Archive of Our Own ^beta

Spring. Shinbashi’s favorite season. It’s when footsteps sound most clear on pavement and when the birds sing their bravest. The sun grows closer ; the world warms in turn. Fresh buds and baby animals crawling out from their nests for the first time. Enjoying their small, tenuous lives. Shinbashi loves the spring.

His days as a schoolboy, carrying instruments and textbooks to class. His school’s uniform’s loafers pat-pattering on the pavement in a lively rhythm. Smiles between friends. Brushing knuckles. Spring means both good-byes in March and hellos in April.

As an adult, Shinbashi swears to himself he’ll never forget those times. It’s part of what draws him into education, above all other things, and what inspires him to connect with other young souls who are eager for their own first flight. He remembers stretching his wings for the first time.

He has a new opportunity today. The daughter of the Shoukomiya family has finally reached an age of stretching her own wings into the world of knowledge, and word has been fluttering about that the family is hoping for a tutor. Shinbashi taps his briefcase smartly against his thighs as he walks, high on the prospect of meeting another future scholar.

At the café across the street, he sees that he’s the first to arrive. Good. Parents often like attentive, prompt, and accessible persons for their tutors. Shinbashi puts in his name and finds a table in the sunshine. Hums to himself as he thinks about which tea he’ll like to order once his potential clients arrive.

First day of the job. First day… First day of the job. First day of the job!

Shinbashi futzes with his tie knot for the umpteenth time this morning, peering at the faint reflection in the tram’s glass window. It’s the first day of the job. He has to look spectacular. He already spent an hour on his hair, an hour ironing the suit, and a solid ten minutes cussing out the fucker who bumped into him at the tram stop.

He’s heard a lot about Lily, at this point. She’s an utter angel, according to her parents, and a “quiet, frail thing,” according to Shinbashi’s other clients. Gossip amongst the nobles says that she’s too weak-willed to inherit her parents’ appraisal company. The Kanagawas, at least, had mockingly chatted to each other about how a scared little girl could possibly weigh the worth of bloodstones or tourmalines when scared of her own selenite.

Shinbashi is eager to meet her.

The Shoukomiya Estate is in one of the upper districts of the city, and it requires quite the amount of time riding the tram to reach it. There’s only one tram station for the entirety of the Blue Bell District, owing to how many of its residents simply elect to use private transportation. And, so, Shinbashi has to walk up the remainder of the hill until he reaches the beautiful, cast-iron gate of the appropriate residence.

Around this district, each residence is easily more than just a few acres. So, when Shinbashi is buzzed in, he walks through a lush and impossibly floral garden for quite some time – on weaving and maze-like brick paths – until he passes through a banister of black-eyed susan vines – and suddenly finds himself before an expansive and lovely brick porch.

The building’s white exterior walls are tall and grand. The columns that frame the tall doorway are amazingly carved with little flower patterns all the way to the top. But even more arresting is the man that stands at the side of it all, tall like a classical statue and with a jaw just as finely chiseled. He wears a pressed black uniform and a small, almost dainty little piece of crimson silk folded into a dapper-looking little flower upon his lapel.

Their eyes meet.

Shinbashi feels his breath leave his body.

“… Are you here for the tutorship?”

Shinbashi feels his hands wobble on his briefcase. To think… a man so perfect in appearance could also sound so… Shinbashi tries to steady himself. It’s the first day of the job.

“Yeah!” he chirps, flashing his most charming grin. “Name’s Shinbashi Arata.” Seeing the way that not a flash of emotion crosses the man’s handsome features, Shinbashi bites his lip. Okay. Okay. He’s got this. “How, um, how ‘bout yourself?”

The man looks down at him for a moment before clearing his throat. “You may go straight in. I believe the Master and Mistress are in the parlor awaiting you.”

Ooh, a cold-and-serious type. Shinbashi feels a shudder go through him. “Aw, c’mon,” he smiles. “I imagine we’ll be seeing each other frequently, after all. Might as well give me a name to call you!”

No response. Shinbashi feels a little of his cheer wilt.

“Master Shinbashi?” someone clears their throat behind him. Shinbashi spins around, finding himself facing a young gardener, not much older than himself. “What, um. What are you doing?”

“Huh? Just introducin’ myself, of course! Mr. Silent over here is refusin’ to tell me his name. You wouldn’t happen to know yourself?” He flashes and triumphant grin at the silent man, who barely blinks.

“Wh- Th…” The gardener clears his throat. “If you would step inside, Mr. Shinbashi, I do believe the Master and Mistress of the House are waiting.”

Huh? “Oh… Right, my apologies.” How odd. Still, he grins brightly at Mr. Silent. “I’ll be seeing you around, so don’t think you get off easy.”

And, again not receiving an answer, Shinbashi hops on through the front door. Once it closes behind him, Shinbashi releases the breath of air he’s been holding all this time. That was… That was odd, wasn’t it?

Shinbashi follows the directions of the house’s gemstone staff all the way into the parlor, where Sir and Lady Shoukomiya are indeed waiting for him. They’re smartly dressed, just as they had been at the café, and they greet him courteously. But Shinbashi’s attention is entirely stolen by the sweet girl sitting on the couch in a lacy white sundress, looking utterly miserable.

“Before we begin,” he breaks the ice, “I just have to say I have one, very firm policy.”

The parents frown, glancing between each other, and Lily frowns up in distrusting confusion at Shinbashi. He winks at her.

“I simply must know what my students’ favorite pastries are. Or are you more of a candy enthusiast?”

She doesn’t seem completely bought over just yet. But when her parents wait expectantly for her answer, she does mumble, “I like raspberry chocolates…”

“Ooh! An excellent choice. I’ll be sure to keep those on my person for our future sessions.”

“See, Lily?” Lady Shoukomiya says approvingly. “I had told you he was a fine gentleman. He’ll be every bit a good replacement for your previous tutor.”

Lily merely frowns down at her sandals.

Shinbashi senses Lady Shoukomiya’s displeasure with her daughter, and, accordingly, he sweeps in to diffuse the hostilities.

“Sir, Lady, I cannot express to you how thankful I am for this opportunity. I cannot wait to begin studies with Lily.”

“Yes,” Lord Shoukomiya responds lightly. “It’s been too long since she’s had guidance. You may find her stubborn and unpleasant to work with at first. That is our fault for not having disciplined her well as a child.”

As a child? Shinbashi privately wonders what world they live in. She’s still twelve, last he checked.

“I do hope in time you’ll be able to extract results.”

Shinbashi grins away the concern and bows slightly. “With all due respect, that’s why you hired me! I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. Won’t we, Lily?” No response. Shinbashi merely winks at Lord Shoukomiya. “May I ask for one month’s grace period?”

“… Grace period?”

“Well, it always takes people a little gettin’ used to a new face,” Shinbashi hurries to explain. “I know Lily and I’ll get along smooth as butter here eventually, but those sorts of friendships are built on time and trust not demand. I just like to ask new clients for a month’s margin of error is all.”

Lady Shoukomiya glances to her husband with a worried frown. “For reduced pay.”

But Lord Shoukomiya simply sighs. “Fine. I’ll pay in full for one month. But if me or my wife isn’t happy with your progress by the end of the month, you’re cut.”

Easy peasy. “No worries, Sir!” Shinbashi cheers. “Everything’ll work out, I’m sure.”

Lily kicks her shoes together, and the corners of her lips turn down. Shinbashi’s heart aches a little for her.

And, so, their first session takes place in her bedroom. Shinbashi lets her relax at her table with tea and a few snacks that Shinbashi requests from the kitchen. Meanwhile, he sits at her desk and pages through her textbooks and notebooks, humming a little tune to himself as he assesses where she’s at in her studies.

He’s lucky in that Lily attends the same private school that one of his former students did, too, at her age. He has a few tricks up his sleeve for these textbooks. And for her instructors, too. He knows that Instructor Meriella is a stickler for showing work in maths, and he knows that Instructor Yulinth is partial to five-paragraph essays.

Eventually, he sits with her at the table and partakes in his own few bites of the shortbread cookies.

“So, Lily,” he slides right into casual conversation. “Which subject is your favorite of them all?”

“… Don’t have one,” she mumbles.

“Really? Not one?”

A small shake of her head.

“Come now, I find that awfully tough to believe. You like maths just as much as you like your history books?”

For a long while, Shinbashi wonders if she’s not going to answer him. But, then, quietly, she says, “They’re both dumb in different ways.”

Shinbashi chuckles. “I suppose I can understand that.” He takes a sip of his tea. “Well. How ‘bout you and I make them a little more fun?

Again, she takes a long time to respond. “Don’t like studying.”

“Shucks, neither did I for the longest time.”

“Yeah, but you’re a tutor now,” she grumbles, like this is some kind of huge betrayal.

“I sure am,” Shinbashi agrees. “But, hey, it’s not so bad. So long as we work together and both put a little elbow grease into this, we can both come out a little better off.”

He’s answered with silence.

They share cookies and tea for a while longer until Shinbashi realizes there’s only an hour left in his allotted time for the day with her. So, he brings the books over to the table and flips open to maths. He learns that she has a difficult time with multiplying fractions – doesn’t seem to understand why multiplying fractions seems to so often make them smaller – and he offers his own visual explanations to ease the process.  

If he’s being honest, he can’t quite judge where they’re at by the end of the session. Shinbashi likes her plenty, and he’s pretty sure the root of her reluctance to do her studies is in thanks to Lady Shoukomiya’s seeming insistence upon perfection. He’s also rather confident in his assessment that she distrusts him purely upon the basis that he was Lady Shoukomiya’s hire.

All of that is fine. It can be whittled away with time, trust-building, and conscious effort on Shinbashi’s part to never mention her mother as a positive or hopeful source of authority.

What has Shinbashi almost concerned, though, are the flinches whenever her selenite comes too close to clear away books. It could make sense – if the selenite were scarier or in some way connected with the Lord or Lady of the house. But it’s a selenite. One of the most fragile gemstones, and it speaks quite gently with Lily.

