Like the
Blackest Night
- - -
'What the
hell do you see in him, anyway?' you ask.
Your eyes, a funny reddish-brownish-gold that Toboe can't quite capture
with words, snap to Toboe's face, then slide away, as
if guilty of something they can't name.
'Huh? Who?' Toboe says,
which pisses you off. Because Toboe
knows who, knows who 'he' is, and is
playing innocent for some dumb-ass reason.
Or maybe he's not playing innocent, he really is that dumb. You
haven't quite figured it out yet.
'Him—Tsume!' you insist, and you're very,
very much aware of how much of a whine it comes out as.
'Well, why
didn't you just say so?' Toboe half-laughs, and there's something about that
laugh that doesn't settle right with you.
You look at
Toboe; looks at the wide, guileless gold eyes that aren't human at all; the
slightly pouty mouth that says the stupidest things
sometimes; the not-delicate hands hidden by the furry...thing Toboe bought for
Cheza.
You look at
all that, and realize it's a lie.
What you
mean by 'lie'...it's not that Toboe's eyes and mouth and hands and that ugly
brown thing don't exist, it's just that Toboe knows he looks dumb and innocent and like a runt, may have even
calculated it for that purpose. Which...kind of spoils everything. Kind of...human.
Only kind
of, because the thought of Toboe being more than he acts like he is—more like a
wolf, like Tsume and Kiba—makes your
heart thud a little wilder and faster and harder in your ribcage.
Why? you
wonder.
'I did, you
idiot,' you say. Toboe glares at
you.
'I am not an
idiot!' he glares, and you roll your eyes.
'Yeah, yeah,
your taste says otherwise.' You
gesture to the mini bearskin in his hands, and somehow, you have the distinct
feeling that you've insulted some bears grievously, but hell, whatever.
Toboe gives
you that funny, sideways half-pout with the slanted, downcast eyes, and goes,
'It's better than what you got for
her.'
You look
down at the pink boots and feel a rush of anger. 'Hey, at least it goes with the rest of
her! Why would a flower get cold?'
'Why would a
flower need boots?' he counters, and he's definitely
pouting.
'Ah, shut
up, you obviously don't get it.'
And then you realize that Toboe's done something that you didn't think
he knew how to do: sidetracked you.
'Anyway, runt, what do you see in him?' And he can't get away from you now.
The wind
shifts in the right direction, and you pick up a scent that's something
like...nervousness?
Heh, good for him, you
think.
'Well,'
Toboe says softly, and you blink, a little surprised that he's finally
answering your question now, 'he makes me feel safe.'
'Safe. Huh,' you say thoughtfully, and while
you're glad that he feels that way—in this world, there's so little to feel safe around—you feel...
Whatever. Doesn't really matter, anyway.
'Must be
nice,' you say, because the silence is awkward and you hate it.
Toboe's eyes
light up. 'It is!' he says
excitedly, and now that you look at him, he doesn't look like he's pretending
to be innocent and sweet and truthful; now, he is all that and so, so much more. He blushes a little. 'When I'm around him, my heart beats
faster'—I can relate, you think—'and, I dunno, it's
like I'm on fire, only it feels good and it feels bad, and...' He keeps speaking, faster and faster and
faster, until you're half in love with Tsume yourself.
Which is
just...ew.
'Yeah, yeah,
I get the point,' you interrupt, breaking into his little rant, and he looks
vaguely hurt, 'you're crazy about him.'
'What!? I am—I am not!'
You grin,
half to him and half to yourself.
'Open your
eyes, kid, you've been talking about how you feel when he's within three miles
of you; if you're not crazy about him, then you're in
love with him.'
Toboe shuts
up, not knowing what to say.
You wonder
why you aren't more disturbed by the idea of two wolves—two male wolves—mating.
You look at
Toboe, and realize, well, duh—why would you be?
'But he's
nice...' Toboe says softly, and you don't know if he's talking to you or to
himself.
'We are talking about the same wolf, right?'
you say dryly. You can't stay
serious for long.
Toboe
flushes a dull shade of pink, and says, 'But he is. I mean, not in the
sense that, um, Cheza is, coz he, you know—'
'Oh, just
say it already, willya?' you say before you can stop
yourself. Because something in your
chest is squeezing tightly and twisting and turning and it hurts. You hate it, and
you know it's because of Toboe and his hero worshipping of Tsume.
'Fine!'
Toboe growls and he looks annoyed.
He takes a deep breath.
Releases it. 'Tsume's like
the sky—the, um, night sky,' he says, and you can't help but agree; Tsume's
eyes are cold and glittering, like stars, and the shade of his hair is like the
serene face of the moon, smooth and cold.
The way he stands, cocky and sure of himself, like he could look death
in the eye and spit, 'Fuck you,' and mean it—it's the kind of person you always
wanted to be, back when you were a funny-looking orange cub with too big feet
you couldn't stop tripping over.
So, maybe,
you can understand why Toboe looks at Tsume with those eyes.
Toboe and
Tsume.
Hell, it
even sounds like it was meant to be.
'Yeah,' you
say, and your throat's dry and you want to laugh it off, 'go on.' Your grip on the startlingly pink boots
goes tighter, and your fingernails—short and blunted and amazingly unlike your
claws—dig into the tough material.
Distantly, you're aware that you're angry. Jealous? Hell yeah. Of who—Toboe or Tsume—you're not quite
sure. They're funny wolves, the two
of them, and they've found something special.
Who
knows? They may even be
life-mates—once in a lifetime thing, and they're lucky as shit for that.
Toboe shoots
you a look, one that says, You sure you
all right? And you just nod
back, kind of, without really moving.
Your feet, on the other hand, keep marching down the road mechanically,
heavy and graceless and kicking up little piles of dust every time they hit the
ground.
'And then
he's like a big brother, protective and brave and...well, kind of mad at having
to save me again from my own mistakes.'
Toboe sounds embarrassed about it.
You file it away for later; who knows when it'll come in handy?
'Must be
nice,' you say, and you're not sure if you've said it already. Step, one, two, step, sneeze, wrinkle
your nose at the smell of fried oyster coming from somewhere, though where
they'd get oyster here is a mystery,
step, one, two, repeat.
'It is,'
Toboe says, either ignoring or not noticing the half-wistful half-jealous note
in your voice, 'coz, you know, it makes you feel safe.'
Safe. Goes back to that again, doesn't it.
It's been a
long, long time since you've felt safe. May have been back when you were a cub,
but even then, your memories are spiked with a desperate kind of loneliness; a
hunger for something you couldn't name then and call '
'Know what
you mean,' you lie, and there's silence.
It would
have been the perfect moment, if not for the wind blowing in the right
direction and you suddenly catching sight of an old, wrinkly woman you swear
you've seen at least a dozen times before.
Toboe sees
her too, and you forget all about the question and the answer and safety.
You start
running.
- - -
:: End Fic ::
- - -
[jaws
drop] What the hell? Weirdest, longest WR fic I've ever
written...