Non-Verbal Communication
Kambei arrived home before dawn to find only the hallway light on and a half eaten bowl of pre-cooked food on the kitchen counter. Even in the darkness of his home he knew that everything was the same. Nothing else was askew, nothing looked out of place, except for the still full container of food.
"Kyuzo?" he called out to what he knew was not an empty apartment.
The bathroom door was half closed, and there was a thin beam of light coming from inside. Further behind the door was a distinct retching noise, which only lasted for a few short moments. Kambei knocked on the door very gently, pushing the door open, making the hinges squeak. Inwardly, he cringed at the sound breaking the silence.
Kneeling on the floor in dark pants and a long sleeve black shirt was his blond lover, closing the toilet cover to flush it, then leaning her head on the cool surface. She sniffled wetly, raising her shoulders, cradling her head in her arms. Kambei leaned on the doorframe for a moment to let her mind blank from the headache that was brought on by the nausea. Her back was to him in the tiny bathroom, all he could see of her skin was her bare feet and the back of her neck. The thinness of her frame did not suggest the bump on her stomach by seeing her from behind, but he knew it would grow bigger in the next few weeks.
"Are you all right?" he asked gently.
"Yes." She murmured and sniffed. He could hear her breathing over the dull buzz of the fluorescent light.
Pressing the flat of his palm to the back of her neck made her body a bit less tense. She inhaled calmly and raised her head to meet him as she was twisted around. Her arms swung around his neck tightly and she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder, their knees touching a little oddly. Kambei brought her legs up over his lap to press against his ribs.
As he rubbed her back, she inhaled his scent, it made it hard for her to ignore his concern completely. "I feel sick all the time."
"What can I do?"
Nothing, she thought.
Her hands reached around to his opposite shoulder blades, her nails digging in to anchor her. "I want to sleep…"
Kambei nodded, and scooped up her legs in the crook of his arm. She had always been lithe, and even with the growth on her middle she was still immaculately easy to lift. Just a few steps and he sat her down on their double bed.
"Do you want to take anything?"
"No. I'll just throw it up again."
"If you rest, the nausea might go away."
She shot him a look as though she was thinking Duh, Kambei. While he was pulling all-nighters in his study or out on duty, she was sick and she stayed sick all day. If she was not fatigued, she felt queasy, and if she was not queasy, then she was already vomiting.
"I don't know everything about..." he chose his words carefully, but trailed off, trying not to make himself look any more like a fool than he already felt. "But I want to understand how you feel when I tell you that I want to help you,"
"I don't need your help. I never have," she said lowly.
These were words that she said more often, even after she said them to get him out of her city all those months ago, it had never worked. He would help her, and she could barely admit to herself that she needed it somehow.
Kambei's response was a smile.
"How can you help me," her voice oozed only a bit a venom; she was too tired. "When I finally become too bloated and sweaty, you won't find me attractive to stick around for much longer." She murmured the last part as though she didn't honestly believe her own words. All the same, she did not make eye contact with him, her mind in her foul mood trying to punish him.
He remained unfazed, and Kambei simply replied quietly: "That's not true. You're beautiful. I've never thought differently."
He rubbed a palm against her forehead in an attempt to ease her, but lifting her hair from her face revealed an almost undistinguishable look - a look that Kambei had seen only a few times in delicate moments like these. He cupped her cheek in his hand. Dried sweat from the strain of her body's wariness tainted her skin and made her look incredibly pale in the moonlight. Little strands of bright blond hair stuck to her forehead and the sharpened corners of her face. Once again, he was tricked into believing that she had the ability to glow in the dark. For all he wanted to know, she did glow.
Kyuzo didn't say anything. The air seemed to saturate their presence to a language that only they could understand; a step in their relationship that transcended normal speaking terms. Although it would be wonderful to hear Kyuzo verbally express her affection, Kambei knew that her candidness to his caresses was equated with the same value, if not more.
It was a true, unbridled sense of understanding.
Kambei's hand was gentle against her cheek, and Kyuzo nudged her face into it, closing her eyes.
"Go to sleep," he whispered. He kissed her forehead.
She nodded. Falling back onto the pillow, she arranged herself comfortably, and Kambei pulled the blankets to her chin.
The room seemed incredibly bright to Kambei, even though he knew dawn had yet to break, Kyuzo's skin was the new moonlight in their bedroom.
the end