She was a waitress in a cafe. She didn't know any better.

We were passing through a small town we'd come across randomly, just a little village in the forest; I can't remember the name of it now. We needed supplies. I mean, we were doing fine on our own, but it was getting cold and we needed blankets to keep us warm.

I was tired. I admit it, I was exhausted. I did not feel like hunting or foraging or doing anything at all for a long, long time. So when Kenta headed in the direction of the little cafe I had to follow because I was too worn out to protest.

I sat down, I didn't say anything. Kenta pulled a wallet out of his pocket and went up to the counter to order something.

Then that waitress came up and said, "That's your brother? He's a little young to be ordering by himself, huh?"

I told her Kenta was old enough to handle it on his own. Then when she left my frazzled mind latched on to the words she had said.

I was overcome by adamance, then a little anger, and then suddenly...thoughtfulness.

I looked at Kenta with an open mind all of a sudden. Brother?

It honestly hadn't been so bad to have someone beside me for the last few days. But a brother? Kenta was hardly that.

Or maybe -

I ran through a list in my head. Kenta was loyal, concerned about me. He was a little annoying at times but he seemed to look up to me as well. Weren't these the traits of a brother, after all?

I couldn't say I would've chosen to have that kid follow me around like a lost puppy, but I had to admit that he was getting to me, bit by bit.

Kenta didn't choose to follow me because he thought I was anything special; he did it for Gingka. But I didn't tell myself that.

I have to admit that maybe I was waiting, wishing inside for someone to see me as something special. Somebody to look up to. To treat me as a friend and really care about me. Kenta wasn't my first choice. But now that he was here, what was the harm?

I realised with a jolt that if anything happened to him, I would be visibly shaken. I would be regretful. You could even say I'd be sad if he got lost.

Maybe, I reasoned, it would be all right to open up a little bit. Having someone to look out for wouldn't be so bad. Besides, Kenta was the kind of person who would stick up for you in the end. He was loyal and he saw me as a hero, I know that now.

So at dusk when I stumbled out of the village, barely able to stand on my own two feet, I kept glancing back at him to make sure he was still there. He was, every single time, with his new blanket slung across his shoulders.

And the next morning, when he gave me a rock he found at the river, I pretended not to care.

But the truth is, I kept it ever since.