Shiny and reflective. Blossom’s eyes were glaring out this elegant window, standing atop a stool of sorts. She was supposed to be wiping it with the rag she had pressed against it; but instead, she simply stood and stared.

The world beyond this manor-estate was…dark, for it was night. But she could see in the distance afar…the lights of that small village closest to this manor—a village from which House Berrybottom often recruited despite it not being directly tied.

The halls of this manor itself were…rather dimly lit, with the majority of the light being sourced from the atmosphered moon shining with glory high in the sky. Normally, Blossom would often find herself staring at the moon at such hours, pondering its existence. She had heard many times that the moon…was not just some puffy glistening thing in the sky, but another world…like here.

Yet this night, she paid little attention to the moon; this night, she paid little attention to any such sceneries she normally would, such as…the realization of how large this manor’s exterior courtyard truly was.

This night was the last night of Summer’s Fatigue—the eighth month of the year—and thus was the first night of Autumn’s Eve—the ninth month of the year. As with that night of Summer’s Arrival more than two months prior—or roughly the summer solstice which marked the end of the sixth month, Summer’s Awakening, and the beginning of the seventh month, Summer’s Light—this night of Summer’s Transition was also a night of…festive celebration.

However, no doubt, such festives…would not be the same as they had been before, given certain happenings. No doubt, Summer laid upon a throne of salt…over what had transpired on the dawn of her season.

Yet such did not concern House Berrybottom nor those who were further from the coast. Even that village afar seemed to be up to some form of celebratory antics. Village celebrations were…always more humble than that of the cities—by no means quiet, but certainly communal. Blossom knew such things very well… She had spent more time in such villages than cities throughout much of her life.

Regardless, this day…this night…was one of allowed freedom. The manor was so quiet and…empty, indeed. As soon as morning had dawned, all of the Berrybottoms had departed and…went off to the city near to partake in the vice baron’s own celebrations. There, no doubt, noble politicking would be taking place in addition to such festive celebrations.

Many of the senior maids had also taken an off-day; those whose families were near…had left to visit them; those whose families were not…simply relaxed. Though, this only begged one simple inquiry: if all the senior maids and other service staff were taking an off-day, who would attend to all those necessary chores?

The answer, of course, was so obvious…

“Hrmm…” Blossom’s breaths grumbled as she stared out the window… She was rather…grumpy, suffice it to say.

Though, at the very least, all the juniors were allowed their own…freedom of organizing themselves and acting more independently for once; there was not an overseeing maid staring down their necks all of the time. Perhaps…not to Blossom’s surprise, the absence of such a stressful figure…actually made working much easier, at least for her. Expectations were lower, likewise; they were allowed to gossip, chat, relax, and screw around—within reason.

Nevertheless, Blossom was still…grumpy; though, not because the juniors were left to do all the work, no…

She was hoping, admittedly, to…be able to use this free day to…perhaps…maybe…strike a conversation with that ‘Billhook’ character, only to…find his room empty…along with that of all the other Berrybottoms. They had left earlier than she had awoken, seemingly.

She had thus spent all day…doing menial things to pass her time, unable to find Miranda anywhere to keep her mind…out of its brooding self. Now she stood atop that very stool, not to clean this window that had already been cleaned, but to…‘clean’ the window of this hall which so happened to be…right near Billhook’s room with…perhaps…the hope that, when he does inevitably return, she could…bump into him or something. Yet it was well into the night, and still…no one has returned. Thus, she remained atop that stool...

Her behavior, quite frankly, was strange…even to herself.

Ever since that day not-so-long ago she had first…heard those words of his, she wanted to talk to him… She did not even know why really…despite that feeling of wanting to. And every passing day that she did not speak to him only made that…desire stronger and more…weird.

And this day, she believed, would be her only free day to really…be able to do that on her own. Tomorrow would be a return to that regimented schedule and monotonous routine.

