Renovate my Heart
An Akagami no Shirayukihime (Snow White with the Red Hair) fanfic
The lady on aisle three looks lost.
Obi’s used to confusion, exhaustion, frustration, and plenty of other strong emotions from customers, but this one’s a first.
“Can I help you?”
The little red-haired whirls around and clutches a paint sample to her chest. “What?”
“You look like you’re having some trouble.”
“Oh. I guess so.” She frowns down at her paint chip. “I’m supposed to find something to match this, but . . .” She gestures to the colored strips lining the entire aisle. “I don’t know how to narrow it down.”
Obi rests an elbow on a paint can. “What, you don’t like spending hours staring at paint samples? I’m shocked.” She grins, and he is very glad business is slow today (or, well, normal for them) because he is free to help this woman as long as she needs.
“I’m more of a plant girl, actually.”
All he knows about plants is he’s very good at letting them die. “You should check out our garden department then.”
Excitement flares, then fades before he has the chance to enjoy the way it makes her eyes shine. “I don’t have time. I really need to get this paint and head back.”
“Right. Well, I’m not so good with paint colors myself, so we should probably call in a professional.”
“A professional?”
Obi steps back and stretches his hands behind his head. “Of course. Every self-respecting hardware store has a professional color-picker.”
The woman’s brow furrows, but her smile doesn’t fade as she follows him to the counter. He hits the intercom button (why his boss thought it was a good idea to give them that will forever remain a mystery) and says, “Yuzuri, come quick! We have a color emergency!”
“No, wait!” the lady protests. “It’s not an emergency–”
Yuzuri stops her, running in and shouting, “Did you say a color emergency?”
“It’s really not an emergency–” Yuzuri scoops up the lady’s hands, cutting off her words.
“What are you looking for? Something bold? Something elegant? Something subtle and unassuming?”
“Something white?” The lady pulls her hands out and offers up the paint sample. “That matches this?”
Yuzuri’s shoulders slump. “Sad.” She sighs, then straightens and inspects the paint sample, holding it close, then far, tilting it, and squinting up at it. “Hmm. I’ve got some ideas. Do you definitely want white, or drifting into ivory?”
“Not ivory. They specifically said not ivory.”
“Right.” Yuzuri hauls her back down the paint aisle. “Well, for a color like this, we need to stick to warm undertones, so–” The lady flashes Obi a panicked look, and he grins at her.
She eventually gets her paint, and Obi checks it out for her. “Come back soon,” he calls, and she waves.
It’s only after she leaves that he realizes he forgot to ask her name.
Obi nudges Yuzuri aside. “My turn.” There’s no one in the store for now, and they’re taking turns conducting the very important task of testing the intercom. He pushes the button, then breathes loudly into the microphone. “Luke, I am your father.”
Yuzuri shoves him. “Wow. Your Darth Vader voice is terrible. Let me try.” She leans closer to the microphone and drops her voice two octaves. “Luke, I am–oh hi!” The sudden change in pitch makes Obi wince, and he whirls around to see who she’s talking to.
The lady from two days ago is standing in front of them, too far from the door to have just walked in. “Um, what are you doing?”
“Uhh . . . we’re just . . .” He searches frantically for a way to make “playing with the intercom” sound cool, then gives it up as a lost cause. “Waiting for you. A customer, I mean, since there’s no one here . . .” Wow. He’s usually much better at this. “Do you need help with something?”
She smiles. “Yes please.”
He smiles back and ignores Yuzuri’s smirk beside him.
“Are you renovating the entire house?” Obi asks when the lady shows up for the fifth time. He’s certainly not complaining, but people usually don’t come to their store a second time, and certainly not a third.
She laughs. “Pretty much. I didn’t think there was much wrong with it in the first place, but I have to agree it looks nicer now. Or, it will once everything gets cleaned up.”
He leans his elbow on the counter and rests his chin in his hands. “So when do you get to start working on the garden?”
Red creeps up her face. He should not enjoy this so much. “Oh, that’s not, um, that’s not what we’re working on.”
“Ah, shame. I’d love to see whatever you came up with?”
Her blush grows deeper. “Would you really? I mean, I’ve got a little plot in front at home . . .” She reaches for her pocket, then hesitates.
