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It’s not often that Kaoru attends outdoor markets with Kojiro, not when the streets are packed uncomfortably tightly with scoundrels from all walks of life, and the best products to pick from are displayed when the sun is already warming the sky.
Kaoru is never particularly disappointed that he has to miss out, but it’s clear that Kojiro wants him there from the way that he’ll always come home shortly after sunrise, arms full of well-stuffed bags, and he’ll insist on excitedly detailing everything he encountered before finally letting Kaoru tuck into bed.
Occasionally, on evenings like this, when the sun would be setting if it weren’t hidden behind an impenetrable blanket of clouds, Kaoru relents, hooks his arm around Kojiro’s, and allows himself to be led from shop to shop.
Kojiro never stays at his side for long, though, always managing to dart between three booths in the time it takes Kaoru to inspect one. It’s not long before the bags on their arms and shoulders are weighty with goods.
While Kaoru’s heightened senses make him shy away from bustling environments like this, Kojiro’s only aid in his enthusiasm, the large, curved ears atop his head always twisting, nostrils flaring. Kaoru can even hear the muffled thumping of Kojiro’s tail against fabric, where it’s been tucked up into his shirt to keep away from passersby.
Before Kojiro can sneak off to another booth, Kaoru grips his shoulder, digging his sharp nails in just enough to maintain Kojiro’s full attention. “What else did you say you needed? Towels?”
“Nah, nothing in particular. We’re almost done—I just wanna take my time. Actually, hey, are you hungry?”
“No,” Kaoru replies tersely, finding his tolerance for social interaction waning. “I’m getting—”
A wave of movement jostles the crowd around them, and a small woman is shoved into Kaoru’s side, nearly losing her balance. The movement has him almost smacking his face into the overflowing bag she holds in her arms, but he jerks his head away just in time. However, that doesn’t stop him from inhaling the bag’s strong stench, and it burns his nostrils as it claws its way in and down his throat.
He hurriedly backs away, knocking into something solid before hunching forward, hands over his mouth and stomach as he’s overcome with a painful nausea. He wills the feeling to pass, knows he needs to breathe and clear out his sinuses, but he can’t stop himself from sinking his nails into his cheek hard enough to break the skin while he muffles his gagging.
He thinks he can hear the woman’s soft, “Excuse me,” as she scuttles away, but it’s suddenly very hard to pick out any one person from the crowd, the clashes and chatter merging into one persistent roar that makes Kaoru’s head throb. He wonders if anyone would notice if he fell to his knees, or if they would just pass him by, assuming him to be just another inconvenience in their way.
“—oru? Kaoru? Baby, hey, are you okay?”
Kojiro’s claws gently scratch at the back of his neck, grounding him and reminding him that Kojiro’s brick wall of a body is the only reason he’s still standing.
Kaoru moves his hand away from his mouth, tucking his fingers under his nose as he starts to reply, but another bout of nausea has him speechless.
To his credit, Kojiro is an adept problem solver, and the moment he catches that familiar sharp scent in the air, he’s off after it.
“Kojiro,” Kaoru wheezes far too late, stumbling after him. He winces against a sudden gust of air that whips his hair into his face, and he knows by the way the crowd is parting up ahead of him that Kojiro’s tail is free and lashing.
Here we go. Kaoru swears under his breath, steps growing steadier. He’s not far behind Kojiro, and he calls out to him again, but Kojiro’s booming voice drowns him out.
“Hey, you can’t just run into people like that and not apologize,” he says, voice just short of a snarl.
Normally, Kojiro is one of the gentlest werewolves Kaoru’s ever met—he can’t help how broad he is, but instead of squaring his shoulders to intimidate others, he’s more likely to duck his head, relax his ears, and smile. For all the ways Kaoru insults his intelligence and etiquette, he never truly doubts Kojiro’s kind heart.
This side of Kojiro, the one that’s currently looming over someone much smaller than himself with teeth bared and hackles raised, is one Kaoru’s less familiar with. It’s the side of him that’s prepared to viciously protect his mate, the side that tends to only rear its head in emergency situations or near the arrival of a full moon.
Kojiro has been antsier than usual as of late, the moon swelling with each passing day, so perhaps Kaoru shouldn’t be surprised. Still, he finds himself pitying the poor woman before him. Her beady black eyes are wide, worried, and she grips her bag tightly to her chest like a shield that will keep Kojiro at bay. He notes, too, the pointed tips of her ears but can’t otherwise surmise anything about her identity. Whatever the case may be, her discomfort is clear.
“You need to be careful when you’re carrying around something as powerful as garlic—bury it down to help mask the scent,” Kojiro continues, when he doesn’t get a response.
