Chapter Text
The night was impossibly long.
Over an hour ago they reached their waiting wagon and started for three towns over, the closest place with registered mirrors.
They travelled at a snail’s pace- but it was nothing to be complained about. Desscaras performed a basic healing spell on Ichi when they arrived, and got the wagon moving before immediately going lights out in her corner. The wagon moved as fast as Desscaras willed it and in her sleep she had it creep slowly, a way to conserve her own energy before her rest replenished it.
She snored under a blanket and on top of a futon in the front of the wagon. Ichi did the same on the opposite side, under two blankets since they had to discard his blood soaked shirts, and on top of two futons since they wanted him to be as comfortable as possible. Gokuraku and Kumugi shared the last blanket to the best of their ability in the middle of the wagon. Kumugi took claim of the futon.
Usually the rocking of the wagon would lull Gokuraku right to sleep, but not now. Only a third of his body was under the blanket- one folded leg and part of his torso. He let it happen without complaint, and stared at the canvas ceiling.
His eyelids drooped heavy as exhaustion took over his body. His mind refused to sleep, though. He turned his head to the left and flinched when Kumugi’s gaze bore into his.
“I can’t sleep.” She said.
“Me neither. I’m still kinda wired.”
“Do you want some of the blanket back?”
“You can keep it, you look cozy.”
They sat in silence for a few moments. Gokuraku had half a mind to go sit by the wheels and watch the sun rise, but Kumugi stopped him in his tracks.
She flipped to her other side, facing Ichi now. He was all bundled up, drooling on the futon like nothing even happened. Gokuraku heard Kumugi sniffle.
“Ichi always gets so hurt during hunts. Always.” She started. “He gets hurt and then he’s asleep for hours and days while everyone else worries themselves sick over him.”
Then she turned to Gokuraku, tears welling. “He never sees how much I cry over him.” Another sniffle. “Does he even realize how much we care?”
Gokuraku rolled from his back to his side to face her. “He does, I think. I hate how he’s never awake to see how much we freak out, though.”
“I’m tired of sitting by his bed after his monthly near-death experience.”
“That makes two of us.” He recalled all the times he and Kumugi would sit around a sleeping Ichi, bored out of their minds but wanting to be there to greet him as soon as he woke up. They played a whole lot of cards over his lap, and read and had meals by his bedside. It happened so often that they had permanent games stowed away under the bed.
Kumugi wiped her eyes on the blanket. “I hate how it can’t be helped, too. There’s no way to prevent him from getting hurt, or being stupid, or getting hurt while being stupid.” More tears came that she soaked up again. “I really, really, hate it…” and she buried her face in the covers.
“Mugi,” he shifted to be an inch closer, and changed the subject for their collective well-being. “If Icchan isn’t awake by the time we get back, let’s play Mahjong on his bed, okay?”
“Huh? Why Mahjong?” she uncovered her face.
“He’s still on a losing streak with me. He might want another rematch.”
Kumugi snickered, her mood almost immediately starting to brighten. “If that’s the case then we need to play Mancala right after- he’s so bad at it it’s funny!”
“And then we’ll have sashimi, maybe he’ll wake up out of jealousy.” They both laughed, and some of the weight they endured in the past hours seemed to lift a little.
Another few silent minutes passed by.
“Gokuraku, aren’t you cold?” By now Kumugi had taken the rest of the blanket and bundled up, quite greedily considering her size. He shook his head.
“Not really. I can regulate pretty well.” he lifted up his right arm. “And my arm is heated.” It was something both Gokuraku and Love Joe thought was a little silly to spend the association’s money on, but they did it anyway. Times like these he was glad for it.
He carried on. “I can do things like keep food hot when I hold it, heat up water for coffee…” He threw his arms around Kumugi, blanket and all, and she shrieked. “...and hug people without the metal making them cold!”
Kumugi laughed out loud. “So high tech!”
They must have woken Desscaras up. “Go to sleep. Or at least giggle quietly.” she demanded from across the floor, before returning to silence.
Still smiling, Gokuraku released Kumugi’s cocoon and flopped back to his previous spot. “Mahjong, then Mancala, then sashimi.” he checked off, in a whisper. “But if he’s up before then, we should play Charades.”
“Just so you can act out things he doesn’t know exist again?”
“It’s called strategy.”
“It doesn’t count if you act out ‘pangolin’ and he’s never even seen one before.”
Gokuraku reasoned with her. “They’re pretty common in my homeland. While me and Icchan were running around we may have seen one. Such cute critters.”
“Goodnight, Gokuraku.”
He huffed, then looked back at the ceiling again. Desscaras never scolded Kumugi, just him and Ichi. It felt unfair, but he knew that Kumugi was too well-behaved to get into real trouble.
Gokuraku was glad for the conversation. It settled his nerves, and it seemed to settle Kumugi’s too. Within five minutes she was asleep. Within ten, he was too.