as she looks down at her arms. “On account of having paws instead of hands.”
“Well, that’s where I come in, right? Do you have a preference for what you want to wear?” Mizuki asks as she rummages through a box labeled ‘Fabrics.’
“Maybe something cute?” Enanan almost sounds ashamed. “I know, I’m not that cute, so it’s okay if you can’t…”
“I can,” Mizuki feels her resolve burn in her stomach. “I can make you all the cute clothes you want, Enanan.”
She looks away and Mizuki can only assume that she made a beast that was at least a foot taller than her flustered. She takes a bit of pride in that feat and carries on to more important matters.
“Do you have anything in particular in mind? Or would you like me to design anything? I will say that cute clothes are my speciality,” she asks and adds in a quick wink. Enanan huffs and crosses her arms.
“Not particularly. Maybe,” she pauses to take a breath, “something pink. That would be nice.”
Mizuki pulls out a long roll of light pink fabric. She already has ideas for what she’s going to make, and maybe then some.
“Can I take your measurements?” Mizuki asks. Enanan leaves her position at the door to join Mizuki at the center of the room. She already found a measuring tape and had it unraveled.
“Sure. What do I need to do?” Ena sounds like she’s giving in, as if she really had to fight herself to accept this. Mizuki feels that same burning in her stomach.
“Just hold your arms out. I’m going to get a couple of measurements and then you can be on your way.”
Enanan does as she’s asked and Mizuki starts by getting her forearm measurement. She’s doing the works today, making sure she can create an outfit that fits Enanan perfectly. She wraps the tape around Enanan’s arm, brushing her fingers against the fur. It’s softer than she expected. She kind of wants to pet her. Maybe even have Enanan hug her.
She takes the tape off but already forgot how wide the measurements were. Enanan gives her a glare as she wraps the tape again in the same spot.
“Did you forget it already?” Enanan’s teasing her and it makes her feel incredibly weird. Weird in a good way, sure, and similar to how it feels when Rui teased her. Mizuki pushes all those thoughts away, of Rui, of her hometown, and of Enanan’s easy acceptance.
“Uh, yeah, guess I’m a little more scatterbrained than I thought,” the words come out weak. Enanan’s brow raises with what seems to be concern.
“There should be a notepad and a pen on the table.”
Mizuki quietly leans over to grab the notepad and jots down the measurements as she takes them. She wraps the tape around Enanan’s arms, her waist, her shoulder. She makes sure to take every measurement she can so that what she designs can fit Enanan perfectly. She keeps her mouth shut about wanting Enanan to give her a hug. She soon takes the last one, Enanan tensing as if Mizuki was going to comment on anything.
“Alright! That’s it,” Mizuki says as she stretches out her arms. “I’m going to start designing.”
Emanan perks up (her ears literally twitch upwards. it’s adorable) at the mention of designing and Mizuki feels a goofy grin grow. She was going to excuse her, but maybe instead…
“If you’d like to watch, feel free to sit with me.” She has to hold back their giggles as Enanan’s tail starts to wag.
“I suppose I can spare the time,” Enanan tries to sound uninterested, but her ears pointing up are not doing her favors.
Enanan takes a neighboring stool and awkwardly sits on it, towering over Mizuki. She doesn’t really mind, Enanan catches her breath and watches Mizuki drag her pencil over the page. She does some warm-ups, simple shape figures interspersed with notes on possibilities for the designs. The pencil scratching could be probably heard throughout the entire castle with how quiet the two of them were. Mizuki wraps up her warm-ups and starts to create quick thumbnail sketches of figures proportional to Enanan. She clothes these figures, frills, bows, as cute as her heart desires. Here, she is safe. Here, she can let her imagination run free. She designs without thinking about where she’d acquire these materials, listing out fine and obscure textiles, allowing herself to be free.
“Your figures are flat,” Enanan breaks the silence that she’s been keeping as she watched Mizuki work. She gently drags a claw over the torso of the person. “If you have more curves and overlapping segments it’ll look more alive.”
“Are you an artist or something?” Mizuki smirks. To her surprise, Enanan freezes.
“I’m teasing,” Mizuki quickly covers. “The drawings aren’t that important. It’s more for me to plan what the outfit will look like. I need to draw out the design and sometimes the poses or figures look unnatural because of it.”
“I knew that,” Enanan grumbled. Mizuki is grateful the tension has settled. She goes back to her drawings, scribbling away at what needs to be her cutest outfit ever.
As she designs for what was most likely hours, Enanan stays by her side, with seemingly no intention to leave. She quietly weaves her ideas together, moving from rough ideas to more polished references. She turned to Enanan, who had not taken her eyes off Mizuki’s work, and presented several designs. In her quest to create the cutest outfit, she may have put a few too many frills and ribbons.
