Chapter Text
♦ It hurts, Kabane.
Waiting hurts and I don't know why. ♦
The evening wind chases coolly up under her hood, bringing a light whistling to her ears that she cannot escape. Kabane's voice still seems to be in her head, stoic and direct, when he said he liked Inugami. It's not a problem that Kabane likes someone else – at least that's what Kon tells herself, because everything around her seems far more complicated than she can understand. The ache in her chest bites incessantly with the ignorance that prevails because she has never felt like this before. Not even when Inari pushed her off. She wanted to be her number one, but it feels different towards Kabane. Looking at him makes her happy. Seeing him with someone else, on the other hand, hurts.
She would love to eat Aya. Just like she tried to do on the last mission when Kabane stepped in to protect her. Because he had to do it for a friend. Still, it seems unfair.
Would he save her if she got into trouble?
Displeased, she purses her mouth, pulls her legs close to her chest on the thick branch she is sitting on and waits. As she always does, until she falls asleep. Until the next morning comes and Kabane might think of her and drop in, though he never comes to see her unless the evening has fallen. Still, she waits. Because she is stupid and waiting is her best quality. Kon is patient.
It's a simple decision that makes her close her eyes. Kabane's voice rushes through her ears again. “Inugami-san,” he had said. What had she been expecting?
Her ears twitch briefly under the hood before her tail wags indecisively. She pushes Inugami's name from her conscience, recalling all the times Kabane has said her name. Kon.
Kabane and Kon.
Doesn't sound bad, she assures herself, letting herself fall into the dreams that come for her late at night.
Somewhere in the background she can hear the rustling of leaves, Kabane's clear voice, which triggers joy inside her until she opens her eyes once more and looks down at the ground. She isn't expecting anyone, not this evening, and yet Kabane's haunting eyes stare at her. To her amazement, he holds his hands against the tree and she knows what he will do if she doesn't come down.
It isn't as if she will refuse. Today there is no reason to.
She comes down to him with a bright smile, landing gallantly on her hands and feet, and immediately feels heat on her skin, tingling through her chest. Kabane, opposite her, looks at her questioningly, as always not very expressive, but somehow attentive. Not even Inari has ever looked at her so attentively.
“What are you doing here?” Kon brings out, eyeing Kabane and dares to follow the attraction to him. She likes being close, feeling his breath on her face, because sometimes she is afraid of imagining Kabane.
“You disappeared all of a sudden. Is everything all right?” His head tilts slightly as the next breeze sweeps over them both, carrying the unpleasant smell of bugs to Kon.
Aya is stuck on him.
Her disgusting smell takes over Kabane as if there is no place for Kon in his world. Frustration driving her ears down before she lowers her gaze.
“Is she going to come around more often?” Kon inquires, unsure of what she really wants to hear.
“Aya?” He pronounces her name differently from Kon's. Maybe it's the intonation, but it sounds softer coming out of his mouth than hers. “She wants to open a clinic to help others. She'll probably come around more often.”
Of course she will, it runs through Kon and she can't help but see the differences. She herself is strong, but Kabane seems to like girls he can protect. Adding to that, Aya has a goal bigger than what Kon has set for herself.
“I'm sure you're excited because she helps so many others.” For a moment Kon takes a step back, turning away as the muddy feeling in her chest seems to suffocate her.
“It's good that she helps others,” Kabane confirms tonelessly, the same sound as always, the subtle nuance in that he really means it.
“She can help you.” And Kon could rip her to shreds for it – without even knowing why she finds this bug-girl so loathsome.
“Kon?” Indecision reaches Kabane too, perhaps worry because he doesn't understand. Heck, she doesn't even understand it herself.
“Kon wants to help you too, Kabane,” Kon presses out chokingly, feeling the heat on her cheeks cool horribly in the next breath as tears slide to her chin and drip in thick beads onto her clenched fists. “How else is Kon going to be your number one?”
“But you're strong, Kon. You can help me with that too. Just different from Aya.”
“Is that good enough?”
He nods.
“Really?”
Again he nods before moving closer to her. The uncomfortable feeling in her chest eases, becomes light and pleasant again, lovely, the way she knows it. But the lightness reaches her head for a change when Kabane doesn't stop and instead encloses her in a gentle embrace. The warmth of his body is contagious, pressing pleasantly against hers. His arms take away all her freedom and although it would be constricting in any other case, she enjoys this affection of another. Kabane's affection. Being number one suddenly seems possible. It seems like a wish that can come true as she tastes her own tears on her tongue and Kabane sets off fireworks in her chest.
But when his touch subsides, passes loosely, she recoils.
She bangs her head against the trunk of the tree that provides support behind her. Perplexed, she shakes her head, still feeling the tears on her cheeks and noticing the moonlight on the horizon. She is still sitting on the branch, alone and without Kabane.
A glance down leaves no doubt that he isn't there. Probably never was, and yet she wonders what happened.
It takes her a breath – or four – to understand that Kabane was just a dream.
Her dream. Of which only the memory remains. He is not there, won't come.
So Kon puts her head on her drawn knees again and starts waiting.
Because she is stupid and because waiting is her best quality.
Kon is patient.
Even when it hurts.