“Kojiro.”
“Do you know what a lungful of garlic can do to a vampire? Do you know how badly that hurts them? Have you ever stuck hot peppers into your eyes? What about inhaling them?” Kojiro’s fists clench at his sides, ears flat against his head and tail hanging low. “It’s cruel, and it’s dangerous. My mate—you could’ve made him sick.”
Kaoru notices the way the woman’s eyes flick nervously to him when Kojiro mentions the word vampire. Though she hasn’t said anything, the lines of her face have hardened, her knuckles going pale from how tightly they’re squeezing her bag.
She’s growing defensive. It’s a look he’s seen before, one that makes his chest clench, and he can tell Kojiro has noticed it, too.
He reaches out suddenly, grabbing the hem of the man’s sweatshirt. “Kojiro—“
“Do—is that why you bought all of this?” If Kojiro wasn’t growling before, he is now, his gravelly voice nearly unrecognizable. “Because of outdated traditions for warding off vampires like they’re, they’re ruthless, heartless monsters, or something?”
Kaoru is acutely aware of how much attention they’re drawing, and the whispers of onlookers reach his ears without his consent.
‘Is she going to be okay? Should we call someone?’
‘What’s a vampire doing out here?’
‘Don’t they hate busy areas? That’s what I heard, anyway.’
‘You don’t think it’s looking to feed, do you? We should go.’
‘I can’t watch this.’
The growing murmur makes the ache in his temples worse, but strangely enough, it’s not difficult to tune them out when Kojiro’s own volume is rising.
Focus on him. One thing at a time.
Letting go of his grip on Kojiro’s shirt, Kaoru strides forward. The woman’s eyes follow his every movement, her hand reaching into her bag as she prepares to defend herself from him. Kojiro’s tail whips furiously in response, nearly knocking Kaoru’s legs out from under him.
“How dare you threaten him. If you do anything to hurt him, I’ll—”
“Kojiro!” Kaoru snaps, hands roughly grabbing the sides of his face, forcing him to look down at his mate. Kojiro’s irises have developed a bright golden shine to them, not unlike Kaoru’s, and he’s practically quaking under Kaoru’s firm touch. He’s listening now, at least, breath caught in surprise, like he had forgotten that Kaoru’s there with him.
Once it’s clear that Kojiro’s waiting for him to say something, Kaoru slides his fingers up, threading them in Kojiro’s coarse green curls. “You need to calm down.”
“But, Kaoru—”
“No,” he interrupts, voice calm and steady. He guides Kojiro’s head down to the crook of his neck, presses his nose against one of the ‘mating bites’ that Kaoru allows him to keep, despite the fact that they don’t have the same effect as bond marks shared between werewolves. Kojiro is comforted by them, and that’s what matters to him right now. Already, he can feel Kojiro nosing against the scar, breath warming his clammy skin as Kojiro slowly exhales.
“We should go home,” he starts again, nails digging sharply into Kojiro’s skin when the man tenses up in his arms. Kojiro relaxes in an instant, and Kaoru follows suit, rewarding him with gentle scratches. He lowers his voice so only Kojiro can hear. “Please, puppy. My headache is getting worse. Will you take me home?”
Kaoru closes his eyes as Kojiro’s arms wrap tightly around him, allowing his mate a moment to catch his breath and reassure himself of Kaoru’s safety.
He tries not to be restless or allow his nerves to make his fingers tremble, but Kaoru knows he’s reached his limit for the day. He’s lucky, though, to have a mate who knows him so well, who can sense Kaoru’s exhaustion, and who instinctively drops everything else in favor of his well being.
Kaoru doesn’t quite remember when Kojiro pulls away, just as he doesn’t remember any parting words they have for their audience. All he knows is the heavy arm around his shoulders that’s guiding him forward as bystanders move back and leave a clear path for them.
“Sorry,” Kojiro murmurs eventually, after they’ve escaped down a less populated street. “I guess I got a little carried away there. I just—I hate people like that. They grow up listening to stupid legends and then think it’s okay to treat you like shit. I can’t stand it.”
Kaoru reaches up and squeezes the hand Kojiro has on his shoulder. “Not everyone has known a vampire for most of their life, Kojiro,” he softly admonishes. “And not all vampires have good intentions. Not all vampires have resources. It’s not…unreasonable for people to get scared. You have no way of knowing how you’d feel if you hadn’t met me. You’ve seen the way other chefs adorn their dining rooms with garlic braids.”
“I would never,” Kojiro hisses, looking hurt at the mere suggestion. “You know I make sure I keep all of that as far away from the dining room as possible, and I only let employees serve customers when they’re cleaned up, and—“
“I know, love.”
