Chapter Text
Her office was clean, barren the way it was before. Nothing hung on its walls that Kronii had to hide, everything was shoved into a drawer in Kronii's desk, and she furiously tried to forget everything that was in there.
Mumei would stop by every so often, sitting quietly in the corner, because Kronii couldn't pay attention to her, she was too busy with work.
Sana came by less and less, shoulders slumping each time she walked into Kronii's room and watched them scribble furiously on one document after the other, the various maintenance of different timelines. She would bring news of Fauna and Bae, who didn't show up as much either, and Kronii would barely listen to her.
So Sana would leave, and Kronii would be left alone again.
- - -
"I found her," Mumei said one day, kicking her feet back and forth as she slumped in one of Kronii's luxurious arm chairs. She heard Kronii's pen pause for a moment, and then continue.
"You did?" It was the first words Kronii had spoken to anyone other than 'hello' and 'goodbye'.
Mumei smiled, so soft, and Kronii was reminded of the first thought they’d had about Gura, about how alike the two were. Joy wrapped in pain, equal in measure, but tenderness was never lost. Mumei told her where she was, the city, the house she was in, the friends she had made.
"You know one of them," Mumei said with a raised eyebrow and wry smile, and now Kronii was fully listening, pen down and hands folded atop her desk. "Amelia Watson? The one who-"
"-I see." Kronii cut her off, jaw tight. Scales wormed their way up the sides of their face, their hands were fists hidden underneath the desk. Then it left them like a breath, an explosion that Mumei couldn't see or hear, that left Kronii sitting in their chair like a corpse, empty of whatever animated it. "Is she happy?"
"Yes."
"Hmm."
The Warden was silent. A clock ticked somewhere, before it stopped.
"Goodbye then, Mumei."
Kronii watched her go, nodded at Mumei's quiet goodbye. She stared at the papers on her desk, all the work she had to do. Her yearly trip would have been a week ago.
Her pen continued its scratching. Outside, Mumei watched as Kronii's domain shook like it was falling apart.
- - -
This was more akin to something Bae would do, or Fauna, or Sana, or Mumei. It was too caring for Kronii's ilk, to sit at a bus stop week after week, watching a small little house at the end of the road.
There appeared to be around five people living there, a blonde that would run out with a leash in her hands after a dog clearly off it. Amelia Watson, clearly. Someone tall would poke her head out of the door, pink hair rippling as she laughed, radiating an energy that Kronii recognized to be death's domain. It was obvious she noticed her too, how could she not? Death and Time worked closely together, on occasion.
A phoenix would appear in a window sometimes, glorious, and it would make a small quirk at the edge of Kronii's mouth that they wouldn't admit was a smile. Mumei would be happy to know there were still some out there.
There was even a priestess of the Old Ones, which Kronii had to repress a shiver upon seeing. The great eye of their magic was turned on her, and it somehow ignored them, calm and sated in the peaceful home it had found itself in. Kronii was glad for it, and for the girl, that she could smile with a steaming cup in her hands, seated in the living room with the rest of her friends.
Then there was Gura.
Kronii knew that she herself had changed. Her hair was cut shorter, her scales less controlled, now spreading over her arms and the sides of her face. Her ability to laugh, having grown when she met Gura, having shrunk when Gura left, was increasing again, a starved man's appetite flourishing once fed.
Gura had changed as well. She was happier, no longer skin and bones and scars and barely repressed grief. She laughed and lived, and in between the two, she gardened. It made Kronii smile; The others would be happy to hear about that bit too.
- - -
She watched them leave, a beige coat over their broad form, and glasses too, and the silliest little hat that made Gura long to run down the street and embarrass them for wearing it. But Kronii left as soon as they passed the last line of homes, Calli had reported when Gura sent her to check for her, disappearing into sand and spreading on the wind, probably going back to their domain.
