As dusk settled over New York City, the train sped west. Ten-year-old Kiba Inuzuka huddled alone in the first seat of the car reserved especially for orphans on their way to Kansas.
No one had asked him to sit with them. No one had even said hello. They'd only stared at him with empty orphan eyes- eyes that had lost hope long ago.
Snuffling a bit, Kiba rubbed his face. If he was going to start a new life, he had to stop being such a baby. If he was going to survive these few days on the train, he'd better not let any of the wolves smell his fear.
Kiba had lived at St. James orphanage for as long as he could recall. Being small in a world where big was valued and scared when he ought to be brave had brought Kiba more than his share of persecution. Being alone in a world that lived in twos, threes, or more had made him feel bereft when he'd never lost anyone he remembered.
"This is the chance of your lifetime," Sister Maude had told Kiba when she'd brought him to the train station. Despite the assurances of an ancient nun, Kiba had his doubts.
He was most likely exchanging one set of mean-spirited orphans for another, and who knew what awaited him in Kelly Creek, Kansas? Kiba had only the word of Miss Burton, from the Aid Society, that a family waited there hoping for a little boy just like him.
A commotion from the rear of the car made all the children turn about in their seats. Mr. Drake, who, along with Miss Burton, was taking this group of thirty orphans to Kansas where they would be placed out with families, stood next to the last sea in the car. In his hand he held a rope.
"Sit there and cause no trouble, boy." Mr. Drake stared into the darkened corner of the seat. "You agreed to this, and I said you'd be kept away from the children."
Mr. Drake tied one end of the rope to a metal ring on the back wall. Kiba's gaze followed the rope to a shadow much larger than any boy's should be. He could not see the other's features in the graying light from the window.
Most of the children appeared wary. Miss Burton looked downright scared. Who had Mr. Drake tied to the back wall of the train?
The Aid Society worker scowled at them all. "Never mind him. He's confined. Now turn around, each and every one of you." He made a shooing motion. "Peruse the countryside while we still have a bit of light. You won't get another chance like this."
Kiba did as he was told, watching as house after house, street after street, gave way to field after field and river after river. Since the train sped toward the sun, away from the night, he was able to observe for quite a long time. Exhausted, Kiba dozed. Until someone pinched his arm- hard.
He yelped. Snide laughter was his answer. Night threatened, leaving just enough light to distinguish nearby faces. Turning around, Kiba discovered that the two girls in the seat behind him were asleep but the boy across the aisle was not.
"Devil's spawn," he sneered. "Ought to be tossed off the train."
Though probably Kiba's age or younger, the boy was bigger than he. Most everyone was.
Kiba huddled in the corner of his seat. But every time he began to relax and go back to sleep, the horrid boy reach over and pinched his arm, then laughed. Every inch of his poor arm ached.
Kiba searched for Miss Burton or Mr. Drake, but both were gone. The horrible boy now had friends and they had all began to jeer at him.
"Little Devil's helper, go back to hell."
He tried to ignore them. Sometimes that worked. But they only taunted louder. As he continued to say and do nothing, the boys got bolder, pinching his arm and shoving him. Kiba looked to the girls for help but found none. He sighed. No one ever helped him when the bullies came.
They were closing in, and he had to get out. With a cry, Kiba jumped from his seat and ran toward the back of the car, where there was a door, a way out of this torment. He surprised the bad boys enough to get past but not enough to get free.
One of them caught his jacket, another his arm; then they yanked him back. Frantic, Kiba tore away, but someone tripped him. A girl this time, he thought.
Kiba went down face first, bruising his knees, scraping his hands, smacking his chin. He saw stars for a moment. From that fuzzy world came a whisper. Was it God?
"Leave him be."
No, not God. The bad boys would never scramble back to their seats that fast for Him. Perhaps the Devil they spoke of so freely might command them, but then Satan would care nothing for a little boy huddled upon the cold floor of the train car. Not Satan or anyone else, in Kiba's experience.
Kiba lifted his head. His chin stung. So did his hands. There was dirt on his tongue; grit scratched between his teeth. None of that mattered. He stared at the shadows still shrouding the last seat of the train. The only thing visible was the end of a rope securely fastened to the ring on the back wall.
Once the horrible boy realized the mysterious traveler was still bound, he would no doubt sneer at Kiba's protector, just as he has sneered at Kiba. But when Kiba glanced behind him, all the tormentors were sitting in their seats, and the nasty fight had gone out of them. Slowly, he got to his feet and took a step toward the shadowed corner.
"Go back."
The voice that came from the darkness rapidly spreading from the sky outside, through the windows and across the railroad car, was that of a man. Why on earth was a man in the car for orphans?
