An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Little Witch Academia
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Ursula Callistis | Chariot du Nord/Croix Meridies
Characters: Ursula Callistis | Chariot du Nord, Croix Meridies
Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, The Author Regrets Nothing, please do not hurt me i will make them happy soon
Summary:
Professor Ursula gets a visit during the night. Two childhood friends take a moment to put away their differences and reflect upon the past.
Ursula sat by her lonesome at her desk, peering at an old photograph under the warm glow of her lampshade. It was another one of those nights where she felt tired, but restless all the same. There were only the stars to whisper to her their secrets that night through her window facing towards the sky.
The picture she held gently between her fingers was one from the golden age, when people still respected and revered magic – when Luna Nova was filled to the brim with bright-eyed girls so freely chasing their dreams of becoming a true witch. Ursula herself, was one of them–or, perhaps–it would be best to refer to her as ‘Chariot’, if speaking in past tense. The girl she stood tall next to with a wide smile dancing across her face was one too, during that time. Then, her name was Croix. Now, her name is still the same, and yet it seems that everything else has changed since then.
Ursula brushed across the photograph with her fingertips. There are just some things that magic simply cannot bring back, nor can it fix.
Two knocks came at Ursula’s door.
“I-I’ll be right there!” She half-mindedly stuffed the photo between two books on her table and scrambled up to her feet as she wondered what kind of visitor she would have at this time of night. The young professor approached her door, twisted the doorknob and quickly swung it open, expecting her usual upbeat student to be standing there.
Instead, a much taller, and a much, much more familiar figure stood before her eyes. Of course, within a split second of seeing that all too familiar lavender hair, her face twisted into a scowl. She quickly whipped down a hand to hover over her wand at her side as she was about to slam the door back shut, until the woman on the other side stopped it with a thud.
“Whoa, whoa, hey now. Simmer down, Chariot. Can’t an old friend pay a visit from time to time?” Croix grinned and pulled out something she hid behind her back. “Seems like I wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping, huh? I brought some nice tea…It’s the kind that you like.” She held out the box of tea and opened it, revealing the neatly arranged packets of seemingly expensive tea. Ursula relaxed her arm, but still glared in suspicion between the box and the woman. Croix sighed and lolled her head to the side. “I understand if you don’t want me to come in, but at least take the tea. I bought it for you in the first place.” She gestured towards her offering of peace.
Ursula thought in silence for a moment. Croix wasn’t really the type to pull underhanded tricks to get what she wanted. Ursula knew this and decided to give her the benefit of the doubt, stepping to the side to gesture her into her quarters. Croix chuckled.
“Thanks.” She stepped inside as Ursula slowly closed the door shut.
“…I’ll got put on a kettle.” Ursula muttered.
“Ah, yeah, go ahead.” Ursula plucked the box of tea from Croix’s hands, then turned on her heels and stepped into another room.
Croix–in Ursula’s absence–glanced around, observing the room piece by piece. First to catch her eye was the old ball of feathers perched silently on a tall, wooden T-stand that traced Croix’s every step with its black, beady eyes. She trodded up to it, extending a hand that hovered nearby the fowl’s head. Its eyes squinted in judgement as it leaned forward–before bowing to reveal the nape of its neck as if providing permission.
“Long time no see, Alcor. I see you’ve aged well.” Croix chuckled softly as she scratched his feathered head. He whispered out a “caw” in response. Croix stepped back to tour around a bit more as Alcor went on to preen the azure feathers at his wing.
Compared to her own place, it was like comparing a medieval tower to a laboratory on the top floor of a skyscraper. But still, there was plenty of comfort to be taken in a room like this one. The nostalgia and the blue light of the moon filtering in through the large skylight was a nice touch. Once Croix had her fill, she wandered over to the workdesk at the side. Ungraded homework assignments, study materials, and plans for upcoming classroom topics were so littered across the table you couldn’t even see the table itself.