Shinbashi makes a note to see what he can do about that. Relieving the girl’s anxieties about her caretaker might forge a better working relationship with her altogether.

None of this he mentions to Lady Shoukomiya when she stops by to check in on them and, then, show Shinbashi to the door.

The Lady, she gushes all about Lily’s history with “being lazy” and how she hopes Shinbashi will find a way to invigorate Lily’s dedication. Something that Lady Shoukomiya is quite specific that Lily once was, until she ‘entered her teen phase.’ Shinbashi’s not sure how much of that he believes. Twelve is awfully young for a ‘teen phase,’ and, in his experience, said ‘phases’ are often the result of poor parenting more often than true mal-intent on the side of the child.

Once the door is shut, though, Shinbashi turns back to the guard. This handsome, rough cut of a man : looking like he’s been chiseled from a fine hunk of marble himself.  Whew.

Shinbashi kind of chuckles to himself as he positions himself in front of him.

“Guess we’ll be seeing each other a bunch more, huh?” He twirls his hair a little, really trying to lay his charms down for viewing. “Might as well tell me your name, y’know.”

The man’s distant gaze flickers momentarily : drops down to Shinbashi’s eyes. For a moment, he looks profoundly confused. Then, his gaze trains itself upon some distant spot over Shinbashi’s shoulder. Or, well, head, seeing how tall this man is.

“… Congratulations on the hire.”

“Aw, thank you!” Shinbashi cheers. “But don’t think you can hide from me, Sir. Ya look like a good guy to get drinks with.”

“… I do not drink.”

“Oh, that’s fine!” Shinbashi waves it off. “We can get coffee then, or something else.”

The man’s gaze again flickers. He stares down at Shinbashi with a small frown. But he doesn’t reject Shinbashi, which is the real concern.

Eventually, the man mumbles, “Please have a safe journey home.”

Easily, without having to think about it, it all becomes a routine. Sundays and Thursdays, Shinbashi dedicates his late morning to the trip up into the fancier parts of the city – to the Shoukomiya Estate – and spends three hours with Lily. On his way inside, he admires the blooms of the garden and the handsome features of the porch guard. His silent heart-throb, he refers to the man in his mind.

Every morning, Shinbashi’s sure to greet him warmly. Sometimes, the man refuses to respond. Other times, it’s painfully stilted.

But, the one time Shinbashi runs late and sweeps by with just a smile, his heart-throb frowns. Frowns noticeably enough that Shinbashi backtracks the few steps, just to apologize and say a proper hello. Then, the man’s face evens out.

Softly, he says, “Welcome.”

That one small word – that one small encounter – is enough to keep Shinbashi on his toes from thereon out. Sometimes, he arrives early just to chatter about whatnot to the man. The lack of response doesn’t particularly bother Shinbashi. Lady Shoukomiya is stuck-up to begin with and he wouldn’t be surprised if his heart-throb is completely banned from casual conversation while on shift. And Shinbashi has enough experience with his students to know how to keep a one-sided conversation going.

On the few days that Shinbashi doesn’t have the time to arrive early, he lingers afterwards for these same interactions. Some days, he sits on the porch step and talks about his life for nearly a whole hour. And his heart-throb listens. Occasionally, his eyes slide down to Shinbashi to watch him as he gesticulates through a particularly gripping account of the toaster oven or the tram or whatever it was that irritated Shinbashi on that particular morning.

Shinbashi’s working up to asking the man out for coffee again, one of these days. Lily and him are getting along much better, after all, and there’s no doubt in his mind that he’ll have his contract renewed at the end of this coming Thursday, when the month is up.

“So, y’know, it’s just unfair that they didn’t give me a refund,” Shinbashi prattles on about his story at the café he went to on Friday. “I mean, how does someone not understand that dairy allergies are real and important? I don’t want to have stomach pains all day because they thought I was ordering oat milk to be pretentious!”

A small twitch of his heart-throb’s lips : downwards into the slightest frown possible.

“Were you in pain?”

Shinbashi’s heart flutters. “N- No, thankfully if I don’t drink very much, it doesn’t hurt badly.”

As he struggles to get his heart rate down, hearing his heart-throb express concern for him, he tucks his hair behind an ear.

“A- Anyway,” he clears his throat. “I won’t take you there when we get coffee. There’s a much better place closer to where I live, i- if you’re comfortable with that. Maybe… um. Maybe tomorrow for brunch? If you can get off.”

A long silence then. “I’m not sure I could leave my post.”

“Oh.”

It’s quiet and disappointed. Both of them are, Shinbashi thinks. Or… He likes to think that his heart-throb wants to get coffee with him, too. He’s such a good listener, after all.

“That’s okay,” he saves. “Whenever you’re free, I can make the time.”

Please. God, please. Shinbashi can’t believe how much he wants this one, simple thing.

Even so, his heart-throb’s eyes don’t brighten. They remain focused on something far away. “I am not given free time.”

What? “Huh?” Shinbashi asks. “But everyone gets free time? That’s, like, legally required.”

“… I do not.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous!” Shinbashi stands up. His heart-throb’s eyes finally find him. Those beautiful, golden eyes. “Everyone gets time off. At the very least, sick days.”

“… I do not get sick.”

“You don’t have to be sick to use your sick days! Sometimes, you just request off so you can have fun for a day.” Shinbashi watches the man frown, seeming to consider this.

Suddenly, the front door cracks open.

Lady Shoukomiya stands there, glancing between the two of them, looking immensely displeased. Shit. Shinbashi brushes off his suit, trying to look formal.

“Mr. Shinbashi, what do you think you’re doing?”

Shinbashi tries to crack a smile, but this only seems to infuriate her further. “Sorry, Madam. I just got distracted chatting. I’m sorry to take up your staff’s time. It won’t happen again.”

This does not seem to appease her. “ Chatting?” she repeats like this is the most horrific thing she’s ever heard.

“Mistress,” Shinbashi is surprised to hear his heart-throb interrupt. “I apologize for the intrusion. May I take a ‘sick day’ tomorrow?”

Lady Shoukomiya all but faints. “What?” she breathes like it’s not a question. She clutches onto the doorframe. “My… My word. I.” She turns on Shinbashi. “You’re fired.”

“What?!” Shinbashi exclaims. “I didn’t do anything!”

“You’re a stone licker!” she gasps, slapping her hand over her mouth like her own words scandalized her.

What? Shinbashi has no idea what she means. What is she talking about? Stone licker? He’s never spoken with a stone in his life for more than a few minutes.

“Madam, I don’t understand,” Shinbashi tries. “I’ve never spoken with a stone, much less licked one.”

“What do you call this, then?!”

What? Shinbashi glances at his heart-throb, who suddenly looks painfully emotive. It’s the first time Shinbashi’s seen anything stronger than a ghost of displeasure or confusion. And it stings his heart to see that the emotion is ‘pain.’

“I don’t understand,” he repeats himself. “I was just speaking with your staff.”

“It’s one of our rocks!”

Oh.

Oh.

Shinbashi turns to his… to… Oh. He feels his shoulders sag. Right.

He feels like he can’t hear anything, as the realization settles in. He… He should’ve known ; he should’ve been able to guess. He feels so stupid. He’s worked at many an estate before with stone staff.

He just… never met one that… Well, it wasn’t merely the looks. Shinbashi had found the awkwardness charming. In addition to the almost god-like shadow of his cheekbones. … He had let his guard down.

Eventually, Lord Shoukomiya comes to see what all the fuss is about. He listens to his wife’s side of the story first, as she accuses Shinbashi of all sorts of conniving plans to unite the stones against the estate and trying to lure them off the property for illicit activities. But the Lord Shoukomiya, hearing Shinbashi’s shaky explanation that he honestly did not even know, seems much calmer about the issue.

He retracts his wife’s statement, affirming that Shinbashi still has his job. There’s a barbed comment in there about Shinbashi being a man who would spread his legs rather than spread others. But another comment, too, that he’s one of the few people that Lily’s ever warmed up to.

It seems his daughter’s reputation as a good student means more to him than a ‘half’ man.

Shinbashi leaves the estate in shambles. And, as he turns to leave, he sees in the corner of his eye the stone’s – the black tourmaline’s – lips tighten with disappointment. Shit. He hurries along, clutching his briefcase tightly, and wonders what the hell he’s expected to do now.

Shinbashi decides to do nothing. As far as Lord Shoukomiya is concerned, this was all a dumb misunderstanding thanks to Shinbashi being ‘lesser.’ Shinbashi is not an invalid, nor has he committed any social sacrilege. So, Shinbashi has to embrace that. But, he also has to keep himself from sharing a single kindness with that stone again.

Unless he wants his entire reputation and career destroyed with no way to ever claw back into steady pay. Word spreads fast in the city, and word about stone lickers the fastest.

On Thursday, when Shinbashi hurries for his session with Lily, he doesn’t greet the black tourmaline at the door. He keeps his head down, feeling shame and guilt bubble up in his chest, and brushes on through the door. The tourmaline doesn’t make a noise. Maybe it’s for the best.

Shinbashi steels himself as he walks through the long, marble-floored halls of the mansion. It is for the best. Because if the tourmaline were to try to revive what they had had together, it would spell the end of Shinbashi’s career and likely get itself shattered. Shinbashi doesn’t know how he feels – about having embarrassed himself with affections for something that isn’t even human – but he doesn’t wish to see it shattered because of him.

Human or not – stone or not – Shinbashi had found his presence enjoyable. He doesn’t think a semantic sort of genesis background should undermine something as on-the-grounds as true interaction.

He finds Lily in her bedroom, where she usually is, and settles his nerves by offering her the small box of raspberry chocolates he bought along the way here. Her eyes sparkle in a rare display of glee. And, closing the door to the bedroom, Shinbashi lets her snack on a few of them as he reviews her assignments from this week.