“How do these look? Cute, right? I felt like it might be too much, but…” Mizuki trails off to see Enanan covering her face with her paws. “Everything okay?” She asks. Enanan nods her head.
“Yeah, I’m just really happy about these.”
Mizuki doesn’t tease her. Mizuki can’t even look her in the eyes. She stares holes into the clothes depicted on the page.
“You deserve to feel cute too, Enanan.”
Enanan stays quiet for a moment. There’s a sniffle, the scratch of a chair, a curt ‘thank you’, and she’s gone. Just like that, Mizuki is alone again.
She gets back to work. She has an outfit to create.
Mizuki is taken out of her focus with a knock on the door. It creaks open, just a bit, and stops moving.
“Ms. Enanan, wanted to let you know,” there’s a voice but Mizuki can’t place the person speaking, “that dinner will be ready soon.”
“Oh, thank you,” Mizuki replies. She doesn’t look away from her work.
Wasn’t that the voice she heard earlier speaking to Enanan? She turns around, hoping to catch a glance of the mysterious teacup. Nothing was there. She’ll figure it out sooner or later. Rui has told her stories of weirder happenings around the world, a talking teacup is… strange. But not unheard of.
She’s living with a Beast, after all.
She takes a breath. She misses Rui. She knew she would, she knew leaving would make her miss the only community she’s ever had.
But Enanan could be a part of her new community, something from within tells her.
She shakes her head. She’s just here temporarily. She has to keep her distance. Or else she’ll be stuck in a time loop.
She wraps up the stitch she was working on and stretches. It’s a good time to go join Enanan for dinner, she supposes. Mizuki stands up and feels her knees cramp a little. Note to self, take more breaks. Not that she ever listens to herself.
She steps outside to the large hallway, lined with old wooden doors, leading to who knows what. This castle is huge. She hopes she can find dinner.
She slinks around, not on purpose, but in the hopes that she can hear the clinking of silverware or smell the roasting of meat.
“Need some help?”
Mizuki didn’t hear someone walking towards her. Nor does she see anyone.
“I’m actually going crazy,” she mutters to herself.
“Um… Miss,” the voice is back.
Mizuki looks down. There’s a metronome. With a face.
“Um.” She doesn’t know what to say.
“Would you like a guide to the dining hall?”
Yup. That’s a metronome. And Mizuki thought the teacup was weird.
“Hello,” she doesn’t even know how to react.
“Is everything alright, Miss?”
Nope. Too formal.
“My name is Mizuki! Don’t worry about formalities!”
“Mizuki,” the metronome practices her name. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She somehow, despite not having a real face, gives Mizuki a kind smile. Mizuki feels the tension from her shoulders melt away.
“It’s nice to meet you as well…”
“Kanade.”
Mizuki can’t explain why this metronome (girl?) is so soothing, but she manages to melt away all the stress Mizuki is feeling.
“I would love some help getting to the dining hall,” Mizuki admits sheepishly. She’s so lost.
“Of course, follow me.” Kanade waddles forward, around winding hallways and through strange doors. Mizuki would never have found this place on her own, that’s for sure. The dining hall is still huge and the amount of silverware for dinner is making it feel even more huge. It does, however, seem less dusty.
“You finally made it,” Enanan is sitting at an end of the table, her plate untouched.
“Sorry to make you wait, you live in a maze,” Mizuki giggles. Enanan rolls her eyes.
“Whatever. Are you going to take a seat or not?”
“Is there one reserved for me? I’m getting decision paralysis,” Mizuki says. She takes a handful of steps towards Enanan, feigning innocence. Enanan grunts.
“Are you blind? There’s a plate next to me. Or would you rather sit on the floor?”
“Kidding, kidding!” Mizuki grins and takes her seat next to Enanan.
It smells delicious. She isn’t sure what it is. She stares at it, then glances at Enanan, who stares at her.
“Do you need a cheerleader for every meal?”
“I just…” Mizuki rubs the back of her neck. “I’ve never had meals this nice before.”
“Really?” Enanan seems genuinely shocked, which in turn confuses Mizuki.
“I’m, um, from a pretty small village. I don’t have much.”
“Huh.” Enanan just vocalizes. Mizuki picks up a fork. “You’re incredibly skilled, even if you’re annoying. I’m surprised you don’t have noble patrons.”
Mizuki almost drops the fork. She doesn’t know how to tell Enanan that no one likes her without giving too much away. She falls back on old reliable.
“Why thank you, Miss Enanan, you flatter me so!” Mizuki gestures a curtsy.
Enanan rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll never compliment you again.”
For some reason, Mizuki doubts that.
They eat dinner together in less silence than breakfast.
The next few days fall into a comfortable routine. Enanan and Mizuki eat meals together, Mizuki works, and sometimes Enanan watches. As Mizuki approaches the end of the project, Enanan stays with her longer and longer.