“Hrmm…” Her grumbles only became more grumbly. “They’re going to be absent for the whole night, aren’t they?” she muttered… Her window ‘cleaning’ became more…irritated.

She could wait a month-and-half or two until she was finally taken off the training leash and allowed relative independence, or, even better, simply wait until the end of this short month of twenty-three days for the festives of Autumn’s Arrival—the equinox—at the month’s end.

Yet…she was impatient. She wanted to speak to him now. Not tomorrow, not at Autumn’s Beginning, not next month, right now.

What if he were to be married off within that timeline, or sent off to the war? Or…what if someone else gets to him first? Indeed, that thought entered her mind… What if he was…doing…things with…someone else…right now… For both commoners and nobles alike, such celebratory festives were moments were…people…would…meet…

Blossom’s face turned pink as her heart began to beat; she more rapidly wiped at the window, shaking her head to get these invading thoughts out.

Her thinking, quite frankly, was erratic…even to herself. She had yet to even speak to him once, yet she was nevertheless still so…

“Poke!” So suddenly did a piercing poke lance itself into her side, gently yet still enough to cause rather the spook; Blossom nearly fell off the stool in startled surprise. “Caused quite the spook there! Hehehe!” Immediately, such mischievous giggling ensued.

Blossom, steading herself, quickly turned and looked…seeing the figure that had so spontaneously appeared behind as if materializing from the very nightly shadows around.

“Miranda…?” she more blurted than said.

“Who else, who else?” Miranda replied with a pleasant smile.

Blossom had already kind of noticed this before, but…something about Miranda’s…appearance—her purplish-magenta eyes and dark-turquoise hair—matched the night, somehow, in such a strange way; it was hard to describe, really. But her eyes especially seemed to sometimes…stick out in the dark, with a faint glow around the irises.

“…where…have you been? I haven’t seen you…all day” Blossom immediately asked…albeit quietly, slightly relieved but also…slightly pissed.

Miranda’s eyes drifted to the side, her finger gently tapping her chin; “Hmm…” she cogitated; “Well, I’ve been around… I’ve got my own…personal matters too, you know? And sometimes I need some private me time, if you understand what I mean” she replied.

“…I do not…understand… Do you mean to say… I don’t…” Blossom…struggled to understand.

“…” Miranda looked at her; “Sometimes you really do have that ‘sheltered princess’ aspect to your character” she remarked in tease.

Blossom immediately tensed somewhat, becoming slightly nervous; “Oh… I… suppose so…” she replied.

Miranda sighed; “Well…anyway, let’s go for a nice walk, shall we? Hall’s empty and it’s just the two of us… Pretending to wipe the windows won’t bring Billhook back any faster, Pink” thus she said.

Blossom’s eyes retreated; “I wasn’t waiting for him, I was attending—” she was saying, but…

“Pink, it’s so obvious! Every single time your eyes could catch a glimpse of him, you would not stop staring” Miranda cut her off, before leaning closer… “You are developing a…thing for him, aren’t you?” she said, quieter.

“Huh?” Blossom blushed; “N-no, obviously not! I would never” she defended herself.

“Hmmm?” Miranda leaned in even closer; “You know, every other girl here can’t stop squeeming about how much one son or the other puts them in heat, yet you…are so…defensive… What’s wrong with a girl falling for a handsome man?”

“Hrrm” Blossom grumbled, her eyes remaining evasive; “I am not like them…”

Miranda stared… “…literally every girl in all the thousand realms believes they are not like every other girl, Pinky” she countered in friendly tease.

Blossom grumbled even more… This conversation was starting to…annoy her, quite frankly. “No, I meant I am literally not like them…” she stated.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Hmm?” Miranda leaned in ever-closer, now curious; “How so? What do you mean?”

Blossom’s face began to scowl, annoyance turning to irritation; “Stop asking me these things! And stop assuming I am like any other…freaking girl who drools over a dumb…stupid nobleman without thought!” she did…not snap, though she certainly nearly got there… Her voice was rather frustrated and…defensive, indeed.