“Of course!”
Yuzuri finds them later, laughing over pictures on her phone, long since moved on from the pictures of her own small garden to all the plants she wishes she could get. He’s never heard of half of them, but she finds pictures, and it’s clear she could talk about this for hours.
“If you’re not busy," Yuzuri says, far too innocently. “I need your help carrying bags of soil. We just got a new shipment.” She winks at the redhead. “Perks of having a strong coworker: he carries the heavy stuff, and I get to watch.”
A comment about how he didn’t know Yuzur enjoyed that so much dies on his tongue when he glances back at the lady and spots her beet-red face.
“O-oh.” she stammers. “I should probably go then. Let you, um, work.”
Obi can’t resist. He leans across the counter towards her and grins. “Oh, but Miss, you didn’t buy anything. Surely you came here for a reason. Or was it just to see me?”
Her shoulders bunch up around her ears and she stares at her feet. “No! I mean, I like seeing you, but I didn’t come just to, um . . .”
He laughs. “Relax. I’m just teasing.”
Yuzuri rolls her eyes and grabs the lady’s arm. “Come on. I’ll help you find what you need while he gets that soil.” She leans over and whispers something that makes the lady squeak and cover her mouth.
Arrive at your destination, Obi’s phone demands. He looks up at the three stories of unadulterated opulence masquerading as a five-bed, three-bath house, and he’s sure he put in the wrong address. He parks a little ways down the street (he’s not even touching the mile-long driveway in his beat-up truck for fear of being arrested for being too poor or something) and checks the address a second time. And a third.
Someone knocks on his window, and he jumps, then notices a familiar smiling face framed in red hair. He smiles back and opens the door.
“I’m glad to see you,” he says. “I was starting to think I had the wrong address.”
She glances up at the house. “Yeah, it’s a bit much, isn’t it?” He’s glad he’s not the only one who thinks so. She turns around, and her smile is blinding. “Thank you so much for driving this over. I know you probably don’t usually do deliveries like this, but everything’s gone completely wrong today, and I didn’t have time–”
Obi holds up a hand to stop her. “It’s no problem. Besides, we’ve got to do what we can to keep a customer like you around.”
Her brows draw together. “Because I come so often?”
Obi winks. “Of course. That’s exactly what I meant.”
She starts to say something, but Obi never learns what it is because someone calls, “Shirayuki!”
“Over here!” the lady calls, and another man appears, movie-star handsome and looking like exactly the kind of guy who’d own a house like this.
“Is this the order you put in today?” he asks, and the lady nods. He rakes a hand through his white-blond hair. “Good. We needed something to go right today.”
He turns to Obi and holds out his hand. “Zen,” he says. “Thanks for driving this over today.”
“Obi.” He shakes his hand. He doesn’t know why the air suddenly feels so hard to breathe in. “It was no problem.”
“Would you mind bringing it inside?” Zen asks. “I’ll send Mitsuhide and Kiki out help you.”
“Of course.”
“Great!” The man flashes a perfect smile. “They’ll be out in just a second. And Shirayuki, I need to talk to you about the cabinets.”
“Oh, right!” she squeaks. The pair walk inside, looking like they walked straight out of one of the romcoms Yuzuri loves so much, their heads bent together as they talk, his hand resting on her elbow, walking back to the house Obi couldn’t even afford to step on the floors of.
Something tightens in his chest, but he ignores it. He has work to do.
Yuzuri screams.
It’s the kind of scream that says broken bones, lots of blood, or a particularly frightening spider, and Obi’s already out of his seat and halfway across the room when she runs in.
“Look at this!” She shoves her phone in his face. He blinks at it a couple times to make it fade into focus.
It’s an article about some tv show. He pushes her hand aside. “You’re not dying?”
She rolls her eyes. “No. Just read the article. That’s the girl who keeps coming in here, right?”
He skims the article because he knows she won’t leave him alone until he does, but he doesn’t really pay attention until he reaches the photo.
A familiar couple smiles up at him, red hair and white. Zen poses in front of a house, million-dollar smile on full display as though he’s done this all his life. The lady stands next to him, not nearly so comfortable, but the smile on her face looks genuine. He scrolls back up to the headline. Wisteria Family Starts Up New HGTV Show–
“HGTV, that’s the channel where they renovate houses and stuff, right?” Obi asks.
