Honey Garden

Chapter | 3

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CHAPTER
t h r e e

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"IT'S a good thing it still fits."

"I've only been gone for fifty years, Genkai."

"So? That's majority of a human's lifespan."

Against her better control, Lan couldn't detain the smile from pulling her lips, one equally mingled with mirth and guilt as she shook her head.

Instead of wasting a reply, she let her fingers skim over the soft material of the clothe hugging her frame, lingering over the gentle cinch around her waist with a thoughtful hum. At her side, Genkai followed her movements with her gaze, the latter's very own method of checking whether the garment needed to be adjusted or—if need be as the years suggest—be thrown away. Thankfully enough, not a flaw was detected underneath the pinkette's precise inspection. If anything, the garment merely appeared to be worn compared to Lan's sustained appearance.

By the end of her roaming gaze, Genkai caught sight of the playful, accusing smile Lan was so teasingly sporting over her shoulder.

"You specifically tended to this one." The statement was direct, almost confident, if Genkai didn't know her well enough.

"You favored this one over the others."

The smile grew into a grin and Lan had to duck her chin to resist acting foolish before her friend, silently scolding herself for suddenly reverting to her callow self. Even for just a quick second.

Personally, as the flinch of her lips entails, Genkai would have none of that timid action. Fifty years ago, it had taken her months to shovel through Lan's obscured emotions and insecurity, barreling down wall after wall just to uproot the real gem behind the profound confusion. As a result, the latter became utterly and—at times—painfully honest towards the psychic.

But for once, after half a century of separation, Genkai would let this one slide until the demoness situated herself here better once more.

Three days had gone by smoothly and within those days, Genkai had assisted Lan into settling back into her old room, situated just a few ways down her own. She had been smug, inwardly chuckling to herself the second Lan had slid open the shoji doors. A disregarded room would have been a quiet abode for filth and dust, which was what the latter had been expecting judging by the way her nose wrinkled in preparation. Only, when the room was revealed before her, it wasn't coated in filth and mildew.

To Lan's astonishment, it was kept in quality condition throughout the years. Aside from being a little too weathered along with the small changes (such as the subtle shift of the knickknacks decorating the room so it wouldn't be too bare), Genkai had made sure to clean the room at least once in a week or two during the past five decades. It gave her something to do other than her profession, and she treasured the memories that resided in that room. It was all she had for years.

It was enough to make Lan question her luck for having such a friend like Genkai all over again.

Now, Genkai brought out all of her old clothes. Reasonably lacking, of course. The pinkette had been explaining about throwing the others away with a ready apology when Lan stopped her—reaching out to grasp one of the two qipaos she had preferred the most. As stated, the garment in question received thorough care. Genkai had specifically tended that qipao with utmost care. Yes, she had tended to all of Lan's soft material clothing, but the deep blue garment had been one of the latter's favored one out of all.