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Despite his constant assurances to the contrary, Black Raisin didn't believe that Pure Vanilla was "fine."
She shot a worried glance at his back from across the hall. What was once an abandoned building in the reclaimed Vanilla Kingdom was now a temporary hospital, tending to cookies from all kingdoms. Dozens of beds lined the walls, each one holding a patient at various stages of recovery. Pure Vanilla stood at one of those bedsides right now, cradling the hand of the bandaged cookie laying upon it with both of his. No doubt he was saying something comforting as the light of healing magic wrapped around them.
Finding him here only made Black Raisin's worry grow. Of course he was here, especially after he'd taken those who'd yet to heal under his personal care. It would've been more surprising if he wasn't helping those in need. That part wasn't what concerned her.
It was the fact that he never seemed to stop.
If Pure Vanilla wasn't tending to the injured, he was at Strawberry Crepe's lab, helping them prepare the Wafflebots to aid the reconstruction. If he wasn't there, he was helping a random villager with some errand or chore that had gone untended in the fallout of the destruction. And if he wasn't doing that, Black Raisin would find him wherever there was a flat enough surface to use as a table, writing page upon page of updates to send to the other Ancients, blueberry birds patiently waiting on his head and shoulders for the newest letter to deliver.
It was always something for others. Never about himself.
The bandaged cookie drifted into slumber underneath the magic's light as Black Raisin watched. As the last of the glow faded, Pure Vanilla hummed to himself for a moment, something he did after a successful round of healing. She wasn't sure if he was aware of that personality quirk, but Black Raisin was glad for it regardless. Now she was sure that she wasn't interrupting.
But before she could move, Pure Vanilla turned around, the eye in his staff flicking towards her. He smiled.
"Black Raisin Cookie!" he said. "I must have lost track of time. Is it that late already?"
A week ago, when her worries started to bubble to the surface, she'd insisted on walking him back to the castle every day after his check-ins with the patients. She'd thought seeing him more often would put her fears to rest. Her assumption was wrong.
Black Raisin shook her head. "No, I'm…early," she said, losing her nerve. "Just thought I'd check in on you."
"Everything is going well here," he said, still smiling. "If there's something else you'd rather do, you certainly don't have to wait for me. I may be a bit longer."
"No, it's fine," Black Raisin said with a wave of her hand, hating the awkwardness suddenly creeping over her. "I can wait. Or help."
"Then…if you could check on the supply closet in the east wing," Pure Vanilla said. "Please let me know if anything is running low."
"Yeah," Black Raisin said. "Will do."
He turned away, heading for the next bed, smile unmoving.
Black Raisin kicked herself mentally. It was a simple question, but her nature of leaving things be wouldn't let her ask it.
'Are you okay?'
She watched him go, waiting until he'd stopped at the next bed before looking away. The east wing wasn't far, but Black Raisin took slow steps, berating herself with each one.
Part of her hesitance was that she already knew how he'd answer. He would say that he was fine, and ask Black Raisin how she was doing instead. It was what he didn't say that had her worried.
Since that day, Pure Vanilla hadn't spoken White Lily's name even once.
Black Raisin had been there, at that moment. She'd seen that final sacrifice carried away by the wind. And she'd seen the way that it had broken him.
She hadn't known White Lily. None of them had. For most of her life, the Ancient Heroes had been nothing more than stories to her. The aftermath of the Dark Flour War was just another thing to endure, as far as she'd been concerned. Whatever the Vanilla Kingdom had been once upon a time didn't matter. It was the day to day survival of the village that was important, not holding on to fantasies of heroes who'd already failed them.
Then she'd met an amnesiac stranger named Healer Cookie. And everything had changed.
Black Raisin hadn't known White Lily, but she knew her friend. And if Pure Vanilla trusted her to come through for them, then so did she.
But when the end came, and the sun rose, and Black Raisin saw the tears on Pure Vanilla's face—
She'd felt like an intruder.
This kind of grief wasn't meant for the stories, let alone for others to see. It was for the group of friends, their number cut by one, who'd gathered around each other at the end of it all.
When they'd returned from that moment, Pure Vanilla was the same as he'd ever been. The same smile, the same soft voice reassuring everyone else.
But this time it was more concerning than comforting.
There were the sudden stops and sighs, the way Pure Vanilla would press a hand to his chest as if he didn't believe that he was really there. He'd vanish for hours, reappearing at her shoulder with a casual question. Black Raisin would pretend not to notice the white petals stuck at the end of his cape.
Whenever he joined Black Raisin on her rounds, she heard at least a dozen condolences. The majority were from sheer politeness. Others were more concerned. A small handful openly wept at him, lamenting the loss of a cookie who'd first vanished far before they were ever baked. Pure Vanilla handled them all gracefully, turning their concern away from him and onto themselves.