Croix, out of habit, took the liberty of organizing the papers herself. She wasn’t even quite aware of what she was doing until after she separated the papers into neat piles. Her hands seemed to move on their own. The tall professor smiled inwardly and crossed her arms.
“I guess old habits die hard.” She thought to herself. Her eyes scanned over the desk one more time before she turned around to check on the other professor. But just as Croix turned her back, something seemed to shout at her eyes. She pivoted back around and spotted something stuck between two books. Croix reached out and pinched the corner to gently pull it out from its hiding spot. At first, it seemed to be just a regular photo-sized paper at a glance. But when Croix turned it over to see the picture, her eyes widened.
“This photo…” She whispered to herself. “So she kept it too.”
“Sorry that took so long. I couldn’t find the kettle.” Ursula apologized as she walked back into the main room with a tray holding a teapot and two teacups seated on saucers. Croix jumped as she clumsily fumbled the photo back between two books on the desk before Ursula could notice.
“It’s no problem,” Croix assured. “I took it upon myself to organize the papers on your desk. I hope you don’t mind.” She gestured to the desk.
“O-oh, thanks.” Ursula forced out. She approached her table with her gaze aimed down at her feet and set down the teapot along with the teacups before quickly turning back to return the tray. Croix poured out the tea into the cups, then pulled up a chair. Once Ursula returned, she gracefully sat down and slowly picked up the steaming cup of tea.
Alcor perked his head up, taking notice of the two witches that had cared for him when he was but a chick finally reunited. He extended his wings, taking flight towards Croix and perching upon her head. He cawed happily.
“Hey, Al. Don’t mess up my hair. For the last time, it’s not a nest.” Croix chided. Ursula couldn’t help but smile at the familiar scene.
“He missed you.” Ursula said as Alcor began to nestle in Croix’s hair.
Alcor squawked repeatedly as if he was laughing and hopped down to Croix’s shoulder. Croix sighed at him in defeat, figuring she’d might as well let him do as he liked for now.
Ursula took a moment to close her eyes and enjoy the aroma the beverage offered into the air. Once she opened her eyes again, she saw Croix putting the still steaming cup of tea to her lips.
“Oh, wait, it’s still ho-
”
Too late. Croix had already taken a sip.
…But she simply just stared back down at her reflection in the teacup with a blank expression.
“…Uh…Croix…?” The professor in question looked back up at attention.
“Yes? What is it?”
“Are you…alright? You drank that tea when it was still hot.” Ursula pointed out. Croix cocked her head to the side and flicked her eyes down at her tea. She chuckled upon realization.
“Ah, of course. Hot tea is nothing once you’ve eaten instant cup noodle for days on end. I get impatient when I wait for it to cool down.” Croix explained with a grin.
“You’re still eating those? Even after all these years?” Ursula exasperated.
“Yes.” The other professor deadpanned. Ursula shook her head as she put a hand on her temple. “What? They’re easy to make. Can’t really blame a witch can you?” Croix shrugged.
“Maybe so, but you shouldn’t be eating them everyday! It’s bad for your health!” Ursula reprimanded.
“…Oh?” Croix raised a brow with a knowing smile. Once Ursula realized what she had let slip out, she quickly snapped a hand over her mouth.
Ursula huffed as heat began to rise to her face and went on to drink her tea.
“Seems like the former Moonlight witch still cares for me. That warms my heart.” Croix teased. Ursula furrowed her brows.
“Well, I could say just the same to you, Croix.” She shot back.
“Hm?”
“At the Wagandea Tree.” Ursula clarified. She set her cup down on the saucer. “I heard your voice as I was falling down, telling me to wake up. When I opened my eyes, I saw your face, looking down at me like…like you were scared.” Croix’s expression twisted into a frown as she put down her teacup onto the desk. Ursula’s gaze bore into Croix, searching for an answer.
