and we do it again | Orufrey fic | Completed
Rating: PG-13 (Teens)
Relationships: Qifrey/Olruggio
Characters: Qifrey, Olruggio
Tags: Pre-canon, Unreliable Narrator, Elements of Greek Tragedy, Angst with Happy Ending
Summary:
“Then I’ll follow them with you. I don’t mind,”
“You never mind,”
“Because it’s you,” Olruggio stops the dance and holds Qifrey a bit tighter. “Because it’s you.”
Alternatively: Qifrey doesn't know how he can go through this again, and again, and again.
word count: 3523
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Witch Hat Atelier, or any of the related characters. The Witch Hat Atelier series is created by Shirahama Kamome and owned by Kodansha Ltd. This story is intended for entertainment purposes only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the Witch Hat Atelier series belong to Kodansha Ltd.
nulla.
Where a child of silver must suffer, the stars will weep.
Where the stars weep, come blessings and curses. They will give you fault and aid you when you are most desperate.
In a lone atelier, is a witch whose roots will cause him despair despite everything else. In a lone atelier, is a story that must never be forgotten, but will be forgotten in the end.
i.
It’s not unusual for adult witches to move in together for reasons aside from marriage.
But for Qifrey, moving in together makes him feel like he was a child again, under Master Beldaruit, not yet Sage Beldaruit, with a pen that didn’t fit his hand and shook under his touch as he drew an imperfect circle.
They work together to bring the atelier to something acceptable for apprentices to live in and work in. It’s hard work but every time Qifrey catches a glance of Olruggio, the world melts away to nothing. Just him and Olruggio.
His childhood friend.
His best friend.
His Watchful Eye.
…
Nonetheless, he’s grateful that Olruggio is there with him as he finds his footing as a teacher. It’s hard work with a thousand challenges. He himself was a student once and was a terrible headache to deal with. A rascal who disappeared for hours on end who couldn’t be disciplined no matter what his master said, or what his master didn’t say.
Qifrey smiles at the thought of dealing with his own troublesome students and picks up a box full of his clothes with a hum.
"You’re in a good mood,"
Qifrey nearly jumps at the voice, but fondness overrides his first reaction and he turns around to the sight of Olruggio, five shrunken boxes in his arms.
"Just recalling the past from my time as a student," Qifrey tells him.
"You mean your days as a troublemaker?" Olruggio asks, tone incredulous.
Qifrey laughs because it’s not untrue. The number of times his former master had to go after him to berate him was too much for him to count on two hands and more.
"It’s not like I won’t have to go through the same things Beldaruit did. I’m sure it will be exciting," Qifrey watches Olruggio’s expression turn into something less stern. "I just hope I actually get students soon."
Olruggio shifts the boxes one arm and places his hand on Qifrey’s shoulder. "Of course you will. You’ll get an application soon, I can feel it," he says. "And if you don’t, we could just steal some students away from other ateliers."
"That’s a terrible thing to suggest!" Qifrey pauses and ponders on Olruggio's words a moment more. "Did people try? To steal you from your master?"
It’s really no surprise considering how well known Olruggio was—is in the Great Hall. But to hear it from the man himself makes Qifrey think about how lucky he is to be chosen by his best friend.
"A few did try, actually. Although there’d be more if I counted the people who asked if I was satisfied with my master." Olruggio shrugs, removing his hand from Qifrey’s shoulder. "Anyways, I gotta get these to my atelier."
Qifrey almost laments over the loss of contact but he digresses. "Alright, see you for dinner." He turns to bring his clothes to his bedroom and ponders on his last words.
Back at the Great Hall, they had to schedule the times they could eat together, and the times it would happen was rare. Of course, Olruggio’s work as an inventor would inevitably get to him sooner or later, but it feels good to be able to say that.
See you for dinner.
Simple words, without having to offer dates, potential hours, locations.
No, all they had to do was to say, "see you for dinner," or knock on their door.
It makes him feel dizzy.
Qifrey arrives at his bedroom and packs his clothes away in his closet, suddenly feeling a tightness in his throat.
Years ago, he would never have imagined getting his own atelier with the chance to teach students of his own. He never even thought of getting a best friend. Yet here he was, with an atelier of his own with a friend, one knock away.
He adjusts his glasses and continues packing, a small and stupid smile on his face.
Things are seemingly starting to look up.
i.
The first student to arrive at his atelier is Agott.
Her application came in the mail and Qifrey’s first thought was that it must have been a mistake. But after reading through the application, he realized it wasn’t, and called Olruggio to celebrate his first student.
Agott is a good student. She works with a steady hand, keeps her composure, and listens well to Qifrey. She’s a perfect student.
It’s a problem.
