The week following Sakura and Eunbi’s amusement park outing is slow and tortuous for Sakura. Perhaps it is because she had missed out on a lot of meetings and paperwork by taking the day off, but her workload is nearly doubled and she finds herself either in meetings, preparing for meetings, reading briefings, doing research for government proposals and projects from early in the morning when it is still dark to well into the night. Still, Sakura cannot bring herself to regret taking the day off, and she finds her mind drifting back to the memory of the day when she lets her guard down.   The black cat-eared snapback she bought on that day hangs on a hook in her study, and she finds herself staring at it between skype meetings on this particular day. Sakura is surprised by the odd ache in her chest that she feels as she gazes at it. It’s not that the hat makes her particularly emotional or anything absurd like that. It’s just that… she hasn’t seen Eunbi in nearly a full week. Eunbi has been almost as swamped as Sakura is as her coronation looms closer, filled with meetings with diplomats, lessons, preparations. Eunbi has hardly been at home and Sakura has practically been confined to her study for nearly a week now.   It’s almost like they’ve gone back to before, where Eunbi would sneak around the house to avoid her and Sakura would feel strangely disappointed when she came home to a dining table with a meal set on it but no one to accompany her. Sakura… wants to see Eunbi. So badly it scares her because she should not be feeling a longing this intense for someone who has just barely started to consider her a friend.   Sakura is distracted from her disconcerting thoughts by her phone ringing - the caller ID reads ‘Bad News Probably’ and an image of a displeased Sashihara glares up at her from the screen. Reluctantly, she answers it, because she has been waiting for this call all week.   “Your Highness.” The sounds of Sashihara’s chilled voice can be heared from the other side of the line. When she was younger, Sakura had thought Sashihara to be a robot, built purely to keep her father’s affairs in order. Now that she is older, she still thinks her to be a robot but is not silly enough to voice her theories aloud. “You requested that I call with the outcome of my discussions with your father.” Sashihara informs her.   Suddenly is dry, and nerves that she has managed to stave off with business and thoughts of Eunbi plague her in full force. Sakura leans forward, pressing her weight into her elbows in an attempt to still the sudden tremor in her hands.   “I did.” She says, proud that she manages to keep her tone even and professional when addressing Sashihara. “And the outcome?”   There is a beat of silence on the other line. Sashihara hesitates to respond, and so for a moment Sakura worries that her programming has malfunctioned.   “He refused.” Sashihara says. Her voice is clipped and robotic as always, but if Sakura listens very hard past the sudden roaring in her ears, there is something that may resemble sympathy in her tone. “I’m very sorry Sakura, I know this was important to you.”   Sakura can count on one hand the number of times Sashihara has referred to her as something other than her royal title requires. It always accompanies bad news and this is no exception.   “How can he refuse?” Sakura asks, and this time she is not able to keep the crack out of her voice. She clenches her fists, trying to keep her breathing even as the tremors in her hands worsen. “It’s her one year anniversary. Does he want to act like my mother never existed?”   “I do not pretend to understand your father in any capacity, Sakura,” Sashihara begins. “But I imagine if you paused for a moment and tried to sympathise with him, you may realise that this is his way of coping.”   Sakura rarely gets angry, and is often complimented on her gentle temperament and cool head, but Sashihara’s words generate such a thick and ugly rage that she pelts her phone across the room. The screen cracks on impact and the phone slides down the wall, glinting sadly back at her. She instantly regrets her actions as the screen blinks black to signal Sashihara has hung up.   Sakura slumps back into her seat and buries her head in her arms, just focusing on trying to breath evenly for a moment and not let her inhales escalate into choked sobs.   When that fails, Sakura gets to her feet, deciding that finishing the information pack from the Minister of Town Planning and Environmental Management can wait. A warm drink and something sweet is what she needs. She grabs her now-cracked phone and wonders out of her study.   The corridor outside her study is very open, filled with windows that allow the warm sunlight to peek in and warm the area. Sakura closes her eyes and she passes through, allowing the warmth to sink into her skin. She didn’t realise how cold she felt until she felt the warm glow.   Sakura does not know what she expected to see upon entering the kitchen, particularly since she did not know Eunbi was home and as far as she knew the kitchen staff didn’t come in to start preparing dinner until closer to 3 o’clock and it is currently just past lunch time.   So when Sakura enters the kitchen only to hear a sudden, startled screech and finds herself engulfed in an explosive cloud of white, she is understandably taken aback. Sakura coughs, blinking wildly as she registers that she is currently involved in the flour explosion of the century. Is she dead? She’s not sure. It takes a few moments of hacking her lungs out and trying to clear the flour from her eyes for the dust to settle before Eunbi appears in front of her, completely white. Sakura imagines she looks similarly coated in flour.   For a moment they just blink stupidly at each other - Eunbi still grips the exploded and now empty bag of flour in her hands and the flour begins to settle in soft white piles across the previously pristine kitchen tiles.   Sakura can’t help it then - the startled look on her face, the way Eunbi blinks her beautiful eyes at her and flour clings to her lashes and coats her face, and just the sheer relief of seeing Eunbi again after a whole week just gets to her. Sakura cracks up, crumpling to the ground with the sheer force of her laughter.   When Sakura finally calms down enough and wipes the tears that have pooled at the corner of her eyes, Eunbi glares at her; head to toe still coated in flour. Eunbi's arms are crossed and she looks unimpressed.   “Are you done yet?” Eunbi asks, clearly offended by her laughter. Sakura feels a brief flash of guilt, but it is mixed with amusement and a fondness so fierce it nearly knocks her off her feet.   “Almost.” Sakura responds, getting to her feet and approaching Eunbi. When Eunbi does not move or flinch away, Sakura takes that as her invitation to begin dusting the flour out of Eunbi's hair and shoulders. “What were you doing?”   There is a short moment, when Eunbi blinks up at her with flour-y lashes and her cheeks slightly flushed behind the thin coat of white; Sakura's lungs begin to constrict and she is overwhelmed by the endearing expression on Eunbi's face. Sakura steps away and begins to look around, taking in the mixing bowls, the flour, the baking trays, trying to ease the tension from her lungs.   “Well...” Eunbi begins as she picks up a bowl of some sort of sweet-smelling batter to examine it. “There’s this holiday, back home, in my Kingdom.” She says. “And there’s this tradition, where we make these little sticky honey cakes.”   Sakura blinks, turning back to Eunbi once the odd breathlessness has passed. She leans against the counter, and her gaze is focused at a point just over Eunbi's shoulder, like she’s avoiding eye contact.   “I couldn’t make it back home in time, because I have coronation rehearsals all day tomorrow, so I thought I’d try and make some anyway…” She trails away, and Sakura feels her expression soften. “Anyway, I better start cleaning up-“   “I’ll help.” Sakura says quickly, cutting her off. “Let’s make them together.”   Eunbi gapes at her, dropping open, before her face turns bright red. Then Eunbi offers this tentative smile that probably shaves ten years off of Sakura's lifespan with the way it messes with her heartbeat.   Thus begins the process of cleaning and baking and laughing together, and Sakura begins to feel a stiffness and tension she had been holding into to her muscles unwind. Like Eunbi has lifted a weight off her shoulder just with her presence, her smile and her beautiful eyes. It is truly a wonder to see Eunbi in her element - apart from the flour mishap which had occurred because Sakura had startled her, she is at home in the kitchen since her parents were bakers. She works batter like a pro and moves with an ease and comfort that Sakura can’t help but admire.   Eunbi is sharper than Sakura realises though.   “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” Eunbi questions as she carefully folds honey through the batter. Sakura pauses as she is washing strawberries.   “You noticed, huh?” Sakura says quietly, and she feels the weight of Eunbi's sharp gaze on her back.   Sakura feels a warm touch on her shoulder, and flinches, turning to find Eunbi far closer than she had realised. She examines Sakura's expression in that searching way she does, like she is trying to find something in Sakura's gaze, and her eyes soften just the slightest bit.   “Sakura...” Eunbi says softly, gently. “Talk to me.”   Sakura glances down, unable to deal with the weight of that gentle, expectant gaze a moment longer.   Eunbi reaches forward and turns off the tap, taking the bowl of strawberries in Sakura's hands and setting it down on the counter. Then she leans against it and she just… waits. Eunbi just watches her, not in a forceful way but in a way that let Sakura know she’s probably going to have to tell Eunbi.   “My mother… her anniversary is coming up.” Sakura admits. Eunbi nods, her gaze softening. “And I wanted to hold a memorial or something, but my father… he refused.”   Silence follows and when Sakura gathers the courage to shoot a tentative look at Eunbi’s face, she has the most heartbreaking look in her eyes. It makes Sakura feel like there is a stone lodged at the back of .   “Sakura.” Eunbi says slowly. Sakura breathes out a laugh that sounds painful and doesn’t hold an ounce of humour in it.   “It’s fine. I’m fine.” Sakura says firmly. Eunbi does look convinced and opens , but Sakura cuts her off. “Let’s just finish this Eunbi. Don’t stress about it - I’ve dealt with far worse than this.”   “No, don’t be silly! This is a big deal. Maybe we should try talking to him again?” Eunbi protests. Sakura is quick to shoot her down.   “You don’t know her, Eun - he’ll be rude and cold and then kick us out. He’s incapable of listening.” Sakura says, surprised at how much bitterness leeches into her tone. Eunbi looks taken aback as well, and she looks like she’s choosing her next words carefully.   “Why don’t we-“ She begins, but Sakura cuts her off.   “Forget it, Eunbi. It’s really not a big deal and I’m the stupid one for getting upset over it.” Sakura says. Eunbi looks absolutely horrified.   “You’re not, Sakura-“ Is her attempt at a protest, but Sakura is unwilling to discuss the subject any further. It just hurts too much. Like she’s poking repeatedly at an opened wound- the conversation is done, finished, and telling Eunbi won’t fix it and fighting it some more will just lead to more disappointment. It’s easier to just drop the matter and focus on finishing the sticky honey cakes. That’s how she’s gotten by up until now and it’s how she’ll continue to get by because her father is incapable of thinking about what anyone wants but herself.   Eunbi looks like she’s not finished, and opens, but she seems to think better of it, turning back to her mixing bowl. For the moment, it seems, she has dropped it.       ***************       If Sakura knew Eunbi better, she would probably have figured out that Eunbi had not in fact, dropped the matter. But the fact of the matter is... she still does not know Eunbi as well as she would like, and so the matter has not actually been dropped. Perhaps she is just slow- she does not know how she has not picked up on Eunbi's tenacity before now.   “She definitely walked into your father’s office.” Yena informs her, on the other side of the line. “She went in right as I came out.”   Yena’s last words are drowned out past the sudden roaring in Sakura’s ears. She does not recall hanging up or even what she does with her phone past this revelation from Yena. All she knows is that she panics. Eunbi can not speak to her father - she cannot even allow them to be in the same room. Just the thought of Eunbi, warm and happy and sweet, surrounded by the icy, mustiness of that stupid study and the scent of lilies anywhere near her skin makes Sakura ill.   Sakura has her driver reroute to the Palace and messages Sashihara some rubbish excuse why she can’t meet with another puffed up diplomat from the Asgard Kingdom. She then proceeded to repeatedly dial Eunbi’s number, getting increasingly frustrated as she finds herself repeatedly not getting through.   Her stomac