Miranda…went silent, before sighing again; “Alrightly, alrightly… Maybe I pushed slightly too far, sorry about that… Sometimes my mouth moves ahead of me too” she apologized; “Now come on, let’s go for a walk… Get some fresh nightly air—I know a good place on the upper floor” she said again.

Blossom, tensions within calming, exhaled; “Fine… Sure…” she mumblingly acquiesced, before stepping down from that stool, placing the cleaning rag on top. “A walk…sounds nice” she…admitted.

Miranda smiled, gesturing; “Follow, follow! If you want to talk, talk… But I would forewarn that you should…save your breaths for the stairs ahead, hehe…”

-|-

A balcony patio…place of sorts, one that was at the highest level of a small, yet tall, tower located atop of this otherwise…not-so-tall manor-estate. The nightly air blew through Blossom’s hair and face…as soon as that door was so opened… Was it a door, or an openable window? She did not know… But her eyes widened as she stepped to the wooden railings, gazing to all that which her sight could behold…

And what a sight it was indeed. This tower was clearly made for this precise view.

Even though they were not truly that high up compared to where she had been before, nevertheless…the sight felt different… So much things she could see both close and afar. The village, the mountains, the forests and trees, the stars, that milky cosmic stream, and the moon shining up high…

Indeed, she almost felt as if she were on top of the whole world…

“Are we…allowed to be here? I don’t think…we are…” Blossom asked, her eyes unable to withdraw from the sight.

Miranda, stepping in and leaning against the wooden railings in kind, simply eyed; “Nope… But nobody’s here to prohibit us, and nobody cares on days like this… Summer’s season is ending, and Autumn gets to have her chance by Eve’s end…” she replied. “Though, since when have you cared about what is and is not allowed?”

Blossom let out a tiny smile; “I didn’t say that I cared, I was…just wondering…” she replied. Her eyes finally withdrew from the sight ahead, glancing at Miranda; “Sorry about…earlier, I didn’t mean to become so…” she was apologizing.

“Bitchy?” Miranda interposed in blunt tease.

“Yeah…” Blossom sighed.

“Hmm… Are you having your bleed?” Miranda abruptly asked.

“Heh?” Blossom was taken aback, her face pinkifying; “N-no? I am not… W-why?”

“So… what’s whispering in your head, then?” Miranda asked; “You are not typically so…belligerent, at least specifically not with me…”

Blossom’s eyes…looked away; she began to stare at the sights ahead, leaning over the wooden railings even more, silent.

Miranda was silent in kind, not intruding upon Blossom’s clear contemplations… Though, the silence did perhaps go on for too long.

“I know that we have not truly known each other for that long…” Miranda finally began to speak, “But… I hope you can trust me—my pointy ears are always ready to hear”.

“Hmm…” Blossom mumbled, acknowledging though her mind was still…contemplating. “…I just…don’t understand how everyone can celebrate so easily…another festive, after everything that happened” thus her thoughts began to escape…

“What do you mean?” Miranda gently asked.

Blossom…went silent, before…sighing; “Coastfield… You heard of what happened there, rightly?”

Miranda shrugged; “Honestly, where I am from, we wouldn’t know what a ‘Coastfield’ would be, but… I have been out of that…area for a long while now, so… Yeah, I know what happened there—I’m certain even the most remotest of serf-villages have heard by now” she replied.

“Hmm…” Blossom retreated back into her thoughts, going silent momentarily. “Yeah…” thus she began to speak once more, “it was…destroyed, literally, during a night like this… Tens of thousands…gone… But everyone can still celebrate as if nothing happened… Makes me wonder if they even care…”

“Well, why do you care?” Miranda inquired…

“I… I don’t care… I don’t care” Blossom…reiterated, perhaps…speaking more to herself than to Miranda, to be frank. “It just…confuses me that…everyone can be so happy and blissful and distracted, which is…exactly what…allowed… you know… an entire city to be destroyed; I think…this is all so…stupid…”

“Hm…” Miranda mumbled, eyes glancing; “So… You suggest that everyone should…live in paranoid fear and—” she was saying, yet…

“N-no! That is not what I am saying… I didn’t say that!” Blossom immediately became defensive.

