Peacetime Ennui
by Samantha Label
email: webmistress@absoludicrous.net
© 2005

This story takes place in that small gap between the end of Suikoden IV and the beginning of Rhapsodia. It was originally written as a Secret Santa gift for akatokuro at LiveJournal.

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It's funny, the things that sound like good ideas when you're bored.

Will was dreadfully bored. In fact, he could barely remember the last time he wasn't. Months upon months of patrolling the same bare expanse of sea to the west of the Kingdom of Obel. Will very much appreciated Lino's offering him something to do, but he couldn't imagine anything duller than ambling around H.M.S. Flare (Lino should not be allowed to name ships, Will thought) for even one more day, especially when every last member of his crew was now turning him down flat for a quick game of Ritapon. And it's not exactly a game you can play alone.

"That's it," he said aloud, pounding his fist on the railing. "Time for some excitement."

The nearby deckhands merely shrugged and went back to work. He saved Obel and the rest of the Island Nations from destruction. He was allowed to be eccentric and talk to himself.

~***~

The problem with Will's snap decision was that it couldn't be carried out in a snappy manner. The journey north was long and nearly as boring as those mind-numbing sea patrols. And with everyone else on the ship turning around and walking the other way every time they saw him coming with his box of Ritapon tiles under his arm, Will had little to do but lie on the bed in his cabin and second-guess what he had thought at the time was a great idea.

It should be fun, said one voice in his head. It's been ages.

Maybe there's a good reason for that, came another voice. What's that saying? 'Friendships have a lifespan'?

There’s no reason to be so cynical--

There is if you're so desperately lonely that you travel halfway across the sea at the drop of a hat just to find someone to play Ritapon with you--

"Shut up, already! God!"

It's probably a good thing that Will was in his cabin at this time, or the crew would have had to add "hearing voices" to the already extensive list of their captain's mental oddities.

~***~

In a small second-floor apartment in Razril, meanwhile, Snowe Vingerhut was also nearly out of his head with boredom. From his vantage point, lying sideways in his favorite leather club chair, legs dangling over the armrest, he scanned the living room for something, anything, to do. Every surface was impeccable and free of dust. His laundry was neatly folded and put away. A small bookcase opposite his chair was full of novels (shelved alphabetically by author) he'd read too many times to count. His one companion in the household, a potted philodendron he had, on a whim, named Fran, was well watered and bathing in the patch of sunlight beneath the window.

If anything, being stuck in the house every day had turned Snowe into a meticulous housekeeper.

Snowe was just about to give in, grab one of his tattered novels and draw a bath, when he heard a rapid knock on his front door. "Probably Jewel," he said to Fran, who, for her part, did not respond. "Though I couldn't hear her singing from halfway down the stairs..." But his visitor was, Snowe saw when he opened the door, most definitely not bouncing, grinning Jewel.

Standing in the doorway, looking like he was half-hoping he was at the wrong house, was Will. The silence between them was so heavy Will could hear Snowe blink.

"Hi," said Will. Snowe noted the presence of his old friend's customary frown.

"...Hi."

More uncomfortable silence.

After a moment, Snowe gathered himself. "Well, come in...I'll make tea."

~***~

As Snowe busied himself in his small kitchen with the tea, Will sat, a little too straight-backed, in the chair Snowe had just been occupying. After several months mostly at sea, the nearly creepy neatness of Snowe's home was more than a little off-putting. Does he even live here?

The heels of Snowe's too-shiny shoes clicked on the hardwood floors as he returned, carrying a laden tea tray. The pot, cups, saucers, the creamer and the sugar bowl were bone china, all patterned with matching pink and yellow flowers. Will, with some difficulty, managed to suppress a smirk. The Vingerhut tea service, he mused. Grandmother's treasure.

Snowe carefully set down the tray on the table and seated himself on the sofa opposite Will. After he had filled the two cups--cream and two lumps of sugar for himself, one lump for Will--he settled back onto the sofa and gazed at Will expectantly.

Will took his tea and sipped. He had enough time to register that Snowe actually remembered how he liked his tea--How could he? He never made tea back then--before he noticed Snowe staring at him.

"What?"

"Well..." He took a sip of his own tea. "I was just curious why you're here."

"Why?"

"...Yes, why. We haven't seen each other in almost a year. And given everything...well...I didn't think I would see you again, ever. Yet here you are. So what's happened?"

