TREES AND TRUTHS

He watched from a nearby perch as Mito alternated between swearing impotently at the pond and glaring unrelentingly at the tree he was hidden in. She shouldn't be able to sense him, so it was pure coincidence. Had to be.

Awkward, Ging reflected, shrouded by leaves. His cousin had slapped him harder than anyone in recorded history then run out into the forest. His grandmother, though accepting as he'd hoped, had been more stoic than he remembered. But it was done. He'd dropped off Gon, as promised, and until the boat came, he had some time to kill—

A click of needles startled him out his thoughts. He swivelled around to see Abe calmly perched on the end of the branch, completing a row of stitches.

"Who is she, Ging?" Though soft, her tone brooked no argument, prompting her reckless grandson to pick his jaw up off the floor and scramble together a coherent sentence.

"Is Gon in there alone?"

Barely suppressing an eyeroll, she turned her back to reveal the slumbering infant before lowering her needles and repeating the question: "Who is she?"

Ging swallowed uneasily. "We met on a mission. She ... was the mission. It's complicated."

Abe's brow furrowed. "And she agreed for you to keep Gon?"

He bowed his head, acknowledging the barb. "It was her request. Specifically." He looked at his grandmother, hazel eyes sincere. "I'm an explorer, not a … child thief."

The rhythmic tap of knitting needles stopped abruptly as the old woman raised her head, piercing him with her sharp gaze. "Don't you lie to me, Ging Freecss."

"I'm not!" The unguarded yelp that sprang from her grandson's lips was proof positive that he was, in fact, telling some kind of truth. She chuckled in response, dusting off her apron.

"Well, whoever she is, I respect her. She's humbled you." Ging's red face deepened a shade as she casually added, "A powerful woman. If only your poor cousin could realise how easy you are to break."

He leant against the trunk, suppressing a groan and wishing his headdress could cover his entire face. Accountability, responsibility, awkwardness: all his least favourite emotions had gathered to throw him a welcome party. Abe briefly wished she had a camera to hand.

Instead, she gathered up her knitting and delivered the final verdict.

"All right, enough. The child stays. I won't let you break Mito's heart again."

He opened his mouth then closed it again, letting the apology go unsaid. It carried haltingly on the wind whipping through the foliage before soundlessly dissipating into the twilight.

Abe interrupted his reverie. "Do you have anything for the boy?" He nodded rapidly, pulling out a small, intricate box and a cassette tape from the folds of his clothes.

Oh, Mito. Look what you almost made him forget. She eyed the offerings with wry amusement. "Very child-friendly." Her skilful hands made quick work of them, pocketing them swiftly.

"Now. For Mito's sake, you can't come back here." Sharp eyes locked with his, a thousand silent threats exchanged. "Understand?"

He nodded solemnly, making a small sound of acknowledgement. "Mm."

She rose to her feet, face unreadable. "Off with you." Make me proud, went unspoken.

A rustle of leaves marked their parting.