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Ginko was woken up by a soft tapping against his nose. It was not just something brushing along, it seemed quite insistent, repeating the action. Then something soft pressed against his face for a moment, fur tickling his nose. Reluctantly, still tired, knowing that needed sleep was interrupted, Ginko pried his eyes open.
He had expected to see some forest animal, maybe someone trying to snatch some of his body heat in the chilly morning, but instead, he stared into the face of a one-eyed cat. One that was once again pawing his nose.
Only then did the room around him register. Until now his mind had been too sluggish to notice that the ground under him was suspiciously softer than the forest bed he was sure he went to bed in last night - maybe, probably.
And now that his eyes were open, he saw the wooden ceiling above him, old beams carrying worn planks, a few herbs hanging down from them. A tiny herb-Mushi was clinging onto them. There was something familiar about those beams.
The cat bumped its head against his chin again, distracting him from piecing together his memories of the last night. He pulled one arm free from the blanket over him - a nice feather blanket, not the practical but thin thing he carried around on the road - and carefully started scratching the cat's fur, soothing it.
Then he managed to take in the rest of the room. One wall was lined with wooden drawers, against another stood a low table, filled with papers and inks and smaller jars. The floor was tatami-clad, he was lying on a patched-up futon spread over it. Under a small window stood two potted plants that had seen better days.
He recognized the home, just a second before the owner of it slid the door open and stepped inside.
“Morning,” Adashino grumbled, sleep still clinging to his voice. “You are awake,” he noted.
“Someone had decided it was time for me,” Ginko said, carefully ruffling the fur on the head of the cat. “Since when are you taking in strays?” Ginko asked, nodding towards it again.
Adashino raised an eyebrow at him. “When have I ever not? And the little rascal reminded me of a certain someone.”
Ginko looked at the cat again, unsure if it was the animal lying down on his chest that made him feel a little warmer or the words being said. “Fair,” he answered, but tried to ignore the implications.
“So,” Adashino said, while he knelt down at the low table in the room. “Why did I find you sleeping outside my door last night?”
“Ah,” Ginko suddenly had the urge to scratch his own head. “That. Hm, I am honestly not too sure.”
He tried to stitch together what he remembered from last night, from the last few days, although a lot of the memories were rather clouded - from exhaustion or from some Mushi’s influence?
“I think I was following some Mushi?”
“You think? What kind was it?”
“I can’t say, that’s probably why I was following it.” He probably had been intrigued to know more about it.
“Well, you should rest some more. No investigations out there until those eyebags are at least somewhat lighter again. You look like shit.”
“Charming,” Ginko commented, but Adashino ignored him. Instead, he got up from the table to check the wooden shutters on the window.
“Call for me if it is getting cold, there is supposed to be a storm rolling in later today.”
And with that he left the room again, leaving Ginko with his thoughts.
Memories of his last investigations still evaded him, but he was fairly sure that it had not been anything pressing. So he was confident that it would return to him in time. He stretched his legs and fell back onto the futon again. Might as well catch a little break from travel while he was here, right?
The cat seemed to agree and purred into his chest.
He let himself drift with his thoughts for a moment, watching the little Mushi between the beams again. Ginko always held a special fondness for the little Mushi in Adashino’s home. They were almost docile as if they liked living here. Ginko could understand just all too well. It was not the smell of herbal tea or the tower of old books, no, Adashino had this thing about him that grounded Ginko.
Then Adashino reappeared with some food for them both, a brothy soup he claimed would do good for Ginko. He also had his doctor bag with him and promptly started pestering Ginko about any injuries he might have acquired since last meeting him. This was an old game between them by now, ever since Ginko once had forgotten to tell him about a sprained ankle on one of his visits.
“I am fine, oh dear doctor,” Ginko said, smiling at Adashino despite the fussing. “Really, I was just tired.”
With a huff, he finally sat back down next to him. “I will have to see that myself. Stay?”
“Sure,” Ginko said, but thought ‘for a little bit at least‘.
And it was true, he really had been exhausted. So, most of the day was spent dosing away or reading a little of Adashino’s small, but well-kept selection of books. He drifted in and out of it, vaguely remembering eating a very basic dinner with Adashino, but not talking much during it, for Adashino had to wake him for it.
Then it was suddenly the next morning already and the stray woke him up again, poking against his face as if to check if he was still there with them.
Adashino insisted he stayed at least another night, bluntly pointing out again how tired he still looked.
Unsure what to do with himself, Ginko helped to sort through some new Mushi-related trinkets in Adashino’s shed. He separated likely dupes and real ones and also set aside what might attract some more temperamental Mushi. The more temperamental ones he looked at again, trying to determine if there was any danger for Adashino in keeping them and to see if any of them should be monitored.