Yuzuri takes her phone back. “Do you actually, like, live under a rock? Answer honestly.”
He gestures around the store. “I do this for work all day. Why would I want to go home and watch that in my free time?”
“Fine. Whatever. Yes, it’s where they ‘renovate houses and stuff’.”
It makes sense, now that he thinks about it. Whenever the lady had come in, she had always talked about “their” preferences, and he had never asked who “they” were. He had assumed the house was hers, or hers and her boyfriend’s, but she didn’t like it. She had even shown him pictures of her own garden, which he’s pretty sure would be considered heresy to the goddess of suburban housewives.
But then . . .
“So are those two dating? Since they started a show together?” Yuzuri’s smug look says he didn’t sound nearly as casual as he wanted to.
“Oh, so is that why you’ve been sulking lately?” she asks.
“I haven’t been sulking!”
“Yes you have, and, according to the internet, they’re not dating.”
“Right, and the internet is such a trustworthy source.”
She rolls her eyes. “Why’d you ask if you didn’t want the answer? Also I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t keep coming in and giving you that look if she was dating someone else.” Somehow, Yuzuri can make tucking her phone into her pocket look sassy.
“Wait, what look?”
She pretends to check the time on her bare wrist. “Well, I better get back to work.”
He follows her back to the garden department. “What look?"
The lady doesn’t come again for a long time.
Which is fine. She’s probably finished with that house and moved on. Or finally decided to switch to a different hardware store. Either way, it* doesn’t matter*.
It’s not any of Obi’s business, and none of Yuzuri’s speculation will change that. He wishes the store were a little busier, though, if only to give him something else to think about.
The pen he’s flipping slips through his fingers and rolls under the counter. Grumbling, he crawls under the counter to get it.
The door opens. He got his wish.
“Hello?”
He sits up so fast he bangs his head into the counter. “Ow!"
A pair of shoes walk over, and then he’s staring into familiar green eyes. She tilts her head, and her short hair almost brushes the floor. “Are you alright?”
“Um,” he manages. He tries to wiggle out from under the counter and hits his shoulder, then his knee. Of course the one time in his life he’s actually clumsy would be now.
He manages to stand up behind the counter like a normal person who doesn’t spend their time climbing under furniture. She straightens too. He can’t think of anything to say.
She glances away and adjusts her purse strap. “I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just been too busy to come in lately.”
He can’t help but smile, and he’s glad Yuzuri isn’t there to watch him melting like a fool. “You know, most people don’t apologize for not going to a store. If you don’t need to buy something, there’s no reason to go.”
“I wanted to see you, though. I mean–both of you! I wanted to see both of you.”
He’s gone. He’s never going to get her out of his head. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. I wanted to see you too.”
“Oh.”
He steps around the counter. “So, Miss, you didn’t tell me you’re famous.”
She blinks several times quickly. “I’m not.”
He leans closer. “You’ve been on tv longer than five minutes. That’s more famous than most people.”
She frowns. “I’m still not–I just got lucky.”
“Still impressive. I look forward to watching you fix up that house I saw.”
She flushes to the roots of her hair. “It was boring really. The editors just make it so . . . dramatic. I’m glad it’s over, though.”
A movement over her shoulder catches his eye, and he spots Yuzuri watching them from the door. She waves her hand to say, “go on.” His mouth goes dry.
“So, um, does that mean you’re free tonight?”
She tucks her hair behind her ear. “Yes. Why?”
“Well, there’s this restaurant down the street, if you’re interested in going. For dinner.”
Her brows draw together and her head tilts. “A restaurant?” He should have known better than to believe Yuzuri about her liking him.
Yuzuri waves her arms wildly. When he glances over, she mouths, with you. He thought that part was obvious, but he knows Yuzuri won’t leave him alone if he doesn’t say it.
“With me. Go to the restaurant with me.”
Her face lights up, and, oh, he’s in deep. “Sure! That sounds nice.”
Oh. “Great! I can come meet you when I get off work, then.”
She shifts her purse strap again and smiles. “Or I could just stay here until then. Since I don’t have anything to do today.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that works too.”