"I'm fine," he'd said. "What about you? Is there something I can do to help?"
Black Raisin opened the supply closet door with perhaps too much force. Some rolled bandages nearly fell from the shelf, practically begging to be used. She nudged them back into place, taking a brief glance at the rest of the overflowing supplies. 'Running low' was not the issue here. If anything, whoever had stocked the closet had over-prepared. Pure Vanilla's frozen smile drifted across her mind. She sighed.
He wasn't leaving any future accidents to chance, was he?
She'd been there when the report about the Beasts had arrived. The autopsy, to be more specific. The Dark Cacao Kingdom had done their best to determine the true fate of the Beasts, whether it was Silent Salt turning on them or something to do with the drain on their Soul Jam.
Pure Vanilla had listened to it in silence.
He'd sat with his back straight, hand firmly on his staff, eyes cold. She'd watched as her friend's warm demeanor vanished under the hard veneer of a former monarch, as if hearing the report was a test of endurance.
After that, he hadn't spoken Shadow Milk's name either. Not a single word left his mouth about what had happened in Beast Yeast. The fight had ended, the sun continued to rise, and Pure Vanilla met it all with the same smile.
Black Raisin was deeply familiar with dedicating herself to a role in order to deal with a loss, if not just to survive. But she wasn't sure if Pure Vanilla was dealing with his situation at all.
He didn't utter White Lily's name. He never spoke of Shadow Milk. He just continued to say that he was fine, thank you for your concern.
His lashes hid them well, but Black Raisin could see circles deepening underneath his eyecing with each passing day. Every time she'd leave him for the night at the palace steps—looking up from the base of the stairs to see him still waiting at the top, giving her a smile and a wave before turning away and passing through the wide doors—something gnawed at her that she shouldn't.
It haunted her at night, the image of Pure Vanilla's small smile fading as he turned away, stepping into the dark castle emblazoned with the images of his friends.
Alone.
Black Raisin closed the supply closet with a soft click. She had to talk to him.
By the time she returned to the main hall, Pure Vanilla had finished his check ins, waiting by the main entrance with a smile closer to something real.
"Anything I should restock?" he asked as she approached. "If you don't mind stopping for supplies on the way back, that is."
"Nah, no, not at all," Black Raisin said, stumbling over her words. "To…both of those questions. But it should be fine. For a while. Even with everyone here."
Pure Vanilla just nodded, either not noticing or graciously ignoring her sudden awkwardness.
"It's such a relief that everyone is healing well," he said, pressing a hand to his chest.
Black Raisin noted the movement as they stepped outside through the doorway. She had to ask him, she told herself. At least she had to tell him how worried she was.
"No small thanks to you," Black Raisin said instead.
Pure Vanilla shook his head, the early orange of the setting sun reflecting off the blue of his Soul Jam.
"This is where I'm needed," he said, still smiling. "If my powers can help someone, anyone, then I'd…"
He trailed off, a shadow crossing his face.
Black Raisin hesitated a moment before reaching out a hand.
"Pure Vanilla—"
"Perhaps I should stay," he said brightly, cutting her off. "Just in case of an emergency. It would be tragic if something happened and no one was able to get here in time."
Black Raisin slowly retracted her hand. "Right," she said, not sure what else to say.
"Every now and again, there's a patient that refuses help," Pure Vanilla continued. His smile looked even more like a mask than before. "They'll insist that they're fine, until they're past the point that anyone can do anything."
Her arm fell limp at her side.
"Like you," Black Raisin murmured.
Pure Vanilla's eyes went wide. Only then did she realize that she'd said that out loud. Face burning with embarrassment, Black Raisin raised her hand.
"That…came out wrong," she said. "What I meant was—"
"No," Pure Vanilla said, cutting her off again with a shake of his head. "Please do not worry about me. I apologize if I…gave you any reason to be…concerned."
She could see the slight shake in his shoulders as he inhaled, and that only made her feel worse.
"Yes, I think I'll stay," Pure Vanilla said, his bright tone back in his voice. He started to turn away. "Good night, Black Raisin Cookie."
Without thinking, she caught him by the shoulder.
"Wait," she said. "Just… Pure Vanilla Cookie, I'm sorry. But I am worried about you."
Pure Vanilla didn't pull away. He stood there, silent, facing away from Black Raisin.
"You haven't stopped once," she continued, the words coming faster now that she'd let them loose. "Not since we've returned. And I know we needed you, everyone needed you, but… You can take a break, you know? You don't have to be the hero all the time. If anything, I'm sure everyone else would like to return the favor. You're always taking care of us, so…"
Black Raisin trailed off, feeling like she was rambling. Pure Vanilla still hadn't moved.