Miranda…realized quickly that she had…spoken poorly. “S-sorry… Sorry about that” she apologized. Now was not the time to have Blossom question the nature of her own thoughts, indeed.

Blossom…calmed, her eyes retracting back to the nightly sights… She went silent again, still enthralled in her mind, though…now more closed than open.

Miranda sighed; “Coastfield… I have the inference that you’re bringing it up for…not just…recent events… Was it your home?” she gently inquired.

Blossom…took a moment to reply; “N… No, it wasn’t… I never been there, but…”—she paused—“I guess to say… I have…ties there… So, I cannot…help but feel…weird… I guess to say…” she…admitted.

“Hm…” Miranda went silent; her eyes stared out into the nightly world beyond, seeing that village afar…with such obvious celebratory delight. “Well, ever stopped to wonder that…maybe it’s a good thing?” thus she remarked.

Blossom glanced, confused… “Huh? What do you mean?” she asked.

“That everyone can…still be so happy and celebrative, despite everything that happened… That days like this haven’t been completely ruined because of…some devious alien—forgive my tongue—assholes… It shows a point in a way, that no matter what the whole world wants to do them, they will stay true to their ways, undeterred…” thus Miranda warmly remarked.

“Hm…” Blossom mumbled as she…pondered away… “Maybe…”

Miranda gently sighed yet again; “Do you normally think so deeply about such heavy-heavy subjects, Pinky?”

“My mother always said that I…can be trapped in my heart; that I think too much yet too little…” Blossom replied.

Miranda giggled; “Yes… I might concur with that; you seem to be so” she remarked. Her eyes then glanced at Blossom; “I am starting to see it, maybe… You aren’t like ordinary commoner girls; you somehow convey yourself as both a village peasant yet also…a flowery princess, and you seem kind of educated” she stated.

“Maybe not exactly like…that… But, yeah, as I told yo—” Blossom was saying, but…

“You didn’t tell me nothing, girly…” Miranda interrupted; “You are still such a normal girl, as evident by the fact you were planning on pretending to clean one window all day all night until the handsome man crushing your heart returns”.

Blossom’s eyes retracted away again… This time she was not so…annoyed by that remark; indeed, she felt so…calm and…at ease—a common feeling she always seemed to feel whenever Miranda was around…

“Maybe…” she…acknowledged; “I just…wanted to talk to him, that’s all…”

“Hmm?” Miranda leaned in closer with mischievous tease; “You wanted to ‘talk’ to Sir Billhook, alone…in his room, alone… just the two of you…in his room” thus she said, her voice implying quite the…dirty things.

“Yes?” Blossom’s naivety delayed her…comprehension… Then she comprehended…after which she then…comprehended. Her face turned not pink, but such a blushing red; “W-w-wait, wait… Wait… Wait… Wait! N-n-n-n-no! No, no… No! I just wanted to talk to him! N-not… I am not… Not…” She was starting to sweat and…become dizzy.

“Wowa! Mother of all flustering flusters… That is such a fluster” Miranda remarked… She was amused, yet far more surprised; she had never seen Blossom…glitch in such a way.

Blossom breathed the cold nightly air, exhaling and inhaling…in and out, her mind…cooling down. “Sometimes you can be so…needlessly…” she was saying, but…

“Mischievously excessive in my antics?” Miranda completed.

“Yeah…” Blossom exhaled…

Though, her mind no longer flustered, Blossom’s eyes lanced right into Miranda; two could play in such a way. “What about you?” she suddenly asked.

Miranda glanced in kind; “Huh?”

“The youngest… The one all the other girls drool over…” Blossom…did not remember his name.