"Nothing."

"So there is no emergency? No reason you need to talk to me?"

"No."

"You're not...dying, are you?"

"No."

Some of the cold arrogance Snowe had mostly lost in the last year or so began to creep into his voice. "So what you're saying is that you are here for the pleasure of my company."

Will screwed up his face in his best death glare.

"It's just..."

"What?"

"I'm...bored. Really bored."

To Will, it seemed like Snowe actually deflated a little. But then, he muttered, "I am, too."

Neither one said anything for several moments. Snowe became very interested in the bottom of his teacup.

Will cleared his throat. "I've...got some Ritapon tiles in the ship."

~***~

They'd been at it for hours.

"One more game," the loser would say after every game. And the winner never objected.

As the time passed the tension in the room seemed to lessen. The conversation between them gradually shifted to something more complex than monosyllabic muttering. And along with that--and Ritapon's tendency to bring out the worst in people--came the trash talking.

"So what have you been doing all this time? Dusting your furniture, from the look of it."

"Funny. Jewel comes by sometimes. We...we go shopping." He blushed.

"Shopping? Is Jewel helping you pick out new dresses? Something to match your eyes? Reach."

"Hey, you're my size. If you want to borrow one of them just ask. Ooh, lightning tile..."

"Screw you and your lightning tile. Maybe Jewel can buy you some pretty matching lightning earrings, Princess."

"If you actually want to know, she helps me with my groceries. That kind of thing. If she's there...you know...they'll sell to her."

"You mean they haven't given back your Emperor of Razril crown yet? I'm stunned."

"Hey, now. You know perfectly well that Katarina's decree is the only thing keeping me from being chased out of town by a lynch mob like Father was."

"When was the last time you left this house? Alone, I mean. Without Jewel babysitting you."

Snowe frowned, looked at his feet, at his tiles, anywhere but at Will.

"You need to get out for a while." Will thought for a moment, tapping his fingers on the table. "I know a place."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You want to go?"

"Sure...yes, I'll go," Snowe said, lifting his gaze from the floor. "But Will, there's one thing..."

"What?"

"Tsumo."

"...Ass."

~***~

It was well past midnight when Will and Snowe finished their several "last" rematches of Ritapon and left Snowe's apartment. After Snowe convinced a Knight of Gaien on night watch to pass on a note to Jewel ("Leaving for a few days, please take care of Franny -- Snowe"), and once Will had dragged his crew members out of the tavern, the boys boarded the H.M.S. Flare and soon it was pulling out of the harbor.

Will immediately ambled below decks in search of his bed--all his yelling at Snowe about "cheating" at Ritapon had worn him out. But it seemed to make him feel better about losing, so Snowe let him have at it. Snowe, though, remained on the deck. He seated himself on the deck at the stern of the ship and leaned against the balustrade. He had no idea where they were going--he hadn't asked and Will hadn't volunteered the information--but he was headed out to sea, under a clear night sky with a salty breeze in his face. And he realized how much he had missed it.

Snowe smiled, closing his eyes against the wind. There's a lot I've missed, really.

The deckhands left their captain's friend alone with his thoughts. They had no idea why Will had ordered them all the way to Razril just to pick up a man in a frilly white blouse, but they did appreciate the brief shore leave.

~***~

Two days later the ship arrived at a small island with a crescent-shaped, sandy white beach. The place looked, to Snowe's eyes, to be entirely uninhabited. Will had disappeared below decks a moment before, and now he re-emerged, grinning, arms loaded with a basket and two fishing poles. He thrust one of the poles at Snowe.

"We...we just traveled for two days to go fishing?" It was more amazement than anger.

"It’s a good spot," Will replied. His expression clearly said, You just don't understand about these things. Will had obviously adopted this look after seeing it on Snowe's face so many times in the past.

"Oh, by the way," Will said, "we'll need some bait. There should be some good earthworms up on that hill over there. I'd take off those shoes, though. Don't want to get them dirty." He walked away toward the dinghy to take them to land, and Snowe could swear he heard him giggling.

Really, Snowe thought. He could at least try to hide how much he's enjoying this.

