Work Text:
Mori remembers -
- nearly breaking his neck three times a day because there’s no point in creating something predictable and these are the consequences, in addition to which he ends up giving up on both baking and knitting because it’s impossible and why would anyone choose to inflict this kind of animal on themself? (people are so odd and illogical and easy to arrange)
- the bone-weary exhaustion of dealing with unbridled enthusiasm and loyalty and feeling obliged to play fetch and go out for a walk even when it’s raining (and it rains so often in England)
- and it’s not about company, really: he’ll get Thaniel for that, some years from now, and yesterday, and quite likely tomorrow again as well; all he has to do until then is hang in there, keep his eyes on the end goal; he doesn’t need a pet to deal with that, to offer fake, clockwork affection; it’s only a desire, a weakness, a moment’s stumble during which everything seems hopeless and all he wants is a hug.
(The memory of Katsu slips into his head like a dream, clearer even than any memory he’s ever had of Thaniel, his Thaniel, and Mori wakes smiling.)