"They won't bother you again. Will you, boys?"
Heads shook. No one spoke. Who was back there, and why were the others frightened of him?
Kiba didn't want to return to his seat, where he'd been all alone and preyed upon. But the door at the back of the car rattled, and one word shot from the shadows, "Go!"
Kiba ran, reaching his place just as Mr. Drake followed Miss Burton inside. The adults distributed dry bread, which was all they had for supper. The train ride would be short, as such things went, and once in Kansas, food for the orphans would be the problem of their new families.
"Get some sleep, children." Mr. Drake said. "You'll be amazed at the distance we will have traveled come sunrise tomorrow."
He frowned at the last seat, then took an empty one nearer the middle of the car. Miss Burton joined some little girls, perhaps two or three years old, who whimpered in a corner all by themselves.
Kiba tried to sleep, but every time he began to drift, he awoke with a start, fearing the bad boys were sneaking up in the dark to hurt him again.
The darkness within the train was now complete. No lantern for the orphans. No moon to light the sky. The windows shone as black as Sister Maude's habit.
In all of Kiba's life no one had ever defended him. He had rarely felt safe or protected until one miraculous moment on this train. Kiba wanted to feel that way again.
So he crept from his seat. All the children slept. As he inched down the aisle, the sound of Miss Burton's loud snore came from the left, while Mr. Drake's soft wheeze whispered from the right. Another few feet and he reached the last seat in the car, where he hesitated, peering at the blackness that hovered so thick he could only penetrate the gloom by squinting until his eyes watered.
Dark and unkempt, his clothes dirty, torn and far too small for him, his savior had the face of a boy and the body of a man. Even slouched against the wall, Kiba could tell he was huge. His legs disappeared beneath the seat in front of him, and his chest was as wide as the window.
Now that Kiba could see him better, the slight roundness to his chin was the only thing that spoke of youth. Certainly not the straight blade of his nose and the height of his cheekbones, which were as unusual as his long, dark hair. The rope tied about his waist added to the picture of a captured wild thing.
"Are you going to sit down or just stare at me all night long?"
Kiba caught his breath and lifted his gaze from the rope to his savior's light-colored eyes, which shone from his pale face. He was awake! And he could see in the dark like an Indian.
He should run all the way back to his seat and never get up until they kicked him off the train in Kansas. He should be scared of this young man they'd tied to the train, at least as scared as everyone else was.
Instead, a whisper of warmth, like a fire on a snowy winter night, curled through him. Sister Maude always said there were angels everywhere. Maybe this terrifying, fascinating man-boy was his.
o.O.o O.o.O o.O.o O.o.O o.O.o
Shino Aburame blinked when the boy slid in next to him instead of running like a bunny all the way back to his seat. He'd watched him walk down the aisle, and he'd looked more terrified now than when that crazy little brat had knocked him down. Yet still he sat next to him, even inched closer as the silence stretched long.
"Aren't you afraid of me?"
The boy started, and his huge brown eyes touched on his face, then flicked away. "Why would you hurt me now when you were the only one who helped me then?"
Shino stifled a curse. Why had he intervened? In his fifteen yeards he'd seen worse things than what had been happening to the little brunette boy. One of the adults would have shown up and taken care of things. Even knowing that, he had been unable to sit still, say nothing, and he couldn't figure out why.
The child would probably follow him about like a long-eared puppy dog forevermore- or at least for the duration of this trip to his newest jail.
"I'm Kiba. Who're you?"
"Shino Aburame."
"How come-" He broke off, and his large, expressive eyes widened in his pixielike face.
"How come I'm tied up?" Kiba nodded. "Because I should be in jail, but they're sending me to Kansas instead."
Kiba frowned. "Being adopted is like jail?"
"I'm not being adopted. I'm too old. I'll be working until I'm eighteen and able to be on my own again. That was the deal, and I took it."
"Wh-what did you do?"
He stared at the boy for a moment, but the child didn't flinch or back down. In fact, the fear that had been written all over his face when he crept down the aisle was gone. He seemed as comfortable with Shino as anyone ever had been.
A life on the streets and worse had hardened Shino long before his tenth birthday. He'd learned to intimidate with his size and frighten with his glares, and it hadn't hurt that his voice became a man's when he was twelve. He was big, dark, and mean looking even when he didn't try. Folks walked wary of him. No one had ever sat this close to Shino by choice. He had a feeling no one but Kiba ever would.
"I stole something." he admitted.
"Oh-oh." Kiba shook his head. "Thou shalt not."
"I like to eat." Shino snapped.
