A/N: A brief dedication to my sole reviewer, lizy3333, who is reading this faithfully even if she's not familiar with the fandom. Tell your friends, liz! I am grateful to those loyal to me...(Mwahahahaha)
Right, onto Chapter Three: In Which We Learn Kiba's Character Can Be Even Worse Mangled.
Chapter three – Domesticated (kangae)
"Count your blessings count them one, two, three
Don't give up 'cause it'll all work out
It may seem like a strange cup of tea but
If it's all right with you, it's just fine with me…"
- Sister Hazel, 'Strange cup of tea'.
The copper wolf ran.
Running over ice floes, cold crunching between his claws, freezing wind tearing his fur into points. He was alone.
Where was everyone? Warm fur, playful teasing and nips. White as the snow around him. Greyer than the iron storm-clouds on the horizon. Gold like the weak sun above him.
He couldn't see, it was so cold. Blinding whiteness squared him in on all sides, great expanses of nothingness, frozen and lonely as the end of the world.
The end of the world? Why was that so familiar?
There was a peak of ice ahead of him, and a bellow sounded far behind him, the roar of something huge and old, dying a painful death. When he reached the tip of the ice, he howled, long and loud, howling for anyone, anything.
Howling a challenge to the lonely world.
A small weight landed on Toboe's chest, and he cracked open an eye to see the white furry face of his cat, Shiro, wraow insistently and lick his nose, provoking a sleepy laugh. "Ergh, Shi, stop it! That's gross!"
Her tongue was too rough. It didn't feel right at all.
He grabbed the half-grown feline around her waist and tucked her against him, rolling over and squinting at the clock on his bedside table. "What time is it, anyway?"
The cat squirmed and launched herself off the bed and out the door, tail high. It was nine-thirty. Toboe rolled back again and buried his head the pillow. It was Sunday morning. Too early on a Sunday morning.
There were cooking noises coming from the kitchen, just down the hallway in the medium-sized flat he shared with his Grandmother above her café. The boy lay in bed for another ten or twenty minutes, before deciding that he wasn't going to go back to sleep, then jumped out of bed, and wandered along to the kitchen, sticking his head round the door. Granny was already up – she was usually awake before eight or so, no matter the day of the week, cooking and baking all sorts of things for that day or the next.
She took a bowl of batter and put it on the small kitchen table without looking up. "Put some slippers on, dear, or you'll catch your death."
Toboe looked down at his bare feet. How did she do that? He went and grabbed a pair of shabby blue slippers, then plonked himself down at the table, pulling the bowl toward him and sniffing at it curiously. "What's this, Granny?"
"I'm trying a new mix for berry pancakes, dearie. Could you possibly beat it for me, please? These old hands are a bit full at the moment…" She drew a batch of what looked like brownies out of the oven, and began to slice them up with a large knife. The boy watched her bustling, flower-print-clad back for a few seconds, then warily put a finger in the bowl to taste. "…and don't do that."
He froze, and withdrew his hand. He wanted to poke his tongue out, but he didn't dare. He settled for wrinkling his nose at her still turned back, then went and got a wooden spoon out of the drawer and started to fold the thick mixture.
A several hours passed, without remark. The pancakes were agreed to be a success, and would almost certainly be put on tomorrow's breakfast menu. Toboe got dressed, fed Shiro and let her out onto the roof. Granny let him scrape out the brownie-bowl.
At about three o'clock, there was a knock at the front door. The boy looked up from a book, and frowned. Granny stuck her head into the living room. "Could you get that, dear? It's probably just a salesman or some silly thing, but it pays to be polite."
Toboe nodded, went to the door, and opened it only to see the back of a dark khaki jacket and jeans topped by a mass of dark hair, half way down the hallway and moving walk-fast. "Hey!"
The guy with the pictures from yesterday morning turned, and the kid thought he saw a slight embarrassed tinge to the otherwise pale cheeks. "Er…hi?"
"Why did you just knock on our door then go away like that?" He took a step out of the door, semi-consciously. Open invitations were one thing that Toboe had always considered to be a bad idea, but this guy seemed nice. Really nice. Like he could be trusted. How that could be ascertained from five seconds worth of small-talk was a mystery to him, but still…
The guy shifted uncomfortably. He was empty-handed. "It's…kinda hard to explain. Listen, I know you've got no reason to let me, but could I come in for a moment? It's a really weird story, and I promise I'll leave as soon as it's done. I just need to get it off my chest."
The boy smiled and shrugged. Was that all? He was sure Granny wouldn't mind. "Sure! Come on in!"
He stepped back to let the other in, whose face less smiled than relaxed, marginally. "I'm Kiba, by the way."
"I know." Then he blinked and shook his head violently. "Sorry. Why did I just say that? Like my mouth suddenly got a mind of its own…"
The older man's smile widened, just a tiny bit. "That's sort of part of why I came to talk to you."
