[Fanfic, 100% OJ] Balcony

Genre: Slice of Life

Words: 2464

B/D: Not super sure about this one, but then I went ahead and wrote a companion piece for it (which I'll post in another day or two), so I guess I've gotta post it anyway.

Nath’s day began with with a knock at her balcony door, and as soon as she heard it she took the opportunity to swear ferociously into her pillow. Her alarm clock read 5:26 am. She was warm, fresh out of a dream which she couldn’t remember but which she was sure had been happy, and now she would have to forsake the comfort of her bed to put on some arms and some clothes and some coffee. That was her fate, but it wasn’t the fate she had asked for.

Worst of all, she thought as she hauled herself upright, the one knocking wasn’t Sora.

To begin with, she had never known Sora to visit or call while she was asleep. It was always ten minutes after she woke up, or half an hour before she went to sleep. How the girl had sussed out her sleep schedule – which was a bit more fluid than she really wanted lately anyway – so accurately was a mystery to her. Her gut feeling was that it involved the cat, although she had no idea how. But in the absence of a scientific explanation, the cat was the most plausible cause.

Secondly, the knocking was not Sora’s knock. This knocker, whomever they might be, knocked with a polite little tap, very regular and measured. Sora’s knock was a little heavier – two sharp taps, a pause, and then a third, softer knock, as though she had gotten distracted halfway through.

When she finally shuffled out of her bedroom, it was Hime’s face beaming at her.

Of course it was Hime. Who else would show up at five o’ clock in the morning, knocking at the door of a top floor balcony apartment, when she was supposedly away on a trip halfway around the world? Who else would have the sheer brazenness? She sighed, very deeply. There was one, final reason why her visitor could never have been Sora.

“It’s unlocked,” she grunted.

“Oh, marvellous. It’s quite cold out here,” Hime replied, sliding the door open easily and letting herself in as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “It’s lovely to see you, Nath. You’re looking quite well. I hope I didn’t wake you up?”

“You did,” Nath scowled, and she continued to scowl until she realised that she was wasting her time. Being angry at Hime was didn’t really accomplish anything, because glares, scowls and even insults slid off that girl like butter out of a non-stick pan. “I thought you were on a trip?”

“I was, and now I’m back. Or almost back, at any rate.” She smiled wanly, and dropped to her knees to pay her respects to the cat. “And this fine gentleman must be Roger. I saw him briefly before the trip, but he is quite handsome.”

Nath would not, necessarily, have called her cat handsome. Cuddly, certainly. Fluffy? Of course. But handsome? She wasn’t sure. The cat certainly seemed to appreciate the compliment, though, getting up and giving Hime’s hand a friendly nuzzle. Nath smiled to herself; it had not escaped her that Roger was more personable than she was. It also hadn’t escaped her that having a cat was a fantastic conversation starter, provided your entire social circle was made up of impossibly ancient girls who were delighted by cats. Which hers, of course, was.

“So. What’s your reason for waking me up? I don’t mind the company, but your house isn’t too far from here.”

Hime stood back up, and this time Nath saw that her smile was a little wan, and there were dark, puffy circles beginning to blossom under her eyes. Her posture was still graceful, and she still had her light, dancer’s step when she moved, but there was definitely a lethargy about her. “Ah, yes. Well. I was hoping I might use the facilities. I flew through the night, and I’m sure I look… past my best, shall we say. I’d just like to freshen up before I fly home.”

Nath was silent for a moment, combing her mind for the right words. Roger purred. Roger always purred. “Uh… you know it doesn’t matter, right? Those two won’t care if you look a little raggedy.” She frowned again. Why was it so much easier to be sarcastic than it was to be nice? “I’m pretty sure they’d love you even at your worst.”

Hime giggled, in a way that was too light and refreshing to be malicious. “Well, of course. They’re my precious family, after all. But I still like to show them my best side, so a little bit of preening doesn’t go amiss. Besides, I have my own vanity to satisfy. When I look good, I feel good. I’m sure you understand.” Her eyes had a sly glint to them. “After all, you do the same thing whenever you go out to meet Sora, don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Nath said, with an almost exaggerated lightness. “Do I?”

