Falling Always In Tune [CLOSED]

[divinated]

Characters: Yuuko Ichihara and Kimihiro Watanuki
Content: A farewell that was a long time coming.
Setting: Yuuko's shop, Bellcius
Time: A year and a half ago or so
Warnings: Well, it's Yuuko.

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[flailingbento]

Watanuki's arrival was preceded by a gust of wind that swept through the vestibule and into the house as he shoved the door open and hurried inside. The early spring winds weren't kind this time of year; they followed him through the streets, pulling at his clothes, pushing him to walk faster in directions he hadn't intended. It made him feel restless; something he, who spent so much time wishing things in his life were more peaceful, was not used to. He breathed a sigh as he kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his coat. The air in the shop, though cold, was at least still.

He moved to the main room, sliding the door open smoothly and bowing to the woman draped like a fallen flower on the couch.

"Good afternoon," he said, as he had almost every day for the previous five years. "I'm reporting for work." He pasued in the doorway, waiting for her to acknowledge him.

[divinated]

The woman eyed him through a cloud of smoke, her gaze focusing on him, but not for long. Today was eerie. Something was going to happen, and she had a feeling she knew what it was. But now was not the time to bring it up. She adjusted her elbow along the cushion, black tendrils slipping over her shoulder like silk.

"Good afternoon," parroted the enchantress, hand hovering by her face with the pipe. "Windy?"

[flailingbento]

Watanuki resisted the urge to flatten his hair, which must be even messier than usual. "It's windier than it's been all year," he replied, stepping into the room. He was used to the scent of opium and the clouds that hovered close to the ceiling, but the presence of Yuuko was something that still made him uneasy. He didn't know how he could tell that she was preoccupied; maybe it was something strange in the way she didn't look at him today as opposed to how she didn't look at him other days, or a shift in posture he couldn't name, or just a tangling in the invisible threads of fate that surrounded her like an aura in Watanuki's mind.

Not that she would share with him what she was thinking even on the best of days. If it concerned him, she would tell him. There was no use asking before.

"Can I bring you something before I start cleaning?" he asked. "Tea, or something to eat...?"

[divinated]

"Do we have any leftover crème brulée...?" She didn't seem to be asking Watanuki as she turned to look to the kitchen, her eyes distant -- as they often were. Whether or not there was any left didn't matter. These last five years, spent with him either offering, or her ordering her around, often revolved around food. It'd become a habit. Not that she wouldn't have minded anything...

But something was afoot, and Yuuko was hardly stupid.

"Hmm. Some steeped tea would be nice, too."