She needs to review her ability to chart equations. And they should read together to catch up on what literature she’s been procrastinating on. But altogether, her marks are better than they have been. Her mother may whine and complain about the occasional missing grade for an assignment Lily didn’t want to do, but that’s fine by Shinbashi. So long as Lily can maintain an A for prettiness on paper and enjoy her lessons otherwise, he’s happy.

Judging by the way she’s gone through two-thirds of the chocolates already, Shinbashi would bet she’s enjoying this lesson, at least.

There are other aspects to Lily’s education that Shinbashi’s in charge of, though. It’s not all about her grades, unfortunately for her. There’s a desire from her father for punctuality, for professionalism, and for maturity that’s simply a reach to request from a twelve-year-old who had no real threats to grow up quickly for.

In any case, he made a specific request that Shinbashi begin a separate style of lessons for her on business practices, in addition to preparing her for balls and interaction amongst guests of all sorts. Today, Shinbashi asks her what she’d like to begin with. With a pout, she asks if they can have a day off. Shinbashi promises her they can go outside and draw with chalk if she finishes a lesson first. She pouts and chooses maths.

And so it goes.

For their time together, they complete their maths and go outside to the back gardens to draw with chalk on the sidewalks. She draws more flowers. Shinbashi draws bees. Then, they read their literature. Draw a few more flowers. Eat a few more chocolates. She doesn’t like when they crack open the nut that is business talk. Neither does Shinbashi, and he whispers this to her as a secret for them to share.

At the end, he packs up his things and gives her a wink, reminding her to hide those chocolates so she doesn’t get in trouble.

One of the staff escorts Shinbashi to the front door. At which a flood of emotions begins to once again pool in Shinbashi’s chest.

He just needs to ignore the black tourmaline. Just walk straight past and leave. When the door opens, he takes the step down and out of the house. The door closes behind him before he’s even off the porch. But he strides forwards, head down, grip tight on his bag.

To his relief, the black tourmaline doesn’t say anything. Shinbashi escapes – unscathed – for a day.

His luck doesn’t hold out.

On Sunday, when he attempts to brush right past like before, his entire resolve crumbles hearing the small clearing of the throat from the gem.

“You are twelve minutes early.”

Shinbashi curls his fingers into fists. He can’t do this. If someone hears them…

But, at the same time, he knows what the stone means. Even if it lacks the emotional capacity to express a desire clearly. It’s noting that he’s early because whenever Shinbashi’s early, he chatters to it about nothing significant.

Shinbashi swallows the lump in his throat. “Got a lotta stuff to cover today.”

With that, he flees. On the way out, he’s forced to face the small frown on the tourmaline’s face and the magnetic glow of its golden eyes as they linger on him. From the door until Shinbashi vanishes beyond the trellises, he feels those eyes on him.

It’s a sick game they play like this. Eventually, Shinbashi gathers the courage to appease the gem’s desire for conversation with a clipped, “Lovely weather today,” or a small, “You should stand under the archway more when it rains… to not ruin the uniform.” Nothing of importance. Nothing significant. But Shinbashi can see the ghost of the frown that floats to the tourmaline’s lips if Shinbashi ever forgets. He tries not to forget.

These small kindnesses that Shinbashi ought to not encourage… it’s not enough to rid the tourmaline of the emptiness on its face or in its eyes. It’s not overt or incriminating, Shinbashi supposes. If any of the human staff – such as the gardener – were to overhear, it wouldn’t be enough to get Shinbashi in any further trouble. But it makes Shinbashi’s throat tighten with guilt, knowing he’s extending to the tourmaline something that it will never receive again. Teasing it and tormenting it with a promise of a relationship that could just… never happen.  

Shinbashi keeps his chin down – his eyes lowered – and hurries across the porch with each day he arrives at the estate.

It’s a long and miserable month that this tension holds. Shinbashi comes and goes. The tourmaline watches him. Shinbashi makes his small comments. The tourmaline doesn’t reply. Save for one Thursday, when Shinbashi lightly remarks on the beauty of the day, and the tourmaline replies with a small, observing, “There are few clouds in the sky.” Shinbashi’s chest is wracked with guilt, and he hurries along.

His feelings for it don’t outweigh the social faux-pas of interacting with stones as equals. And there is the undeniable fact that it is a stone, not some poor and miserable fellow human.

Can it even understand Shinbashi when he talks? Knowing now that it was likely cut soon after mining, Shinbashi isn’t so sure. Other stones he’s met certainly don’t seem to understand more than commands. Perhaps that’s why the tourmaline was always so unresponsive to Shinbashi’s stories before.

And, yet, at the same time, Shinbashi remembers the small way it watched his gesticulations and followed along with his stories. Asking if Shinbashi felt okay, when the café botched his non-dairy order.

He wishes there were some way to make all of this right. If only he could take it all back or he could save the tourmaline from its memories of him. Either would be preferable to this weird purgatory, surely. But at the same time, Shinbashi can’t bear the thought of its stone – wherever its kept on the estate – being sanded down further. Maybe he’s selfish. But Shinbashi doesn’t think he could handle it losing these last whispers of personality.

He loves Lily, truly. But without the black tourmaline waiting for him at the door, coming to this estate for tutoring would feel much emptier. Even if it’s painful as is.

Maybe Shinbashi’s just crazy. Maybe when he tried flirting with something as magical as a living stone, he got corrupted – no, enchanted. Corruption is too ugly a word for the innocence of the black tourmaline’s golden eyes. It must have been enchantment.

Or maybe Shinbashi’s just… too weak for handsome men.

It’s nearing June, and the weather is warm, sunny, and pleasant. Shinbashi can tell that Lily’s antsy for her studies to be over for the academic year, as her focus on her books is increasingly rare. She wants to go outside and run around. He gets it. He also knows that Lady Shoukomiya would throw a fit if she saw Lily ‘rough-housing’ rather than paying attention to such important things as fractions.

Shinbashi tries to find a middle ground. He offers that they work outside for a change, the next time he arrives, and Lily’s eyes light up.

“Can we have a garden tea party?”

“Sure thing!” Shinbashi agrees. That certainly sounds like a way to liven their usual routine. And, then, he finds himself suggesting, “How about we use the front porch’s garden table?”

To his surprise, Lily frowns a little.

“I don’t like going out front.”

“Why not?”

She kicks her shoes together. “I don’t like the stone at the door.”

Shinbashi’s black tourmaline. The black tourmaline. Is Shinbashi allowed to call it his? He used to, when it was ‘his heart-throb,’ but ‘his tourmaline’ sounds… Shinbashi isn’t sure if it sounds more objectifying or more socially horrifying.

“Why don’t you like him?” Shinbashi almost feels obliged to defend its reputation.

Lily simply shrugs. Oh, but Shinbashi knows that she knows why.

“He’s always been nothing but a gentleman to me,” Shinbashi says lightly. Then winces. Shit, he had called it a ‘he.’ “He- It may look a little scary, standing there with a straight face like that, but he’s- it’s perfectly polite. Even will remark on the weather if you do it first.”

Her frown falls deeper. Oof. Shinbashi hopes he didn’t go a little too strong. Lily’s always sensitive to being ‘proven wrong.’ A remnant of being around her mother too much.

But, in an astounding display of maturity, she quietly asks her selenite to leave the room. And it does, bowing gently from its position by one of the bureaus. Its silver, glittering hair disappears into the hallway, and it even closes the door behind it with the softest, almost inaudible click.

“… I don’t like gems,” Lily whispers. She looks awfully ashamed of herself : chin tucked, small pink lips pouting, eyes down to her sweaty little hands in her lap. On the soft lace of the skirt her mother chose for her.

Shinbashi feels a blossom of sympathy for her.

“Why don’t you like gems?”

“… It’s a stupid reason,” she mutters.

“I’d still like to hear it. And I bet it isn’t stupid.”

She doesn’t respond to his support. But she never really does.

“You know… my stuffed animals?”

“Yeah!” Shinbashi knows them by name. The pink rabbit is Rose, and the mint rabbit is Minty, and the white cat is Snowy. And the inexplicable black rabbit is named Cherry.

“I like them because they’re cute. But they’re dead.”

Wait, what? Shinbashi is forcefully reminded of the terrifying, though impressive, ways a child can perceive the laws of the universe.

“… Well, they’re not exactly dead,” he tries, but she shakes her head.

“They’re dead. But they’re cute anyways.” She tries to wipe her sweaty palms on her skirt. “Sometimes when I go to bed, I have to turn them around. So they’re not watching me.”

Okay. Definitely one of the creepier things she’s said. But Shinbashi gets it.

“And how does this relate to the tourmaline out on the front porch?” he tries to reel it in.

“It’s dead, too.”

Ah. Shinbashi sees. He hides the sigh.

“I see,” he begins with. “… Yeah, I understand. He doesn’t really talk-” He sighs with gusto. “ It doesn’t really talk like humans, does it?”

She eyes him. “Why do you keep calling it ‘he’?”

A difficult question. Shinbashi wonders if he has an answer for her.

“Well,” he attempts. “You named your bunnies Rose and Minty and Cherry. Because, even though they’re not alive like you, you find them cute. Even if they’re a little unnerving sometimes. I guess… the tourmaline is like that for me.”

“… You think it’s cute?”

Shinbashi struggles with himself for a moment. “I think… he’s kinda pretty. Don’t you?”

“No.”

Okay. “Well. I do,” he frowns a little. She frowns right back. “But even if he’s not-” he is, “-I see enough ‘human’ in him to get it mixed up sometimes. You know, when I first started helping you with your studies, I didn’t even know he was a stone.”

“… Really?” She seems awfully judgmental about this.

“Honest! I kinda got in trouble with your mom over it.”

This seems to make her brighten up a little. “Mom yelled at you?”

“She sure did.” She considers this. And Shinbashi brushes on, “Maybe you should just give him a chance. If he still makes you nervous after today, we don’t have to do another picnic on the front porch again.”

