Chapter Text
Call it a chance encounter. Call it what you will. Ririka’s ears took notice before her eyes did. And so what first roused her attention when she sat down on a bus stop bench and waited for Mary to arrive was the small, enigmatic chirping.
It was a curious sound. A markedly different pitch from the bird call of sparrows, it cut through the rustle of sun-scorched leaves in the wind, and the background drone of cicadas in the summer air.
For a moment, she was convinced her ears were playing tricks on her by warping the sound of the wind. She had just come from a dip in the school pool, after all. Even after the brisk shower, her hair still smelled faintly of chlorine.
Ririka pinched her nose between forefinger and thumb then blew until she heard her ears pop, but even after that, the noise persisted. One peep, then another—an insistent, clumsy rhythm like a child banging fists upon a table, crying out for attention.
The shrill cry had absolutely nothing to do with her. Still, something in the depths of her heart spurred her to act. And so she did. With a resolute hum, Ririka hefted her bag over her shoulder and rose from the sun-warmed bench.
Trying to find the source of the noise felt like playing Marco Polo with Kirari. When they were children, Kirari’s favorite move had been to stealthily slink out the swimming pool. She would circle its perimeter, blindly leading Ririka around until she tore off her blindfold in exasperation. If Ririka concentrates hard enough, she can still hear their shared laughter as Kirari sat, legs dangling by the pool’s edge while they splashed water at each other.
If someone had told Ririka back then that she would look fondly upon those memories, Ririka would have frowned. But they had far less to worry about back then. Alone in each other’s company, and without her mask, it had been one of the few times Ririka had felt free of the cage their elders locked them both in…
It was a strangely engrossing thought. Only when the sun’s sharp glare peeked out from the clouds did Ririka get jostled back to the present. Only then did she continue her hunt.
She followed the persistent cheeping, straying further and further away from the main road, snagging her uniform on the finicky thorns of brambles and ducking under the overhanging branches of a gnarled yew tree. Finally, she stumbled upon a large open drain skirting the edge of an open field where cogon grass grew wild, and burned gold from the harsh light of the sun.
Ririka heaved a sigh, and when she looked down, there the little creature was, trapped in the drain.
Her lithe body cast a mammoth shadow over the small bird. From this angle, she could only spot the yellow tuft of its small head surrounded on all sides by piles of dried leaves and litter. How did you wind up here? Ririka wondered. Had it fallen from its nest or escaped the talons of a predatory bird mid-flight?
Possibilities piled upon possibilities as Ririka eased herself carefully down into the dusty drain. Underfoot, leaves crunched and twigs snapped as she crouched uncomfortably in the sun-bleached debris of dried leaves and empty bottles and cans. Despite the noise, the baby bird did not flee. Instead, it stopped chirping to regard her with curious, beady eyes when Ririka rummaged in her backpack and retrieved a plastic bottle of red tea.
Upon an uneven bed of dried leaves, she laid the bottle cap, and poured the little critter a drink. Instead of startling, the chick hopped gingerly forward and dipped its beak into the liquid to quench its thirst.
Was its mind too young to grasp the concept of danger? Ririka wondered. Maybe it was brave by nature, or too delirious from the heat. She giggled in soft surprise when it hopped into the bottle cap and treated it like a bird bath. And then Ririka’s eyes widened. Worried about the possibility of it suffering heat stroke, Ririka drizzled red tea onto its head.
All throughout its impromptu bath, it chirruped and did a wiggly dance, flapping its stubby, fluffy wings all the while. When Ririka brought her finger close to pet its damp head, it nuzzled against her skin and chirped.
Ririka rested an elbow against her knee, cupped the side of her jaw and marveled at the sight of its damp, yellow plumage. It was the smallest living thing she had ever touched: warm and soft, and real. How extraordinary, Ririka thought with a smile, that something so small could fit in the palm of her hand.
Its bath ended without a hitch. It cheeped, and tilted its head inquisitively to the side when Ririka kept the empty bottle and toweled it dry with a monogrammed silk handkerchief. The static electricity made its yellow feathers floof up adorably. Ririka grinned at the chirping ball of yellow fluff.
She was certainly relieved for now, but completely lost with how to proceed.
What would Mary do? Ririka thought with a mild hum. If it was anything like their own encounter, Mary would expend a great deal of energy berating the bird before saving it in a cranky huff.
Instead of all the fuss, Ririka held the tiny bird gently in her hands and said, “You’ve been so strong on your own.”
The stubborn critter kept hopping back down into the drain after Ririka no matter how many times she lifted it out. It was cute at the beginning, but even her patience had a limit. Ririka combed her hands through her hair in exasperation when it hopped atop her loafer and started pecking at her sock with its beak.
“You have to trust me, little one,” she gently chided as she scooped it up into her open palm, addressing it like a small child.
Instead of behaving, it cocked its head and chirruped defiantly before hopping up Ririka’s arm to perch atop her shoulder.