Lifting her hand from his shoulder, she felt like a fool who'd assumed too much. She should have just believed his words. If Pure Vanilla wanted help or support, he'd ask for it.
Wouldn't he?
Black Raisin opened her mouth again, ready to apologize once more—
A soft sob broke the silence.
As Pure Vanilla slowly turned around, she saw large tears dripping from his eyes. He wiped one of them away, looking at his hand in shock.
"Ah," he said, voice wavering. "I…thought I'd run out of these."
He let out a wet laugh, the tears still running down his face.
Without thinking, Black Raisin moved, pulling Pure Vanilla into a hug.
He stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, resting his head against her shoulder as his shaking turned into full body sobs. Staff dropping from his hand to the ground, Pure Vanilla returned the hug, hands clinging to her cape.
"Sorry," Black Raisin whispered to him, patting his back in what she hoped was a comforting way. "I…didn't mean to make you cry."
She felt him shake his head.
"No," Pure Vanilla said, voice muffled. "You…"
He didn't finish his sentence, dissolving into further sobs. Black Raisin continued to pat his back, not trusting herself to add any further comment. If what he needed was the space to cry, then she'd provide that.
Pure Vanilla pulled away a few minutes later, wiping his face with his sleeve. "I'm sorry," he said, voice a bit rough. "That you had to see that."
Black Raisin patted his arm before stooping down to pick up his staff.
"My fault for pushing too far," she said, "Next time I'll, uh. Pick better words to ask how you're doing."
A small laugh slipped out of Pure Vanilla as he held out his hand. Black Raisin carefully passed his staff to him, waiting until his grip closed around it before letting go.
"But you were right," he said, anchoring his staff to the ground before leaning against it. "Despite my choices, there are still some truths I have trouble facing."
Black Raisin watched him for a moment as she stood again, weighing her question carefully before asking.
"About…everything that happened?" she said.
Pure Vanilla raised his head, looking towards the sunset. The dark circles under his eyecing now had a red tinge to them.
"Sometimes I think he was right," he said, voice slow and soft. "That I was a fool for expecting understanding to be good enough to help someone." His face grew darker. "But it wasn't enough. Not to save either of them."
There it was again, that sense that she was intruding on something that no one else was supposed to see. That no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't pull her friend out of the depths that he'd fallen into.
"You've been very kind to me, Black Raisin Cookie," Pure Vanilla said, exhaustion creeping into his voice. "It…may be difficult for me for a while longer. To speak of them, I mean."
"Well," Black Raisin said, not waiting to leave the silence, "You don't have to talk to me about it."
She paused, thinking for a moment.
"What about the other Ancient Heroes?" she asked. "You could reach out to them. I'm sure they'd want you to. Lean on them, I mean. They'd get it more than anyone else. You all knew her the best."
The same shadow from earlier crossed Pure Vanilla's face.
"Did I?" he asked the empty air.
Only the slight wind answered him.
"In any case," Pure Vanilla continued, closing his eyes, "Everyone else has far more important things to worry about. I didn't mean to concern you. Or anyone else. This is…something I have to manage by myself."
Black Raisin frowned. She couldn't solve this with just one conversation, she knew that. But she wasn't going to leave him alone, either.
"Alright," she said with a slow nod. "Then…just a break. Like I said before. You don't have to talk about anything. Just let us take care of you, even if it's just for a little while."
The sun dyed the sky a deeper orange above them as it shifted lower towards the horizon.
Pure Vanilla adjusted his hands on his staff. "Just for today, then," he said.
Black Raisin bit back a laugh. "That's not a fair deal," she said, tilting her head towards the setting sun. "Day's almost over."
"Ah, but…" Pure Vanilla looked towards the ground. "I still… What if something happens and I'm needed?"
"Then they'll find us," Black Raisin reassured him. "And if something does happen, it wouldn't be your fault just for not being close by."
Judging by the slight frown on his face, he agreed with her logic but didn't like it. She held back another laugh. Even after admitting that he wasn't doing his best, he still put others first. Not that she'd expect anything less from him at this point.
"How about a walk?" Black Raisin offered. "Not checking on anyone or anything, just…seeing where we end up."
The orchid's eye in the staff turned its gaze on her, but Pure Vanilla didn't say anything for a moment.
"How…have the gardens been faring?" he asked, voice tentative.
Black Raisin smiled, and held out her hand.
"Why don't we go look for ourselves?" she offered.
