A/N: um, minor change: it is no longer fall (I think i mentioned it was autumn in an earlier chapter), I decided to change the time frame of all this to spring because I wanted to write about baby bunnies...


Mocha Latte

-Kitty

Chapter 6: A tiny warmth


Thunder rolled distantly in the sky and a sudden jagged flash of light illuminated his dark corner. The huddled figure was curled tightly into itself, silver white hair clinging wetly to his back. Water ran in little rivulets down his bare back, sinking cold shivering tremors into his skin. This fucking sucks.

"My charms recognize you now, you'll always have a safe place here."

He growled softly to himself as the rain continued to beat down on his exposed figure. It was a downpour and the clouds overhead were still dark and heavy with the promise of even more rain. He was used to the cold, but his body bore it reluctantly. It had recently had a taste of warmth and softness and the comfort of a small, cozy home and that memory was a stab at his mental fortitude as he stubbornly waited out the storm.

The dawn struggled to shine through the cloud layer and the day only managed to brighten into a cold, moody gray. Eventually, his joints complained over the stiff, cramped position and with a grunt and a groan, he uncurled and stood. It was a gloomy new day and his subconscious new exactly where to go to feel just a little bit better.

Before he was really conscious of his movements, he was back in that bare maple tree, furtively glancing down at the dark window. It was early in the morning and the apartment's occupants had obviously not yet roused for the day. He sighed, surprised by how disappointed he felt at the darkness in that window. Glancing around, he clutched at himself as he observed the suburban neighborhood below. The pavement was slick with rain and white, artificial light shimmered and danced as it bounced against the ground. Every now and then, the harsh, startling headlights of a vehicle would round the corner and he'd press himself tightly against the rough bark in and effort to remain undetected. The rain had lessened, but maintained a blanket of white noise that lulled him as he roosted on that branch and gazed down at her window. He blinked and his eyes roamed. The grass below was fresh and vibrant, joyous of the rain and fearless of the cold. The rain water pooled near the curb, creating little eddies and streams as it tumbled toward the drain. A little, still object lay like discarded trash on the lip of the drain and for some reason, it caught and held his attention.

Scent was difficult to gather in the wake of the stormy night and he couldn't identify the tiny lump below him from the distance. The shadows across its surface gave him the distinct impression that the thing had fur. Perhaps that was why his eyes were drawn to it. He studied the small, round, sodden lump, and found that he began to recognize tiny paws and ears the closer he looked. And suddenly, it twitched, tiny little feet waving uselessly on its side as the poor, drenched rabbit shivered intensely as though desperately struggling for life one last time.

It was hard to put into words, the wave of emotion that swept through him. Regret for the young life lost, melancholia, pity. He knew how it was, that life was cruel and harsh and uncaring and he seemed to feel the wheel of life turning as the tiny rabbit's movements stilled, stiffly, in the dark, stormy morning. The thought that the little thing would die pressed its way through him, like moisture seeping into his skin.

But then, its hind foot kicked out again, knocking the precariously balanced bundle of fur off the lip of the drain and suddenly, he was in motion, swooping down to the gutter, a desperate hand reaching elbow deep into the mysterious dark world below.

'I can't let it die.'

He couldn't quite define how or why this thought suddenly rose up in his mind, commandeering his free will and causing him to bring the little fistful of fur to his chest. He was hardly thinking as his body moved, his bare feet slapping against the wet pavement. They swiftly brought him to the apartment door where he stood, dripping enough water to fill a small bathtub, hesitating with a hand hovering above the doorbell.

A click from the other side and suddenly, the door burst open, revealing a confused, sincere face that gazed up at his. The expression he bore must have been obvious in its distress because her warm brown eyes filled with concern, frowning, before dropping down to focus on the tiny lump in his hands. Her eyes went wide, her frown lifted and her face brightened with understanding. Her hands opened immediately to accept the precious bundle.

Burden relieved of, he immediately took a step back, prepared to flee but her voice froze him to ground.

"Were there any more?" She asked, "Rabbit nests will often have several babies."

His eyes went wide and he whirled around. "I'll check," he muttered, before disappearing from sight.

She had hardly had enough time to dig out a fresh, dry towel when he reappeared before her door, a tiny furred lump in each hand. One already had the scent of death creeping into it and he gingerly held it back while handing her the second, half drowned rabbit. Before he could escape, she was ushering him back inside, that gaudy pair of red sweat pants again thrust into his arms, and pushing the door closed to bar his exit.

"Get yourself dry," she urged, turning back to the two rabbits in her arms, "And I have beef stew leftovers in the fridge. I'll heat it up as soon as we warm up these little guys."

They were small, both could fit easily in her slender hand. She held them close against her chest, their dampness seeping into her shirt. Her warmth began its work, gradually bringing up their body temperatures and she smiled to feel their little bodies beginning to revive.

