For You, My Lord

Slinging her satchel around her neck instead of her shoulder for better comfort, Mizuki steps out of the bakery, almost tripping over her crutches in the process. She notices Mocha watching her, an awkward grin plastered on her face when she almost falls. Mizuki flashes a smile, confirming that she's fine. At Garden Olive, for the first time, Garden is nowhere seen around the counter, the woman she met last time cleaning the empty tables with a rag.

"H-How… How can I help you?" Olive peers up from behind the counter, almost giving Mizuki a fright. She steps forward, listing all that she needs to buy. Her face goes pale from the eventual price that accumulates. 'I only have 5000 left...'

Mizuki, very reluctantly, hands over her money, accepting an extra straw basket from Olive to carry the things. She's not so sure it's a great thing, considering she already has crutches to manage. As she turns, she hears a soft cry from Olive, to her. She quirks her eyebrow, expecting him to continue, occasionally looking down to make sure she's on balance.

"T-Thank you… For always speaking to us…" he smiles and a second heart out of seven appears over his head. Mizuki is impressed by this new development but doesn't wait any further for her own sake, continuing on her way back to Hinata's before she knows it's too dark for her to manage her way back.

She fumbles at the thought that things would be so much easier if only she took Hinata's help, that she'd be able to clear through these never-ending quests and cut to the chase if she didn't force herself to do it on her own. Making mental notes to re-organise her pace, she's soon in front of Hinata's home.

'How bold I am to show up at his door after being rude to him', Mizuki scoffs, even then, pushing the front door open. As she does, Hinata immediately snaps his head in the direction of the sound, scrambling towards Mizuki to help her with her things.

"If you don't want to rest, at least let me accompany you outside," he pleads in a soft voice, taking the bags from her hands. Mizuki leads herself forward to his couch, throwing her head back in exhaustion.

"I have so much to do. Can you keep up with that?" Mizuki turns her head.

"I've lived here my entire life. What's there that I can't do?" Hinata sets the bags against the table, serving a plate of steaming hot food to Mizuki. She recognises it as a Beef Wellington, thanks to a game feature that labels objects when she sees them.

Flashing a childish grin, she snatches the food from his hands before he can set it on the table properly, digging into it with the fork poked into it from the top. Of the countable things that Mizuki likes about this world, the undefeated contender of first place is Hinata's cooking.

There's something about the way he does it, the way flavours simply pop on her tongue regardless of what he makes.

"I realise we've been staying with each other for a while now and there's nothing that I know about you," Mizuki chews, her mouth full. Hinata seems to be mildly put off by this, the way his eyes are oddly fixated on her mouth. "You could be a thief."

Hinata lets out an incredulous laugh, having been called that his entire life. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. Some histories are meant to be left undiscovered."

Mizuki settles with this answer, knowing she'll be able to withhold information about herself too. If it was two weeks ago, she never would've deemed possible for one to be so comfortable around a stranger. She rests the plate against the table, flashing him an almost guilty grin, "Sorry, I'll wash plates when I can move around properly."

"It's nothing," Hinata chuckles, stepping forward. Lowering himself onto a knee, he reaches out for rolled bandages on the corner of the table, asking with a gentle-manly lilt in his voice, "Mind if I treat your wounds? Your bandages are bleeding through."

Mizuki can't resist the man when he's this nice. She stretches out her arms. Gently, Hinata undoes her bandages, unwrapping them promptly. Mizuki looks down at the gashes on her arms, a noticeable fluorescent pink running through her veins. It's obvious all across her arms, like scars left from the incident that happened. She gasps, horrified at the sight.

"It's why you don't fight against mages. Bandaging them up will prevent short-term damage," he elaborates, quickly covering up the wounds before they do further damage against her exposed skin.

Black magic, like he describes it, will make her skin rot if not taken care of properly - until it wears off, at least.

Mizuki shivers at the thought, pressing one arm against the couch to ground herself to the idea while the other is being treated. "I promised Mocha I would bake a few things for her. It's a part of a Side Quest."