She frowns, but she does say, “Fine.”

Shinbashi sneaks her a bowl of pretzels from the kitchen for her effort.

And, for her part, she doesn’t do much more than nervously glance at the tourmaline when they step out the front door. She darts over to the table with her bowl of pretzels, balanced on her workbooks and textbooks. And Shinbashi carries the rest of their stuff over. He makes sure to not glance over towards the tourmaline.

First, Shinbashi simply lets Lily eat her snack. As she does, he flips through the textbook to see what she’ll be working on after this upcoming test. When she’s ready for more of her studies, they move onto literature. Side by side, they read the assigned chapters for tomorrow. Then, they discuss some of what happens.

She has a knack for metaphors, Shinbashi is pleased to say. He’s happy that she’s enjoying this book, unlike the last one, which she despised more than even brussel sprouts.

There’s only thirty minutes left to Shinbashi’s time with her. They should be doing a little more work on her ‘professionalism building.’ But Shinbashi figures that her getting used to other and more gemstones is just as important as studying the basics of the stock market.

She chooses to spend this hour drawing with chalk on the sidewalk. Shinbashi sits on the porch stoop and watches her. Watches a few of the birds flying between the trellis stalks.

He isn’t paying attention to the tourmaline.

And, when he begins to hum quietly, it isn’t for the tourmaline. At the end of the hour, Shinbashi shoos Lily back inside with her things. She waves to him a warm goodbye and, to Shinbashi’s delight, nervously waves at the tourmaline, too, before sprinting off and out of sight. Shinbashi closes the front door and huffs a small laugh. He really likes this kid.

Turning on his heel to leave, he accidentally looks straight at the tourmaline. But the tourmaline isn’t looking at him. Its golden eyes are a little wide, staring at the door where Lily had offered him that small wave.

“You should say hi to her next time,” Shinbashi tells him.

Now, the tourmaline’s eyes are on him. Looking equally surprised that Shinbashi is addressing him directly. Taking this moment to just stay and talk.

Finally, it says, “I would not know what to say.”

“Just say ‘hello.’ It’s not too hard. Besides, it’s good that she’s getting braver about socializing.”

It doesn’t reply. Just looks at Shinbashi. Is it thinking? Shinbashi quells the flutter in his chest.

“I’ll be on my way.”

“… Have a safe journey home.”

Shinbashi hesitates on the step. “You have a good night.” And, for not the first time, he sorely wishes he had a name to attach to the end of that.

A name. That would be going too far. If Shinbashi were to ever call it by a name… Isn’t it too cruel to offer something so personal to someone, knowing they’ll never hear it from any lips but a single person’s? When Lily outgrows her need for Shinbashi as a tutor, the black tourmaline will remain here. It will never see Shinbashi again.

If Shinbashi were to offer it a name, it would never hear it again.

Living stones are immortal, Shinbashi knows this. For… perhaps hundreds of years of existing outside the sphere of life, to know it has a name but to never hear it… Shinbashi doesn’t think he would survive an existence like that. But perhaps a tourmaline would. Perhaps eternity feels less long when it’s in one’s nature.

Lily likes going out onto the front porch for her studies now. Especially after the tourmaline quietly mumbled a ‘hello’ to her. Beaming, she had turned to Shinbashi.

“I see why you think he’s cute!”

Shinbashi’s face had been on fire that day.

Slowly, they graduated from porch to garden. Lily’s attention, almost remarkable once she gets what she secretly wants, is faithful to her books when Shinbashi asks her to be. And she seems to have so much fun imagining stories in her head when she plays with the flowers during breaks.

Shinbashi plays with the flowers, too. He weaves flower crowns for her to wear : an old trick from the playgrounds during his own schooling. One day, he nervously weaves one for the tourmaline : crowns it with the small forget-me-nots. Its gold eyes watch Shinbashi’s face so closely when Shinbashi steps close to place it on his head.

“… It is nicely made,” is all it says, but Shinbashi feels it might’ve told Shinbashi he’s the prettiest man in the world, for how he blushes.

It’s embarrassing that Lily sees the whole exchange.

‘Ew,’ is what she says, giggling. Shinbashi tries to ignore how bad that hurts. But, once they’re back in her bedroom, she asks him all about his crush, and Shinbashi realizes with almost tear-inducing relief that she didn’t mean that kind of ‘ew.’ He laughs off the idea of a ‘crush,’ explaining that sometimes adults are just friends, but she doesn’t buy it.

It makes Shinbashi a little nervous, in all honesty. The last thing he needs is for her to blurt out something about Shinbashi liking the stone guard during a fight with her parents while Shinbashi’s not there to explain things. But, it doesn’t seem that she does. There are no weird looks – well, any more than Shinbashi normally gets – and Lily only seems to tease Shinbashi about this ‘crush’ at the end of their lesson when he walks her back to her room.

She’s also the one to ask if the tourmaline has a name.

Rose is Rose, and Minty is Minty ; Snowy is Snowy, and Cherry is Cherry. So, what’s the tourmaline’s name? Shinbashi hesitates when he tells her that it doesn’t have one. And she frowns. Tells him that Rose wasn’t Rose until she named Rose, Rose. Then demands that Shinbashi needs to give the tourmaline a name.

‘You can’t love someone without a name,’ is how she phrases it.

Shinbashi thinks he may die of embarrassment, getting relationship advice from a twelve-year-old. Even so, he does think about it. It’s embarrassing, but he stays up at night thinking about it. A name. For a black tourmaline. For his heart-throb.

It’s terrifying.

He tries to do a little research on black tourmalines, hoping that will give him an idea. He knows that the colloquial name for it is schorl, and he knows that it’s easily the most common type of tourmaline. He also knows that black gemstones don’t receive nearly the love that the more reflective varieties do.

Shinbashi wonders what the black tourmaline’s stone looks like. He wonders where it’s kept. Is there a vault, somewhere in the estate’s mansion, where all of the stone staff have their cores kept?

He knows that the tourmaline has been cut, for it to be so unresponsive and obedient. For it to be able to stand still for twenty four hours of every day. But he wonders what that cut must look like. Is it an emerald cut? Is it tear-dropped? Is it a cushion or a royal? Is it polished so that it gleams like the wink of a moonless night? Or has it been left to grow dull and dusty?

Shinbashi wishes he knew the tourmaline’s story. So that he could give it a fitting name. But he comes up blank.

On a Sunday in July, Shinbashi gives the tourmaline its name. The Lord and Lady of the house are away on a business trip for the week, and he’s expected to visit once a day to check in on Lily, her selenite, and the lady-in-waiting left in charge of the house.

It gives Shinbashi a wonderful breath of fresh air, letting Lily be as loud as she likes while she plays. They still do their work at the front porch’s garden table, but Shinbashi lets her slack a little. The lady-in-waiting is busy, anyways. On that particular Sunday, Shinbashi knows she’s out on town to sign off at the post office for a parcel.

They’re alone.

So, Lily plays in the garden sprinkler, seeing how hot the day is.

And Shinbashi talks to the tourmaline quietly in their own corner of the universe. It’s amazing, really, how much personality can be coaxed from a cut gemstone if the time is given. Shinbashi once thought that all cut gems were never to gain a consciousness of their own. But meeting this tourmaline and seeing the way he turns his head to watch Shinbashi talk now – the way he offers his own small comments, though they may not be so substantial – is making Shinbashi rethink all of what he knows about living stones.

And on this Sunday, Shinbashi is giggling over a story about his first ballroom dance with a boy. He plays with the red ribbon on the tourmaline’s lapel as he does so, smoothing down the satin before tying and retying it into different shapes.

“Everyone was staring,” he laughs. “I thought we were going to get the spanking of a lifetime. But, y’know, my parents weren’t in the room yet. Kousuke just cracked a joke and started to twirl me, and I stepped on, like, all of his toes. He eventually stopped dancing with me because I was so bad at it.” Again, he laughs. “Apparently everyone watching assumed it was a joke because of how comically unskilled I looked. And I didn’t get in trouble.”

He presses the ribbon back into its usual flower shape. With an extra loop for flair.

“Of course,” he adds, his smile slipping a little, “they found out I was gay soon thereafter. I wasn’t exactly very good at hiding it.”

He still isn’t. Not when he can’t take his hands off this stone.

“… Were they upset?”

A rare question from his heart-throb. Shinbashi sighs.

“Yeah, they were,” he answers honestly. “I started working as a tutor because, honestly, they didn’t want to support me any longer. So, I needed a job.” He shrugs. “All I’m really good at is books and kids, though. Hard for me to get a job doing anything else.”

“You are skilled at crafting flower crowns.”

Shinbashi laughs. Ugh, this man- this stone is after his heart.

“Unfortunately, that’s not a job I could get paid for.”

“It would be nice if it was.”

Shinbashi bites his lip, looking up at the tourmaline’s soft expression. “It would,” he agrees. His hands are still resting on its chest.

In this quiet moment, Shinbashi wishes it knew how to smile.

“You know,” he continues along to distract himself from the thought, “I’ve been wanting to give you a name.”

“… A name?”

“Mhm! I just feel so silly talking to you all the time, saying hello and bye, and not having a name to call you. But, uh, I’ve been having a lot of trouble figuring out what would fit you.” Silence from the tourmaline. Shinbashi licks his lips, then feels his heart stutter painfully when he sees the tourmaline’s eyes trace the movement like it’s a sweet dessert. “Do you, um. Have a preference?”

“… I do not know many names.”

“That’s okay,” Shinbashi reassures. “Is there anything you like? That I could base it off of?”

The tourmaline frowns slightly. “… I do not have likes or dislikes.”

“Don’t be silly!” Shinbashi hits its chest lightly. “You like me, don’tcha?”

A very long silence.

Then, quietly, like it’s afraid to answer, it admits, “I do.”

“Well, what else do you like, then?”

“… You have a nice smile.”

Oh, Shinbashi’s heart gives out right then and there. How he doesn’t simply collapse, he doesn’t know.