“—I’m just saying that I would always care. I just... care about others. It’s not that hard to be considerate.”
Kaoru adjusts one of the bags in his hands, fighting off a frown. He doesn’t have the energy to argue right now, but Kojiro’s obstinance is making it difficult to resist. “Sure—that’s easy enough to say. But what about those who’ve had vampires break into their houses? Kill their animals? Hurt their loved ones? Those actions aren’t necessarily representative of the whole population, of course, but they happen. Perhaps it’s worth some sympathy to those individuals who’ve been shown that they have every right to be scared.”
“Stop it.”
Kaoru sneaks a glance up at Kojiro, immediately noting the tension in his jaw. His eyes have darkened back into their natural warmth, but the smallest slivers of gold linger around the edges, threatening to spread again as Kojiro’s indignation grows.
“They can’t blame you for who you are. They don’t get it. They don’t want to get it.” Kojiro looks away, arm slowly tightening around Kaoru and drawing him closer. “They didn’t see how hard you cried the first time someone ignored your warnings and pressured you into biting them. You didn’t have to feel bad—that fucker got what was coming to him, he attacked you after—and you still… you were crushed. These people just see you as some sort of horror story caricature, and they think it’s okay to hurt you, and you just let them.”
“You know that’s not true. I handle them if I think I need to.”
“I won’t let them do that, though,” Kojiro continues on, stubbornly ignoring his interjection. “Not to you. Not to anyone.”
His hand releases Kaoru, fingers skating along his collarbone until they circle around the shallow divots of his bond mark. The gentle but deliberate touch sends a shiver through Kaoru.
“I made a promise when I left this here, that I would keep you safe, that I wouldn’t let others hurt you, and I stand by that. I’m trying—I’ll never stop trying. But it’s hard when it’s something small, even just the way someone looks at you, and before I can do or say anything, I can already see that pain in your eyes. And I can tell them off until my wolf fully takes over, but it’s too late at that point, you know? I hate it. Feeling useless.”
Kaoru slows to a stop, uncharacteristically unsure of how to respond. He could always brush off his worries and call him an idiot, but the mood doesn’t feel right for that. He wants to call out Kojiro’s hypocrisy, too, knowing that his mate rarely fights back against the crass comments or even physical attacks that he himself receives. But, as many times as he turns the words over in his head, he can’t bring himself to say them.
“The full moon’s still days away and already I’m running my mouth like such a sap,” Kojiro grumbles under his breath, huffing through his nose before he dips down and presses a kiss to the top of Kaoru’s head. He lingers there, taking in Kaoru’s scent. “Love you. Let’s get you home, baby. I’ll get the humidifier running and help you rinse off.”
Kaoru scowls, pushing away from where his head has been resting against Kojiro’s chest. “It wasn’t that bad. I can clean myself up.”
Kojiro pouts at that. “I just wanna take care of you, so let me.”
“I don’t need an untrained mutt to take care of me.”
“Hey, now. I’m not just any mutt,” Kojiro barks out with an annoyed laugh.
Kaoru startles as the bags Kojiro has been holding rattle to the ground, one falling onto its side and spilling fresh produce onto the pavement. “Kojiro, what are you doin-nngh!”
Two broad arms wrap firmly around his waist, lifting him off the ground and into an unbreakable hold.
“I’m your mutt.” Kojiro laughs again, this time more genuine.
Kaoru can’t find it in himself to be legitimately upset, not when Kojiro’s dimpled smile is so captivating, lit only by the distant glow of lamplight.
“‘For better or for worse,’ or something like that. Now, put me down, you oaf.”
“In a minute. I like having you like this.” His strong arms squeeze until something in Kaoru’s back pops, and Kojiro plants a single, sloppy kiss on Kaoru’s cheek before finally setting him back on his feet.
“Get your bags and start walking,” Kaoru tuts, wiping the wetness off of his face with his sleeve, “before I make you carry me the rest of the way.”
“Yes, princess.”
“Make sure you pick up everything that fell out.”
“I got it.”
“And—” Kaoru pauses with the words on his tongue, and Kojiro looks up from where he’s kneeling, a bundle of leeks in hand, “—thank you. For tonight.”
Kojiro’s expression melts in an instant, mild irritation replaced by a small half-smile, his tail wagging shallowly behind him. Kaoru is once again overwhelmed by the sight of him, by the way it fills his chest with the wing-beats of restless moths, and he forces himself to turn and start walking before he does something ridiculous, like take Kojiro’s face in his hands and kiss him breathless then and there.