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Fushou looked up sharply before frowning with that sign of defeat in her eyes, this An'ya really wasn't cut out for chores was she? The young girl sighed as her hands stilled from their weeding. "Oh dear, must you make such a mess? I'll clean it."

An'ya opened her mouth to say something before being cut off, "No, no don't say anything," Fuu stated as she pushed herself off the ground and approached An'ya. "Here move over so that I can fix your mess." Though she emphasized on the word, her voice only held annoyance and not outright anger.

An'ya nodded meekly, scooting over frowning hopelessly. Though this was upsetting it was nothing like what had happened every morning and night. But then that wouldn't be an issue for a long while if this Prince Hiryuu was true to his word.

To her dismay she found herself remembering the feel of his hands and lips, his long purple hair falling down his shoulders. An'ya shivered, it wasn't her place to think of such things. Especially about him. The whelp of the King, a step away from crown prince...well he would be if not for that sanity issue.

An'ya really didn't want to think about it as she silently watched Fushou scrub at the stray water, it was clear enough despite the fact that it had the slight coloring of brown. Which was to be expected for there was no such thing as 'clear' water for cleaning uses.

Fushou lifted up her right hand, it held a damp rag, using the back of her wrist to wipe the sweat that was growing on her forehead as drops dribbled down. She said something incoherent before continuing with steady motions of the hand, it was like an art only it was of wiping floors.

"Um Fushou...?" An'ya suddenly spoke, waiting to see whether Fushou would pay any attention or not. It was a few minutes, An'ya figuring that she had just hadn't heard her or more likely decided to ignore the sort simple worlds.

Her scrubbing stopped before she looked up with those light yellow brown eyes of hers, "What is it?" She asked inquiringly, hand twitching as it wanted to return to work.

An'ya hestitated, Fushou giving her a look that pretty much said "get on with it." She took a deep breath before opening her mouth, "Do you think its possible..." She paused as she looked down at her small, fragile hands. They were a lovely pale color that never diminished no matter how much sun touched them. "Do you think I willl ever..." She trailed off before looking away.

The other woman loosened her grip on the wet rag, "Your brother?" She asked softly, any annoyance now gone as An'ya just nodded. She forced a small smile before resting the palm of her hand on An'ya's knee, which was covered in the torn yet restitched material. "Sweets..." Fushou started but quickly shut her mouth when An'ya looked at her with those mis-colored eyes saying that it was her turn to speak even if it was hard.

She blinked, letting the purplely misted colors float in the insides of her eyes. The white, with the faint traces of purple, right eye seemed see everything. "Yes....him." Its just been too long. An'ya could hardly remember him, didn't know him anymore, didn't even know what he looked like. He had always been her opposite, well atleast in appearence. The only thing she knew about him in the now was that he was alive, something told her that and she always followed her instincts.

Fushou shook out her long blonde hair before forcing a small smile, hoping to cheer An'ya up somehow. It probable wouldn't happen though. She didn't like the bitterness in her voice either. But she couldn't really blame An'ya either. Though Fushou never told her this, probable never will, was that she remembered the girls elder brother. She remembered him too well, at first she didn't know who he was rather she though him to be some peeping tom as he watched them about their work.

"Fuu?" An'ya looked up again, breaking the other woman out of her thoughts. "Do you think I'll ever see him again? Ever?" But An'ya already knew the answer and it was something she never wanted to hear. No. Even if Hiryuu let her go, she would search for him but never find him and she knew it.

"I don't know, I really don't. Just believe, alright?" Fushou paused, tucking some blonde strands of hair behind her ear. "Now sweetie, I have to finish this. You want to help?" As An'ya nodded, Foshou tossed her over a spare rag which was still relatively dry. Hopefully it'll let her mind wonder.