But the cold season usually meant that fewer merchants were passing through this village and thus Adashino’s collection of new stuff was managed before noon, even when some tiredness was still clinging to Ginko.
Adashino had left for work, to visit some patients with the flu in the village. His house, which was slowly getting buried by the snow outside, was too silent for Ginko’s liking, and so, after refilling the hearth and giving that stray cat and brief pet, he left for a walk in the village.
There Ginko watched the people crossing his path, some hasting past with busy strides, others just enjoying the fresh snow like he did. He watched a young couple, holding hands to keep them warm - and wondered if he could have been like that in another life. He saw a man dragging his food stall through the street and imagined himself to be that person.
But it was no use dwelling too long on the what-ifs, Ginko decided. As a Mushishi his fate would always be a little different than that of the villagers.
He decided to play just a little pretend anyway, indulging in it just for that day, and started to prepare dinner for Adashino and him, waiting for the other to return home.
When dinner was simmering on the stove, he sat back at the table, watching more snow fall outside. The stray, who had been dancing around his feet while he moved around the small kitchen, took the chance and got comfy in his lap. Ginko welcomed the warmth radiating from the animal and thanked it with another round of pets.
Doing so, his mind wandered again, thinking about Adashino and him, thinking about if he ever could see himself like that here. But then, in the corner of his eye, he saw Mushi, small, little ones, gathering around the potted herbs Adashino tried to grow under the window. And he knew there were more of them there than usual because he was there.
Who knew what else someone like him might attract if he stayed here long-term? He should not risk it, for Adashino’s sake, it would be better if he did not.
But then again, Adashino was not all that well in the time of Ginko’s absence, even Ginko himself knew that. He had not missed how much grief there sometimes was in Adashino's gaze when Ginko was leaving, even back then, when they had not known each other for that long.
And still, this visit had felt different from when they had met in the past when they had at least pretended to be mostly associated with their business, but maybe Ginko should try and stir it back into that direction.
When Adashino came home, Ginko mentioned the dinner deliberately only off-hand, then he tried to put on a business face and mentioned he would have a few trinkets to trade after they finished the food.
Adashino talked about this and that while eating, sharing the news from the village in his frank manner. Ginko always admired how he managed to integrate himself into the daily life here, despite not being the most social person.
If Adashino thought Ginko was even less talkative than usual, he did not mention it.
The Mushi-trinket trade, unfortunately, did not fill nearly as much of the evening as Ginko had hoped, and after they had finished, Adashino insisted they share a cup of sake.
“Ginko,” Adashino said when he handed him his cup. “Why did I find you sleeping outside my door?”
“I was doing some investigations, I was in the area, I was exhausted, but it was too late to wake you up.”
Adashino gave him that look, looking over the rim of his glasses, that Ginko knew meant he was not really buying what Ginko said. Usually, this was reserved for trinket-talk. “How have you been then, really?”
Ginko took a deep sip from his cup, unsure why he had pulled this much of Adashino’s worry on him this time. “Fine, you know the spiel, I should not complain. What about you, hm, Mr. Village-doctor?”
“I am doing well - but if you want me to be honest, I could also be doing better,” Adashino said vaguely and Ginko was already setting up to ask about that instead. But Adashino was faster again.
“I am worried about you, Ginko, I can see how exhausted you are. And I can’t tell yet if you just have worked too much or if this is Mushi related or if you just have not been sleeping well again.”
“Hey, why do you know about this? About my sleep?”
Adashino actually smiled a small smile at that. “Ginko it’s been years since we first met. Of course, I know.” But then his face turned more serious again. “Aren’t you tired of always traveling? Are you not ready to settle down?”
“Ah, you know it’s not that easy for me. You know I can’t just settle like that.”
In fact, Ginko had always felt a little torn about being unable to stay in one place for too long, but never had it torn into him like this. He never had reached for much, content with his simple life of travel, but at that moment, he wished to settle down for a quiet life. A life in which he could try to foster company.
“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just, all the village talks about these days, we had a double wedding here last season.”
Ginko studied Adashino again, trying to imagine him mingling, gossiping with the other village folk. “Have you ever thought about it?”
“Hm?” Adashino sat down his now-empty cup. “Not really, not aside from turning down the village aunties offering their daughters. Why should I?”
“Because,” Ginko said with a played-up wink. “It’s all the village talks about.”
Adashino was looking at him - or maybe the low fire behind him, and only after a while he spoke with sudden somberness. “I have everything I need.”
“But what about everything you want? Don't you sometimes wish for more?” Ginko wondered, drawing patterns into the wood of the table between them.
Adashino looked at him, this time Ginko knew it was directed at him, felt it, felt his gaze heating him more up than the fire behind him. “I think what I have is close enough.”