“B- Besides me,” he stammers. “Something… I dunno. Something that could have a name.”

“… You sound nice when you read stories aloud to the Young Mistress.”

That’s a start. Shinbashi hums and continues to play with the tourmaline’s lapels as he thinks. What have some of the more recent stories been, that he and Lily read together and discussed? There was the adventure book about magical horses. And the one short story about a girl who befriends the ghosts in her mansion. Lily had liked that one quite a bit. Said it reminded her of trying to be friendly with the tourmaline and her selenite and some of the other stone staff in her home.

Then, it clicks with Shinbashi. He had brought over some of his favorite detective novels for Lily to read during her break time, a few weeks ago. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson ; Professor James Moriarty and Irene Adler and Colonel Sebastian Moran. And, then, Shinbashi’s mind is all made up.

“How about Moran?” he suggests, looking up into the tourmaline’s golden eyes for approval.

“… Moran?”

“Mhm,” Shinbashi hums. “I think it fits you. The Moran from my childhood stories was a dangerous man, very skilled with a rifle, and a military man, to boot. But you remind me of… a better version of that.”

“… I do not understand.”

“Well,” Shinbashi explains, “tourmalines’ magic is strictly offensive, is it not? You’re built to hurt others, in a sense. But you’ve never hurt me or Lily. You’re a sweetheart. And… well.” It’s embarrassing to admit, but, “You shot my heart with an arrow the moment I first saw you, y’know.”

“… I do not remember that.”

Shinbashi chuckles a little, hearing that. “Never mind. Do you like it, though? Moran?”

A long hesitation. Then, impossibly sweetly, the tourmaline tells Shinbashi, “If you call me that, I will like it because it is what you call me.”

And Shinbashi kisses him. He can’t help it. His heart is thumping too wildly in his chest, and he feel faint. He reaches up with trembling hands to cut Moran’s face between them, and he pulls him down to Shinbashi’s height to kiss. It’s desperate – and Shinbashi feels like he might die at any second from this intense feeling seeping through his veins – and it’s somehow wonderful.

Even if Moran doesn’t yet know how to kiss back. Even if he’s not holding onto Shinbashi yet because Shinbashi didn’t tell him to. It’s perfect anyways. Shinbashi wishes they could do it whenever they like.

Eventually, though, he pulls away.

“I love you,” he whispers in the small space separating them. “I fell in love with you as soon as we met.”

“… I do not love.”

“Yes, you do,” Shinbashi promises. He takes Moran’s hand and raises it to his chest. “I know you do, baby. You look at me and no one else. You speak with me and no one else. You think my smile is pretty and that I make nice flower crowns. You feel lonely when I’m not here to be with you.”

“Is that what love is?” Moran questions quietly, like this is very confusing for him.

“It can be.” Shinbashi’s grip tightens on Moran’s hand. “I’d like it to be.”

Softly, Moran’s eyes grow warmer. He almost smiles.

“I love you,” he says in that monotone low voice of his that Shinbashi loves so dearly.

Shinbashi feels himself begin to cry. He hides his face in Moran’s chest, hugging him close. Gently – slowly – Moran’s arms rise to wrap around Shinbashi’s waist and hold him in return.

“This is nice,” he says. “May we do this more often?”

Shinbashi sniffles. “As much as we can.”

As much as they can hide.

The week alone, with Lily’s parents away for business, is glorious, but it is short-lived. Almost just as Shinbashi’s getting into the swing of the routine – taking Lily out to play while talking to Moran to both their hearts’ content – they return to the capital by train. Lily is equally upset to see them return, Shinbashi knows, and so he tries to go easy on her with her studies the last day. They barely spend even half an hour with her books.

And, to his surprise, rather than run off to pretend to find gnomes hiding amongst the garden, she sticks close to Shinbashi and Moran and explains the plot of her favorite dark magic adventure chapter book. All while Moran listens to her – attentively – and occasionally asks the small question. Just like he does with Shinbashi’s stories.

Shinbashi thinks his heart may just give out.

Which is why, when he brings Lily back to her room for the final day before her parents return, Shinbashi feels horrible for having to have ‘the talk’ with her, as he’s dubbed it in his mind.

“Lily,” he says carefully as she tugs off her sandals. “You understand that when your parents come home, you cannot talk freely with Moran?”

This makes her pause. “Why not?” she asks. “He’s nice.”

“He is very nice,” Shinbashi agrees. “But do you remember how little you liked stones just half a year ago?” She nods. “Your parents still feel the same as they ever have. They won’t be happy if they learn you’re friends with one.”

“But maybe we can change their minds.”

“I already tried, remember? Your mother was very unhappy with me.”

Her optimism dampens, remembering indeed that Shinbashi had gotten in trouble for simply talking with the stone.

“I wish they weren’t coming back,” she mumbles.

Oh, Shinbashi totally might get fired for this.

“Me too.”

“… Can you tell Mr. Moran that I’m sorry if I don’t say hi to him next time?”

Shinbashi nods. “Yeah,” he manages to say through the tightness in his throat. “I can. I’m sure he won’t take it personally.”

She attempts a smile as he leaves. Shinbashi attempts the same.

On the porch step, he explains to Moran the return of the Shoukomiyas and what that’ll mean for Shinbashi and Lily’s behavior. Shinbashi doesn’t like to assume, but he’s certain the sudden dampness to his golden eyes is grief.

Shinbashi spends one last embrace with him, breathing in deeply the fresh scent of Moran’s pristinely ironed black uniform. Moran holds him in kind with a loose grip around Shinbashi’s waist.

“I wish I could stay here forever,” Shinbashi breathes. He kisses Moran’s shoulder. “Your arms feel nice.”

Silence. Shinbashi figures he won’t get a response this time.

But, bravely, he hears a quiet, “I do not know what this feels like. Then, “It is also nice, however.”

Right. Living stones can’t feel any touch or warmth or softness that their core is not pressed against. Shinbashi closes his eyes and kisses Moran sweetly on the lips. His cold lips, unable to grow warm with embarrassment or body heat.

“It feels like I’m safe,” Shinbashi hums as he holds the man’s jaw. “It feels like I’m the happiest I could ever be.”

For a short breath of a moment, Moran’s arms tighten around Shinbashi’s waist.

But, then, mechanically he responds, “I am glad.”

Shinbashi makes up his mind to steal Moran’s black tourmaline core. He wants to show this man the joyous feelings of the world. To rub the stone’s surely glittering surface against the gentle uniqueness of flower petals and against the warmth of sunlight and the warmth of Shinbashi’s own hands. Shinbashi wants to show Moran what it could feel like to run his fingers through Shinbashi’s hair.

And, in a private moment, what Shinbashi’s lips could feel like.

It’s foolish timing : to desire this right as Lord and Lady Shoukomiya are returning to their estate. Shinbashi will already be under great scrutiny to determine how successfully he managed the weeks’ length without them. They will want to see Lily’s progress and what the lady-in-waiting has to say about his performance.

Even so, Shinbashi can’t bear to wait to teach Moran the wondrous things about being alive.

There just happens to be a tiny problem in the way. Shinbashi doesn’t actually know where the vault of cut gemstones are in the Shoukomiya Estate. He’s never caught wind of so much of a passing mention. And, with how large the mansion is, he simply hasn’t been in enough halls to have a sense of which rooms are suspiciously off-limits.

To Shinbashi’s reluctance, he recognizes that he will have to drag her into this foolhardy quest of his.

She seems eager to help, though. The moment Shinbashi asks the selenite to leave the room and whispers quietly to Lily his request, her eyes shine. She wants to watch ‘Mr. Moran’ learn what her favorite stuffed animals feel like, apparently. And, no matter how many times Shinbashi stresses to her how much trouble she’ll be in if she’s caught – that she doesn’t need to do this for him – she insists she wants to.

They scheme to have her steal the black tourmaline on Monday evening when her mother goes out to town for dinner with her friends and her father retires early in anticipation for his early-morning Tuesday meetings. Shinbashi will be nowhere near the estate, which automatically lowers the suspicions of her parents and – in extension – the few human staff. And, even if she is caught, it looks more like her curiously pursuing pretty gems than it does a direct request from Shinbashi.

Needless to say, Shinbashi is terrified as he approaches the Shoukomiya Estate mansion’s front porch on Thursday. His palms are all but dripping with sweat, and it’s not all from the heat of late July. Moran is silent as Shinbashi passes him by with naught but a soft ‘morning.’

The staff greet him pleasantly. When Shinbashi passes Lord Shoukomiya in a hallway, he offers a friendly nod of greeting. Lily must have succeeded.

And, sure enough, once Shinbashi’s arrived and her selenite is sent to fetch them juice and cookies, Lily starts beaming like she’s turned into the very sun itself.

“I got it,” she whispers comically-excitedly. “I’ve been keeping it under my pillow. It’s so cool, it looks like a demon’s stone!”

Ah, her imagination. Always a delight, truly.

Shinbashi finds himself smiling along. “I can’t thank you enough, Lily.” And privately, he can’t praise her enough.

She’s no longer the unhappy little girl scared of her own stone. Look at her. She’s stealing property worth thousands. If it weren’t so incredibly dangerous for them both, Shinbashi would praise her a little more. But, alas, he doesn’t want to encourage her into thinking that these sorts of schemes are worth pursuing without sincere cause or reason.

She fetches the black tourmaline from underneath her pillow as Shinbashi unpacks his books. He’s pleased that she took his advice of holding it in a handkerchief, as a pale lacy thing is clutched in her hand as she comes over.

“It’s so pretty,” she tells him and proudly unfolds the petals of the lace.

Shinbashi’s breath catches. It is gorgeous. And yet so tiny. It’s barely the length of his thumb, and it’s cut into a pristine emerald shape. When he nudges it onto its side, he sees a beautifully complex pattern cut into the back : arching along the whole length of the stone. And, true to Lily’s word, it is dark as a moonless night. The black is so dark that Shinbashi almost doesn’t believe it’s a gemstone.