The city gardens weren't far, a likely half-compromise. If it were anywhere else, Black Raisin would've thought the distance was the only reason Pure Vanilla mentioned it. But only a few short months ago, she'd watched him as Healer Cookie try and fail to create a small garden for the village children on the war blasted plains. Pure Vanilla was as careful with plants as he was with cookies. Under his caring hand, the palace and city gardens had flourished on his return.
It was the closest place he could go without feeling guilt.
The outer gardens had taken damage during that final fight, but it had been limited to the walkways and the edges of the larger planters. Even with dirt and roots flung about, the flowers had remained resilient, taking back to the ground and blooming brighter than ever upon their replanting. It was as if they too were stubborn, wanting to witness the next hard-won sunrise.
Pure Vanilla hadn't seen any of it yet. Black Raisin wondered if he'd been avoiding all the gardens, save for one with white petals. But looking out at it now, his smile was like the sun reemerging from behind a stormy sky.
"Oh!" Pure Vanilla said, his hand slipping out of Black Raisin's to tug on her cloak. "It's still…!"
"Everyone will be happy to hear that you approve of the remodeling," Black Raisin said, smiling back at him.
Staff tapping over the stone walkway, Pure Vanilla stopped at the first burst of flowers. He stooped down, hands caressing the petals the same way he'd held that patient's hand.
"They're doing so well," he said, relief finally lifting his voice.
With a contented grin, Black Raisin kept a few steps behind Pure Vanilla as he wandered through the gardens, waiting as he paused every now and again to stop and whisper to the flowers. The further they went, the more Pure Vanilla seemed to return to himself. Not a mask, not a role, not a hero from the stories. Just him. Her friend. Smiling among the blooms, answering any questions she had about the flowers.
The sky above them melted from orange, to purple, then finally a dark blue dusted with stars. A bright moon illuminated the rest of their way through the garden. At a corner between planters, a freshly assembled bench awaited them. Pure Vanilla took a seat with a contented sigh.
"As silly as it sounds, I wish I could stay the night here," he said, carefully leaning his staff next to him against the bench.
Black Raisin sat down on his other side, looking out across the garden. The petals of the flowers glowed slightly in the moonlight, like a mirror to the stars above. She hummed her agreement.
"I don't blame you," she said. "It's beautiful out here."
"Thank you," Pure Vanilla said. "I'm still sorry for… Well, I never want to worry anyone. But I appreciate your care, more than words can say."
"Of course I care," Black Raisin said, giving his shoulder a playful nudge. "And the others care too. Just…if it gets bad, take it easy on yourself. That's what you'd say to us, right?"
Pure Vanilla chuckled. "I guess I should take my own advice," he said, leaning back on the bench. "I feel like I'd rest better here than in the castle. For now, at least."
A breeze rustled the flower petals, giving the illusion that they were twinkling stars in the sky. A memory came back to Black Raisin.
A long night standing lookout, vision growing blurry as she tried to focus across the plains. The wastes turned white under to full moon, but she wasn't there to appreciate its unexpected beauty. She needed to keep guard. The children in the village behind her deserved at least one quiet night.
And yet for all her self talk about holding her watch, she didn't hear the tapping of a staff on the ground as it approached. It wasn't until a hand was on her shoulder that she realized that she wasn't alone.
He'd nearly scared her out of her dough, and she'd lost track of the number of times he'd apologized while she'd caught her breath. He'd offered to take her shift, but she'd refused. She just had to see this through. If she went back now, only her own guilt and worry would be waiting for her at her tent.
Healer had sat for a minute with that, the bandages around his face crinkling in thought. And then he'd made her an offer.
"You know," Black Raisin started, his words from back then echoing out of her mouth, "if all you need is some company, then—"
Something soft fell against her shoulder. Black Raisin heard Pure Vanilla sigh, and she looked down.
He was asleep.
Using her shoulder as a pillow, Pure Vanilla's slight weight relaxed against her, limp hands resting in his lap. Carefully, Black Raisin reached over, plucking his hat off his head before it slipped off entirely. She tried not to move otherwise, letting him finally get his rest.
Sometimes Black Raisin wondered if she was good enough to be a friend to him. If she could handle the cracks left behind by the expectations of legends. But if Pure Vanilla still trusted her this much, then she'd just have to believe him.
Black Raisin leaned her head on top of Pure Vanilla's, watching the flowers sway under the stars. As far as night watches went, she preferred this one to the old days. She could hear Pure Vanilla's slight breath, matching the breeze winding through the flower petals.
She couldn't take away his pain. But she could see past the mask he would wear, and the burdens of a living legend. She could remind him to take his own advice.
She could be his friend. And maybe someday, he would talk about what he lost.
Black Raisin let out a sigh of her own, settling against the bench and her sleeping friend.
Until then, this was fine.