“keep them both out of trouble, won’t you?” it’s a simple enough request, if a bit abrupt. yuri delivers it like he’s asking about the weather, sat on one of the classroom’s desks with his head tilted up as though to count the bricks in the ceiling. (he doesn’t have to actually count to know the number, but only because he’s already done so once before, bored out of his mind on night watch.)
after a few beats of silence, though, he tilts his head back down, waving his invitation through the air in explanation. “for little old me,” he says with a sigh. he really can’t fathom why. lady rhea’s doing, maybe. not that he’s seen her recently enough to be able to ask. “it should only be a few days, but i told balthus he was in charge of my gang until i got back. even he can’t mess it up that quick, but i’d prefer to have one to return to, if it’s anything to you.”
there’s no grand farewell, but that’s just how it always goes. really, it’s worth more that yuri comes to say goodbye at all. with a small hop, he’s back on his feet and heading for the door, a parting comment thrown over his shoulder, “i’ll bring you back something nice, yeah? a festival’s gotta have something. just don’t tell the others.”
“yeah, yeah, just leave it to me.” to yuri's wave: a lazy, empty-handed one of her own, moreso a flick of her wrist as hapi's bored gaze stays trained on the same bricks. she doesn't need to peer over to guess what he's holding, and in turn guess what he means.
no questions asked. all the important ones answered. her crossed legs don't even budge from where they're propped atop the desk she's claimed. prefer to have one to return to, says yuri. he must know by now that it isn't just anything to hapi, and it never will be just anything for as long as they live, but he has the decency not to mention it. she has the decency to ignore his sigh in return.
all in all, it's a smart call from him—the only call to make. balthus steers up top, hapi watches below deck, constance covers the missing pretty face. there's a little more to it than that, of course, but the details down here stay where they belong behind closed doors.
“for little old you, then. i'll make sure nothing explodes and put out any fires b or coco might start. wouldn't want to let down our ‘virtuous’ leader.” through nobility's mouth, the word already loses any weight no matter how many gold-embossed invites they tack it onto. hapi is certain that among the current occupants of this room, more than one has already laughed at the principle, and on an idler note, she's also certain that more than one of them might know a little too much of the festival's botched ledgers.
but that was neither here nor there. the promise of souvenirs hits her ears, and hapi's head finally tilts back after yuri, watching their upside-down frame saunter off. that mayor has been throwing around his weight for months; with all the abundance and wealth he's been flaunting, hopefully there'll be something worthwhile to bring back from baile.
“‘kay,” she calls after them, a pleased note in her voice. “you said it, not me. i take donations in snacks, cool-looking rocks, or whatever other hapi-themed goodies you can find.”
there's no grand farewell. there's rarely a farewell at all. but it does not escape hapi that there is a farewell to speak of this time, a greeting with gifts to look forward to, and the reunion for which that already agrees: he will take care during this trip.
her attention returns to the ceiling; she's lost her own count of how many bricks there are. hapi gives up. she'll just have to make yuri give her the answer when he comes back, too.