"You should just talk to her, dude," Calli said when she saw Gura moping by the window, tail hanging between her legs like a defeated dog's would. "Cause if you both act like this you're going to go nowhere."
"But what if they’re mad at me?" Gura whined, shuffling over to thump on the couch beside Calli. "I didn't leave a note or anything."
"You didn't have anything to write on," Calli said, the voice of reason forty percent of the time in this household. Ina was the other sixty percent. "And the fact that she's still showing up shows she cares."
"Talking won't hurt." Ina's voice was quiet, a rasp in it from her recent cold. She sipped from a cup of steaming tea and smiled at Gura in that way that made her tail wiggle from the sheer joy of being its focus. "Go try it."
"Okay," Gura said, more to herself than anything, determination in her eyes. "I will."
- - -
Kronii was walking towards her usual bus stop, bringing with her some paperwork she needed to get done, that probably wouldn't get done anyways. She stilled when she saw the small shape sitting on the bench, wrapped in a deep blue coat, evidently waiting for her from how her head turned towards Kronii when she finallly noticed her dumbstruck form.
"Hi," Gura said quietly, Kronii barely able to hear her as she slid into the seat next to her.
It was a cold, quiet morning, the birds already chirping on the roofs of houses.
"Hello," Kronii said back, already uncomfortable with their polite pleasantries. She wanted a hug, she wanted Gura's touch, she wanted the shark's rambling about her day and what she was doing and how her friends were.
Instead, they got the bench digging into their back the way it usually did.
"How the hell do you sit here?" Gura grimaced, shifting again, tail tucked awkwardly underneath the curve of the armrest. "This sucks."
"It does," Kronii agreed, heart unclenching in their chest. "How are you?"
For a moment, Kronii thought they were going to be doomed to the awkward silence again, but then Gura cleared her throat and spoke.
"I'm doing good." She looked up at Kronii and smiled weakly. "You?"
Kronii didn't know what to say. She remembered that time so long ago, when she wanted to give Gura a gift and spent all night prepping for it, thinking of what to say, and then she never needed to think of what to say to Gura, because all she could say to her dear shark was the truth, whatever she felt, and Gura would listen with her head sweetly cocked to the side. Kronii's heart ached at the memory.
"You kept the hairclips," Kronii finally realized, ache growing stronger, like something had torn.
"I did," Gura said, almost breathily. Her eyes were big and blue, the ocean surrounding their island.
Kronii didn't know who kissed the other, only that Gura's mouth was warm and tasted like strawberries. Her teeth were sharp under her tongue, but Kronii had fangs too, and Gura made a pleased/happy/ecstatic sigh into Kronii's mouth at the realization. Her hands cupped Kronii's cheeks, a strength in her fingers that Kronii didn't know about, didn't realize, didn't think about until it pressed into her cheekbone a tad too roughly.
Their hands wrapped around Gura's, dwarfing them, one calloused from gardening and the other with a mere writer's callous from work. Gura squeezed. Kronii's hands went limp.
Gura pulled away, eyes panicked, searching Kronii's face to see what had happened, if she had done something wrong, but then all she was left with was a mound of sand on the bench and the warmth of Kronii's mouth lingering on her own.
- - -
"You left?"
"Yes."
"Why?!"
"I- I thought-"
"-She didn't want it or something? She would have told you, you know how Gura is."
"Don't try and make me feel better-"
"-You called me over because you knew I wouldn't try to!"
A pause.
"How long has it been?"
"Around a week."
"That's too long, Kronii. She finally goes to talk to you and you leave right after? She's going to think that you never want to talk to her again."
"She wouldn't go that far-"
"-Kronii, you remember what happened last time you were late by a day, right?"
"I hate it when you're the voice of reason."
"With how stupid you're acting, one of us has to be."
"But what if I go back and she wants me to leave?"
"Then you leave. At least you tried."
"But-"
"Kronii. You, of all people, should know the power of a wasted chance. I do too. It changes timelines, forever."
"Right."
"Go talk to her."
