"What in the blazes just happened?!"
Chef Tulliver yelled from across the kitchen. She strode toward the mess and then saw the food strewn across the floor.
Richard stepped in and explained. "Chef… Aya lost her balance and stumbled. She bumped into Juniper, and well… that knocked the tray."
Aya quickly moved and crouched beside Juniper. "Juniper! Are you okay? Did you burn your hands?!"
Juniper gave her a nervous chuckle, wincing faintly as she tried to flex her fingers. "I'm fine, Aya. Just a little sting, nothing bad."
Aya's stomach twisted tighter. She then turned back to Chef Tulliver. "C-Chef… I'm so sorry! I'll clean it up right away, then I'll get back to my station!" Her words tumbled too fast. She was nearly breathless from panic. "I just… I don't know what happened, I've been feeling… dizzy. But it won't happen again, I promise, I'll—".
"Aya, that's enough."
"Huh…?"
The hedgehog-folk's voice clearly carried no anger. But to Aya, she sounded terrifying.
"If you're feeling unwell, then I think it's best you take the rest of the night off."
"W-wait, Chef, I can still try to catch up! I'll help Juniper too, so she won't fall behind!"
But Chef Tulliver lifted a hand, stopping her cold. "Aya. We can't risk any more delays, not tonight. You need to rest."
"But Chef Tulliver! I…"
"It's clear from your face you're not well. This pace is overwhelming even for seasoned chefs. I won't have you pushing yourself past your limit and making it worse. Someone else will cover your station. You'll rest. That's an order."
Aya's eyes widened further, her throat tight as she stared at the floor, her fingers trembling. "Rest…? But… I can't just leave them…"
Through her panic, Ciela stepped up beside her and rested a hand against Aya's shoulder. "Aya, go get some fresh air. Drink some water. If you need medicine, the reception desk can help bring you to the infirmary."
"I… but I want to…" Aya's words trailed as her eyes swept the room. Some of her teammates and the other kitchen staff looked her way with worry. But the others… looked disappointed in her.
Aya's chest tightened at the sight, and tears welled despite her blinking them back.
"I'm… sorry for the trouble I've caused."
Before anyone could respond, she tore off her apron and rushed toward the wide kitchen doors.
Richard could only stare at the door as he mumbled out of worry. "…Aya…"
"Enough gawking," Chef Tulliver said with a clap of her hands. "What a mess. We're behind now. Richard, Juniper, clean the floor and salvage what you can. Then back to the dishes. Hurry!"
"Yes, Chef!" Richard and the rest of the kitchen chorused. Immediately, they resumed with their duties to recover from the setback.
Out in the well-lit gardens, Raveena wandered alone. Balanced in her hand was a plate far too large for one person. The plate held a generous assortment of food. And in her other hand, she carried a pitcher filled with cold water.
Earlier, since Professor Vask went to dine with the other delegates in their own dining hall, Raveena had to find her own place among the dining halls that were meant for guests. She tried to find her place, yes. But the sight of crowded tables and strangers chatting in the hall repelled her.
No, thank you.
Instead, she flagged down one server and asked if she could have her share of the available courses brought together on a single plate, and a pitcher of water.
The poor server looked confused by her request, but since servers were obligated to honor dining related requests, the server had no choice but to comply. When he returned a few minutes later, he was huffing slightly as he presented to Raveena a heavy plate loaded with meats, breads, vegetables, and sauces all crammed together, plus the requested water.
Now, at last, she had what she wanted: food without the conversation.
In the gardens, she found a stone bench tucked beneath a tree with hanging lanterns, the perfect spot. With a relieved sigh, she set the plate down on her lap and the pitcher beside her.
Here, at least she could eat in peace.
The spread on her plate was almost absurd. She could see roasted meats nestled against buttered greens, a wedge of bread soaking up stray sauce, and even a handful of poached vegetables.
She hadn't bothered to wait for the dessert course. Sweets had never been her thing.
Besides… she had Aya for that.
With the bunny around, sugary treats seemed inevitable anyway.
Satisfied with the sight of her makeshift feast, Raveena slipped off her formal jacket, folded it, and set it just past the pitcher before preparing for her first bite.
But just as she lifted her fork, she heard something faint.
Sniff.
…Squeak.
Her ears twitched as she picked up the sound. She looked around, scanning the hedges, the bushes, and the far paths. She found nothing.
After a few seconds of silence, she frowned. "Probably just hearing things."
But then, just as she speared a piece of meat and raised it to her mouth—
Sniff.
Squeak…
Raveena's tail swished in annoyance. "Oh, come on…" she muttered under her breath.
Of all the places in the Summit grounds to eat quietly, she'd somehow found the one corner haunted by sniffles.
She looked around again, this time much harder. But alas, she still couldn't find anything.
Sniff.
Squeak!
"Okay, that does it."
With a sigh, Raveena set her plate carefully on the bench beside her jacket and stood, scanning the shadows more closely this time. She circled one path, then another, yet found no one.