It could still make him madder than a wet car when he thought about getting caught. He'd never been caught before. Which was one reason he was being given a free ride to hell- more commonly known as Kansas these days.
"I still don't understand why you're tied." Kiba's small fingers toyed with the knot. "Stealing isn't killing, even if they're both shalt nots."
Shino's lips twitched at his simple words. The boy had a way of saying things that cut right to the center of the matter.
"Just for show," he explained. "I could get out of that knot easy."
Not really. When he'd tried earlier, his large hands and clumsy fingers had not been able to budge the thoroughly fastened leash one bit.
"But where will you go?"
"Exactly. I may as well go to Kansas as back to jail."
"If you aren't going to run, then why did they tie you up like a dog?" He sounded as angry about it as Shino was.
Shino shrugged, pretending without thought that this wasn't the most humiliating experience of his life. "Drake promised I wouldn't be allowed near the little ones. But there's only one car for us, so the rope is to keep me away from all you poor orphan children."
Kiba nodded slowly, and his young face suddenly appeared ancient. "They're mean. But you shouldn't be embarrassed. They should be embarrassed for tying you like that."
Shino scowled. No one ever saw through his shrugs and sneers. No one. The only way he could keep going and remain strong was to pretend there were no longer any feelings left beneath his hardening hide.
Kiba patted Shino's arm, and he jerked away. No one ever touched him gently. No one ever touched his at all unless it was to grab him or tie him or put him where he didn't want to be.
Kiba wasn't offended by his desire not to be touched. Instead, he put his little fingers back on the knot and plucked. The sight of his hand, so tiny and dark, only made Shino remember how his fingers, hulking and pale, had fumbled with the knot and gotten nowhere.
"Quit fooling with that." he snapped.
"Oops," Kiba whispered, and his wide, watchful gaze lifted from the free length of rope in his lap to Shino's face.
Quietly, Kiba handed him the tether, laying his hand in Shino's along with it. Shino stared in horror at the boy's tiny fingers resting in his huge paw. One wrong move and he'd snap them like a twig. How on earth had the frailest child in the car ended up sitting with the biggest brute on the train?
Shino turned Kiba's hand in his and found bloody scrapes becoming scabs along his palm. Protectiveness rushed through him- alien but strong- and his fingers clenched Kiba's. Kiba made a soft sound of pain, and Shino pulled away.
He hurt the boy without even trying. Kiba should be terrified of him. Instead, he patted Shino's rough cheek with his tiny, injured hand. The expression in his eyes made him feel strange. No one had ever looked at him as if he were strong and smart, admirable and cherished.
With a gentle sigh, Kiba curled against his side. "G'night, Shino."
Amazed when the child went right to sleep, Shino listened to his soft, steady breathing and tried to figure out what had just happened.
With a single pat on his cheek and one mysterious glance, Kiba had made him feel whole in a place that had always gaped empty and sore.
He had given Shino more than a rope; Kiba had given him his trust. Something no one else ever had. Something he didn't deserve and would no doubt break.
o.O.o O.o.O o.O.o O.o.O o.O.o
A horrified gasp woke Kiba. Miss Burton stood in the aisle, staring at him as if he had done something exceptionally awful. Since he had been sleeping more peacefully and deeply than he'd slept in years, it was hard to wake up, to remember where he was and why.
Then his pillow moved, and everything rushed back, even before Mr. Drake appeared, looking as if he'd swallowed a rotten egg.
"Just what in blazes is going on here, Aburame?" he demanded.
Shino sat up and tried to push Kiba away, but he clung. After a halfhearted attempt to retrieve his arm, he let Kiba stay.
"He was scared of the dark." he said in his flippant I dare you voice.
Mr. Drake's small black eyes narrowed to slits. "Why on earth would be come to you if he was scared?"
Shino tensed. Kiba squeezed his arm and hugged him tighter. It would do neither of them any good for Shino to react to the insult. Kiba had come to him. They knew why. That was all that mattered.
Miss Burton's cry of distress made everyone look her way. "What happened to your chin, Kiba?"
Kiba put his fingers to his face and encountered a scab as big as a ten-dollar gold piece.
"And your hands?" Miss Burton exclaimed.
Kiba glanced at them. More scabs. Silence descended on the rail car.
"We're waiting, young man."
"I-I-" Kiba glanced at the horrible boy. His scowl was a threat with no need of words. Kiba had been the victim of bullies often enough to know that even though they picked on you, you did not pick back.
He returned his attention to Mr. Drake, who was staring at Shino with suspicion. But Miss Burton watched Kiba, and she poked Mr. Drake, then nodded at the horrible boy.
"I tripped!" Kiba blurted. There were certain rules of being the weakest and one of them was that if you snitched, you were in for a whole lot worse than what you'd snitched about.