“I…” Ririka blushed as she felt the ball of fluff rub up against and tickle her neck. Her exasperated whine turned into a groan when it failed to read the mood, and instead broke out into cheery birdsong. “Alright,” Ririka said with a resigned sigh as she made to rise. “But be careful not to fall.”
When Ririka returned to the bus stop, she looked both ways before discretely slipping the baby bird into the pocket of her school blazer. “Don’t worry.” Ririka pulled her pocket back to peer reassuringly down at it. “You’re safe now.”
The chirrup she received in response sounded more like a high pitched squeak. It kind of… reminded her of Mary. Ririka scratched her cheek bashfully at the thought. Small, fiery and indomitable in its own stubborn way. Much like Mary, it was remarkably hard to look at the small bird without smiling fondly, though this was impossible for any onlooker to tell now that she had slipped her mask back into place.
When Mary finally showed up, she plucked Ririka’s mask off like it was nothing, diligently picked all the twigs and leaves out of Ririka’s hair, then cocked her hands again her hips.
“What happened?”
It was a simple question, but the arch of Mary’s eyebrow and the pronounced frown on her face spoke volumes. Mary tapped her foot impatiently, and Ririka understood without words that Mary was waiting for her to spill the beans so she would know who to beat up for leaving Ririka in such a disheveled state.
She’d always found Mary’s protectiveness endearing, but something about the heavy weight of her stare now bade Ririka to tilt her head away in embarrassment. “Nothing,” Ririka mumbled, gaze now fixed to the floor.
Mary clucked her tongue, unconvinced. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.”
She could see Mary’s loafers scrape the sidewalk as she advanced towards her. When Mary reached out, Ririka half expected Mary to grab a fistful of her collar. Instead, Mary reached gently for her hand.
“What happened?” Mary asked again, softer this time as she drew close, and hovered noninvasively in Ririka's orbit.
Touch was a gesture of comfort they’d both grown familiar with, even before they started dating in earnest. When Mary reached out to cup the side of Ririka’s cheek, Ririka felt the knot churning her stomach unspool like thread. Her thumb brushed gently against her cheek, featherlight, and Ririka understood that even now, it was an invitation to divulge, and not a command.
They all had their soft spots. What could it hurt, Ririka thought, to try and make Mary understand?
Ririka opened her mouth to answer, but was beaten to the punch when the small bird in her pocket gave a loud chirrup.
It peeked up at Mary from within the pocket of Ririka’s blazer with brown, beady eyes. Mary squinted suspiciously at it. “The hell’s that?” she snapped her fingers and pointed accusingly at it like she was beholding the spawn of Satan.
Ririka felt a protectiveness surge up from within. In an instant, she slapped Mary’s accusatory hand away. “Her name’s Mary.”
Mary gaped incredulously at her.
“Her name’s what-?!”
It trotted cheerfully about the table between their steaming bowls of ramen like the ruler of a small kingdom. It happily gobbled up the small piece of meat Ririka had shredded with her chopsticks. Eventually, it climbed into Ririka’s mask, flopped over, and decided to take a nap. Ririka gently laid two pieces of tissue over it like a makeshift blanket, all while Mary gaped at her with the most incredulous expression.
Ririka couldn’t help how her cheeks darkened under Mary’s judgmental stare.
“Okay first of all,” Mary seethed and aggressively sprinkled chili flakes into her steaming hot bowl of ramen. “She shouldn’t even be on the dining table! Think of the germs! Who knows where she’s even been!”
“I… she’s clean!” Ririka insisted as she reached for a piece of fried gyoza with her chopsticks. “I gave her a bath.”
“You what?”
“I gave her a tea bath,” Ririka answered matter-of-factually, mouth still half full.
“When? How!?”
“Just before you showed up. Now shush. Don’t wake her.”
“Ugh. Fine, I won’t!” Mary grumbled and rolled her eyes. “I’m not a monster…”
“I know you’re not,” Ririka reassured her as she reached across the table to hold her girlfriend’s hand.
“Okay,” Mary said, placated and pleased with the reassurance. It made Ririka smile, the tell-tale sign of her vibrant blush. “But you better explain after we’re done eating! We can’t even visit the cat cafe anymore, they would just-! Eat her or something!”
Between them, the makeshift blanket of two-ply tissue paper rose and fell rhythmically as their charge dozed, blissfully unaware of the chaos it had wrought.
It was almost dark by the time they finished their early dinner. All that was left of the sun was a sliver of dusky gold light that bisected the earth and the sky.
“I… I couldn’t find a nest nearby,” Ririka explained as she fiddled with her hands. Sat on a bus stop bench by the side of the road, she gazed down at her lap, where the baby bird was still sleeping peacefully in her upturned mask. “Or any sign of its parents, either.”
“Okay. So that explains why you looked like you just stumbled out of a hurricane.” Mary harrumphed. She stood directly in front of Ririka, arms crossed as she looked between the bird and her girlfriend, a frown on her face.