She works with a steady hand because she practices late into the night; she keeps her composure because she’s afraid; she listens well because she wants to be a perfect student.
When he first accepted her into his atelier, he didn’t know of the circumstances of her departure from the Arkrome family and didn’t pry into it. It’s unfortunate, but when he went to the Great Hall to pick up Agott’s new robes, he overheard what happened.
He doesn’t believe that of course, but he knows that Agott’s affected by it anyway.
"I don’t know how to help her, Olly. I feel like if I push too much, she’ll end up exploding at me or worse, push me away. Maybe if there was a student her age here, she could at least open up to someone." Qifrey pours himself another drink and slouches against the wall. "This is harder than any test I took as an apprentice."
"You signed up for this, idiot." Olruggio’s face is already pink despite only having two cups of silvernectar wine. Maybe Qifrey should stop him but it’s always funny seeing him extremely hungover the next morning.
It’s a weekend, so there’s not much to do the next day. Qifrey only needs to prepare their meals and Olruggio just finished his commissions. So they decided to celebrate by cooking a delicious dinner and opening a bottle or two. A great relief since they hadn’t had the chance to open any since moving into the atelier.
"I thought my problems would be more of a student who wants to run outside and go home late and accidentally flood the atelier," Qifrey mumbles.
Olruggio laughs and Qifrey can see his wine slosh around his cup. "Not every student is like you, idiot. They’re their own people, you know," he says after calming down, tone serious. "You’re just going to have to deal with that. It’s your job to guide them and be there for them, even if they don’t want it."
"That’s terrible, Olly. PerhapsI shouldn’t have just taken the fifth test," Qifrey downs his cup in one go and he can feel his body warm up even more. "I’d be happy with just helping around, spreading happiness to the people, or something."
Olruggio sets his cup down on the floor and tries to get up before giving up and just crawling to where Qifrey is. He sets his head on Qifrey’s shoulder, unbeknownst to him that he just set his best friend’s heart racing off.
"You don’t mean that. You wanted to be a professor for a while now. Since we were kids, I think. Don’t worry about it, Agott will grow and she’ll find her footing with your guidance. You’re already a good teacher to her."
Qifrey looks at Olruggio, forgetting his embarrassment for a moment. "Olruggio…"
"You care about her, which is already the first step to being a good teacher. Don’t worry too hard about it, ‘kay? It’ll come to you sooner or later," Olruggio picks his head up from Qifrey’s shoulder and pokes him hard. "And if you need help, I’m here to help you."
Qifrey moves Olruggio’s hand away and lets his hand linger just one moment before he drops it back on his lap. "You don’t have to. You’re just my Watchful Eye," words out his mouth before he knows it. It’s incredibly stupid and he regrets it, even more, when he sees Olruggio’s face fall for just a moment.
"Idiot, I’m your best friend!" Olruggio exclaims, suddenly moving his face in front of Qifrey’s. From that view, Qifrey can see Olruggio’s eyelashes and how pink his lips are.
He’s fucked.
Before Qifrey can think about it more, Olruggio plows on. "Before anything else, I’m your friend, Qifrey. I’m here for you, no matter what," he says. And he does the thing Qifrey couldn’t do. He takes his hand and holds it. "You’re… you’re very important to me."
Qifrey knows it’s just the alcohol but he feels touched anyways. "Thank you, Olly," he says, squeezing his hand harder. "I appreciate it, I really do."
It’s a tender moment, and Qifrey feels something blossom in his chest, a sprout that could bloom into a flower so dainty and pure, unmarred by everything else.
Hope.
But Qifrey isn’t much of a fool, so he lets go of Olruggio’s hand and moves a fraction of an inch away. Doing so, his cup tilts over and falls victim to gravity. His cup is empty, there is nothing left to spill.
"We should clean up," Qifrey says. "It’s late and I still need to make breakfast for us all."
Looking dazed, Olruggio nods. "We should."
Qifrey stands first then offers his hand to Olruggio to help him up. He’s not disappointed when Olruggio takes his wrist.
Together, they clear the kitchen of their mess, ensuring no sign of two adults had a drink there would be left in the morning. It only takes five minutes with each other’s help, and they’re done.
Olruggio yawns and stretches his arms over his head. "Night, Qifrey. Let’s not do this again any time soon," he says, tone light.
"Next month?"
"Yeah, next month sounds good," Olruggio raises his hand and goes towards the direction of his atelier, leaving Qifrey alone in the kitchen.
With nothing left to do, Qifrey approaches the light carrier to extinguish the ball of light so he can go back to his own bedroom and sink under his covers.
As he extinguishes the light, he notices the light brings him a mild pain in his head.
Like a fool, he ignores the pain and heads back to his room, blissfully unaware of the unbecomings of time.
vii.
