Work Text:
The only thing reassuring about the blizzard raging outside their cabin window, Pokkle reasoned, was that no one in their right mind would be out traveling. Abominable Yorbian snowbeasts included.
"Are you still sulking?" Ponzu glanced over her shoulder from the fireplace as she tossed in another log. "There'll always be another chance to hunt tomorrow."
"I'm not sulking," Pokkle muttered, though his fingers drummed restlessly against his bow slung across his lap. The creature's tracks had been so fresh. Just a few more hours and he might have...
The cabin had been a stroke of luck to come across after a treacherous chase down a mountain, one that left his shoulder throbbing. Ponzu's traps were enough to slow the beast down, but neither of them had bargained for a drowsy snowbeast setting off an avalanche. They were lucky to be alive. And as for the beast, it had probably rolled off somewhere to doze away the effects of the sleeping gas until it could make its way back to its nest.
He shook his head. "Just wondering if I did the right thing, turning Balda down."
"So you are sulking."
Pokkle opened his mouth to protest, but Ponzu turned around and raised an eyebrow. He snapped his mouth shut and shrugged.
She shook her head. "His plan wasn't very practical. Besides, unlike chasing after a rumor, isn't it more gratifying knowing the Yorbian snowbeast is real? We saw it! You wouldn't have gotten action like this if you'd taken up the offer to enter the NGL instead."
She stood up and wiped her hands on her trousers, brushing away soot. A smile flashed across her lips as she looked at him, but it disappeared too fast for him to be sure.
"Yeah, well I'm not really hunting much of anything right now."
"To your credit, neither is the snowbeast."
Pokkle snorted. She had a point.
He sighed and set his bow and arrows aside. "I guess we'll never know what we missed out on."
Ponzu gave him a wry look. "That's not like you."
Pokkle didn't answer. It was hard not to let his thoughts wander, stuck in a cramped cabin with a storm roaring outside. He watched as Ponzu rummaged through her pack before removing her hat and shaking her hair loose. She cradled it in her hands, peering inside with a little smile, humming. Most people would probably assume the tune meant nothing. Pokkle knew better. Or rather, he liked to imagine he did and told himself it was her way of 'talking' to her bees.
"Are they...going to be okay?" He gestured toward her hat. "In this cold, I mean."
Ponzu settled beside him, cross-legged, still cradling her hat. "They'll be fine. Bees are surprisingly resilient. They cluster together for warmth. Kind of like what we should be doing right now, instead of you brooding in the corner."
His face felt warm. He blamed it on proximity to the fire.
"I'm not brooding," he said automatically, then caught her knowing look. "Okay, maybe a little. It's just – the NGL thing seemed important. Like something big was happening there. And instead I dragged us up here because..."
"This is still plenty important. The village at the foot of the mountain will be safe once we catch back up to the beast tomorrow. Sitting out the storm was the practical choice."
"I guess."
She frowned. "Is that what's bothering you? Because we didn't follow after it?"
"No."
"Because if it is, I assure you that dose I gave it should knock it out for a couple days. All that's left is following its tracks back to wherever he's holed back up."
"No, that's not it."
Ponzu studied him, silent for a moment, her expression inscrutable. Safe, cautious Pokkle. He knew the impression he gave. Knew others thought him boring and over-analytical. Not like Ponzu.
"What is it, then?"
He stared at the fire, trying to work up his nerve. If he kept it inside much longer, the words would fester like poison and eat him up.
But then again, Ponzu knew poisons just as well as he did, if not better.
She set aside her hat before rising back to her feet. Now she was puttering and poking through the cabin. Maybe it was to coax information out of him during the long stretch of silence, or maybe she'd simply grown weary waiting for an answer.
"Hm hm...Where could it be...?"
"If you're looking for a blanket, we should share. Conserve body heat and all that."
He winced as soon as the words were out. That was probably the dumbest thing he could have said, but it was too late to take it back. So much for cautious.