“Ah… ahaha… ha. Well, at any rate, if you can just let me borrow your bathroom for a few minutes, I’ll spruce myself up and be on my way back home.”

“…Don’t be an idiot,” Nath replied, more gruffly than she actually felt. “I’ll make you up a bed and you can catch a nap. Use the shower if you want as well. Plenty of clean towels. Did you eat?”

“I had a bag of marshmallows on the way back.”

“That’s a no, then. I hope you’re alright with toast. Do you want some hot chocolate?”

“Oh, I wish you’d asked me that a few hours ago when I still had some marshmallows. But yes, I’d love some. Or a coffee might be nice.”

“I can’t just caffeinate you and set you loose on other people. I’m a responsible adult.”

Hime hummed, as if she wasn’t quite sure that was the case, but sat down by the coffee table anyway. Her shoulders sagged a little when she did. It seemed… uncharacteristic of her, somehow. How much energy, Nath wondered, did Hime put into seeming like she was always cheerful, energetic, invincible? How often did she feel like she did now, and just not show it?

Saying nothing, Nath shifted her gaze to the toaster, and kept it there. Somehow, it felt like the right thing to do.

“Ah, speaking of responsible adults, have you been taking care of Sora and Suguri for me?”

“They’re the two most dangerous women in the world right now. They don’t need taking care of.”

“Not in a fight, perhaps. But everybody needs a little bit of taking care of, I think.”

Nath paused to consider. “Well… maybe. From what I can tell, Suguri’s been doing the cooking.”

“Oh,” Hime murmured. “Oh dear. Have you any idea why? Not that I don’t think Suguri could cook, if she took the time to learn, but… well… Everybody has a weakness, I suppose. I rather thought Sora would do the cooking – she’s not a remarkable chef, but her food is perfectly acceptable.”

“Her sandwiches are good. Very fortifying when you’re sick,” Nath replied impassively. “From what I can tell, they’re living mostly on bread. I’ve been making sure Sora gets some decent food every time I’ve seen her, and I’m sure Sham has too, but I’m not sure how Suguri’s doing.”

The toaster popped up, and the sound it made was probably a good analogue for Hime’s patience.

“Aha. Well. I see I shall have to be more deliberate in my instructions when I next take a trip,” she said, and there was a tightness to her voice that warned there would be repercussions when she got home. “Oh well. I’m tempted to fly back right now and save them from themselves, but they’re survived without me for ten thousand years. They’ll no doubt live through half a day more.”

“No doubt,” Nath agreed. She took a moment to focus on buttering the toast. Right after she got her prosthetics, she remembered buying and buttering an entire loaf, delighted by how easy it was. People with hands didn’t know how good they had it.

“So, are you not going to ask me what my trip was about?”

“No. If you wanted anyone to know, you’d have told Suguri in your note.” She put two rounds of toast on a plate and slid it across the coffee table, flicking the kettle on as she went.

“Oh, boo. You make it so hard to tease you.”

“It’s intentional.” She paused. “…I do kind of admire that, though.”

“Mmpf?” Hime asked through a mouthful of toast.

“You and Suguri. You can leave on a trip with no warning, without saying where you’re going or what you’re doing, and she just trusts you with it. That’s rare.”

Hime smiled, bright and wide, as if she had been paid a rare compliment that she didn’t quite know how to accept. As tired as her face looked, it was a little brighter with a splash of red on her cheeks.

“Well, you know,” she giggled. “She knows me, and knows that I’ve become just a little selfish with age… A little like your cat, I suppose. I’ll go out and about and do my own thing, but at the end of the day, I know where my home is, and who my family are. She knows I’ll be back for her before long.”

Nath raised an eyebrow. She used to think of cats as being independent, their eyes glinting in the darkness, always venturing out on the prowl. That was before she had one. Then she discovered that actually a cat is a complex organism that Mother Nature designed to sleep on any horizontal surface, try to play with your clothes while you were getting dressed, and watch you endlessly from corners as if you were the most interesting thing on the planet. Roger usually looked at her not with adoration, but a kind of baffled wonder that she existed at all. In that sense he was an upgrade from Sora, who often looked baffled or wondrous but rarely both at the same time.