But the well-polished glimmer of its face… it must be.

Shinbashi awes over this silently. Lily urges him to pick it up with his bare palm, saying she once did that accidentally in the morning under her pillow. She tells him that there’s a heartbeat inside the stone.

With great trepidation, he nudges the small thing into his palm. His lips part. There is the strong beat of a heart emanating from its sleek surface. He feels it pick it a little in tempo, too, once it’s fallen properly into his palm. Shinbashi’s own heart flutters. Can Moran feel this? All the way out on the porch.

Does he know this is Shinbashi’s touch? His lover’s?

Shinbashi simply must know. They hide it from the selenite, when it returns with their cookies and juice. They perform all of their studies together with steadfast dedication. In fact, they don’t so much as glance at the lace on the table the entire time.

But, when their session is over, Shinbashi takes the black tourmaline core with him.

Moran’s eyes all but snap to him when Shinbashi steps out and onto the porch. And, once the front door has shut, Shinbashi whispers to him in passing, “Meet me at the gate in a bit.”

Without waiting for Moran’s confirmation, Shinbashi marches right through the trellised walkway and to the iron gate. He hides himself behind a particularly enormous bougainvillea and clenches tight on his briefcase. The black tourmaline is safe inside of it.

It takes a long time for Moran to meet with him. Shinbashi almost worries that he won’t leave his post even at Shinbashi’s request.

But, just as Shinbashi’s debating leaving, there’s a rustle at the bougainvillea. That achingly handsome black uniform steps forwards, and Shinbashi all but jumps into Moran’s arms. He hangs there off of his heart-throb for a moment, enjoying this embrace after so many days without seeing him.

“You have my heart,” Moran says into Shinbashi’s ear : voice all low and sexy.

“And you have mine,” Shinbashi promises.

To his dismay, Moran lets go of his waist. “No,” Moran says. “You have my heart in your briefcase.”

What? Oh. Shinbashi scoops his briefcase back up and unclasps the small brass thing at the front, digging around for the lace handkerchief. He finds it and draws it into the summer air. Moran’s eyes cling to it.

“I didn’t know you called your cores ‘hearts,’” Shinbashi admits, a little embarrassed. “It makes sense, though.”

Gently, he unwraps the lace from the stone.

It’s small, sleek and black body becomes naked to the air. In a rare display of emotion, Moran’s lips wobble. His large and strong hands achingly cautiously pluck his stone from Shinbashi’s open palm. He cradles it in his own.

“I felt them cut at it for a long time,” Moran says into the quietude between them. He sounds… Shinbashi’s own lip wobbles. He wants to hug him and protect him from all of the pain in his voice. “I did not realize… it is so small now.”

Shinbashi swallows thickly. “It’s okay,” he promises. “No one will ever cut at it again. We have it now.”

Rapidly, he’s realizing, this is becoming more than just a desire to teach Moran the tickle of grass on bare feet. Shinbashi wants to hide this stone from the whole world. No one will ever be able to hurt Moran again.

With great effort, Moran raises his eyes back to meet Shinbashi’s.

“Teach me,” he requests simply, holding his heart back out for Shinbashi to take.

Shinbashi’s heart swells. And here he thought Moran would want to trail his core against whatever tickled his fancy in the moment. Not… return it to Shinbashi with such an open and trusting expression.

Shinbashi kisses him as he accepts Moran’s heart once more.

He teaches Moran the softness of the bougainvillea blossoms first. Then the scratch of their leaves. He tickles the core along the grass and listens to Moran’s surprised little grunt, feeling something so unique for the first time. Gently, Shinbashi lets Moran feel the heat of iron under hot, summer sunlight. Then, the coolness of soil in the shade.

The final thing Shinbashi teaches him is the press of his own lips. They tremble against the gemstone as they suck a soft, gentle kiss to the smooth surface. Moran watches him hungrily. Eventually, Shinbashi finds himself kissing Moran once again, thumbing gently at Moran’s heart in his hand.

Moran’s strong hands hold him close. Shinbashi thinks he could die happy.

But time is short. Shinbashi promises to bring Moran’s heart wherever he goes – to never leave him behind – and Moran almost looks happy to hear it. They split ways at the gate to the estate : Moran back to his post at the front porch and Shinbashi off down the slope towards the tram station and towards home.

Once he arrives there, Shinbashi marks it on his calendar to find a casting or wiring for the black tourmaline so to wear it around his neck : to make sure that no one is ever able to steal it from him. He can’t leave something so important just in his pocket, after all. It ends up being a sweet, golden thing that makes the black tourmaline look all the more impossibly sleek for its blackness.

The jeweler doesn’t ask too many questions, thankfully, and doesn’t seem to realize it’s a living stone core at all, since he works on it with padded tweezers and gloves. Shinbashi gets his necklace, and the black tourmaline thumps heartily against Shinbashi’s skin as he wears it underneath his button-ups. He can’t risk returning to the estate before Sunday, which cracks Shinbashi’s heart in two, but he holds it to his chest when he falls asleep.

For the rest of the weekend, Shinbashi tries to distract himself from his eagerness to return to the Shoukomiya Estate and see Moran again. Even one of his other students remarks on him being distracted, which is embarrassing even if it’s true.

So, when Sunday comes around, Shinbashi dresses himself in his smartest suit. Its pressed lines flatter Shinbashi’s form, he thinks : accentuating the breadth of his shoulders and his long legs. He ever combs his hair back away from his face, for once, smoothing it back to be a little more masculine. And the black tourmaline, though he can’t show it off without risking discovery, glitters in the light against the dip of his muscles before Shinbashi finishes up the buttons and ties the tie.

He sets out in cheerful spirits from his doorstep.

When he arrives on the Shoukomiya Estate mansion’s doorstep, though, that jubilance plummets. Like a cold, heavy stone in his stomach, Shinbashi sees Lord Shoukomiya frowning – arms crossed – on the doormat. He’s been waiting for Shinbashi, even though Shinbashi is a perfect four minutes early. The small nook of the porch’s corner is empty.

Moran’s absence carves all the worse the trepidation in Shinbashi’s heart. For a moment, he wonders if he should turn tail and run, lest his lover’s heart, dangling around his neck, be taken.

In a foolish fit of bravery, he steps forwards and up onto the porch. He almost convinces himself that he might be able to persuade the Shoukomiyas to grant them mercy.

Without a word shared, Lord Shoukomiya leads Shinbashi to the entertainment parlor. Lady Shoukomiya waits there, pacing. And Lily sits in the one chair, looking utterly miserable. Her hair has all fallen out of its fancy up-do, and her cheeks are stained with tears.

Shinbashi’s gut churns.

“What’s happened?” he asks, seeing as Lord Shoukomiya has joined his wife at the head of the room.

“You tell me,” Lord Shoukomiya says evenly, but the voice barely contains cold fury. “We’re away for a week, and we come back to hear outlandish stories from our head of staff about you letting Lily fool around outdoors rather than focus on what’s in front of her.”

Shinbashi… doesn’t understand where this is going anymore. “Lily has been doing exceptionally well in her studies. She deserves the chance to have fun like other kids for a few hours here and there.”

“And she does,” Lady Shoukomiya snaps. “But we are not paying you to babysit her. We are paying you to give her an education.”

Shinbashi royally doubts that Lily is allowed the chance to have fun while he’s not around. Not judging by the wondrous, awe-filled way she had delightedly learned how to color with chalk. Nor by the way she made Shinbashi promise to never say her stuffed animals’ names to anyone but her because they’re secret.

Even so, he can’t much argue Lady Shoukomiya’s point.  He bows his head.

“You’re right,” he admits quietly. “You have my apologies for losing sight of our goal.”

“Lily’s not like other kids, anyways,” her father snorts. “She’s going to become heiress to our appraisal company, after all. Our competition will not wait for her to grow up. She needs to learn now how to handle the business so that she has an expert touch by the time she’s old enough to take over.”

Lily glares mutinously at his back.

“And yet here she is daring to ask questions about why lapidary is a practice in the first place.”

Ah. Shinbashi takes in a deep breath and finds himself sighing. Yes, he sees. Such is the nature of letting someone so genuinely sweet at heart learn the truth behind something as cruel as gem-cutting.

“I did tell her the truth of lapidary when she asked.”

He’s not going to hide it. He will hide, though, that the reason the question was ever asked was because, last Thursday, she wanted to know why Shinbashi had looked so pained – initially – upon seeing how small the black tourmaline had been cut.

“Unacceptable,” Lady Shoukomiya sniffs. “She’s too young to learn things like that. Children like her are too young to fully tell the difference between what could happen to them and what happens to others.”

At this, Lily glares at her. “I’m not a kid!” she snaps, and the strength of her declaration is undermined by the break and crack of her voice, shooting up into octaves that no adult’s could ever go. Both her parents scowl at her until her eyes well up with tears once more, and she glares down again at her shoes.

“She is quite mature for her age,” Shinbashi explains carefully. “I do not mean to push my judgments or beliefs onto your family, but you are asking me to prepare her for lapidary business without her even knowing the details of lapidary itself.”

“That’s not how we see it,” Lord Shoukomiya says definitively.

Shinbashi dips his head. “I’m sorry for not realizing that until now.”

None of this answers where Moran is. Shinbashi needs to know. Even if they fire him, he needs to know where Moran is. But he can’t very well just ask, either. He stands there, feeling the throb of the black tourmaline on his chest – hidden beneath the buttons of his shirt – and waits for the verdict.

“That’s not all,” Lord Shoukomiya finally says. “Our head of house informed us that, while you let Lily slack, you were preoccupied with the stone at our front door.”

Moran.

Shinbashi needs a moment to find the strength to respond, “I was going to pass the time somehow. It was a good listener. There was nothing more to it than that.”

Lady Shoukomiya’s icy little looks dip further into disgust. “That’s not what we heard.”

