(a/n: written for the second 42 Days challenge on proboards. Hopelessly waffy, and from a five-year-old point of view. Criticism appreciated.
Waiting for Dawn
What time is dawn? The palace halls were cloaked in gloaming grey, and while the sun had yet to be seen, it was assuredly no longer night. Golden eyes assessed the shade of the shadows critically, trying to decide.
Last night, Konzen had gotten really mad. Last night, effervescent playing had led to an entire inkwell splashing merrily over papers and desks and boyish hands. Last night, the golden-haired kami had finally had enough and small, excited shoulders had been shoved unceremoniously into the exile of the hallway.
"Why can't you ever be more like a NORMAL PERSON?!" he hadn't waited for Goku to come up with an answer. "GET OUT! And if I see your face before dawn--!" The exasperated kami hadn't finished his statement, but rather slammed the door in a fit of pique. Night's darkness had welled up like ink against the unforgiving closure of that portal, and golden eyes blinked back tears of confusion. How could the sun simply leave? How important could those papers really be? He felt bad about upsetting Konzen, but surely his caretaker couldn't stay angry all night, could he?
At first, he'd called for Konzen. He'd asked permission to return. He'd wailed that the hall wasn't comfortable, but no reply had been forthcoming. When desperation won the contest of what Konzen wanted vs. what Goku needed, he'd even tried simply opening the door. An angry shout from inside had stilled his hand, however, and so he'd curled up on the bamboo floor of the hallway to wait for morning or the return of the sun, whichever came first. He managed to sleep for almost six hours.
What time is dawn? Of course, Konzen was probably asleep. If he were sleeping, he could hardly see Goku's face, right? A tentative hand reached for the door handle before pulling back for further consideration. How could he resist waking Konzen the moment he entered the room? It was not a question of stealth – Goku could move with unexpected silence when he wanted to – it was rather the fact that the boy wanted nothing more than to see his sun's eyes open, and watch that shining hair fall river-like over narrow shoulders. He wanted to bounce gleefully on the sweet warmth of Konzen-scented sheets, and revel in the presence that had been unfairly denied him for a whole night. But I'm not allowed to do that before dawn...
It was a conundrum. Even so, he reasoned that he could consider it just as carefully inside the room as outside. As quietly as he could, he pulled his night shirt off over his head and tore five long strips from it. These he used to bind the links of chain at his wrists, throat and ankles – no unexpected jingle would wake his sleeping caretaker before dawn. He pushed the door open just a crack, then just a little more. Sharp ears heard soft, familiar breathing. Golden eyes made out the rising and falling of a particular blanket-covered shape. For a moment, he thought of taking a flying leap onto that prominence, but an image of Konzen's angry face as he shut the door intruded, reminding him again.
He crept into the room, all tawny skin and barely muted enthusiasm. Just being back inside filled him with delight. His own familiar bed stood invitingly against the far wall, but being wide awake, he decided not to visit it. After all, it wasn't the bed he missed. Moving with the careful stealth of a child intent on mischief, he approached the edge of Konzen's mattress. The kami's face was all but hidden between the bulk of his favorite pillow and a drift of silken comforter, but even that little glimpse filled the boy with contentment. For almost five minutes.
Konzen asleep was simply not as interesting as Konzen awake. True, Konzen could be scary when he was angry. And true, Konzen would probably be very angry if he were to wake up now and find himself practically nose to nose with a little monkey all but holding his breath in suppressed excitement. Still, what if he were already awake? What if he were just pretending to be asleep?
This thought deserved some consideration. Konzen might already be fully aware that Goku had disobeyed him, and just trying to come up with a really good punishment before he opened his eyes. If that were the case, deliberately "waking" him up might keep him from thinking up something really painful. It would save Goku from whatever horrible fate the kami's mind might create and better yet, save Konzen from the guilt of doing something terrible to such a sweet and innocent child as himself. In the end, once he thought about it, Konzen would probably be grateful to Goku for the intrusion! And with that happy fiction firmly fixed in his thoughts, the boy leaned a few centimeters further forward.
"Konzen?" His voice was too soft to be called a whisper. It was barely a breath of air. He tried again. "Konzen?" But for some reason his voice simply refused to obey his fantasy, and instead confessed the trepidation of a child not wishing to be scolded again. It was darker in this room than in the hallway, after all, and Konzen might not realize how close to dawn it truly was. Still, perhaps one more try? "Koooonzeeeen?" But an owl's wings in the night would have made more noise, and the boy gave up. Konzen must not be pretending.
He slumped from his crouch to sit cross-legged on the floor. For nearly a quarter hour (or a relative eternity), he sat quietly, alternately watching Konzen sleep and watching the stubborn shadows infinitesimally fade. As eagerness and anticipation waned, the boy began to notice how cold the smooth bamboo floor was. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to rip up his nightshirt. He stood, still quietly, but not nearly as deliberately as earlier, and walked over to the closet he and Konzen shared.
Sliding back the cedar-paneled door, he was immediately greeted by the familiar sight of his caretaker's robes and tunics hanging neatly on the bar and his own small chest of clothing stowed beneath. He leaned into the closet to drag out his chest, but feeling the softness of white and lavender silk brush his nose, he stopped. Konzen's tunics smelled nice. They always did, but ordinarily Konzen was in them and was rather forcibly disinclined to let the boy rub his face in them. He also tended to get twitchy if Goku spent too long in the closet. It was amazing how long the kami's memory could cling to the one time a certain golden-eyed child had gone for new clothes before washing blueberry juice from his fingers...
