She wasn't surprised to find him out here again. By now she had grown more accustomed to his disappearances, and she knew he wouldn't be too far.
She wasn't going to bitch this time — instead, she lowered herself down beside him and asked something she was genuinely curious to know: "Why do you sit out here all the time?"
He smiled, but he wasn't looking at her; his gaze was still fixed on the sky as the last vestiges of sunlight dipped below the horizon. "Ya don't ever just want ta be alone with nature?"
Her shoulders lifted in a noncommittal shrug. She hadn't really been alone with nature since she'd left the Makai — she was too busy with other things, almost always in a city where anything nature-y was in short supply. Maybe she missed it, but for the most part she tried not to think about it. She liked her life enough right now to not dwell on what she had done before.
"I think it's grand," he continued, taking her silence as an invitation to fill it with his own voice. "Th'wind blowin' fresh through the trees, an' the way the sky looks all hours o' the day."
He made it sound grand, and she took a moment to glance away from his face and see what he was seeing — the mountains and forests blanketed in mist in the distance, the pastel fire of the sky mottled with sherbet clouds.
"It's beautiful," she agreed softly.
"Ain't it?" He grinned at her. "Now ya know why I'm out here all th'time."
"Can I come with you sometimes?" she asked suddenly. "Like this, I mean. Just to … Sit with nature."
"Ya want to?" He seemed a little surprised by the suggestion. "Don't s'pose I'd mind it none."
She smiled, reaching out a tentative hand to touch his shoulder, and she could feel him tense just briefly before becoming surprisingly still, saying nothing. It was enough inclination for her — she leaned into him then, replacing her hand with her head as her grasp slid down his arm.
"Koto," he said, and she could sense the nerves in his voice. She only hummed in response, turning her head to brush her lips against his skin affectionately. "I really like it here."
"Y-ya do, huh?"
"Yeah." She paused. "I don't really know why. I usually hate being in places that are so quiet."
"A place ain't ever quiet fer me, not when a good wind's blowin' through." She could hear the smile in his voice.
"It's almost like you're never alone, then," she suggested.
"S'cause I ain't. Th'wind's always been there fer me."
The wind had always been a constant for him. Had she ever had something like that in her life? She wanted to say her father, but no — he had left her long ago. All she had was a memory now.
She had been her own constant throughout much of her life. It could be lonely, but she had grown accustomed to lonely — it was easier than scrambling and clinging to others and turning up with nothing in the end.
Lately, though, lonely was a thorn in her side — a reminder that she didn't have everything she wanted.
It must have been nice to have something there, even if it wasn't a person. It was still … Something. He would never be alone, really. He probably didn't really need someone like her in his life.
But she couldn't help but wish to a permanent thing for him, too.
"Hey, Jin?"
He was quiet for just a moment. "Yeah, Koto?"
She wanted to say "Can I?" or "Would you let me?" But in the end, all she said was, "That sounds nice," pressing a soft kiss against his shoulder as she twined her fingers with his.