numb your heart's desire

i

Notes 1: I read the Howl's Moving Castle book somewhere in January 2020 and decided I may as well use that knowledge for the Spring Event.

I also watched the movie, since the theme is Ghibli, but — like most adaptations — there are some differences and this fic is going to vary. I went into the movie thinking I was going to identify myself as Sophie and her 'I'm getting old' jokes, but I think I'm the dog. Can't walk up stairs, knows about people's drama, can't breathe and wheezes every 5 seconds because of asthma; I relate.

;;

numb your heart's desire

;;

i

;;

She stumbles through the door, the feel of the steel doorknob is gripped in her calloused palm and her walking boots are covered in mud.

"Uh, um," Chitanda swallows as she walks in, her now free hand flies to rest over her heaving chest. There doesn't seem to be enough oxygen to fill her tired lungs, it's taken her forever to walk up the hill.

The inside of the house is simple and furnished — a pair of armchairs are pushed by an open hearth brick-stone fireplace; half of a dining table is occupied with clear jars, crystals and leather-bound books which are stacked up against one another; dried flowers are tied upside down on twine; old picture frames are hung near the stairs; and a work-bench at a corner is covered by permanent-looking stains.

Chitanda plays with her dark hair, the one pulled into a long braid, and looks around for someone to speak to. She calls out, "Excuse me?"

"Hello,"

A new voice says to her, seeming to have materialised from thin air. The greeting yanks Chitanda's shocking violet eyes to a young man — he's smiling at her, sat at one of the armchairs.

Chitanda blinks. What? When did he get there?

"I'm Satoshi Fukube, I work here, how can I help you?" He asks, sounding cheery and accepting.

Chitanda eyes the other armchair, the one beside this Fukube fellow. She wishes to sit on it. Her feet hurts and there would be nothing better than to plop herself on soft cushion. But she knows she has to appear presentable. Even if it may be hard to achieve, Chitanda doesn't think she looks all that neat. It can't be helped; her skin is covered in sweat and cheeks flushed red, her straw hat had done little to help shield her against the sun.

She makes her way closer to Satoshi and asks, "Are you the wizard? Can you help me?"

"In what way?"

There's something in the way Satoshi is staring at Chitanda — there's a glint behind his eyes, a flash of mischief and something else; something burning, like a small spark of fire. Chitanda can't put her finger on what such a stare means, but she's curious to know.

She opens her mouth and almost asks when the front door swings open — doorknob turned to colour orange. In walks Wizard Houtarou Oreki with his hands full of grocery bags, his signature cape of pink and grey triangles swishes behind him.

Houtarou doesn't even notice Chitanda until he looks up and his green eyes land on her muddy appearance. His bored expression is replaced with shock and interest.

"Who are you?" He asks.

"Chitanda. Eru Chitanda." She curtsies and the hem of her long skirts brush the floor slightly. Then she says, "You're the wizard who owns this place, right?" because the cape is a dead giveaway.