The adult's gaze swung back to Kiba. "When?" Mr. Drake demanded.
"Yesterday when you were getting our bread."
"Hmm." He looked up the aisle again, then back at Kiba. "Maybe you should go back to your seat, Kiba."
Kiba's lip trembled. He didn't want to be anywhere but with Shino. If he had to go back to his seat, that horrible boy would find some way to hurt him again just because he could. He glanced at Shino and his savior's mouth tightened.
"He stays with me," Shino said, though he didn't sound happy about it.
"What was that?" Mr. Drake murmured.
Shino met his eyes. "If he sits in that seat, he'll end up tripping a lot. If he stays with me, I'll make sure there's no tripping going on."
Mr. Drake lifted the rope that was no longer tied to the wall or to Shino. He raised his eyebrows. "No tripping or any other kind of accidental movements for either of you, am I right, Mr. Aburame?"
Shino dipped his head, managing to appear in charge even when he wasn't. Or maybe he was; Mr. Drake just didn't know it yet.
After another long moment, Mr. Drake pulled the rope from their seat and looped it over his arm. Without another word, he and Miss Burton went to get more bread for breakfast.
Kiba smiled at Shino, but the older boy didn't smile back. Kiba didn't mind. As long as he could be near Shino, he was happy.
He spent the rest of the trip with Shino. He learned he'd been alone all of his life, just like himself. He'd never known his parents just like himself. He'd even been in an orphanage until he'd bravely walked away at the age of ten. He had no idea where he'd been born, where his grandparents had come from, or why no one loved him enough to keep him close.
By the time they neared the border between Missouri and Kansas, Kiba loved Shino enough to stay with him forever.
His surly silences didn't bother the boy. His fearsome glowers made him smile. His size protected the child. His warmth enveloped him. There was nothing about Shino that Kiba did not adore. Though he'd never admit it, Shino needed him, and he planned to be there for him always, as Shino had been there for him when he hadn't even asked.
Kiba tried not to think about what would occur when they reached Kansas and went to separate and equally uncertain futures.
But not thinking about it didn't keep the inevitable from happening.
The train pulled into Kelly Creek, west of Kansas City, as snow began to fall on Christmas Eve.
"Look, children," Miss Burton called, her voice full of false cheer. "We've a Christmas snow to welcome you."
The snowflakes patted the windows, a gentle scritch-scratch. Kiba couldn't take his eyes from them. "They're so big," he murmured. "So perfectly white."
In New York there'd been snow, but by the time the tiny pinpricks of ice reached the ground, they'd gone gray. Once they'd been on the ground more than a minute, the snowflakes turned to black icy slush. Not very welcoming and certainly not Christmasy at all.
"Big flakes make big snowstorms, I hear. You can die in them, Kiba. So have a care."
Kiba tore his gaze from the lacy flakes of snow and fastened it on Shino. In his voice, Kiba heard good-bye, and he was not ready.
"Come along, children," Mr. Drake announced, "Everyone meets their new family here, then you'll travel on together. Bring your things."
As the others hurried outside, Kiba hung back. Once he stepped foot in Kansas, his time with Shino was done.
Shino picked up the boy's small bag. He had none of his own. When he moved into the aisle and bumped in Kiba hovering there, his gaze went from his feet to Kiba's face.
Shino's eyes softened. "Scared?"
Kiba nodded. Scared wasn't the word. More like terrified. Kiba wanted to stay with Shino. With Shino he would always be safe.
Awkwardly, Shino placed his hand on Kiba's shoulder. In only a few days Kiba had figured out that Shino had touched as rarely as he'd been touched, just like himself. And just like Kiba he needed to be touched; he needed to be loved. He needed someone, and so did Kiba.
Shino's hand was so big, and his fingers trailed halfway down Kiba's back, so heavy that he nearly staggered beneath the weight. But the warmth of him seeped through Kiba's thin coat and gave him strength. That they were alone in the rail car, with no one paying them any mind, gave Kiba an idea.
He put his tiny hand on top of Shino's. "Let's run," he whispered.
Confusion flickered in Shino's eyes. "Run?"
"Away. You and me. We don't need anyone else. You can take care of me, and I'll take care of you."
"You're only ten. You don't know what you're talking about."
"I know that I love you."
Shino blinked. Obviously, no one had ever said those words to him before. Just as no one had ever said them to Kiba.
"I can't take care of you. I can't even take care of me. Maybe if we were in New York, maybe. But out here…" He shook his head and stared out the window at the snow, which had begun to stick to the gray-brown grassy ground. "I don't know what's out there, but I do know I'm not ready to risk you in it."
