Episode Two

I rubbed my heavy eyes and stirred the pot.

I’d tried to be up before Selene, which meant an unreasonably early hour. A soup thick with vegetables in every colour — not quite up to her standard, but not bad for me, I think.

I arranged sliced bread on a plate, poured water into the glasses. All that was left was to wait for her to come out.

I was nodding off at the kitchen table when a familiar voice finally reached me.

“Good morning. You’re up early today.”

Her sleep-mussed hair caught my eye for just a moment. We’d been living together long enough, and yet I almost never saw her like this — unguarded, undone. It was a little startling.

The White Witch is all well and good. But this Selene, right now, feels more like herself. I think I prefer her this way.

“Morning. It’s your birthday, so. You might want to do something about that hair.”

The words she says to me every morning — today I said them back, just slightly sharp.

Selene’s eyes went wide for just an instant, and then she went to the mirror without a word. Something had shifted in her rhythm, just a little, and it put me in a good mood.

I turned back to the pot and ladled soup into two bowls.

We ate breakfast together — Selene returning with her hair falling in its usual silk-smooth way — and when I stood to go and get ready, she called after me.

“Your clothes are laid out in your room. Wear those.”

“What do you mean?”

I watched her back recede toward her own room at a brisk pace without answering.

Our heights were different, our proportions were different — I couldn’t imagine anything of hers being the right size. I didn’t think she’d put me in something awful, but the departure from her usual behaviour had me off-balance.

“Put this on.”

What she handed me was a black dress with a striking frill trimmed in white. The size — probably exactly right.

“Wait — why do you even have this? It’s too small to be yours.”

“We’re wasting time. Change quickly. You said you’d do as I say today, didn’t you?”

She went back to her own room without waiting for an answer. From the other side of the door came the soft sound of fabric moving — she was already changing.

“…None of this makes sense.”

The dress is genuinely pretty. Putting it on myself felt faintly embarrassing, but it wasn’t bad. I went back to my room, took off my house clothes, and stepped into the dress.

A little too cute for me, maybe… My face in the mirror had gone pink.

“Are you done?”

The door opened without warning and my heart lurched. I’d reflexively tried to cover myself with both arms — but barely managed half.

“You’re supposed to knock before coming into someone’s room! I told you that!”

“I did. You must have been miles away.”

She was frowning slightly, and she didn’t look like she was lying. Apparently I’d been staring at my own reflection.

“…I see. Anyway — isn’t this a bit too cute? For me?”

I tugged at the skirt — sitting just above the knee — and gave her a pointed look.

I almost always wore skirts that covered my knees completely. This length left my legs bare in a way that made me restless.

“It’s lovely. The clothes are settled.”

The same flat voice as always. And yet something in what she’d said sent a small warm pulse through me.

Lovely. She didn’t say things like that, ordinarily.

“Next — your hair. Come here.”

She left the room again at her quick pace. I watched her go, and something in me became unsettled.

The long hair she usually wore down had been gathered high and tied in a single knot. That part didn’t particularly catch me. But the black hair ornament — last year’s gift — was sitting nestled in her silver hair, clear as anything.

“…You didn’t throw it away.”

I’d assumed it had been discarded. Sold, even.

“Sion? Come along.”

Selene looked at me with a faintly puzzled expression and reached for my hand, drawing me out of the room. I looked again to be sure — and yes, it was the hair ornament. The same one.

It wasn’t as though I had any particular attachment to it. Just one more gift among many. And yet for some reason my eyes wouldn’t leave her hair.

“Sit.”

I tried to watch Selene working the brush through my hair in the mirror — and caught sight of my own face. Flushed cheeks. An expression I didn’t quite recognise as mine. Not wanting to see it, I kept my eyes down and let her do as she liked.

Low-heeled shoes on, small holiday bag in hand, I opened the front door.

The sky spread clear and endless blue. Good — a fine day. Rain on a birthday would have put a damper on everything.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“…Mm.”

I looked toward Selene stepping out. A long white skirt, a deep black blouse. The two of us, in one combination. She always looked well put-together, but today there was something more deliberate about it.

“Um—”

“What is it?”

She tilted her head, curious.

“I was wondering — could I change my hair? Please?”

I gestured at my own head as I murmured it. The hair gathered high on my head swung from side to side with every step, and I couldn’t settle.

The style itself was fine. It was just—

“Why? It’s matching — it’s sweet, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s — fine, but I’m a little embarrassed.”

Matching hairstyles, just the two of us. There were days I wore my hair down anyway, so it wasn’t as though matched hair was unheard of. But going out together styled alike on purpose felt conspicuous.

“You don’t need to worry about that. Shall we?”

She took my hand in hers, firmly, and set off walking. The sudden warmth made me look at her face before I could stop myself.

“I — we don’t have to hold hands—”

“You said you’d do as I say. Didn’t you?”

Selene looked across at me, expression open and guileless, swinging our joined hands as she spoke.

“I did, but…”

Dressed up, matching hairstyles, walking hand in hand through the streets. If anyone who knew us saw this, it would turn into something complicated.

Whether the lightness in her step and the smile on her face were genuine or deliberate, I couldn’t tell. Either way, something deep in my chest wouldn’t be still.

“I’ve planned everything we’re doing today. You don’t need to think about a thing — just enjoy it.”

“…Fine. But don’t blame me if the White-Black Bulletin runs something strange.”

I said it bluntly to her bright, animated face.

“I’m rather looking forward to seeing how they write it up.”

She smiled — playful, wicked at the edges — and I let out my second sigh of the day.

Questions remained. But today was her day, and she’d helped me through enough things. There was nothing here that was embarrassing enough to truly object to, and breaking this particular mood felt wrong.

And — the truth was, being close to her like this made me feel oddly settled. Perhaps I was lonelier than I’d realised.

I decided to think of it as paying back some of what I owed her, and went where she led.