~***~

A short while later, Will and Snowe were sitting, not quite back-to-back, on a small spot of beach on a rocky peninsula jutting out into the water. Snowe's bare feet were muddy, his shirt was basically ruined and he'd had to roll up the cuffs of his pants over his calves, but Will was amazed with his lack of whining about it. Will could swear that he was almost enjoying himself.

"So how was it, digging up those worms? You got some good ones." Will had spent the time Snowe was gone threading the hooks onto their lines. Slowly.

Snowe inclined his head back toward Will so the other boy could see his sunny smile. "A bit squelchy at first, but I had fun. It's been so long since I've been able to get dirty."

"Snowe. You don't like getting dirty."

His smile didn't flicker. "I think I do now." In fact, he was quite determined to be cheerful, so Will wouldn't have the satisfaction of hearing him complain.

The boys sat with their lines cast in opposite directions for some time without so much as a nibble. Whatever Will said about this being a "good spot," it seemed the fish were actively avoiding them.

After the first half hour or so, a large turtle that had been meandering about the beach near the dinghy plodded over to them. Actually, it had been following them since they arrived--it just took a little longer for it to make the walk. It seated itself a couple inches behind Will and pushed its head into the small of his back, in an unmistakable nuzzling gesture. Absentmindedly, Will reached behind his back and patted the turtle on the shell. Snowe thought it would be better not to ask.

It had not escaped Snowe that this was not just some island Will came to for fishing. If it was, Will had a pretty funny idea of good fishing, considering it had been nearly two hours and they hadn't caught one fish between them.

"This place..." Snowe said, hesitantly. He knew Will would not want to talk about it, but he had to say something. "This is where you were shipwrecked...right?"

"...Yeah."

"Jewel told me about it. I think she said something about it being a 'low point' for you."

"Jewel talks too much."

Snowe couldn't argue with that.

"But...Will..." he continued, "why did you want to come here?"

Will sighed. He could almost physically feel the strain on his patience. "Fishing."

"Okay," said Snowe, reeling in and recasting his line, a little angrily. "Fine. So you show up at my door, after a year of not caring to pop in and say hello, and now we just happen to be on the island where you ended up stranded and the best friend of a turtle because of what I did to you. But we're fishing. Sure. I can accept that, given all the fish we're catching." He glared out at the water. Will's turtle friend, meanwhile, inched over to Snowe and leaned against his left leg, as if to calm him down.

Snowe was prepared for Will to shout back at him, or even to stop talking to him at all, but what he did not expect was for Will to burst out laughing. Even the turtle looked up in surprise.

"So...let me make sure I've got this right," he said, giggling so hard he was having a little trouble breathing. "You think...I brought you fishing...that I traveled for days to Razril, and then for days back out here...to give you a guilt trip?" He was wheezing by now.

"Well..."

"Believe it or not, Snowe...I just wanted to fish with my prissy old friend. I come here by myself, to fish, all the time."

Snowe said nothing. His face was burning.

"So...if you feel guilty, that's fine. I'm going to fish."

"Of course...I mean...I do..." After all this time, it was still nearly impossible for him to say it.

Will nodded, and recast his line. As hard as it was for Snowe to say it, Will didn't really need to hear it.

~***~

They never did catch any fish. Snowe stopped bringing this up after a while, out of fear that Will might chuck all their fishing equipment into the sea if he was reminded of it again. By sunset, as they were pulling their lines out of the water for the last time, the turtle had inexplicably grown attached to Snowe, and had to be removed from Snowe's lap when the boys stood up. (Crawling into Snowe's lap had take it at least the better part of an hour.) At this, the turtle had latched its beak-like jaw onto the laced sleeve of Snowe's blouse and had refused to let go. Will shrugged, muttering, "He gets like that," and coaxed the creature into releasing Snowe from his grip. They picked up their things and began to walk back to the boat, leaving the turtle staring (forlornly, Snowe was sure) after them.

"He seems sad that we're leaving," Snowe murmured.

"He's a turtle, Snowe."

"A lonely turtle."

Will grimaced. Oh God, it's like that time with the kittens in the alleyway.

"I could build him a sandbox. With a pond. And he can eat vegetables from the market."

Will started walking again. But over his shoulder, he called back, "Come on. Get your turtle and let's go."

Snowe grinned. Of course, he'd have to move Fran from the floor so she wouldn't get eaten, but he had a feeling she wouldn't mind, if it meant more company in the house.