When Tetia arrives, the atelier bursts into bright pink.
She comes with a literal bang as she jumps from the window way and trips into Agott, and after a few apologies, she showers Qifrey with about a hundred thank you’s and maybe a thousand more when he thanks her back for choosing his atelier.
The days are simple and they all blend into one. He gets up, makes breakfast and lunch, eats with the two of them (or the three of them if he’s lucky), teaches them, eats lunch, does other errands and chores if there are any, prepares and takes dinner, wish the girls a good night’s rest and sleeps himself.
It’s monotonous. It’s boring. It’s simple.
It’s the calm before the storm.
So he enjoys it to the best of his abilities because he knows.
On a Saturday morning, he bakes a pie and hums a tune, feet falling light on the ground as he dances a mish-mash of moves he was forced to learn for the sake of formality’s sake and nothing else.
"Professor! Is that the cross-step waltz variation?"
He turns around and sees Tetia and Agott arrive together, the former with a bright look in her eyes and Agott with her usual look of indifference and interest.
"Ah, I think it is? I haven’t had the chance to dance in a long time" Qifrey approaches the table and sets the dish down with a bow, eliciting a giggle from Tetia.
"I’ve invited you to several balls in the past, but you never come with."
This time, Olruggio enters the kitchen, hair still messed up from sleep, and the bags under his eyes somehow even worse.
"I’ve said yes before," Qifrey gently counters, sitting down on his seat.
Olruggio heads to where the cups are kept and takes out a teacup for himself before looking back to ask if anyone else wants tea. After Agott asks for a cup, he takes out another one and heats the water by drawing a small flame for the water. Once he’s done, he takes the leaves and lets them steep, bringing the cups to the table. He sits beside Qifrey and takes a sip.
"Last time you came to a ball with me, we both still lived in the Great Hall," Olruggio grumbles.
Qifrey frowns. "Huh," he slices a piece of pie for himself and places it on his plate. "It’s been that long?"
"You must be getting old, Professor," Tetia comments as she takes a bite from her pie. Even worse is that Agott nods in agreement.
Oh, to be betrayed by your own students. "I—I’m not that old! I’m around twenty-six years old!" Qifrey’s protests fall short on his student’s ears as they dig in their food, commenting on how good it is.
"About twenty-six is plenty old to a bunch of eleven-year-olds," Olruggio comments, bumping his arm against Qifrey’s.
"I’m almost twelve!" Tetia interjects.
"That’s still months away from now," Agott argues.
"It doesn’t hurt to give a reminder!"
Qifrey smiles fondly at his two students and continues to eat. Truth is, he is old. Far older than he’d like to admit, but it’s a small price to pay to enjoy moments like these.
When they’re done, Tetia heads outside with a basket to pick some herbs while Agott informs them she’ll be in her workspace if they need anything from her.
With that, it’s just the two adults alone again.
Together, they clean up and when they’re done, faced with nothing else to do, Qifrey suggests a walk outside the atelier.
It’s a small break with no consequence. It’s an easy walk, just him and his best friend. Nothing less, nothing more.
The clouds hide the sun, shading them from the worst of the heat. The breeze pushes their hair back, letting the trees sway and the grass dance. A flock of birds fly over them, and maybe if Qifrey was younger, he would put his shoes together and soar with them, teasing Olruggio who would definitely keep his feet firmly on the ground and yell at him to get back down. But he’s older now, and he’s as content as he can be.
"Tetia’s a good student, isn’t she?" Olruggio says.
"She is. She’s making good progress with her studies," Qifrey answers, bending down to pluck a wildflower. "She’s not as fast as Agott but everyone has their own pace. I’m incredibly proud of her."
"That’s good. You really are a good teacher," Olruggio says.
"You make me blush," Qifrey casts Olruggio a smile, his eyes downcast and hooded, maybe even sly in nature.
They continue walking, Qifrey continuing to pick flowers here and there until he has a considerable amount in his hands. So he starts creating a flower crown and when he’s done, he sets it on Olruggio’s head.
"You look dashing, my friend!" Qifrey stands in front of Olruggio, holding back laughter at how positively disgruntled he looks.
"Haha, very funny," Olruggio doesn’t move to take off the flower crown like Qifrey expected. However, he does step closer, and takes Qifrey’s hand, putting his left hand just above his waist.
Qifrey’s breath hitches.
"You know, you should come with me to a ball. Next week. You can bring the girls too," Olruggio says, starting the steps to a dance Qifrey knows all too well. "It’ll be fun."
"I don’t know, Olly. There are better people to invite," Qifrey says, following Olruggio’s lead. "I’ll probably end up following the girls all the time."
"Then I’ll follow them with you. I don’t mind."