"Okay."
- - -
Honestly, Kiara had hoped it would go better. She and the other girls had of course noticed the stranger sitting at the bus stop watching their house once a week. Ame was the one who recognized her, and for a hot minute she thought it was because of the watch. Then Gura spoke up, and said it was probably about her.
It was a long, long story, and by the end of it, Kiara only hoped for the best. It was clear they cared about each other, if they didn't, Kronii wouldn't show up weekly when she had literal Time to take care of, and Gura wouldn't stare out the window like a mournful puppy at her every time she did show up.
But Gura burst into her room, mouth kiss swollen and eyes wide, and for a moment Kiara thought she was going to tell her all about it, every glorious moment. Instead, Gura cried in her arms, and Kiara wondered if it was possible for her to kill the Warden.
"It's alright, kleiner Hai," Kiara soothed, hands running through Gura's hair as the sobs turned into sniffles, turned into quiet shaking. "I've got you, it's alright."
There was a quiet rapping on the doorframe that made Kiara look up. Ame stood there, looking worried. Kiara beckoned her in, watched as Ame sat with them and wrapped her arms around Gura as well.
"What's wrong?" Ame asked quietly, when Gura had uncurled herself enough to press into Kiara's side, her tail in her lap.
"She left," Gura said simply, a blank look in her eyes, and Ame understood.
She had to take a deep breath and massage her temples, to find a way to explain to Gura how that just was how Kronii was, how she used Time as her shield from things she feared she would mess up. It had taken a long time for Ame to figure that out, and a few visits from the rest of Council to piece it together fully.
"They’re scared," Ame started. "Scared of hurting you."
"Then they shouldn't have left." There was a hard note in Gura's voice, and Kiara could feel the sharpness sliding into Gura's bones, rendering her into harshness and angles in her arms.
"Talk to them," Kiara pleaded, because she hated seeing Gura like this, twisted and cold, almost pulling away from her to curl in on herself again, to stew in whatever feelings she had in that big, big heart of hers. "They will explain."
Gura just growled. Kiara held her tighter, and hoped this wouldn't be enough to rattle her shark apart.
- - -
Kronii was at the bus stop again, waiting. This was the second time in a week she had shown up, and Gura had had enough. None of the girls stopped her as she tugged a coat on and went out the door, merely stomping by Kronii and trusting that she would follow her.
They stopped in a park, gloriously empty and silent. Even the birds didn't sing, and no wind rolled through to disturb the branches of the trees.
"Gura-"
"What?" The shark bit out, hoping that was enough, that Kronii would just frown and turn into sand, to crumple away and seal the eulogy of their centuries-long friendship with a single word.
"Listen," Kronii started, only to be met with a derisive laugh.
"Listen to what?" Gura crossed her arms, bared her teeth in a way that Kronii hadn't seen in a very, very long time. "You left me-"
"You left first," Kronii hissed, scales running up her body, leaving her feeling strange in her skin, under her clothes a current of nervous energy. "You didn't even say anything-"
"-I didn't want to stay on that island my whole life!" Gura threw her hands up into the air, stalked around in a small circle before moving back to jab a finger into Kronii's chest. "You could have taken me anywhere, away from there and-"
"I thought you were happy." Kronii wasn't crying. She would most certainly not cry over something like this. Her whole body felt like one cruel touch away from snapping, and Gura had a nail and hammer pressed to the crack in Kronii's armor. "I thought you were happy there."
"I-" Gura wilted. "I thought I was. I just didn't know I could be happier."
"Then I'm sorry," Kronii felt her knees waver, and she let them, falling onto her knees to grab one of Gura's hands, grass staining her pants, staring up at Gura beseechingly. "I'm, I'm sorry I left you there, when you could have been anywhere else except where-"
You lost everything, went unspoken.
Gura was staring at her, eyes wide and watery, clearly having not expected this. Deep in her bones, Kronii felt like Gura thought she would run away again.