"I don't care."
"I do." Shino turned his back on Kiba and headed for the door.
Kiba's eyes burned, but he wasn't going to give up. Shino was his hero, and he refused to believe that this was the last time he'd ever see him.
"Every year on the night before Christmas I'll be right here. On this platform, in this town. Meet me, Shino."
Shino stopped, turned, and stared at Kiba as if he were mad. "You have no idea where you'll be next year, Kiba, and neither do I."
"That's why it has to be here, don't you see?"
"You two come on out now." Mr. Drakes's voice made them both start, and Shino tuned away again.
Kiba hurried after, grabbing Shino's elbow before he disappeared outside. "Promise me!" he insisted.
This time Shino didn't even look at the child, just tugged his arm free and stepped out the door. Kiba had no choice but to follow.
Kiba's first impression of Kansas was of a land so flat, so cold, and so gray, it could not be real. Frosty air touched his cheeks as the pretty snowflakes scraped his nose. The only warmth in his world was being led away by Mr. Drake.
He willed Shino to look at him one more time. Instead, the crowd swallowed him, and try as he might, Kiba couldn't catch sight of Shino again. The wind blew in Kiba's eyes so hard, icy tears ran down his cheeks.
"There you are!" Miss Burton tugged Kiba from the steps and in the opposite direction from Shino, depositing him in front of an older couple. The man was distinguished and gray, with sharp black eyes and a worried mouth. The woman was frail, pale and gray as well. Kiba was beginning to think Kansas was just gray all around.
"These are your new parents, Kiba. Mr. and Mrs. Robert Kelly."
"K-Kelly. Like Kelly Creek?"
"That's right." Miss Burton beamed as if he'd said the cleverest thing. "Isn't he smart? Mr. Kelly founded this town, and he owns the bank, among other things. You're very lucky, Kiba. Good-bye." And with that Miss Burton left to attend her other charges.
Silence stretched between Kiba and the Kelly's. Kiba glanced around some more for Shino. Kiba wanted him, not them.
"Ahem, well." Kiba returned his attention to the Kellys. Mr. Kelly looked Kiba over from the tip of his dark hair to the toes of his patched shoes. It didn't take long. "We'd better get in the wagon before your mother catches another cold."
Kiba glanced at his "mother." The woman's lips appeared blue in her pale gray face. She was so thin, she swayed in the icy wind. The ghost of a smile she turned on Kiba appeared to exhaust her, and she slumped, allowing her husband to lead her to the waiting wagon.
Kiba had wondered why the Kellys had taken an almost grown boy and not a baby. One sight of his new mother and Kiba understood. Many of the children placed out in truth became servants. Mrs. Kelly needed a servant, not a son. Kiba should have known that no one would truly want him. Not even in Kansas.
He followed the Kellys, then stood on the top step of the wagon, casting one final, desperate look about for Shino. If Kiba saw him, he would swallow his pride and run to him. He would ignore his fear and follow Shino.
Shino's size should have made him easy to spot. Though Kiba saw every other orphan, he found not a trace of Shino. It was as if he'd disappeared- from Kelly Creek, from Kansas, from the earth itself.
Where had he gone? Who had taken him home? Would they love him as much as Kiba did? As much as Shino needed to be loved?
The wind howled out of the west. Snow iced Kiba's hair. He shivered and climbed inside the wagon.
For a few days he'd known warmth and safety; then suddenly it was gone. Maybe he'd find it again with his new parents. But he'd never find what he'd had with Shino.
Shino hadn't promised to come back, but he hadn't said he wouldn't, either. Someday Kiba would be a man; even sooner Shino would be one as well. They would no longer be at the mercy of adults. They could live their own lives, choose their own course.
As the wagon lurched away from Kelly Creek, Kiba made a promise to himself. Next Christmas Eve, he'd be waiting right here. He'd sit on that bench against the train-station wall. Every year he'd be taller, older, more handsome. One day Shino would look at him and love him, too.
Kiba settled into his new life, doing everything he could do to make his new parents love him. But the Kellys had adopted Kiba to replace the ten-year-old son they'd lost to cholera before the war. And nothing, no one, could replace a person loved that deeply. Something Kiba leaned the hard way.
He spent Christmas Eve of 1868 in another snowstorm at the Kelly Creek station.
Christmas Eve, 1869, brought no snow and no Shino.
In 1870 it rained.
In 1871 the grass was still green.
But in 1872 the drifts were so high, Kiba barely made it to town. Barely.
Every year he came. Every year he went home alone. But never once did Kiba give up hope.
Because on Christmas Eve hope was forever reborn.