They came to the lounge-room, and Toboe perched on the arm of one of the plush, flower-printed armchairs, tucking one leg beneath him. Kiba stood uncertainly for a minute or two, then sat on the end cushion of the sofa.
Granny, apparently having heard their brief conversation in the hallway, came bustling in with a plate of cookies.
"Toboe, you naughty boy," she scolded, "You could have told me you'd invited this nice young man over and I could have made some of those oatmeal-raisins. But since you didn't we'll have to do with banana-chocolate-oatmeal biscuits. Those are okay, aren't they dear?"
This last was directed at Kiba, whose blue-green eyes widened, startled. "Er, yeah, they are. Thanks, Mrs…"
The old woman smiled, offering him the plate. "Nonsense dear, call me Granny, just like everyone else. Besides, in my personal opinion, there's no price good enough to pay for a well-told tale."
Now Kiba really did look trapped – it was obvious he'd only intended to tell the story to Toboe. In an effort to bail him out, the kid said, "Granny, haven't you got stuff in the oven? Won't it burn?"
She shook her head. "Of course not, dear. I wasn't born yesterday, you know." She turned back to Kiba. "Well then, dear. You go on whenever you like."
The poor guy sighed, bit his lip, then started talking.
"It all began – well, I think it's been going on a while. I suppose it started a few weeks ago, really. Like I told you, I'm a paramedic, and we'd been called to this hit-and-run road accident. The victim was this girl, probably about seventeen or so, and an albino, I guess, but she'd dyed her hair. Complete mess – how we managed to get her back in one piece is a mystery. But the guy who'd hit her was worse off than her, insensible, talking about ghosts and how she hadn't been there before, honest, she just appeared out of nowhere, like nothing he'd ever seen." Kiba snorted. It was clear he'd heard these kinds of excuses before. "The police did a breath-test on him, and sure enough, he was over the limit. But that's beside the point, I guess.
"Anyway, we loaded her up, but before that – this is where it gets weird – she said my name. I'm sure of it. The other guys didn't hear anything, of course, and she was so out of it that it's impossible, but I distinctly heard her say my name. After that, nothing was the same. She kept – I kept hearing her voice in my head, and having blackouts, like one moment I'd be about to get into the ambulance, then the next moment I'd be standing outside in the rain, soaking wet, or in the intensive care ward. I don't mind getting wet, but it was just really – weird might be the wrong way to put it, because it felt perfectly natural at the time. More than natural. It felt right." He glared at his audience, as though daring them to call him crazy there and then. Toboe only nodded, and Granny made a little shooing motion with one hand to say go on, dear. He continued. "So the long and the short of it was that I've really lost my job. They're calling it recuperation on account of me overworking or something, but I know I won't get invited back.
"And then, about a week ago, I started having these dreams. I can't remember them clearly enough to describe, but I know there's a wolf, and he's looking for something that he can't find –"
"Wait! I've been dreaming about wolves, too!" Toboe burst out, then looked confused. "Granny, a wolf's like a big wild dog, right?"
She smiled. "They're meant to be more than that, dear, but I think you'd better let Kiba finish, before he explodes."
The kid smiled back, sheepishly. "Sorry."
The corner of Kiba's mouth twisted wryly, then his brow furrowed. "It's alright, I guess. Is the wolf you're dreaming about white?"
He shook his head, crestfallen. "No, mine's a kind of dusty-brown colour. Like a fox, but way bigger, and more blonde."
"Right." He nodded, dark hair falling into his eyes. "Anyway, I've also been getting this feeling like there's something I'm missing. You even get that feeling where you go into a room to get something, but then when you get there you've totally forgotten what it was? It's like that, only deeper."
Then he leant back and blinked. "Wow, I haven't talked like that for- well, ever, I guess. It's not like me to rattle on like that. Sorry if I've bored you."
He stood up, apparently to go, but granny stood up as well, and pushed him back down with surprising strength. "Don't be silly, dear. Of course you haven't. Why, I haven't heard a story like that in a very long while. Now, if you're going to stay the night –"
"What?" Kiba stood up again, and managed to take several steps towards the door. "No, I have to go. I'll come by the café tomorrow."
The old woman headed him off. "Quit talking nonsense this instant! You can help Toboe make up the sofa, after dinner, then in morning you can tell me if you've had another one of those dreams while it's still nice and fresh in your mind."
"But I –"
"You just told us you don't have a job to get to. And I'd wager you don't have a pet or a partner, either." She tilted her head at him, scrutinizing him with shrewd grey eyes behind her large spectacles.
Kiba stared at her, torn between anger and exasperation. "No, but –"
"But no, no buts! Sit!" Helplessly, he sat. "Good boy. Now I'll make us a nice pot of tea. I'd bet that your poor throat's parched after all that talking."
He stared after her for a second or two, dumbstruck. Then he said, "Is she always like that?"
Toboe looked smug. "Yup."
A/N: You know the drill, you know what to do -
I've written, you've read, so time to review!