He watched her in an odd state of detachment, one hand holding the rabbits' dead sibling, the other gripping the sweatpants as though he'd forgotten what to do with them. She looked up at him, her chocolate brown stare direct and bright and suddenly, a tension he hadn't realized was there seemed to drain out of him, leaving him feeling weak and dazed as she approached him. The smile on her lips seemed to feed a fire in his gut and it warmed him from the inside out.

"It's good to see you again," she said, gently taking the dead rabbit from his lax hand. She carefully laid the limp creature on a discarded towel on the table before turning back to him, placing her hand on his to encourage him. "Get those sweatpants on and come sit down. We can give this little guy a send off after the rain ends."

He blinked and glanced at the rabbit on the table, then brought his gaze to the living pair in her arms. He should get going, there was no more reason to stay. But then he felt her warm hand on his wrist, pulling him further into the apartment and as though his brain had disconnected from his body, he allowed himself to be led to the couch.

"Here," she said gently, "They're mostly dry now, hold them close to warm them up. I'll heat up something for you."

He stared at the little towel wrapped bundle she handed him and with excruciating care, lifted them closer to his chest. He was stiff, but he let this bewildering woman drape a thick, fleece blanket over his shoulders, despite flinching when he felt her fingers brush against his skin. She ignored the unconscious gesture and moved on to the kitchen, the familiar sound of pots and dishes clanking as she worked. It wasn't long before a warm, savory scent drifted into the living room and she re-emerged with two mugs of steaming tea.

"It's hot," she warned, setting down his share. Reached toward him, she held her arms open, gesturing to the rabbits he cradled and after an unsure breath, he relinquished them to her before reaching down to tug at his clammy wet jeans. Glancing up at her, he was relieved that she had turned her back, waiting for him to change. He paused, taking note of her appearance for the first time. The shirt she wore was loose and comfortable, with a wide neckline that fell to the side and exposed a smoother, slender shoulder. She was hunched over, engrossed with the little breathing bundle and he found his eyes drawn to the way her hair split at her neck, allowing just a peak of creamy colored skin to peek through. He frowned suddenly, conflicted and disturbed by how his thoughts and his eyes felt magnetically drawn to her. Shaking his head slightly, he finally turned his attention to changing into the borrowed clothes. His skin tingled as he shed his wet attire. Again, he was bemused by the surreal feeling of the soft, warm material, both the sweatpants and the blanket around his shoulders. Harshness, he understood, knew how to respond to. But this softness, in both her demeanor and in what she offered him, left him frozen and disbelieving. As though he were living in a dream, in a world that could not possibly exist in reality.

When he'd settled, she turned back around, her eyes sparkling as she smiled at him. He found himself unable to hold her gaze, and awkwardly glanced around the room, taking in the familiar trinkets and artwork. Surprise washed over him to spot a new painting propped up on the desk, slowly drying in the warm room. It was of a tall figure wearing red, topped with streaming white hair and two triangular ears, facing away from the viewer, surveying a dynamic, colorful swirl of bold, curving brushstrokes. There was a bizarre sense of movement and peace in the figure. The girl followed his gaze and chuckled, bringing his attention back to her.

"You leave a very striking impression," she told him. He searched her face for the briefest of moments, trying to find some clarity in the strange swirling emotions he felt within him, somehow so perfectly captured by the thrashing colors in her painting.

Something in the kitchen bubbled and she rose, leaning across the coffee table to return the little bundle of baby rabbit to him while she served the leftover stew. Looking down at the two breathing lumps of fur, he had to bite his lip over the strange swell of warmth that burned and tingled inside him. Shifting, he brought out a dangerous, clawed hand carefully, oh so carefully, to stroke the soft, downy fur. The two fuzzy creatures shifted against each other and he couldn't help the small twitch of a smile that played at his lips. Slowly, carefully, he brought his hand down again, gently feeling their trembling, pulsing bodies. They were warm.


A/N: While I was in college, I stumbled across a baby bunny that was dying in the middle of rainstorm. At first I thought it was too bad and walked right past it but something stopped me. I thought I'd just try to dry it up and leave it in a covered spot, but once I picked it up, I just knew I had to do everything I could to save it. I was on my way to work so I called my boyfriend and he was able to come over to pick it up. Between the two of us and the internet, we were able to get it back on its feet and it seemed old enough to eat solid food so we released it nearby. Sadly, I wasn't very clear about where I found it so despite my boyfriend's best efforts, he wasn't able to find any of its siblings before it was too late so it was the only one of its litter to survive. We were recently flipping back through some old college memories and this little story came up and I felt like writing about it. Figured in fiction at least we could save one more of its siblings :P

Also, yay! Inuyasha's back with Kagome again!