"You never mind."
"Because it’s you." Olruggio stops the dance and holds Qifrey tighter. "Because it’s you."
Qifrey rests his cheek on Olruggio’s head, ignoring the flowers scratching his cheeks; he can bear with it. "I don’t understand." It’s a whisper in the breeze, a message half-heartedly sent. "You could have more."
Olruggio moves away and meets Qifrey’s eyes. "Qifrey. I’m happy here. I’m happiest here," the rest of the words go unspoken. All Qifrey can do is look away in shame.
"And when you’re not happy anymore?" Qifrey asks because he knows this happiness will fall apart soon. It’s only a matter of time before it does.
"Then we’ll work together to be happy again, yeah?"
Frankly, Qifrey wants to sob. So all he does is nod, taking Olruggio’s hand and squeezing it tight.
There’s nothing else he can do.
xii.
It’s a shame he had to steal Riche away from that awful atelier before she came under his tutelage.
When Riche approached him once more with her declaration that she’d like to join his atelier, he immediately accepted her rather on-the-spot application. Although he offered to wait for her to return to her guardians and her brother first to say her farewells, she shook her head. With that, he led her to his atelier and so he finally had his three students.
And for his three students, he would do anything for them.
"What were you thinking? You could’ve died!" Olruggio’s voice is shaking, but Qifrey keeps his eyes trained outside the window, watching the stars slowly twinkle into existence.
"The important thing is that the girls are safe. I couldn’t risk it." Qifrey keeps his voice low just in case his students are nearby.
"And you wouldn’t even let me take you to a hospital. Qifrey, they would’ve been fine—"
Fine?
Fine?
Qifrey has always understood that he is an outlier, a practical stranger to the world of witches when he joined them. A victim of forbidden magic, when their entire world was built on the foundations of ensuring that forbidden magic would not exist anymore. All the resentment he’s harbored for years, swells and bursts in a matter of seconds.
"You don’t know that! You can’t say that for sure!" He looks at Olruggio and finally realizes: he’s so alone.
He’s alone.
"Things are changing and I can’t risk any of it." Qifrey lies back down on his bed and covers his eyes, the dull pain from the sunset finally ebbing away. "You don’t understand, Olruggio."
He hears the telltale sounds of Olruggio’s clothes shuffling around, then the sound of a chair being dragged across the room until finally, he sits down on it. Rough, warm hands take his, calloused thumbs rubbing circles. Maybe to try to make him feel better.
It doesn’t.
"Help me understand then."
"You wouldn’t."
"I will. I’m here for you," there’s raw grief in Olruggio’s voice and Qifrey knows it’s his fault. "Why won’t you let me help?"
"There are things we have to face alone. This is a path I must walk by myself, without any assistance. It’s not your fault." Qifrey lifts his arm and looks at his best friend. "I know you care and I know you would do anything to help me."
"Then why won’t you let me help? After all this time, after all we’ve been through," Olruggio puts his forehead on Qifrey’s hand and this time, Qifrey has to look away and stop himself from crying. It would be embarrassing to cry now, after everything else. "Just let me help you, Qifrey."
Qifrey doesn’t reply. How could he, when he knows what he has to say? What he has to do. He knows Olruggio won’t drop it until he tells him the truth—about his condition, his plans, their plans, his past, and their future together.
He sits up and curses the fact that his quire is just one reach away.
xiii.
In the end, it’s always Olruggio.
The script has variations, but Qifrey knows the gist of it.
First, there is a revelation. From stage right comes Olruggio, despair and anger fueling his every word. Then comes a speech, of friendship, of empathy, of disappointment, and his least favorite, of love. Last is betrayal because Qifrey is a coward, as much as he is brave.
The stars watch him carry his task.
He understands that there is no future for him.
In the end, all he can do is say sorry and do it again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
xiv.
Qifrey’s biggest break comes in the form of a young girl.
Against all odds, he meets Coco.
?
Where the child of light must suffer, the trees will wail.
Where the trees wail, come curses and blessings. They will give you aid and fault when you are most desperate.
In a lone atelier, is a witch whose flight will cause him despair despite everything else. In a lone atelier, is a story that will be forgotten, but must never be forgotten in the end.
END.
notes: thank you to @nanagoism for beta-ing this and listening to my rambles about this fic! i very much appreciate it :3
anyways there r two ways to read this fic :0 well, based on my liking anyways lol. feel free to ignore my reading lmao
the first is the obvious erasing memories hence the formatting and sectioning of numbers. the second is my very self indulgent idea that qifrey is stuck in a time loop bc of the pity of the stars. i would ramble more about this idea but i’m already embarrassed but feel free to hit me up if u want more thoughts on that jdfhsjdkfh
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