“Yeah, I was.” Croix confessed. “At that moment, I felt as if I was thrown back all those years ago when we were kids. All I could think about as I chased after you was how I wouldn’t ever be able to forgive myself if I’d let you die. So…yeah. I was scared, Chariot.”
Chariot du Nord’s eyes widened a bit at the honesty. “A-ah…Is that so…?”
“But, despite my attempt, you still managed to get yourself hurt from another fall. If it weren’t for Akko and the Claimh Solais, you’d be covered in bandages right now.” Croix’s eyes traced down Chariot’s sleeve.
Chariot subconsciously fidgeted her hands around, attempting to cover up the marks on the top of her hand. Croix had already noticed and extended her arm, gently taking Chariot’s hand into hers to examine the scratches marring her soft skin. She pulled out her wand and muttered a spell under her breath. Her aura began to glow as tendrils of emerald magic flowed from herself to Chariot’s hands. The scratches quickly sealed themselves and not a mark was left upon the professor.
“There. All better now.” Croix lifted Chariot’s hand, pressing her lips against the silky skin. Chariot gasped, mind racing in shock. Two sides of herself began to clash. If things had been normal between them, she would have welcomed it–maybe even blush a little. But the things that Croix has done ever since coming to Luna Nova–not as a student–but now as a professor, Chariot could not forgive.
She scowled, chair scrapping against the stone floor as she bolted up and jerked her hands away from Croix’s hold.
“Chariot…” Croix watched her storm away and up the stairs to her observatory. She got to her feet, dropping off Alcor back to his T-stand before following after Chariot. The fowl looked on with his head cocked in curiosity.
Chariot leaned her back against the fence, gazing up at the moon in deep thought. Its waning shape seemed to tower proudly over the land along with the stars.
“Chariot…Hey, Chariot…” Croix called out. The professor continued to look upwards.
“Croix…Why did you come here?” Chariot questioned, meeting eye to eye with the woman at her side. “Please, tell me the truth.” She pleaded.
Croix peered into her fiery eyes. They were like a blaze that burned at her insides and left her bare. She turned and peered up at the moon just as Chariot had.
“I came here because…I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Croix said softly.
“You’re…sorry?”
“Yeah. For everything. Up till now, and…for what’s to come. I know what I’m doing is wrong. But there’s no other way. I can’t just rely on some naive teenage girl who doesn’t even realize the significance of the Claihm Solais to restore magic back to the world. That’s why I took matters into my own hands, and I won’t stop until magic is returned throughout the land.”
Chariot put a hand up to her head, wincing. “You came all the way across the academy just to tell me that? You’re sorry, but you’re still going to keep on doing the despicable things you’ve done up till now. Is that it?”
Croix nodded. The professor sighed and shook her head.
“That’s so like you. Whatever. I’m…I’m too tired to even say anything else.” Chariot slid down to the floor as she removed her glasses and rubbed at her temple. Croix sat down next to her with her knees pulled up to her chest.
“I’m sorr-”
“Stop talking.”
Croix snapped her mouth shut on command. She stayed silent, drumming her fingers against her knees while her eyes kept flicking back from Chariot, to the window, to Chariot, and back to the window again.
“Alright, fine. What.” Chariot clipped.
“W-well…if you wanted, you could always…use my shoulder, if you’re tired.” Croix said, looking away at some corner. Her brain scolded her for saying such things that sounded stupid, but still went on to blurt out anyways.
However, a pressure upon her shoulder stopped her stream of self-berating thoughts. The familiarity of it seemed to unknot all the anxiety burdening her chest. Croix looked down at Chariot, smiling softly. She warily lifted a hand to drape part of her cloak around the other professor.
“Croix…” Chariot said, barely above a whisper. Croix hummed in response. “Why did…everything have to change like this? Sometimes I wish we could turn back time. Back to when we were both students again. Back to when we were young and foolish. Naive and…”
And in love.
A knot tied itself at her throat before she could finish her thought.
