Negotiations
(Theme #12 - Forever Ours)

There had been a tumble of limbs and relieved cries of "Cassis-nee-chan! Aniki!" from the boys when they'd finally gotten back to the house. Cassis had given them all tight hugs and reassured them that she was fine, but Jing could hear a tremor in her voice.

"Can we stay here tonight, aniki?" Clove asked, but Cassis answered before he had a chance.

"We're going home tonight, Clove," she said with deceptively bright cheer. "The Aunties will be worried."

"They know we sleep here too," Pomme muttered, and Mint nodded agreement, but they all headed for the door anyway.

Jing caught Cassis' hand in his own newly released right one, and marvelled for a moment at how warm the skin felt. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly, suspecting that the return to Balalaika was motivated less by the Aunties' worry and more by her desire to be safely within the town limits, safely in her bed where she would feel protected. Safe, but away from him. "I can take them back if you want to stay here."

Her turquoise eyes held his for a moment, and then she shook her head and smiled weakly. "It's all right," she squeezed his hand before pulling away and herding the boys out the door. "We'll see you tomorrow," she called over her shoulder, and then they were gone.

Silence reigned. Jing dragged a hand over his face and dropped into one of the kitchen chairs, telling himself that there was no longer any reason to fear she'd be snatched away if she was out at night, restraining the urge to follow them because he'd get her bat upside his head if she ever thought he didn't think she could take care of herself and her charges. Cassis was like that.

"I liked the party bit better," a voice remarked from behind him, and Jing nearly leapt out of his skin, having forgotten for a moment that there was one more than usual present.

The boy turned to regard the scrawny bird sitting on the mantle. "Oh," he said, slightly surprised that the avian creature hadn't flown off. "You're still here?"

"So?"

Jing tilted his head. "Have you figured out what your name is supposed to be?"

The bird muttered under his breath, but shook his head. "I guess Kir ain't too bad for a name, even if it is drawn out."

Jing got to his feet and approached the fireplace, looking up. "What kind of bird are you? A crow?"

"I'm an albatross," Kir said scathingly. "And what kind of human are you? You're pretty weird."

The child's grey eyes flickered, hurt, before they hardened in defiance. "I'm not weird," he retorted. "You're the weird one! How'd you do that to my arm?"

"Hey, it was your arm doing all that stuff all by itself!"

They glared stoutly at each other, unwilling to back down, until the clock interrupted them with its chime. A swirly-eyed cat figure popped out of the top with a loud meow to mark the late hour, and the sudden sound sent Kir launching off the mantle with a squawk of alarm. Jing suddenly found himself with an armful of feathers and a frantic heartbeat more suited to a hummingbird than an albatross.

"Hey, calm down," the boy said, concerned. "You okay?"

"M'fine," Kir muttered, but didn't seem too inclined to vacate his new position. "That's a stupid idea for a clock."

"... I like that clock."

"You would."

---

The bird snored.

Jing jammed his pillow over his head and groaned.

It was a long first night.

---

They didn't really speak again until breakfast the next day. Jing didn't really know what such birds ate, but he split his muffin and Kir seemed happy to receive his half, so he figured he couldn't be too picky. They sat on the doorstep, looking at the morning mist in the clearing.

"When is Cassis coming back?"

"After breakfast," Jing answered. "The Aunties always make them stay for breakfast first."

"Who are these 'Aunties' you keep talking about?" Kir asked.

Jing hesitated briefly, and then shrugged; still, the bird caught the pause and noted it with interest. "Aunties are the old ladies who run the orphanage."

"What's an orphanage?"

"It's... a place that kids go when they don't have any parents," Jing answered, kicking his feet off the edge of the step.

Kir appeared to mull that over, and silence returned. "How come you don't live there?" he asked, and then squawked when Jing turned on him furiously.

"'Cause I'm not an orphan!" he yelled, fingers digging into his palms. "I have my mom! She's just... not here with me any more..." His angry tone faded as fast as it had flared. Kir watched, somewhat fascinated, as the sudden fire banked itself and left once more a young boy sitting quietly on the wooden step, shoulders hunched slightly.

Definitely a trigger point, Kir thought.

---

Cassis didn't come back that day.

Jing said it was probably because the Aunties had grounded them for staying out so late.

Kir decided he didn't have much trouble telling when Jing was lying.

---

"Your feathers are turning colours," Jing remarked the following morning. "They're getting darker."

"Really?" Kir craned his neck around in vaguely owl-like fashion. "Look at that! Guess I'm a black albatross, then."

"I didn't know albatrosses came in black."

Kir made a derisive noise. "Yeah, well, what do you know? You thought I was a crow."

Jing gave the bird a dirty look. "I still have that frying pan, you know..."

Kir stuck his tongue out, another thing the boy hadn't known a bird could do. "I'd like to see you try!" he threatened. "I ain't just an egg any more, I can fly!"

"Oh yeah?" Jing challenged belligerently. "And what're you gonna do? Fly away?"

"Maybe I will!" The second glaring match in as many days ensued, but Kir wasn't quite done yet. "Let's get something straight! I can do whatever I want, got it? I ain't your present anymore, I ain't your pet, and I definitely ain't your sidekick! And if you ever treat me like that, I'm outta here!"

The albatross expected an argument, maybe a return list of demands that he would probably reject anyway, but to his shock, Jing merely nodded.

"Okay..." the boy said softly. "Is... there anything else?"

Kir blinked. "I want my own bed," he said, which was the first thing that came to his mind, because the hammock looked comfortable and he wanted to try it.