Despite what people may assume about her appearance, Enanan is truly kind.
Mizuki supposes that’s something they share in common.
“Alright,” Mizuki says as she ties the final knot. “It’s done.”
She turns around to see that Enanan fell asleep behind her. Her nose, the size of Mizuki’s palm, slowly flares and shuts, and a bit of drool dribbles her jaw. Her right ear twitches. She’s like a big dog. A really cute one. Mizuki puts a hand in her mane. It's even softer than the fur on her arm. She resists the urge to scratch Enanan’s neck.
“Enana—n,” Mizuki sings. She still won’t budge. “Enanan, Enanan, fearsome puppy Enanan,” she makes up the melody, “who wants to look cute and draw with her friend Mizuki—i.” She failed to resist the urge to scratch Enanan under her ear. Enanan unconsciously tilts her head towards the table, allowing Mizuki to scratch better. Her eyes blearily open.
“I resent everything about this,” she croaks out, her voice hoarse with sleep.
“I know. That’s why I did it.” Mizuki smiles.
Enanan closes her eyes again. “You have a nice singing voice,” she mumbles. Mizuki barely catches it and looks away.
“Um. Thank you.”
“But your composition and lyricism suck. Never start a band.”
“Hey! I’ll have you know that I’m a great musician!”
“You’re lying.”
“Yes. I am,” Mizuki says. She smiles a little.
Enanan sits up straight and stretches her arms over her head. Up close, Mizuki realizes how big she can make herself look, even though she’s kind of small in actuality. Though Mizuki doesn’t know what relative Beast size terms are, so she could be huge and Mizuki wouldn’t know. She still seems small for a Beast.
“You’re the worst,” Enanan yawns out.
“I don’t know about all that…” Mizuki says.
“Can you just show me the progress?” Enanan snarls. Mizuki grins.
“If you weren’t so sleepy,” Mizuki begins. Enanan’s ears flatten on her head. “You would know that it’s done! Let’s try it on!”
“Oh… Really?” Enanan would probably seem flushed if her face wasn’t mostly fur. “I mean…”
“Yes!” Mizuki pushes the dress into Enanan’s arms. “Go! Change! I’ll wait here! Oh, but be quick!”
Enanan perks up and leaves the room, Mizuki assumes to find somewhere with a mirror to try on her work. She waits, a handful of minutes turn to ten, and Mizuki’s worried her dress didn’t fit properly. She could have sworn she got the proper measurements. Maybe she wrote something incorrect by accident?
Mizuki’s spiral is broken by the sound of the floorboards creaking and the turn of a rusted door handle.
Enanan walks into the room, staring at the floor. The dress is perfect on her. It hugs her body in all the right ways, it smooths her fur and rough edges, it makes her look human.
It makes Mizuki want to puke. Enanan is glowing. It’s a mirror she didn’t need right now.
“How do you feel, Enanan?” Mizuki manages to ask. Her stomach is swirling.
“It’s… I didn’t think I could feel this way again,” Enanan responds honestly. She looks like she’s going to cry. Mizuki might cry too.
“It’s beautiful, Mizuki. It’s perfect. Thank you so much.” Enanan has never seemed more sincere.
Mizuki understands all too well how clothing can affect someone. She only has her skill set due to the power of perception and fashion.
They just both want to look cute.
“I have a few other ideas… if you’d like another,” Mizuki offers. She isn’t sure if Enanan would accept, but her eyes light up.
“Really?” Enanan’s tail starts to wag. It’s incredibly endearing.
“Yeah! It would take some time, but I can make it,” Mizuki offers. She wasn’t planning on staying here long term, but she’s finding herself liking it.
She understands Enanan, even if Enanan doesn’t realize it. Hopefully she never will.
“You can stay as long as you want, as long as you design me clothing.”
“Yes, my liege,” Mizuki laughs and bows. Enanan rolls her eyes.
“Why do I want to keep you around,” She mutters to herself.
“Because I’m cute, skilled, and funny!” Mizuki smiles.
“Sure. Whatever you have to tell yourself.”
Mizuki goes to bed feeling more comfortable than she has in months. Maybe even years. She’s cleaned up her room in the days she’s been around the castle, and falls comfortably into the duvet. A life of luxury for being the tailor of a Beast is not one that she expected, but finds herself settling into easily.
She falls asleep, and in her dreams, she sees her:
There’s a girl, her age, maybe only a year older, standing in a field of flowers. She’s short and stocky, and her face is hidden by brown hair. Somehow, she’s wearing the dress that Mizuki just completed. Mizuki reaches her hand out, and opens her mouth.
“Who are you?” She asks.
The girl doesn’t move. She stands there, wind blowing the fabric around her legs.
Then, suddenly, just as the girl turns around…
Mizuki wakes to sunlight pouring on her face. She forgot to close the blinds last night.