"It's alright," Gura finally spoke, soft soft soft, like Kronii would break. Maybe she would. "It wasn't your fault."
"If you had asked," Kronii said hoarsely, head tilted down to see the dirt and patchy grass, an ant trotting by. "I would have taken you anywhere."
And she would have. Gura grew on her like a mollusk on a pier's columns, hardy and unwavering even with the tide and Kronii's incessant terribleness, she didn't leave. She didn't turn Kronii away. Maybe that was the true anomaly of Gawr Gura, how willing she was to have open arms and a smile, even when it hurt.
"I think," Gura broke off, voice going wavery and wet the way it did when she was about to cry. "Being anywhere with you is fine."
Kronii nodded, mouthing an 'okay' before she said it louder, firmer, before Gura collapsed too, and was a warm solid tangible thing in her arms. Kronii didn't think about running anymore.
- - -
She was back again, like clockwork. No longer sitting at the bus stop, but waiting at their front door for Gura to come by and drag her off to some new place she had found in the city. For cookies, for movies, for arcade games, Kronii followed her to all of them. When she went back to her domain and the rest of Council called them dates, all she could do was splutter and try to detract from the fact that they were right.
This time, Gura took her back to the arcade, hand warm in her own, tugging her to the back where all the 64-bit games were. Kronii remembered these, Bae had a few back in her own domain. Kronii decidedly did not play them with her, because she knew Bae would beat her soundly.
She figured that Gura couldn't possibly be as bad.
After Gura decidedly beat Kronii to the ground with a score that was several times higher than the Warden's, the staff finally approached them to tell them it was closing time. Good naturedly, they said goodbye and went outside, to the cool night still lit by the neon lights of the arcade.
"You don't need to do that," Gura protested when Kronii saw her shivering and wrapped her own jacket around her. She still buried herself into the fabric, looking up at Kronii's stoic features and watching them break into a tender smile.
"Maybe I do," Kronii said, poking Gura's cheek. "I'm still the authority here."
"Since when?" Gura rolled her eyes, churring happily.
Pink and blue scattered across her cheekbones, leached into her hair and turned it into a shade Kronii couldn't quite name. Gura caught her staring, laughed when Kronii blushed, her shoulders shaking and her tail a madly wagging thing, and the only thing Kronii could think of was to kiss her.
Gura was warm, though cold nipped at her neck that Kronii quickly covered with a careful hand. Her purr didn't end, instead vibrated up her throat and into Kronii's teeth, mouth pushing into her when Kronii pushed back, a give and take that ended with the both of them breathless, heat mingling between them, Gura's tail pressing against Kronii's calf.
"Live with me?" Kronii asked breathlessly, spur of the moment, possibilities spiraling away from them and Bae's words ringing in her head about wasted chances. Their scales rippled up her cheek unbidden, that Gura tenderly rubbed with her thumb, watched how they reflected the lights of the arcade.
"You're acting like I'm going to say no," Gura teased, even though her voice was wobbly and there was too much tenderness in her eyes for this to be a joke, and Kronii felt like she was turning into sand unwillingly, so she kissed Gura again, and hoped that she could hold her together.
Gura always did.
- - -
All of their boxes were stacked up by the door, filled with knicknacks and books and other necessities. Kronii's paperwork got its very own box, that Gura had excessively taped so that it would be hard for her to get into. All that got was a tired sigh and a happy chuckling purr from Gura.
"Are you sure?" Gura asked, even as her leg jiggled and her hands ran over the teeth of the key that fit so perfectly in her pocket. "I'm sure your domain is nicer."
"It doesn't have you," Kronii replied, and Gura wondered when they were getting so smooth, when all they were a few decades ago was thorns and weak bites to Gura's bark. "And I don't think you'd like it there."
"I might if you're there," Gura grinned cheekily, and then Kronii was laughing, dropping her set of keys and laughing harder, and then the pair was pushing into their new home, together.