"Shall we bake then?" Hinata suggests, standing. He helps Mizuki onto her feet. She turns back to her crutches, bending over to get their support when Hinata points out that he'll help her walk on her feet.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Mizuki adds, only to be led forward by Hinata against her will. She finds it excruciating to move on her legs, not really because of her feet, rather because her core is incredibly weak following the attack. She waddles more than walks, struggling to keep her balance on two feet. In the kitchen, she immediately grapples onto a counter for support, pressing her palm against the counter, paling from the pressure.

She bends over, curving her back. It only hurts more. Her eyelid twitches as she tries to hold back the pain, raising her gaze to Hinata. "You're protective over me and you make me do stupid things like this?"

"In my defence, you need this, Snowball," Hinata shrugs, pulling out items from their bags. Recalling recipes in his head, he separates ingredients based on which dish they're to be used for, making sure the proportions are no more and no less, else they'll go to waste when cooking. Mizuki stands at a side, with her lack of understanding and simple awe.

She steps forward, pushing his wrist aside. He turns his questioning gaze to her. "I want to help out," she frowns, then proceeds to stare at the ingredients blankly.

"You…" Hinata nudges her back. Mizuki stares at him expectantly, making sure that he doesn't suggest something brainless. "Can dump the ingredients into the pots."

Mizuki decides it's a fair exchange, at least she'll be doing the one thing she knows best. "What was cooking like in your world?" Hinata asks, earning a surprised response from Mizuki. He has never once asked about her world, neither has she told him.

"It takes a lot more time here depending on what you're making and a lot of recipes can be mixed around with many different ingredients. Anything's cookable as long as it's edible," Mizuki leans against the counter dividing the rest of the house and the kitchen.

"That's too complicated," Hinata comments, turning around.

"Probably, I don't even know how to cook," Mizuki laughs, which soon dissolves into a grimace, flicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Hinata, not knowing how to help, watches with a stony expression, reaching out a hand only to drop it at his side again.

"You can go rest if you want."

"Once you've got me wanting to move around without those stupid sticks, I doubt there's any going back for me now. I'll keep trying," Mizuki remarks, standing up reasonably straight. She takes baby steps forward without support, relaxing her core to minimise pressure. Hinata thinks and then hits a Eureka moment.

"Want to see some magic?" he calls her forward with his finger, wearing an oddly suspicious smirk on his face. Mizuki is reluctant, taking a wary step back. "Oh come on," Hinata beckons, raising his hands.

Mizuki gives in, inching closer to see what he has to show. When she peers towards the counter, Hinata dumps his palms into a bag of flour and claps his hands, sending a massive cloud of flour poofing into the air. Mizuki coughs, blowing through her nostrils, waving her fingers in front of her face. At some point, she swears she catches Hinata's silhouette scurry past her.

When the cloud finally dissipates into the air, she looks ahead with a firm stare, only to not see Hinata. When turns, still wheezing a little, noticing Hinata holding up two plates of Apple Pie.

"For you, my lady," he bends slightly, holding out the plates to her.

Mizuki's expression softens and then she laughs, a little longer this time because really, no amount of pain can stop her from enjoying a moment that's specially for her.

"You play around too much," Mizuki punches him playfully in the shoulder.

"Yeah? And you don't like it?" Hinata laughs, tapping her lightly on the nose. Mizuki gets flustered by this sudden action, tips of her ears reddening in surprise.

"U-Ugh, I never said that," she elbows him away, dumping the ingredients into pots. She waits - counting one, counting two - and when she reaches five, the utensils rumble and out come flying two plates of Carrot Cake. Mizuki has to reach forward to catch them right on the square of her palms, wincing as she feels a stretch in her abdomen.

She turns to Hinata, doing a playful curtsey. "For you, my lord."

Mizuki's smile grows smaller as she notices a flicker in Hinata's eyes. It's a short, quick one - a glimmer of sadness, darkness. She can't tell what it is, perhaps a memory. She doesn't let this observation show, the clinking from setting the food on the table immediately reminding him of his surroundings.