“… What did you hear?”

“We heard enough,” is all that Lord Shoukomiya says, but it about sums it up. “We’ll make this short for both our sakes. You’re fired. In no uncertain terms. You will receive the last of your pay in the mail for last week, so to keep this civil between us, but you are never to contact Lily or any of us ever again. And I will be making personal recommendations to your other clients.”

Shinbashi inhales sharply. “If you no longer want me around your daughter, I understand. But my other clients can vouch that I would never do anything to threaten my job security or the kids I work with. I love what I do. I’ve never had a single smudge on my record.”

“Which is why we’re so disappointed.” Lord Shoukomiya sighs. “Look, one man to another. I don’t wanna do this to you. I’m sure you’re a perfectly fine man. But I won’t have my daughter start thinking this kind of way. And I stand behind whatever my wife wants.”

Lady Shoukomiya gloats a little, hearing this. Shinbashi’s lips tighten against his teeth.

“I’m asking you to take the deal and leave,” Lord Shoukomiya continues. His tone is so drastically different from even just thirty seconds ago that Shinbashi isn’t sure what’s real and what’s not. Did he imagine all of that, just a few minutes ago? “You don’t wanna make me angry.” Oh, so he didn’t.

Shinbashi nods stiffly. “I understand.” He eyes the miserable figure of Lily on the couch. “Lily,” he says quietly, but she doesn’t look up. “I’m sorry we couldn’t finish our read-through of those dragon books together. Finish them on your own for me? You can keep the copies, of course.”

Mutely, she nods.

And, then, there’s nothing else that Shinbashi can do. He turns on his heel. And he begins to leave.

But, at the door, his breath catches.

Moran stands there, looking down at him.

“What?” Lady Shoukomiya says, rising to her feet. “What’s it doing? Steven, what’s it doing?”

“I don’t know,” Lord Shoukomiya answers tersely.

Shinbashi knows. To his sinking heart, he watches powerless as Moran unclasps the necklace from around Shinbashi’s neck, pulling it from the safety of his dress shirt, and fingering at the stone in awe.

“Will you teach me more textures today?” Moran asks Shinbashi innocently. Completely oblivious to the tone of the room.

“What’s that?! You stole its stone?!”

“Lily, come here now! Guards!”

Shit. Shinbashi shoves Moran out the door. “Come on,” he demands, latching onto his hand. He begins to run for the door. “We’re leaving.”

From behind, he hears the unearthly screech of Lady Shoukomiya for her daughter.

Shinbashi doesn’t care. Moran, thank whatever God is out there, if any, runs alongside him. He asks Shinbashi what he’s doing, protesting that the tutoring session isn’t yet over, and Shinbashi grits his teeth as he runs past the bougainvillea with him.

When Shinbashi unlatches the property gate and tries to pull Moran out, though, Moran won’t budge from the very property line.

“Please, sweetheart, you have to come with me,” Shinbashi begs. “Before the other guards reach us, please.”

“I cannot leave the property.”

“Yes, you can,” Shinbashi begs. “You have your stone. No one’s controlling you anymore. Please, come away with me. They’ll have you shattered if they catch you.”

Silence. Shinbashi feels like he may faint with terror. Any second now, his entire world will fall to pieces.

“Please!” he begs again, tugging as hard as he can on Moran’s arm, though the man doesn’t budge even an inch. “For me, please! Don’t you love me? Don’t you want to live?” He realizes he’s crying. “Moran, please.”

“I was told I do not have sick days. I can see you again on Thursday.”

“You can’t!” Shinbashi screams. “I’m not coming back on Thursday! You’re never going to see me again if you stay here. They’re going to shatter you. Even if they don’t, they’re going to cut you so small you won’t be able to remember me. And even if you do, you will never see me again. I don’t want that for you.”

In Moran’s eyes, there is a flicker of conflict.

“Mr. Moran?”

Shinbashi jumps a mile, hearing Lily’s voice. They turn around to find her standing there in her white dress : with her messy hair and ruddy face and dirty shoes.

She shifts her weight. “I ordered my selenite to buy us time,” she mumbles. “She’s been getting better at using her sand to make glass shields.” When Shinbashi still stares at her in disbelief, she frowns. “You told me to talk nicer to gems!”

“I… did,” Shinbashi manages. Later. They can talk about this later. “Thank you, Lily. I wish I could repay you for letting us escape.”

She scowls. “I’m coming with you, duh!”

“Oh, Lily,” Shinbashi crouches down, even though he knows she hates that. “You have to stay here.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“I don’t want you to, either. But this is a huge decision. Your parents will stop at nothing to get you back, you know this, and I can’t promise you’ll be safe if we’re around gems when the police come for you.”

She shudders. “I don’t like the police. But I don’t wanna stay, either. I thought you would’ve learned that by now. They treat me horribly once no one’s around to see it. And then they lie if I try to get help, saying I’m making it up! I’m not a liar, though.” She hesitates. “Okay, I lie a lot, but I’m not lying now.”

Shinbashi believes her. Painfully so.

He sighs. “Lily…” What can he say to her? “You will never be allowed to come back here, you know. You’d have to leave Rose and Minty and Snowy and Cherry and everyone else behind.”

At this, her expression dampens. “… They’d understand…”

“And your friends?”

“I don’t have friends,” she mumbles to her shoes. “My classmates think I’m weird for still believing in fairies.”

Shinbashi’s heart aches. He looks back to Moran, who is frowning down at his heart in his hand. First thing’s first.

“Moran,” he says softly. He closes Moran’s hand around the small, black stone. “Will you come with me? Not as a sick day. Will you come and start a life with me?” At Moran’s silence, Shinbashi presses on weakly, “Because I love you. I would want that for us. And I promise I’ll never let anyone touch your stone ever again.”

“I would like you to hold my heart again,” Moran almost frowns.

“No one but myself,” Shinbashi swears. “Just please come with me.”

“Where are we going?” Lily asks. “Are we going to hide?” Suddenly, she looks scared. “Are we going to have to hide in someone’s basement for the rest of our lives like the fairy did in the Half Moon Chronicles? I read that being away from the sunlight for that long is bad for your skin. Are we going to have to use sunstone magic to live?”

“… Hopefully not. If we can catch a train, we won’t.”

“Train?”

“Train,” Shinbashi agrees. They’re running low on time. The selenite always looked frail, even if it’s been strengthening its magic.

“Moran?” he asks gently. “Will you come with me?”

Slow like molasses, Moran lifts his chin. His eyes stare into Shinbashi’s own for a tremblingly long amount of time. Then, quietly, he says, “I will do as makes you happy.” Then, even quieter, “Arata.”

Shinbashi almost breaks into tears on the spot. Moran’s never so much as breathed a hint of his name before now.

“Does it make you happy?” He needs to know.

“… Your eyes are pretty when you smile. I would like to continue to see it.”

Shinbashi feels another tear break free from his ducts. He sniffles a little, rubbing it with the sleeve of his suit.

“I’m glad,” he breathes. “Let’s go then. Lily?” He offers her his hand. She snags it with her own sweaty one. “… Moran?” Gently, Moran accepts Shinbashi’s other hand. “Come on,” Shinbashi leads them. “Let’s get out of here.”

He’s being foolish and brash and hot-headed. He’s being all of his worst traits at once. But Shinbashi also knows definitively that this is the right decision. The right thing to do.

They board the tram like a bundle of misfits. A disgraced tutor, an imaginative but traumatized twelve-year-old, and a cut gemstone. They get a few looks, too. Probably because Lily looks like she’s been crying all day – she has – and Moran looks so stone-faced. And Shinbashi also may or may not feel like he suffered a war lately, and it probably shows in his face.

But the tram departs off towards the lower districts without so much as a peep from up the street. The selenite must be holding its own.

Shinbashi’s chest aches a little for it. There’s no doubt it’ll be shattered once the other tourmaline guards manage to break through its endless supply of glass. Or once it tires from producing so much magic. He holds Lily close to his side and hopes that she hasn’t figured that out yet. He doesn’t want her to have to deal with the knowledge of sending her guard to its death. Especially not after she grew close enough with the selenite to start calling it ‘her.’

Lily doesn’t make much noise, though, during the tram ride. She just sits there quietly and occasionally wipes the sweat of her hands onto the lace of her dress. Shinbashi wonders if they can get her a medicine for all of the perspiration, once they get settled down. He thinks she’d be happy if they could.

They step off the tram once it’s at the Grand Central stop. Off the tram and onto the bustling streets of downtown’s commercial district. Lily all but glues herself to Shinbashi’s leg. She was always scared of strangers.

Shinbashi leads them down the street towards the arching bridge that, on one side of its underneath, leads to a classy restaurant and, on the other side, to Grand Central’s local ticket booth. They enter in through the gold-gilded revolving doors, much to Lily’s fascination, and step up to the ticket booth.

The tickets aren’t much of a problem. So long as one registered traveler is buying them, the companions don’t require identification cards. And, so, Shinbashi buys all three of their tickets on his identification.

Three tickets. Two adults, one child. For Merionville : out along the border. Two connecting stops, of course, and a cheap bonus continental fee.

The train leaves in half an hour.

None of them have any baggage – nothing to be checked – save for Shinbashi’s wallet and briefcase. He realizes how much he’s leaving behind with this move. All of the money he saved up – for years – trying to make do without the help of his parents. The small collection of ties he had grown rather attached to.

But it doesn’t matter. He has Moran, and he has Lily now, too, and the money in his wallet will get them far enough. Once they’re over the border, it’ll all be like new.

Or so Shinbashi hopes. In actuality, he has no idea what lies across the border. He’s read certain publications about the Crimson Butcher King – the alexandrite – who calmed down after the war and allowed his fellow gems to build their own facsimile of human society, having nothing else to base their new kingdom off of. But he’s also heard the legends of the Crimson Bastard and of the horrors that lie beyond the border : of animalistic stones without cages and a king with a thirst for human blood.