“Well, what do you plan to do now?” Mary asked.
“I’m not going to abandon it.” It surprised even Ririka, how quickly she answered: brusque and firm as she tilted her head up and met Mary’s questioning gaze with not an ounce of hesitation.
They shared a charged look that spanned a few heartbeats. “I’m not going to abandon it, no matter what,” Ririka reiterated, cementing the notion in both body and mind, even as she prepared for blowback.
Mary was always so vividly expressive. Even now, Ririka thought, her heart catching in her throat as she openly admired how Mary’s eyes widened in surprise, and a small smile made the corner of her lips twitch.
“Alright, then. Have you ever had a pet?” Mary’s follow-up question was earnest and bare of pretense or condescension.
Under Mary’s keen-eyed stare, Ririka felt her cheeks warm. Vulnerability was something neither were used to openly giving. Hyakkaou Academy had made sure of that. But honesty was something they both strove for. In spite of, or maybe because of how their partnership began: that winding and rickety road fraught with missteps and distrust before they understood each other and began dating in earnest.
At the end of the day, Ririka trusted Mary to deal with the facts at hand, even in the face of possible disagreement, even beyond the gambling tables, here and now.
“No,” Ririka confessed after a thoughtful pause. “We have koi at the estate, but… I’ve never looked after them.”
“Well,” Mary began. She paused to sigh before she slid into the bench, and Ririka held her breath as she looked furtively up at Mary with hooded eyes. Her lips pursed into a thin line. How would Mary react? What would she say? It was hard to tell. They both wore their hearts on their sleeves in their own way.
They’d come so far together, but the underlying facts remained: they were starkly different people, with wildly different backgrounds. Sometimes, Ririka wondered if Mary had any regrets throwing her lot in with a Momobami. In her darker moments, sometimes Ririka wondered, if Mary would ever encounter a conundrum so absurd, she would decide to walk away and never look back…
“I won’t lie and say that caring for a pet is easy. It’s a commitment. There’s a lot to worry about,” Mary continued. “But hey, there’s a first time for everything. And I’ll be right beside you, to help.”
It wasn’t an outright confession of love, but Ririka understood Mary’s intent when she saw the affection shining in her eyes. They turned to face each other with a languid familiarity. When Mary reached for her hand, Ririka felt her heart sing the way a harp does, when its strings are plucked.
She wasn't the best with words. In truth, neither was Mary. But what they lacked in tact, Ririka like to believe, they made up for with heartfelt sincerity.
Ririka surprised them both by cupping the sides of Mary’s cheek to draw her into a kiss. Mary’s yelp of surprise dissolved into a pleased hum as she leaned into the kiss. Thank you, Ririka thought, and sighed in soft relief against Mary’s lips.
Mary’s grin was jaunty and uncharacteristically sheepish when Ririka pulled apart. No doubt Mary was embarrassed by the outward show of sappiness, the way her cheeks turned ruddy and warm. She laughed breathlessly, still trying to find her footing. In its rarity, it was beautiful to behold, like the sight of a finicky flower picking the dead of winter to bloom.
They hadn’t been dating for very long. And so sometimes, these odd moments would catch Ririka by sweet surprise. Firsts and seconds and thirds, each experience and memory fresh, but familiar, too and comforting in the way that home always feels.
When Ririka licked her lips and smiled fondly at the familiar taste of Mary’s lip-gloss, Mary made a grand show of lifting a fist up to her mouth as she cleared her throat. If the gesture was intended to help Mary regain her composure, it didn’t work. Cause by now, the blush had edged its way down her neck.
It made want to Ririka smile, again. And so she did. She didn't stop there. Instead, she chased the momentum, that warm pull of gravity, and leaned forward again to press a chaste kiss against Mary's soft cheek. Rirka took an immense satisfaction from admiring the way Mary’s blush darkened, and how she bravely soldiered on.
Don’t worry,” Mary said, after a beat passed, and she had combed back her messy fringe to recompose herself. And the way the words curved in Mary’s mouth felt like another promise between them. “We’ll figure it out along the way.”
The thing not many people got to experience with Mary (human Mary) was that beneath her bluster and insolence, she was secretly a big softy. She would grumble and grouse, but at the end of the day, she would be right by Ririka’s side when she needed her. Like here and now at the pet shop, where Mary was grilling an unfortunate young man about—
“What do you mean it’s a baby chicken?” Mary seethed as she waved the bag of chicken feed in the face of the pet shop attendant. “How is that even possible? There aren’t any farms nearby!”
A chicken, hm? Ririka hummed. One surprise after another. The strangest thing was, this was far from the craziest thing that had happened to them.
“Miss, please lower your voice,” insisted the frazzled young man.
“I’ll calm down when you start making sense!”
“Please, you’re upsetting the lizards!”
Ririka heaved a sigh, and wiped the slight smile off her face. Then she stopped watching in wry amusement to intervene.