“Yeah…It would be nice if we could simply turn back the clock, wouldn’t it? But time doesn’t know how to look back. All it does is keep marching forward. Onward…and onward…until even the universe itself withers away. Even then, time will still keep moving.” Croix mused.
Chariot’s eyelids began to grow heavy. Eventually Croix’s scent, mingled with her own, provided a blanket of comfort around her senses. The familiarity and nostalgia of it all made Chariot curl even closer to Croix’s body. Even if it were to be just for a moment, Chariot wanted to savor it. Slowly, the colors began to blur and fade…
Croix watched Chariot’s long lashes flutter sofly, like the wings of a butterfly, to a close. Her breaths were small and light, almost like a child’s. Croix tucked an arm under Chariot’s knees and gently lifted her up with her other arm supporting her back into a bridal carry. Chariot’s head fell into Croix’s chest as the lavender-haired professor slowly walked her down the stairs to her bed.
Alcor watched closely while Croix set the slumbering professor down on her bed. She unclipped her cape from her collar and draped it over Chariot as a blanket.
“Good night, Chariot,” She murmured. “Sleep well.” With a chaste kiss upon the forehead, Croix turned on her heels to leave, until something had crossed her mind. She walked back to the desk, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a square folded slip of paper and inserted it between the two books. Croix clicked the lamp off, leaving only the moonlight to illuminate the room. She headed towards the door.
Alcor observed her intently as she was about to leave. He cawed softly, not loud enough to wake his master, but audible enough to give his former a farewell. Croix looked back as she opened the door and chuckled.
“See ya later, Al. Take care of her for me.”
The fowl bowed as he saw her off. Croix stepped outside, closing the door with a soft click.
Chariot woke up in a circular room adorned with harsh red lights. She squeezed her eyes open and close a few times to adjust to the jarring lights, then slowly rose up to her feet with a hand at her temple. Without a doubt in her mind, this room was certainly a creation of Croix’s. Her scent was here.
The blood red lights were installed into the walls of the room and extended upwards into darkness. Chariot craned her neck upwards to see where they led, but it was as if they were just being swallowed by a black hole. She looked to her left and right where a hall on each side stretched into the depths of even more darkness. Chariot put a hand to her chin, contemplating which way to go before deciding on the left hallway. Croix’s scent seemed to be stronger in that direction.
Chariot pulled out her wand to light her path. She hesitantly put one foot forward into the pitch black hallway, her heart shaking in her chest. With a deep breath, she descended into the thick shadows of the corridor.
With each click of her heel, it seemed that a hum of energy whirred louder and Croix’s scent grew stronger. Her hand that reached outwards with her wand began to tremble. She thought that this hallway might never have an ending.
Finally, a dim light shined through. It was only just a speck, but a welcome sight to Chariot after having wandered through the dark for far too long. She ran, hoping to find some answers or clues as to what was happening at the end of this narrow tunnel. The light grew larger and larger as she approached. Soon it become too bright, stinging her eyes as she got closer. Chariot raised an arm to shield it from blinding her any further just as she crossed over the threshold. She stopped running when her heels seemed to click against what seemed to be metal plating, blinked away the spots in her vision and raised her head.
Her eyes widened. Before her stood a monolith of a mockery of the Shiny Rod, and in front of it, a blood red cape hanging upon the shoulders of her childhood friend.
“Croix!” She shouted. “What’s the meaning of this!? What do you plan on doing!?”
The woman did not respond. Croix continued to look down at her device. “Croix! Answer m-! Argh!” A sudden blast of air gusted about the room. Chariot snapped her arms up as her ponytail came undone and hair flew freely at her back.
“At long last…the Noir Rod is at full power. Now, I can finally restore magic…I can show that Woodward that she was fool for not picking me!!” Croix cackled into the air. The Noir Rod, as Croix had called it, took off into the air like a missile, breaking through the roof and causing it to crumble down. Chariot watched it as it flew upwards at the moon.
