Another day in LCB, another day of the mundane. For now, at least.
Ishmael sighed, stumbling back onto the bus relatively unscaved, her coworkers needing much more assistance and even some rewinding from Dante. She sighed, finding her seat to see… a present, of sorts. A folded piece of paper and a small bouquet of around 12 roses.
Rodion chimed in, Don Quixote resting against her shoulder. “Oooo, I didn’t know you had a Valentine, Ishy! Who’s the lucky gal?”
Ishmael shrugged her shoulders, taking the note and bouquet to rest in her lap. She forgot what day it was, realizing how affectionate Rodion and Don Quixote had been to each other much more than usual. Even Outis was in a good mood, Ishmael catching some soft spoken words exchanged between her and Faust. She never cared for such holidays, finding it pointless when she could stay on work schedule or even be ahead.
She turned back to Rodion. “Never had one. Don’t know what it’s like havin’ one.”
“Well you do now! Maybe it’s some pretty gal back at the headquarters who’s had her eye on you. Hope it wasn’t some guy though, you’d be a heartbreaker.” Rodion commented, giggling as Don Quixote wrapped her arms around her tighter, the conversation coming to an end.
Ishmael sighed, admiring the flowers. They were a bright red, almost bloodlike. But they were gorgeous and well cared for, as if they were grown somewhere in the bus itself.
There weren’t many contestants, ruling out all of the men on the bus immediately. Leaving only the female sinners, but they were all taken except…
Ryoushuu didn’t say anything as she walked onto the bus, unequipping her Chef identity in favor of her regular seat. She must have felt eyes on her, seeing her glance at Ishmael before quickly sitting down.
Before she could stand up, the bus began moving to their next location, leaving Ishmael to admire the gifts she was given. It felt like an eternity, Ishmael holding the flowers close as she leaned her head against the window, as they went to their next destination.
It’s no secret Ryoushuu was handsome, anyone with eyes could see it. Ishmael always knew that. She admired how stoic and confident she was. It was an effortless confidence she drawn to, sometimes finding herself staring at her in their free time before
She’d thought about it, and wondered about the aspect of a romantic relationship with Ryoushuu. She thought about it more than she’d want to admit, thinking of holding her hand as Ryoushuu took a drag of her cigarette before Ishmael kissed her cheek. She’d thought of telling her today, but thought otherwise. Ryoushuu wasn’t the most vulnerable, and Ishmael wouldn’t exactly be romantic enough to get to her heart.
Though… maybe Ryoushuu was more vulnerable than Ishmael thought.
–
After what felt like an eternity, the bus stopped moving, Dante’s repetitive tics of <”I hereby conclude the work day for the sinners. Nice job, everyone.”> Ishmael nodded, the bus erupting into conversation as Vergillious and Charon left for their respective rooms. The boys were loud, Heathcliff’s voice erupting into laughter as he dragged the boys to his side, something about “Having a bros before hoes Valentines day.” At least she wasn’t the only one who never celebrated it properly.
Rodion and Don Quixote stood from their seats, hand in hand as they waved goodbye to everyone. Rodion caught Ishmaels eye, as Rodion pointed at Ryoushuu and mouthed good luck.
Well. Not used to being shy now.
Ryoushuu was the last sinner to stand, her cigarette smoked down to its bud as she tossed it outside the window. Ishmael takes a deep breath, clearing her throat, gaining Ryoushuu's attention as she turn around to face her.
“W.D.Y.W.”
Ishmael furrowed her brows, shrugged her shoulders. “Rodion told me that you left these for me. The flowers. Is that true?”
Ryoshuu didn’t look at her, opting to look away in favor of lighting her cigarettes. It was a different brand than her usual ones. She didn’t look at her, but Ishmael could see the tips of her ears were red behind her raven hair and a subtle nod.
“The note. D.Y.R.I.?”
The note? Ishmael unfolded it from her pocket, tucking the roses in her arm as she unfolded it. She felt eyes on her as she did, finally reading it in its entirety. Its penmanship was delicate, as if every word were written with the same car as a painting.
“My muse I adore
Your colors bewitching me
Painting my world bright”
The two stood in silence, faces red for the same reasons. Ishmaels heart was pounding, butterflies in her stomach fluttered about as if they wanted to escape, wanting to hide behind her hair.
Ryoushuu was quiet, not wanting to look Ishmael in her eyes. Ishmael held the note to her chest. “You wrote this about me?”
The ravenette said nothing at first, taking a drag of her cigarette and letting out a sigh. “Not my favorite form of art, but A.I.A.N.”
Ishmael smiled, wrapping her arms around ryoshu from behind, feeling the woman in question shudder before placing one of her hands on top of Ishmaels.
“I love it. I'd love to be your muse, if you’ll have me.”
Ryoushuu chuckled, taking her cigarette out of her mouth to turn around. “Good. I take my artwork seriously.”
Ishmael giggled, holding Ryoushuu a little closer to herself. “I can't wait to see what art we make then.”