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Shou makes it a point to sneak away from his village on occasion to pay Ritsu a visit. He’d promised, after all, and he finds the visits to be both immensely fun and a welcome distraction from his mundane, repetitive daily life.
It’s easy to be around Ritsu, even though the two of them are so vastly different in both biology and personality. He doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence with meaningless words the way he sometimes does around the other people in his village, content to lounge around and sketch or sew or peruse the books on Ritsu’s shelves. It’s a safe and comforting place, and it’s wholly due to Ritsu’s presence.
He’s experiencing one of those rare, quiet, calm moments now, sitting with his back up against the trunk of a white birch tree so its browning leaves can shelter him from the early autumn sun. Rays of sunlight peek through the trees and draw patterns on the ground and on Ritsu, who lays on his back with his eyes closed and his hands clasped over his stomach. With how quiet he’s being, he almost looks like he could be sleeping, his chest gently rising and falling with his even breathing. His bangs fall out of his face when he rests like this, revealing the smooth, stress-free expanse of his forehead. As much as Shou can appreciate Ritsu’s pout or the way his brow wrinkles when he’s annoyed, there’s a certain gratification he feels from seeing Ritsu like this, too, his worldly cares invisible.
His wings are stretched out across the ground, one of them resting atop the grass and flowers at his side and the other covering Shou’s legs like a blanket. He’d done so at Shou’s behest after complaining about how they would get sore if he laid on them while they were folded up, and though he’d been stiff at first, he’d relaxed into the position quickly after assuming it. Usually, Ritsu’s defensive about his wings, careful to keep them folded up and out of the way, but he hadn’t shied away from the suggestion when Shou had offered it up. Now, the wing weighs down on his lap, warm and comfortable. Shou wonders, briefly, if this is the result of the trust they’d built up between them. His fingers twitch and hover over the dark, shimmering feathers, ghosting over them but never making contact.
Shou refrains from touching Ritsu’s wings--his friend has told him before about how hunters would cut them off and mount them on the walls of their houses like trophies, and how the touches bring back bad memories at times--but it’s hard to resist the urge when his feathers look so soft and inviting.
After a few minutes of debating, he tentatively reaches out and runs his hand over Ritsu’s dark plumage, searching for stray feathers to straighten back into place.
Ritsu twitches under Shou’s touch, and when he looks to the side he sees the boy looking back at him with open eyes, confused and a little tense. “What are you doing?” he asks, though his voice is low and muffled in the way someone sounds when they’re trying not to fall asleep.
Shou retracts his hand immediately, flashing Ritsu an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Your feathers looked a little crooked, so I thought I’d straighten them for you. You’re always doing it to yourself, like you’re preening,” he says. “Should I stop?”
Ritsu holds his gaze for a few quiet seconds, then glances away, his cheeks flushing just a little pink in a way Shou’s grown familiar with over the months they’ve known each other. “No, it’s okay,” he says at last, quietly, like he’s telling a secret he’s afraid might be overheard. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”
Shou grins and tries not to let show how pleased he feels at getting Ritsu’s permission, letting his hands fall back stop Ritsu’s wing almost experimentally. He can feel the way Ritsu shifts and fidgets under his touch before he finds a comfortable position and wills himself to be still. When he does stop moving, Shou runs his fingers through the feathers across his lap, combing out loose ones into a pile at his side and straightening the ones that have fallen out of their usual place since the last time Ritsu preened them. The feathers are soft and pliant under his fingers, and as he systematically smooths them beneath his palms he feel Ritsu relax incrementally at his side.
Shou works for several minutes, letting his thoughts wander as he pleases while he diverts his constant restlessness into the careful task. When he finally turns to take a look at his friends face, he notes that Ritsu’s eyes have fallen closed once more, his face returning to that serene, peaceful look that Shou has grown to appreciate more and more as the days go by. He combs his fingers rhythmically through Ritsu’s feathers and watches his breathing even out until he’s certain he must be fast asleep. Ritsu’s breathing comes slow and quiet, even more so than before, and he doesn’t twitch or fidget in response to Shou’s touch anymore.
Smiling, Shou leans his head back against the trunk of the birch tree and lets his eyes rest for a moment as well, feeling pleasantly warm and secure under Ritsu’s wing in the quiet of the open fields outside the little wooden house. The calm of the moment falls over him like a thick wool blanket, cradling him in its warmth and weighing down his limbs in a familiar way. It isn’t long before he’s fighting sleep himself, the only thing keeping him awake being the repetitive motion of his fingers in Ritsu’s soft plumage.
They sit like this for a long while, until the sun begins to disappear behind the trees on the horizon and set behind the mountains beyond. It’s only then that Shou decides that it’s time he heads home, lest he get caught in the forest in the dark on his way back.
He shifts himself out from under Ritsu’s wing, surprised when even that doesn’t wake the dark-haired boy up. Ritsu tends to be a light sleeper from what he’s seen, but he’s out like a light now, his mouth half-open and his bangs hanging into his eyes, unhindered by the breezeless air around him. He looks so comfortable, in fact, that Shou hesitates to wake him, not wanting to disturb this tentative moment.
He crouches at Ritsu’s side for a moment, considering his options. He could try his luck and wait to see how long Ritsu sleeps, but if he gets stuck out here after dark it’ll be troublesome for both of them. Waking Ritsu would make the most sense, but if he can find another way, he’d prefer it to having to shatter Ritsu’s rare peace.
I wonder if I can… Shou thinks to himself, wedging one arm under Ritsu’s shoulders as carefully as he can and looping the other under his knees. Physically, Shou knows he can probably carry Ritsu without much issue--his work as a farmhand keeps him in good shape, after all--but he isn’t expecting just how light he is. For someone who’s taller, if skinner, than Shou, he’s far lighter than he appears, even with the addition of his bulky wings. His head tips back against Shou’s shoulder as the redhead pushes himself to his feet with a soft grunt and starts to walk toward the house, dark wings hanging limply and brushing against Shou’s legs with each step. The hair on his head tickles Shou’s neck and chin when he shifts instinctively closer in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake, even as Shou eases him through the house’s open front door and makes his way toward his neatly-made bed.
He gently lays Ritsu down on the bed and unfolds the colorful afghan at the foot of it, suppressing a chuckle of amusement as Ritsu rolls onto his side almost instinctively and curls his legs into himself, his arms held close to his chest. If he wakes up, he does so only briefly before he falls back asleep, his soft breathing barely audible in the quiet of the house.
Shou leans down and drapes the afghan over him, tucking it around his shoulders so he can sleep more comfortably, and perches himself on the edge of the bed for a moment. Then, as an afterthought, he stretches out a hand and runs his fingers once through Ritsu’s bangs, brushing strands of soft black hair out of his face with a gentleness reserved just for him, in this moment. His hair is thin and soft, “Sleep well,” he murmurs, even though he knows that Ritsu can’t hear him and will likely never know he’s said it. His gaze drifts to the untouched bed on the opposite side of the room, the empty shelves and drawers that had once belonged to a beloved brother, and he wonders how long it’s been since Ritsu’s had someone he can rely on. Not long, he hopes, as he pushes himself to his feet once more and gathers up his things in preparation to head home.