There was, also, one more thing that cats did.

“A cat, hm?” She paused, exaggeratedly. Hime looked at her, searching her face for emotion. Out of her family, she was definitely the social one. “Do you steal people’s toast as well?”

Hime looked at her, her mouth a soft ‘o’, but before she could process it Roger had already slunk up to the table and whisked away a slice of toast, carrying it briskly away in his teeth and dropping it in the corner to enjoy it at his leisure.

“Wha – he – I was going to eat that!” she gasped. And then, slowly, inescapably, she rounded on Nath. “You were distracting him for me, weren’t you?”

“Absolutely. He’s my cat. I should support him in all his endeavours.”

Hime assumed a pout, but quickly discarded it. It was well known that Nath had pout-deflecting crumple zones; they simply had no effect. It was like firing a nerf gun at a battleship. “Yes, well. I’m your guest. Is it really good manners to assist your cat in bamboozling me?”

“I’m just being practical. I’ve got to live with you for the next few hours, but I have to live with him for the rest of his life.”

Hime sighed, and gave the point up as lost. Although, she thought slyly, it might well have been a different story if she had been just a little taller, and her hair was longer, and she was a recently awakened ten thousand year old super soldier with a thought process that could only sparingly be described as cogent. That said, stealing food from Sora was a capital offense, punishable by laser, and she didn’t know if even a cat like Roger could escape the fires of Sora’s justice. She took it very seriously, bless her.

“Well, speaking of guests, you’re more than welcome to come with me when I head home,” she said. “I’d be delighted to repay your hospitality.”

Nath’s shoulders stiffened. “Probably… not a great idea. She said she was having Sham over today.”

Hime leaned forward, her expression softening. “You don’t get along?”

“It’s not that.” She paused for a second, wondering how much she could reveal. “I just don’t feel comfortable around her yet, I guess.”

“Well, you aren’t going to get comfortable by avoiding her, you know.” Hime’s smile was gentle, even a little bit motherly. She had so many smiles, but they were all honest. She didn’t use them as a shield. Compared to that, Sham –

“I know. But I’d rather give her some time with Sora. I’ve had her to myself for the last year or so.”

Nath’s brow was furrowed, but her voice was firm. Hime sighed. Everyone from that era seemed to have a horrendous stubborn streak. “Well, I can’t force you. But it seems a shame. I’m sure Sora would rather her friends come and have fun with her, rather than worry about silly interpersonal politics.”

“Maybe,” Nath admitted. “I forgot to make you your hot chocolate. I’ll boil the kettle again.”

It was a clumsy change of subject, and she knew it. But it was that clumsiness that made her wary of Sham. She had gotten too used to dealing with straightforward kinds of people, and the idol had something bubbling away under the surface. Half-baked overtures of friendship might make the whole situation worse.

Hime still seemed to want to argue the point, but had enough social graces to thank Nath for her hospitality, slurp her hot chocolate with unvarnished satisfaction, and retreat quietly to camp bed that had been set up for her. Even with her prosthetics, Nath could set up a camp bed with graceful, fluid motions. She’d had a lot of practice since Sora came back into her life. She watched Hime go, and sat back down at the coffee table.

“Hey,” she asked the cat, quietly enough that even Hime’s sharp ears wouldn’t hear. “What do you think?”

Roger said nothing, and jumped up on the coffee table to lick her eyebrows.

“I know, I know. You’re a cat. It’s not like your advice would have been good anyway,” she said, and scratched him under the chin.

The cat purred, because he always purred, and she laid back on her cushion to think. It was such a silly dilemma to have, she thought. Her eyelids, almost by themselves, began to close. The cat continued to purr. Time continued to move.

When she woke up, the cat had retreated to his nest of cushions in the corner. Hime was nowhere to be found. And her apartment seemed as still as the grave.

A/N: blah