"Oh. Okay."

"And no more makin' fun of me!"

Jing nodded again, wordlessly.

"And... that thing you do with your arm! I'm not gonna do that unless I want to! Got it?" Kir couldn't think of any more demands for the moment, but with the way none of them had been met with a single objection, he didn't doubt that he could ask for much more. He just watched as Jing mutely agreed. He should have felt satisfied; he didn't. He felt somewhat like a bully. Why hadn't Jing stood up to him?

---

Cassis and the boys returned the next day. She laughed as though nothing had happened, but Jing saw her casting wary glances over her shoulder towards the forest. The boys were eager to meet Kir, to learn all about what had become of their first real heist, and so while Clove and Pomme and Mint fawned over the albatross (who seemed quite pleased with the attention), Jing sought out Cassis.

She was sitting under the tree by the doorstep, and for a moment he thought she'd fallen asleep. Then she opened her eyes and smiled up at him. "Hi Jing."

"Hi Cassis," he answered, sitting down next to her. She took his right hand in her own, curiously, and he let her because he too was at a loss to explain it.

"It's not cold anymore," she observed, and he shook his head. "Does it feel all right?"

"Yeah. Kinda weird, but not bad."

"Thank you for rescuing me."

Jing blinked. "You're welcome," he answered, although he thought that hadn't really needed any thanks; it wasn't like he would have done anything else.

"You've got a new friend, too," Cassis said, nodding in the direction of Kir. "What's he like?"

The grey-eyed boy shrugged. "He's okay. Pretty bossy, though. And he snores."

"You should tell him to be nicer," Cassis suggested. "Or I could tell him." She grinned and hefted an imaginary bat; hers was inside.

Jing sighed, looking slightly downcast. "No... it's fine. I don't mind, really..."

She almost called him a liar, because she'd never been afraid of speaking her mind before (especially not with Jing) but she didn't know why he'd tell such an obvious lie for a bird he barely knew. Since she wanted to find out, she held her tongue and merely replied, "If you say so," so that he would know she hadn't been fooled.

---

Kir made seven more rules before the end of the day, each more outrageous than the last.

Jing accepted each of them, premise and all, without question.

Kir wished that victory didn't make him feel like this.

---

The hammock took some getting used to, but Kir had been right in thinking it was comfortable, and had quickly fallen asleep. Thus it was with some irritation that he was woken in the middle of the night by something unknown. The room was dark and he couldn't see a thing (he had begun to think there was something wrong with his eyesight after the sun went down) but he listened and heard the soft sound of rapid breathing. Annoyed, he called, "Jing?"

The sounds stopped, but there was no answer. After a moment, Kir huffed and turned up the flame on the lamp, ready to say something about being old enough to sleep through the night. Yet he stopped when he saw the room's other occupant.

The boy was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest, cheeks wet with tears that tricked unchecked from tightly closed eyes. Jing's expression was so scared and ashamed that Kir's scathing comment died in his throat, and he asked, "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Jing replied, too quickly even if he hadn't been crying. "Just a nightmare. I'm sorry if... I woke you up. Please go back to sleep..."

"A nightmare?"

"A... bad dream."

"I know what a nightmare is," Kir said, annoyed again. In the lamplight, he saw the boy flinch and tried to soften his tone. "What was it about?"

It never crossed Jing's mind to lie or avoid the question; he'd simply never had anyone (except her) ever ask him that, and so it was given complete honesty. "I... I saw my mom again. She was there, and Cassis and my friends were there too. There was a voice, telling me I had to pick who to save." He tried admirably not to sniffle but the sound came out anyway. "And when I couldn't pick, they all disappeared..."

Kir opened his beak to say something, but Jing finished softly, "And the voice... it was yours..." He fell silent again, except for the unsteady sound of each breath.

The albatross couldn't think of anything to say, sarcastic or otherwise, and finally settled for clearing his throat. "Hey... stop cryin'... nightmares ain't real, you know..."

"I know," Jing sighed, laying down again and curling up beneath the blankets. "But you're going to leave too, aren't you?" He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "That's why you made up all those rules... so that when I break one, you can leave whenever you want..."

And Kir couldn't help but pity the boy, who was so young and already had such a bleak and crestfallen outlook on life. He put up with me bein' so awful... because he was scared I'd leave if he didn't. He'll take bein' unhappy over bein' alone without a second thought...

He flew from his place to the edge of Jing's bed to perch there awkwardly, as too-large grey eyes peered at him, perhaps dreading to hear agreement and yet knowing that at the very least, it would end the façade.

"No," Kir said finally. "No, I ain't gonna leave." He couldn't help but feel shamed by the painful relief that brightened Jing's features. "And those rules... I didn't mean most of them. Guess I was just showin' off a bit... I'm sorry 'bout that. Now c'mon... let's go back to sleep. How about... I stay here for tonight? If you don't roll over in the middle of the night and squash me, that is..."

"Okay..." Jing made a spot for the bird, and turned out the lamp. For several heartbeats, they simply lay in the dark, each lost in his own thoughts.

"I still ain't your sidekick," Kir said suddenly.

"Partner."

"What?"

"If you want... we can be partners."

Kir considered this; partnership implied equality, and he thought maybe that's all he'd been seeking from the beginning. "Deal," the albatross announced. "That's a good contract."

"Okay," Jing said sleepily, wrapping his arms carefully around the bird.

"Okay," Kir echoed, and that was that.