Surely it must be the former. Shinbashi’s studied history for too long to believe the latter. But, at the same time, there is a worm of fear inside of him. He doesn’t know how gemstones would react to humans living in their land. He worries for Lily, too, never really growing up to see a human lifespan outside of Shinbashi’s own.

He hopes it’ll be fine.

Five minutes left until boarding. Shinbashi’s knee bounces erratically.

Can’t they just hurry up and board? There’s only so long that one selenite can hold off a multitude of black tourmalines. And there’s only so long before the Lord and Lady Shoukomiya figure out where Shinbashi’s hopes lie.

Four minutes.

Three minutes. Shinbashi leaps a foot when someone knocks into his back with their bag.

Two minutes.

One.

Shinbashi sags in relief when the train whistle blows for boarding. He ushers Lily to her feet and, checking to see that Moran is following, all but shoves them onto the train. Safe. Until they find their compartment, and Shinbashi is once again restless. When is the train leaving again? What if the police call for them to hold for a search?

But, in the end, nothing happens. No one comes. The train rolls out of the station, and it leaves the entire city behind.

In Merionville, Shinbashi is the first to step off the train. Lily clings close to his hand. And Moran quietly follows after them

He has no idea what’s waiting for them once they reach the border. He doesn’t even know what it looks like. Will it be like the gossip among the upper classes of armed guards in a tense stare-down as they wait for the Crimson Butcher’s next call for war? Or will it be… something more familiar that will further upset Shinbashi’s conscience as a participant in the same human society that shaves gemstones of their personality?

Both to his disbelief and relief, the ‘border’ is clean and organized. It’s a small iron gate, with a few government desks on either side. The gems’ desks are cushioned up right against the gate itself. The kingdom-side desks are off along the far wall.

Shinbashi squeezes Moran’s hand in his and walks them up to the border desks for the gemstones.

The gemstone working there, his core out on a bracelet cuff for the world to see, smiles up at them pleasantly from where he’s writing a note to himself.

“Hey, welcome to the Land of Gems,” he rattles off effortlessly. “Do you have a visa pre-approved with us already, or shall we get one written up for you?”

Shinbashi hesitates. “… I, um. … Visa?”

The gemstone nods. “All three of you will need your own visa. We write them here for security’s sake, and we have our own filing office in a private facility. But you will get to keep a copy for work and rent-related purposes once you officially cross over the border.”

“I, um. I’m not a gem, actually,” Shinbashi is embarrassed to explain. “Only Moran is.”

The man blinks. “Oh, yes, I know. We living stones can sense other living stones, in a way.”

“… But you said the three of us will need visas?”

“Yes!” Shinbashi must look as confused as he feels, for the man continues, “We do allow humans into our lands, if that’s where your confusion lies.”

It is indeed. “Why?” Shinbashi finds himself asking. “Surely your people have a lot of trauma with our kind.”

“There is,” the man agrees. “But our council has explicitly drafted and published protection laws for human immigrants fleeing alongside their living stone partners. We’re aware of the stigmas and dangers of a human remaining in your kingdoms, if they’ve previously aided a living stone.”

Shinbashi doesn’t know how to respond.

“Really?”

“Really!”

Shinbashi… couldn’t have even dreamed of this as a possibility.

“I- In that case… could we? Apply for the visas?”

“Certainly,” the gemstone hums, pulling out a clipboard. “I’ll just need your name, to start?”

“Shinbashi Arata.”

“Occupation?”

“… Unemployed. Formerly a tutor.”

“Date of birth?”

“September 9th 993.”

The man scribbles out a bunch of information on the paper without asking questions.

“Did you have a means of identification on you?”

Shinbashi pulls out his card and hands it to the man, who lightly glances at it before handing it back.

“And would you be so kind as to fingerprint this sheet for me, as means of signing?”

A little curious as to this means of signature, Shinbashi presses his right thumb to the ink pad and then gently rolls his print onto the oily paper.

“And you?” the man asks, smiling down at Lily. “Can I ask your name?”

“Lily.”

“Lily… ?”

She frowns. “Do I have to keep my last name?”

Shinbashi bites his lip, wondering if it’s just as well to have her take his. But the man at the desk just kind of chuckles.

“Most of the refugee living stones that come in make their own names on the spot, too. If you want to make a new name for yourself, you can. But it’ll stick with you.”

Lily looks up to Shinbashi. “Should I keep it?”

“I think,” Shinbashi hums, “you could always take mine, if you don’t wanna keep ‘Shoukomiya.’”

Her eyes brighten. “Can I?!”

“So, Shinbashi Lily?” the man asks. To her enthusiastic nod, he smiles and writes that down. “Your age, dear?”

“Twelve and three-quarters!”

“Almost due for a birthday, then, huh? What’s the special date?”

“August 31!”

“And, let’s see. Would you mind stamping your papers for me?”

“Yep!”

And, peppily, she lets Shinbashi help her ink her print onto the form.

Both of their papers get stamped. Then, finally, the man turns to Moran.

“Your name?”

Moran doesn’t reply.

Shinbashi gently rubs his back. “Moran,” he supplies.

“No last name?”

“No, I don’t think-”

“Shinbashi.”

Both Shinbashi and the gemstone worker pause.

“You’d like to be listed under Shinbashi, as well?” the man asks.

Moran doesn’t even blink or nod. Simply says, “Shinbashi Moran.” Shinbashi’s hands feel hot. But, with great effort, Moran turns his head to meet Shinbashi’s gape and stare. The faintest whisper of a smile caresses his lips. “We are married now.”

Shinbashi feels a laugh of incredulity slip out. “I don’t think that’s how marriage works, sweetheart.”

Then, as if his heart isn’t already in shambles, Moran frowns. “What are the necessary requirements for marriage, then?”

Holy shit. Holy fuck. Is this a proposal? This is definitely a proposal.

“W- We can, um. We can talk about that later. Like. When we’re… somewhere private. Okay?”

“Can we not get married?”

“We can!” Shinbashi rushes to assure. “We can, just. This guy can’t help us with that. Someone else will.”

To Shinbashi’s utter mortification, the worker just seems amused by all of this.

“Shinbashi Moran,” he repeats carefully, writing that down. Shinbashi wants to die. “Your gem type?”

“Black tourmaline.”

“Do you have it on you?”

“Yeah,” Shinbashi gestures to Moran’s hand. “Babe, d’ya mind showing it?”

Moran extends his hand and unfurls his fingers to reveal the painfully small sliver of black tourmaline there. Beautifully cut. To such agonizing effect.

The worker nods quietly at this and marks it down on the form. This form, too, gets a stamp : a different kind than Shinbashi and Lily’s.

“Are you three staying together, then?” the worker asks. “We do request that all humans living in the Land of Gems remain with the living stone who vouched for their entrance, as a means of security. At least for the first few months before you can file for residency with the Immigrations Bureau.”

“Yeah, that won’t be a problem.”

“Okay, then!”

The worker snatches three leaves of paper from one of his filing bins and, carefully, with a piece of graphite, makes etchings of their papers. These are then glossed with a resin, dried with a press of an iron that’s been kept heated over a small stove, and the man easily jogs them together. He hands them out to Shinbashi, over the desk.

“Have a wonderful rest of your day! I hope you find our kingdom to your liking.”

“… Thanks,” Shinbashi mumbles, almost to himself, as he walks through the gate.

It’s a momentous first step : being no longer in the kingdoms. In the Land of Gems. Lily seems to not understand fully the occasion, looking a little bored now that she’s no longer being spoken to sweetly. But Shinbashi can hardly believe it. And Moran is at his side, looking down at the papers almost as if he’s reading them.

“What do we do now?” Lily asks, tugging on Shinbashi’s hand.

“… I suppose we buy ourselves a new round of tickets,” Shinbashi answers her, a little shell-shocked. “Over at the counter,” he points to the ticket booth on the gem side of the platform. “And we make our way further in.”

“And once we get there?”

“I dunno,” Shinbashi admits. “Guess we’ll find ourselves a hotel for the night. And tomorrow we’ll… see what we can do.”

“Are we going to be poor now?”

“Hopefully not.”

“But we won’t be rich?”

“I don’t think so.”

Lily hums and considers this. Shinbashi buys them their new set of tickets.

“Can I have a snack?” she asks, once they’re on the train and in their correct compartment. “Can I have ice cream?”

“Sure,” Shinbashi agrees. “It’s been… quite the day. I think you deserve it.”

She beams. “Can I go get it? I saw the kitchen when we came in.”

“Yes, but,” Shinbashi grabs her hand so she doesn’t go running out willy-nilly. “Be back in five minutes, okay? Don’t make me worry.”

“I won’t!”

She definitely isn’t listening. But Shinbashi lets her run out the door, excited to explore and get herself ice cream on Shinbashi’s dime. On her new… brother’s? Cousin’s? On Shinbashi’s dime.

Finally, Shinbashi feels like he’s allowed to decompress. Sighing, he all but slouches right out of his seat. It sure has been a day.

“Arata.”

Shinbashi’s cheeks burn. Not even a moment wasted. He cranes his neck to look up at Moran and finds him watching him, peacefully. His black tourmaline is gently held in an open palm in his lap.

“Moran,” Shinbashi replies. He pulls himself back up onto the seat. “What is it?”

“You have a nice name.”

How is this possible? To be so flushed and embarrassed over something silly like that? Shinbashi rubs at his cheeks.

“You pulled quite the stunt with yours. Shinbashi Moran.”

Seeing Moran almost smile once again, Shinbashi thinks he might officially have lost it. There’s no way he’ll ever fall out of love with this man.

“I like my name, too.”

Shinbashi gently holds Moran’s open hand. Laces their fingers together sweetly. Held safely in between both of their palms, the black tourmaline pulses with a healthy and happy heartbeat. It makes Shinbashi’s own swell. He rests his head on Moran’s shoulder.

“I’m glad. I do, too.”