"Whoever it is, clearly they don't want to be found."
She was about to sit when the sound came once more. It sounded much closer this time, like it was right beneath her.
Her ears tilted forward. Then slowly, she crouched and peered into the space under the stone bench.
Her eyes widened.
Curled in a loaf sat a small white dwarf rabbit with one pink ribbon tied on one ear, its fur glinting faintly. Its eyes were wet, its nose twitching rapidly as it sniffled, letting out tiny squeaks like broken sobs.
Raveena inhaled softly to take in the rabbit's scent, and without a doubt, she called out.
"Aya… is that you?"
The little rabbit turned its head at the sound of her voice, one damp eye meeting Raveena's.
"What are you doing here?" Raveena asked gently. "Are you… okay?"
No answer came, of course. Instead, the rabbit inched forward, tiny nose twitching with cautious sniffs, until it pressed softly against Raveena's knee.
Raveena stiffened for a moment, unsure what to make of it. Then slowly, she reached down and scooped the trembling bundle of fur into her hands.
Aya didn't resist. She simply nestled in closer, her little head nudging into Raveena's palm, ears drooping against her fingers as if clinging to whatever warmth she could find.
"Aya… what's wrong?" Raveena asked again with a gentler voice. But the rabbit only buried its face further into Raveena's hand in response.
Raveena sighed. She wasn't a mind reader, and she wasn't exactly familiar with a rabbit's body language.
"Aya, I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong. Can you… turn back first so we can talk?"
For a moment, the rabbit stayed still. Then, as if her words reached through, a puff of silvery smoke burst outward in a startling rush.
"Ack!" Raveena coughed, shutting her eyes against the haze.
And then—whump.
A sudden weight crashed down onto her chest, knocking her backward. She stumbled onto the grass, landing flat on her back with a muffled grunt.
By the time the smoke cleared, her eyes fluttered open to the sight of Aya, who was now back in her normal form. Surprisingly, unlike last time, her clothes were intact. The rabbit-folk pressed her tear-streaked face into Raveena's shirt, crying out between her sobs.
"Raveena…! Raveena…!"
Completely surprised, Raveena could only stare at the top of Aya's head. "Well… so much for dinner. Roast beef can wait."
Slowly and hesitantly, she lifted a hand and placed it atop Aya's head, brushing gently between the trembling rabbit ears.
"Hey… why are you crying?"
Aya hiccupped against her chest, trying to form words, but everything came out fractured between sobs.
"I… I… d-disappoint… ment. Messed up… th-they…"
Raveena frowned as she caught just enough of what Aya was trying to say.
"Disappointment."
"Messed up."
Then her eyes fell on Aya's hand, trembling against her shirt. She noticed a strip of cloth wrapped clumsily around one finger.
"…Did something happen in the kitchen?" Raveena asked.
Through her sobs and tremors, Aya answered with the smallest nod.
"You… messed something up?"
Aya nodded again, burying her face deeper into Raveena's chest.
With a sigh, Raveena brushed her hand down Aya's back. "Alright. You should drink some water first. Calm down."
Effortlessly, she slipped her arms under Aya, lifting her as though she weighed next to nothing. Aya, though briefly startled, continued to cling to Raveena. Raveena carried her over to the stone bench and gently sat her down beside the piled plate of food and the pitcher of water.
Aya immediately brought her hands up, covering her tear-streaked face as more fresh sobs shook her.
Raveena crouched low in front of her, taking one of Aya's trembling hands and coaxing it gently away. With her other hand, she brushed the tears from Aya's cheeks.
And in that moment, their eyes met.
Startled, Aya panicked and snatched her hand back. "D-don't… don't look at me!" she cried, burying her face back into her palms.
Raveena's eyes widened as she saw Aya's face for a moment there. And that look on her… it felt familiar.
Before she even realized it, her hands were moving on their own. She slid the pitcher of water and the piled plate of food aside. Then, without another thought, she drew both arms around the rabbit-folk's head and shoulders, pulling Aya against her as she eased onto the bench to sit by her side.
Aya didn't flinch, didn't even react much, perhaps too lost in her emotions to notice. But whatever the reason, Raveena simply held her, brushing her hand through the strands of Aya's hair.
She wasn't any good at this.
She never had been. She'd never dared to try comforting anyone except her mother, once. And even then, she'd been clumsy and nowhere near gentle enough.
So now she did the only thing she could: she tried to mirror what her mother had once been to her.
Gently, she spoke in a lowered voice. "Hey, please don't cry… I'm here. We can talk about it. Just… don't cry."
Her palm continued to linger over one of Aya's drooped ears as she stroked it gently.
"I don't know what happened. But I'll be here."
And in that moment, she realized something. For a while now, she'd found it strange how this rabbit-folk girl could stir such odd, unfamiliar feelings in her. Feelings she didn't quite know how to name.
But as she held Aya close, she was certain about one thing.
"This feeling. It's… surprisingly warm."