“You mean…Swordstaff?” Miranda interposed, her voice…shifting slightly upon saying that name.

“Yeah, him… You seem to be drooling over him too… I’ve noticed the way you’ve been looking at him every time you’re able to glimpse… You seem really interested” Blossom remarked, resisting the urge to say yuck…

“Heh…heh…hah, yeah…” Miranda…awkwardly laughed; “I mean, I wouldn’t say…interested, but…perhaps a little…rapt” she…vaguely acknowledged.

Blossom tilted her head; “…ra… Rapt? Wrapped? Wha…what?” She did not know what Miranda was implying; she did not know that word, also.

“Yes, I am…agog and rapt” Miranda replied.

“…” Blossom simply eyed… “Well, you’ve been looking at him weirdly. It’s evident you want to ‘talk’ with him” she began to remark; “I think I actually caught you…drooling once? You grin a lot when you are…into something or someone, I think?”

Miranda stared… “Oh… I see…” her eyes…evaded somewhat; “Yeah… I guess might have developed…some thing for him; I suppose his sort is my…type…” she…admitted…

“Yuck.” Blossom finally blurted; “I truly do not get it… That man-boy is so…eck; I know his types, and they are all…ick” she stated, grimacing from the thought of him and Miranda…together…in the same…

Ew. No. Ew.

“You really do not like him” Miranda remarked.

“Nope.” Blossom so declaratively replied, shaking her head.

“Hmm…” Miranda leaned herself on the wooden railing, arms dangling out practically… “Well, like I said, I guess I have a bit of a thing for…those types of boys and men…” thus she began to say; “Especially those who also have… Well, let’s just say there are…things my eyes can see…which I find attractive… Very attractive… Very alluring… Very…”

Blossom…glanced at Miranda… For whatever reason, she did not really…like the way Miranda was starting to speak… It was awfully…different than her usual tone of voice. That grin developing on Miranda’s face too… One of desire, yet…was it lust or…something else…

“…you’re weird” Blossom blurted.

Miranda immediately snapped out of her…enthralled mind, her eyes shifting to Blossom. “Huh?” She was…actually taken by surprise; “I am weird? Well… Yeah, alrightly, I am a weirdo, but you are also a weirdo, princess Pink” she stated.

“Maybe that’s why we find each other’s company so pleasant” Blossom remarked, smiling.

Miranda, once again, seemed to be struck by this sudden remark. “Wow, you sure can be surprising…” she said, before aheming; “Anyway, as much as I love the night… That is enough of this chatting-chat, we should head back in… I am…rather fatigued, and I am sure you want to get back to your repetitive window-cleaning”.

“Alrightly, sure…” Blossom acknowledged cordially.

“Actually… You…go and head in first, I’ll catch up…” Miranda…said, breaths slightly more…tense.

“Huh?” Blossom…was confused; “Why?”

“…need some extra time alone, please… Don’t worry, I am not going to jump down…” Miranda replied.

Blossom began to step away; “Oh… I…understand, I am like that too… Sometimes a damsel needs to be alone” she remarked; “though, sometimes a damsel needs a friend… And I have been alone all day”.

Miranda…could not help but giggle; “Yes, yes… I know, I know, you’re unable get enough of me—I am just that charming… But, as I said, I’ll catch up; it’ll only be a few minutes… Just wait by the stairway” she said with a charm.

Blossom smiled; “Alrightly…” she acknowledged, before…finally opening that window of a door, exiting this balcony patio place.

The door shut behind as Miranda swiftly sighed; breathing in and out, she leaned over the railings… “Don’t get attached, don’t get attached, don’t get attached, I won’t…get attached…” thus she whispered over and over, before taking a deep…deep breath, eyes gazing up at the night sky; “Mother… I can feel your warmth… Don’t worry, I’ll distance myself for a little… I’ll be fine… I’ll be fine…”

Ah, yet getting attached and becoming close

Such is precisely the point