But all that was neither here nor there. The sun-tressed kami was blissfully (or at least steadfastly) asleep, and as such, had made no objection to Goku's lingering. Smiling, the boy stretched his arms to embrace the shining mass of fabric. The mingled smells of silk and lilacs and dust tantalized his nose, almost but not entirely masking the fresh, spicy note of the kami's own scent. Satiny caresses stroked his cheeks and ruffled his hair as he burrowed more energetically into the wall of clothes. Suddenly, the soft weight of yards of rich cloth pressed heavily on the child's head, and looking up, he realized his exuberance had dislodged the hangers from their rod.
He backed out of the closet, tunics splaying behind and around him like a giant, pastel fan. Golden eyes glanced nervously at the bed, but no sudden movement or irritated grumble sounded to signal the kami's awakening. Breathing a sigh of relief, the boy returned his attention to the tunics on the floor. Should he attempt to re-hang them? Running his hands through the tactilely pleasing heap, he was suddenly struck with inspiration. If they felt this pleasant to his fingertips, what might it feel like to wear one?
A mischievous smile lit up the child's face. Yes. He would wear one of Konzen's tunics. And while he was at it, he might as well wear the rest of the outfit. The other residents of heaven were always asking him why he couldn't behave more like his caretaker, so really, dressing like him might be a step in the right direction. Climbing carefully over the slippery pile of tunics, Goku returned to the closet to select the rest of the garments he'd need.
Konzen's favourite white jeans with the gold accents were nowhere to be found. As like as not, he'd worn them to bed. Instead, Goku selected a pair of black trousers, jean-like in cut, but of a denim so worn it was soft as chambray. These had been Konzen's favourites for years, until the frayed edges of the hems became impossible for his refined aesthetic sensibilities to ignore. One wouldn't think it, but the golden-haired kami was surprisingly vain – at least where his clothes were concerned. A quick tug freed the trousers from their hanger, after which it was the work of a moment to slide them over calloused, dusty feet, up wiry, wriggling legs and around narrow hips. This last proved somewhat problematic. On Konzen, these trousers were skin-tight, but the much smaller boy quickly realized he'd need some sort of belt if he didn't want them falling back around his ankles. They were also far too long, but a few deft twists rolled the frayed hems out of sight and the excess length out of harm's way.
There were sashes of silk and cotton and plaited gold in the kami's closet, but no belts. Regretting the deviation from authenticity, the child improvised with one of his own, pulling it through the never-before-used belt loops, and cinching it tight around his waist. The effect wasn't as stylish as a proper fit might have been, but this hardly mattered to Goku. The time-softened cotton felt positively delightful against skin accustomed to durable canvas or tough, raw silk, and the boy wondered happily whether he might be able to appropriate these jeans for himself. It wasn't as though Konzen wore them all that often...
But that thought was quickly lost as he turned to sort through the tunics. There was no doubt in his mind as to which one he wanted. Brown fingers swam through waves of silk until they closed on the gossamer, lilac smoothness of the tunic Konzen had been wearing yesterday. The color was barely recognizable in the dimness of the room. The child chose it more by smell and the lingering feel of "Konzen" that clung to its folds. With near-reverent care, he drew the tunic from its place among the others, pulling the dully gleaming length gently, so as not to mar or tear it by accident. The hanger was quickly discarded, and then he was easing the garment over his head.
He had to stand up to manage it. Sitting on the ground, he'd been quickly lost in the sea of fluttering silk. Once standing, the boy was able to make slightly more sense of the flowing, tabard-like front and back panels. His arms found their respective holes without too much fuss, but the heavy bulk of his diadem caught the narrow opening of the neck and would not let it pass. Goku tried to simply wiggle his head through. This did not work. He tried stretching the fabric around the golden circlet, but the closely woven silk would not give. He jumped up and down, thinking that perhaps the recalcitrant garment might rearrange itself eight inches lower on its own, but this not only failed to occur; it succeeded in causing him to trip on the long drapes of skirting and fall to the floor.
This was simply too much. The silk of the tunic was teasingly sensual as it brushed his belly. Lilacs and the faintest hint of musk taunted his nose. Happy thoughts of looking just like his favourite person in the world were dancing tantalizingly further from reach with every failed attempt at the neck. Earth's youngest child gave a growl of annoyance, and surrendering to frustration, he grabbed the offending jewelry through the whisper-thin cloth. He was clutching it tightly with every intention of hurling it to the ground beneath the tunic, when suddenly strong fingers fastened over his own. He froze, his heartbeat fluttering like a hummingbird in the exhillarated guilt of discovery.
What time is dawn?
"Just undo the damn button, you stupid monkey." He couldn't see the ghost of irritated amusement behind the kami's eyes, but he could feel the warmth of his presence. He eased his grasp on the golden obstacle, and felt his caretaker's hand let go. The boy nearly giggled as dexterous hands pushed his hair aside to reach the closure in question. Abruptly, the pressure on his skull eased, and silk fell like sakura petals to his shoulders. "I don't remember telling you you could borrow my clothes."
Konzen's face was weary and stern, but that's not what worried the boy. His eyes scrutinized the shadows as his mouth opened in apology. "I just wanted to be more like you..." was it dawn yet? Could it be? Golden eyes full of sudden concern and desperate hope glanced up to catch the kami's gaze. For a moment, violet eyes stared back unyielding. Then Konzen sighed.
"Well, at least you didn't stain anything this time," and he ruffled the boy's soft, brown hair. Goku grinned. He launched himself forward, throwing his arms around his resigned caretaker, and laughed at the lovely touch of silk and smiles and Konzen. Around them, the room was still a pale myriad of grey's, but the Sun had returned.
Dawn had finally arrived.