Thirty minutes later, a soaking wet Tombo returned to Kiki asleep on his bed. She really had been working hard these days. He shook out his umbrella, and she jolted awake like a cat. "Sorry I got mad," he said, shedding his jacket. "I didn't really know how to react… "
That bright red-and-white shirt; that was what Kiki would miss. How he made such bold fashion statements - like her own black dress - but it worked. Those thick-framed glasses. How the rain condensed on those thick-framed glasses. How he was so mild-mannered that he'd apologize for getting mad about something any normal person would get mad about. The fact that even though he was a total nerd, he was able to flip it and make lots of friends with that magnetic personality of his. Including her.
Kiki was his friend, pure and simple. When she'd first arrived in Koriko - a scared thirteen-year-old witch in a new town - he'd been the first person to reach out. She wanted to express her gratitude.
Kiki handed over the box she'd gone there to deliver. "For me?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Thank you," Tombo said automatically, before he even opened it. He was careful not to disturb the big red bow.
Taking inspiration from the Kiki cake, she'd requested the Tombo torte: a chocolate cake with a wide-eyed boy drawn in vanilla frosting, thinking of all sorts of icinged aviation. Planes, blimps, hot air balloons - you name it.
Tombo prickled his nose, and turned towards the wall as the tears came.
"Oh no, I'm sorry!" Kiki darted across the bed to comfort him. "No no no no don't cry, Tombo, please," she implored, hugging him. And they stayed like that for a little while.
Eventually Tombo pulled away, laughing. "What?" Kiki said.
"It's like we switched places."
"Yeah," Kiki realized. "It is."
Tombo wiped his eyes, but his frames getting in the way, so he took off his glasses. "I mean, obviously it makes me sad," he began. "I don't want you to go… but I don't want to keep you from your dreams either. And what am I gonna do, expect you to support yourself on a delivery service forever?"
Kiki had to agree. Out of all the things she'd miss about Koriko, living in abject poverty and scraping by day-to-day was not one of them. She couldn't wait to be taken care of, at least for a little while.
"I'm closing up shop," Kiki confided. "I have to focus on shipping everything back home so that my parents can send it overseas."
Tombo nodded, exuding dejection despite himself.
"No no no, don't be sad! I'm really glad you were my last account," she quickly reassured. "And I mean that. Really."
"I know. Thanks."