“Croix…what have you done!?” She yelled. The caped woman continued to laugh as if she’d lost all form of sanity.
Chariot traced the flight of the missile’s journey to the stars…and then watched it halt to a stop…then gasped in realization as the missile began to descend right back on top of them. Except now, it no longer seemed to take the form of a missile or a rod. No…now, it had transformed itself into a black wyvern streaked with red magic, its eyes trained straight down at Croix.
“Look out! It’s coming back!” Chariot cried. She jumped forward, only to fall not even two feet in front of her. Some sort of force weighted her legs down like lead balls. She extended a hand. “Croix, move! Get out of the way! You’ll die!!” She begged in desperation, only for her words to fall onto deaf ears. The caped woman only cackled madly, arms spread wide as if about to embrace the creature.The wyvern quickly grew closer and closer. It roared a deafening roar.
Chariot called out to woman she had once loved so dearly one last time, just before the monster came crashing down to decide their fate.
“Croix!” Chariot shot up in a cold sweat, her breaths ragged and hair burning red. Alcor squawked and flapped his wings in shock from his master’s sudden outburst.
It was just a bad dream…
Chariot looked around her room. Everything to be perfectly normal. No wyvern. No red lights. No Croix…
The young proferssor suddenly felt something warm on her cheek. She touched a hand against it to find it damp. For a moment, it didn’t occur to her that she had been crying.
“Oh no…What am I doing…?” She brushed a sleeve across her eyes to wipe away the tears welling up. “Just a bad dream. It’s just a bad dream, Chariot. Nothing to cry over. It’s alright.” She mumbled to herself in reassurance. Once her blurry vision cleared up, she sniffled and swung her legs over the side of the bed, only to realize the scarlet cloth over her lap. She stared over it for a while with her brows furrowed together before sighing, folding it up, and laying it at the corner of her bed. The professor rose to her feet and wandered over to her workdesk, seeking some sort of distraction like paperwork to help take her mind of things. She sat down on her wooden chair that creaked against her weight. Chariot moved over the cold tea to the side and shuffled the reorganized papers in front of her to work on.
Chariot had only managed to pick up her pen before something about the scene seemed a bit strange in the back of her mind. She scanned around her desk, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary, until it appeared to her a slip of paper that stuck out between two books. Normally, this wouldn’t seem so odd to her. She would often take out that paper and reminisce about old times. But what was odd was that the photo was lodged in two different books than the two she always hid it in. Chariot’s hand moved on its own, gripping the photo by its corner and pulling it out. As it slipped from its hiding place, another piece of paper came out with it and dropped onto the table. It had been folded into a small square.
Chariot picked it up and slowly unfolded it by its corners. Her eyes met the ink on the paper.
It was a photo of them, still as students. The young Chariot was lying down on Croix’s lap, her eyes closed and sleeping soundly while Croix smiled at the camera with a hand on Chariot’s fiery red hair.
She remembered this photo from years ago. Chariot had kept it when she found out Croix took the picture without her knowing in embarassment, but couldn’t find it later on and figured she simply had misplaced it. To think that Croix had been to one to have kept it all this while…
Chariot’s body shook. She snapped a hand over her mouth to keep the noise at the back of her throat from coming out, as a familiar sensation began to well up in the corners of her eyes. Her chest constricted and body shuddered more violently with each passing second.
Why? Why now? All this time, she’d been concealing herself behind a mask after throwing away the bright, shining person she once was. She’d worn her heart on her sleeve, but now, all the things she wanted to scream and cry were all just tucked away in little glass bottle hidden inside her heart. She thought that she’d learned well enough by now how to keep those feelings sealed away.
Maybe it had gone on for too long. Maybe the glass bottle was beginning to crack. Maybe the glass bottle had even already shattered with this one, small, photograph.
Or, maybe, it was because even through all of this, after doubting if Croix even remembered who she was or what they had been through together throughout their youth, it was comforting to know that she still cared.
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