It was after midnight, and the fire in the room Ginko was staying in had been reduced to small embers gleaming in the night. The snowfall had stopped and the sky was clear, a half-moon stood high in the sky, illuminating the powdered scenery outside.
These travel conditions were good enough for him, Ginko decided. He had already packed his back and rolled up his futon. He had waited for Adashino to go to bed and now had heard no sounds from the other room for the past hour.
It was time, and yet he hesitated. But he had to go at some point, there was no way around it.
The house, the floorboards under his feet creaked when he tried to sneak through the hallway. As if the house itself was protesting. Close to the door, he almost stumbled.
It was the stray that had materialized out of thin air, and who was now dancing around his ankles. He almost stumbled, nearly cursed out loud. But caught himself at the last second, holding himself up against the wooden wall.
Meanwhile the stray meowed in accusation at him, because he had not bent down to pet it yet.
“Shush,” Ginko whispered, while he tried to bend over with his wooded baggage on his back and give it a few pacifying pets. When the stray was sitting down, purring, Ginko swiftly put on his shoes and then tried to carefully, silently to unlock the door. At the first creak of the wood, the stray darted back into the house, probably aware that coldness would storm in at any second now. The sound made him stop for a breath, then he tried again. At the second creak, right before the door opened, Ginko heard another door open in the house.
He froze to throw a look over his shoulder inside the house, while the cold air from outside prickled against the uncovered parts of his skin.
“Ginko?” Ginko heard Adashino’s voice before he fully saw him shuffling down the little hallway between rooms. Adashino’s voice was heavy with sleep. “What are you doing there?”
Ginko did not answer at first, for he was still frozen in mortification from getting caught. “Heading outside,” he said for the lack of anything better to say. He did not look at Adashino while doing so.
“Now? Are you leaving, just like that?”
Ginko briefly thought about telling him some story of some Mushi he wanted to look at outside. But he just did not have it in him to lie at this moment, not when Adashino’s voice was raw like that.
“And if I am?”
“I would tell you that you are a fool and will break your neck wandering into the dark like that. If you have to leave, you have to leave I guess. But do it after sunrise, and close that door. Want some tea?”
After securing the door again, Ginko walked back into the house behind Adashino with his gaze turned down, he still felt either cold or embarrassment heating up his face.
“I get it,” Adashino said, handing Ginko a throw blanket when he was sitting down at the low table. “Goodbyes are not your thing. Or maybe it’s the talking. But I would appreciate it once in a while, you know?”
“What would you like to talk about?”
“Many things, mundane things. But right now, I would like to talk about us. About this thing between us - come on, there is something, I know you feel it too, since that first night we met. Ginko, what are we?”
“I-,” he stopped, saved by the tea kettle whistling. Adashino gave him a stern look that guaranteed they would continue right here in a minute.
When Adashino returned with their tea Ginko was still trying to put his words together.
“I admit I am unsure what to do, that I am afraid to turn what we have into the worse if I poke it too much,” he hesitated. His hands trembled when he picked up the cup of tea to take a breath of the steam to calm his mind. “I appreciate you, Adashino, you have no idea how much I do. But I also know I can’t give you all of me, not in the way one usually does.”
Adashino laid his hands around Ginko’s and made him set down the cup again, so he could hold them fully. “Have you ever, in all these years, considered that you giving it half is enough for me? That I would rather have some of you for me than none at all?” Adashino’s voice was surprisingly gentle and Ginko’s gaze snapped up to his face to see him smiling.
Stumped, Ginko surged forward and kissed him (like they used to, many years ago, once when they had tumbled to bed together after a New Year's celebration). And it was not a small kiss, because as soon as their lips met, inhibition broke and there was a sudden need to make up for years wasted.
When they finally broke apart again, both out of breath and the tea cold and forgotten. Adashino invited him to bed, to catch some more sleep before the sun rose.
And so they did. Ginko was unsure if he ever had a sleep as restful and comfortable as that, and Adashino seemed to share the feeling, as they both stayed in bed well beyond sunrise.
Maybe they had both been wondering for too long if there was something with more, something better to find. But this was what they had, this was where they were now, and maybe, this was much better than nothing at all.
But when the low winter sun shone into their room around noon, and Ginko could see some minuscule Mushi dancing like dust in the sunrays, he knew it truly was time for him to leave. He suspected it might have been the outburst of their feelings that had stirred them into action. They would have to keep an eye on that in the future.
But Ginko was surprised to find himself making plans for his return already.
When he finally was ready to leave and they said their goodbyes, he could not help but turn around one last time to Adashino, taking in how he looked standing in his doorway, wearing his morning robe, holding the stray in his arms so it would not follow Ginko.
“If things were different I would have loved to stay for another cup of tea, another night, until you are sick of me. But it is what it is, and this time, I promise, I will be back before the seasons change again.”