But Ponzu took it all in stride, like it was the most obvious thing to suggest. "I actually found one already! Just give me a minute—"
A soft weight landed on his head, cutting off his apology. He tugged it off his face and glanced down, holding a thick wool blanket. Pokkle let his palms idly smooth across the faded zigzag pattern before settling it onto his lap. Between each stripe someone stitched a row of marching foxbears with little smiles. At least someone was happy.
Ponzu took advantage of the interruption and pressed something warm into his hands.
"Tea."
Pokkle glanced down. His own watery reflection stared back up at him from a mug, half-obscured by a warm cloud of steam and a buttery honey scent.
"To warm us up from the inside out. Cheers!" She clinked her cup against his and took a sip with a content sigh.
Heat seeped into his fingers. "This a new one?"
"Different blend today. Honey is healing. Especially after a long, cold trek."
She took another sip and hummed that same little buzzy tune with her eyes closed.
He'd seen her do this so many times before. They were three weeks into their trek up the mountain after all, and tea was simply part of her evening ritual. But tonight the familiar sight struck him differently. The crackling firelight danced across her skin, highlighting the curve of her cheek and the tip of her nose. He found himself overcome with the sudden urge to brush a stray strand of hair from her forehead. Maybe it was just the novelty of seeing her without her hat. Pokkle decided he liked her hair wavy and unkempt, and felt a bizarre rush of envy at her hatfull of bees for having the privilege to enjoy it regularly.
He also suddenly realized that he was staring.
Ponzu cracked an eye open. "Well? When are you going to tell me?"
"Tell you what?"
She tugged at the blanket. "The thing that's bothering you."
He hesitated.
She took another sip. "Don't tell me the tea didn't help?"
"W-what?! What's that supposed to mean? You didn't spike it, did you?"
"What do you take me for!? As if I have any to spare."
"No, wait – did you want me to spill my secrets after a few drinks?!"
"It's honeysuckle tea, not hard liquor!"
"Still!"
She set her mug down and fixed him with an expectant look. Even her nearby hat seemed to emanate a menacing aura. Pokkle half-expected Ponzu's bees to swarm him in retaliation.
"And while we're at it, you might as well tell me why you've decided to eschew your Nen arrows." Ponzu's eyes turned down to his bow. "Is something wrong?"
"No," he said automatically, but his hand went instinctively to his bow.
"Really. Then why the sudden change of heart? The last time we hunted together, you were so proud of being able to use the technique. I remember how you showed me. I thought it was amazing."
His ears burned. "You did?"
"Of course I did." Ponzu's voice softened. Even she seemed a little shy with how passionate her declaration had sounded. "And a good Hunter doesn't just shelve a powerful technique out of nowhere. I don't need my license to know that."
Pokkle didn't look away, though it was tempting. His eyes locked on hers and he held his breath. He couldn't afford to misread her signals. But it was impossible not to notice the slight pink hue staining her cheeks.
"Okay, so maybe..." His words died in his throat and he had to start over. "It's just...Isn't that what you had to do?"
"Huh?"
"They're your partners," he muttered. "Like my bow. It wouldn't be right, asking you to risk them."
"Oh."
He chanced a glance up at her and was surprised to see her face had turned a deep scarlet.
"You're worried about my bees? Because of the cold?"
"Well, yeah. Aren't you? I mean, they're your friends, aren't they?"
"Of course, but..." The way she bit her lip sent his stomach tumbling. "Wait, so all that talk about the NGL—"
"If I'd just accepted Balda's offer, we wouldn't be out here in the snow, and you could use your bees without having to worry about keeping them warm. We wouldn't have to go hunting for Yorbian snowbeasts—"
"Wait, stop, stop, stop. Let me get this straight. You're upset because you think you've put my bees in harm's way?"
"They're not just any bees. They're your bees."
"Right. And you're not just any Hunter." Her voice dropped. "You're Pokkle. You know I trust you. You've been there for me before." She hesitated, and for a moment he thought he saw a flicker of uncertainty in her expression. "I'll follow you wherever you go."
The quiet way she said it, her eyes hopeful and catching the firelight, made him feel a little lightheaded.
"Right," he repeated dumbly.
Ponzu reached out, her hand hesitating for the briefest moment, before brushing aside a lock of his hair. Pokkle swallowed.
"They're actually quite clever about staying warm. Bees cluster together in a ball and take turns moving from the outside to the center. The ones on the outside act like a living insulation." Ponzu demonstrated by wrapping her arms around him, and his heart pounded at the contact.
"A-ah."
She tilted her head to the side, her face only inches away. "They can maintain the center of the cluster at about ninety-five degrees, even in freezing weather." Her smile was small. "They're resourceful. Like someone else I know."
He cleared his throat, but his voice still came out rough. "Is that so?"
Ponzu squinted at him. "Did you seriously just give yourself an intentional handicap because I wasn't using my bees?"
"Hey now, I wouldn't call using my actual bow a handicap. It's what I trained with first."
She was definitely pouting now. That was new. He'd seen her angry, determined, disappointed, and even a bit devious. But he'd never experienced this particular expression aimed at him before. It was unfair how cute she looked.
"I'm not some damsel in distress, Pokkle. I know my limits. They're not children. They're my partners."
"I know."
"Then what was the point of holding back?"
His eyes darted down to her lips and back up again. His throat felt dry. He blamed the tea. "Because..." He cleared his throat again. "It doesn't feel right, being the only one with an advantage."
Ponzu made a small, exasperated noise. "Who says you would be? You do realize I'm already infusing them with my aura. Which...can keep them warm. Obviously."
"I..."
He didn't know what to say to that. He hadn't even considered it. It was one thing to know a technique, and another to think through all its applications. His ears burned even hotter.
'That's my Ponzu. She'll pass this year's exam in no time.'
Just when had she gotten to be so resourceful? And when had he started thinking of her as his?
"So...!" Ponzu plucked his own hat off and gave Pokkle's hair a good-natured ruffle. "All this sulking was for nothing?"
"Still not sulking."
"Okay, fine. All this... 'brooding' was for nothing?"
"Maybe a little."
Ponzu's fingers curled around the blanket. "And here I figured you were just moping because we missed out on some grand adventure in the NGL." She leaned in closer, pressing her cheek to his.
"Is it really so hard to believe that I'd be worried about you?" he said, voice thick.
She hesitated, then pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. "You're a little dense sometimes, you know that?"
"What? But—"
"You hold back. You think you're being chivalrous, but all you're doing is telling me you don't trust me to pull my own weight."
"I trust you!"
"Then trust that I can decide what's an acceptable risk for my partners. And for myself."
She didn't give him a chance to respond before she leaned in and captured his lips in a kiss.
It wasn't the kind of kiss that happened in the movies. It was soft and uncertain. The way two friends might kiss, if they'd both been thinking about it and wanted to do more, but didn't want to mess things up by being the first to make a move.
Which was pretty much exactly what was happening.
He wasn't sure who broke away first, probably him. It took Pokkle a moment to realize that his hands were still tangled in her hair. He didn't even remember doing it.
"Uh."
"Right."
Pokkle had immediately begun to prepare an apology. But then Ponzu's face broke into a smile, a real, genuine one that made him want to do something foolish, like buy her a house filled with flowers and a thousand bees.
"Okay," she said, sounding relieved. "Okay, we can work with that."
He blinked. "Work with what?"
She gestured between them in a vague motion that somehow encompassed the entire room. "Well, you're not brooding anymore." Her gaze softened, turning thoughtful. "But I am starting to get a little cold."
"Right. Blanket." Pokkle scrambled to open the blanket, nearly getting tangled in it before managing to drape it around them both again.
Ponzu snuggled closer, her shoulder bumping against his. "That's better."
He cleared his throat. "You, uh, you were right. I was worried about your bees." He paused, then added, "And about you."
"I'm glad you worried."
"Good. Because I was doing a lot of it."
"I'm glad for that too."
"Even though it was dumb?"
"Yeah. I mean, if we went to the NGL, we wouldn't be here. Together."
"Yeah. Together." Pokkle glanced over at the fire and grinned. "I guess there's something to be said for the practical choice." His eyes slid back to hers. "For waiting out a storm."
Ponzu's grin matched his own. "I guess there is."
"Bees are surprisingly resilient. They cluster together for warmth."