Threshold

[Kage POV]
Italic & Astrix* marked text=spoken in Japanese

One afternoon, near the end of June, as the sun splintered through the thick canopy, casting me in mottled shadows, I sat cultivating my peace upon a flat, lichen-coated rock. The wind moved the trees, and life moved the dirt beneath while my thoughts flowed like the water in the brook nearby.

"Ahem," the wolf cleared his throat, breaking my meditation.

"How long have you been standing there?" I drawled, slowly opening my eyes, allowing them to readjust to the last bright show of the afternoon's dwindling light.

"Erm… 'bout half an hour," Nate shrugged, his shoulder disturbing the length of his blond hair.

"I didn't hear you."

The untidy position of his shirt over his chest meant he'd arrived in his Lupine form and since de-transitioned and donned clothes. Though he was challenged to find reasons not to spend time in his shifted form around me, he admirably maintained his boundaries. Once or twice, he'd mentioned having trouble shifting, such as the relenting curse of silver poisoning. "You should have roused me sooner." I uncrossed my legs and stretched, loosening up.

"No need. Just thought you'd wanna be home before dinner."

"It's not that late…" I chuckled dismissively. He was always worrying… but what if— "is it?" I quickly grabbed my canvas bag—

"Sure is. The days are longer now summer's—"

—springing from the rock, I hit the ground running, bag slung over my head, without my shirt and hair untied and took to the wind like unspun silk. Tardiness was a lack of discipline I could not abide. "Hurry, Nate," I demanded, bashful about the harsh gravel of my voice; I grimaced.

"Eh, General 'Yashi, what's the rush?" Nate mocked, easing my discomfort. He arrived at my side, jogging effortlessly. His leg wasn't hindering him that day.

"Dumplings," I'd promised Kenichi dumplings for dinner. If I didn't hurry back, I would be late for him coming home after his shift at the South-East gate. My seriousness, worry, and hurry crumbled like dry earth when a flourish of handsome laughter burst from Nate's toothy grin. His joy creased the smile lines in his cheeks, and the sound chimed through the wood like birdsong.

"Ha! Hayashi, you kill me," he slapped his chest, shaking his head.

"They're… Kenichi's favourite," I explained, unable to contain my amusement; I chuckled, too.

On the threshold of my humble unit, the wolf stilled and stalled. Ignorant of his loitering, I rushed inside, leaving the door agape. I slipped out of my sandals, hung up my bag, dressed in a clean shirt, and gathered the minced pork from the refrigerator before the shadow that remained in the doorway distracted me from my duties.

"Nate? Come in."

"I… I should go… get back to the Nest."

"Stay for dinner," Setting down the cool dish in my hand, I strayed away from the kitchen.

"I…" Nate's eyebrows turned down when he was frightened. His fear was always quiet. He wasn't quick to temper when the feeling claimed him. It froze him. Shrank him. Diminished the thing I liked most about him; the amber glow in his eyes would dull in the wake of the dark emotion. I couldn't place the reason for it. Though he had never set foot in my home before, it didn't warrant his level of resistance, surely not. Strolling tentatively, the few strides from the kitchen to the door closed our distance.

Looking up at him framed by the dark metal, I reiterated my wish gently. "Stay," I held out my hand, an offering of aid, an invite to come closer and be in my space with me. "Come inside. Stay for d—"

"—hell to pay if you're wrong, buddy! Can't get the size of them out of my head!" Kenichi's raucous voice boomed down the concrete corridor. Nate's hand flinched back from mine. "Hey, Nato-San, whatchya doin' here?" He planted his hand onto his shoulder and squeezed by, entering the unit. "Come for some dinner? Aniki, you still making dumplings, right?" Kenichi went about his post-work business as chaotically as usual. Perched on his bunk, he unlaced his boots and began shedding work gear. "Man, I'm starving; I could eat like ten of 'em all to myself!" He said, slapping his bare stomach before disappearing into the bathroom.

"Stay for dinner," I requested again, and this time I wasn't taking no for an answer and took a hold of Nate's hand with both of mine, "unless you don't li—"

"Yo, do we got any more a'that—"Kenichi's head poked out of the bathroom door. "'ey er, am I interrupting?*"

"Hei!" I hissed and jerked my head toward the bathroom, banishing him back inside. "Go count toothpicks.*" Sulkily, he disappeared, but I could hear him chuntering in our mother tongue as he washed up.

Cross-legged at the chabudai, damp and freshly showered, Kenichi poured Nate some tea. It'd taken around five minutes of calm coaxing to get Nate to enter. Promises that he was welcome, that no one would mind or know. I prepared our dinner—steamed three portions of pork and garlic dumplings, rice, and side dishes of spinach ohitashi and spicy bean sprouts—I offered reassuring smiles as often as I could. Nate relaxed in that he talked idly about returning to work with Kenichi. While we ate, he silently and curiously observed our customs and failed adorably to use the chopsticks provided. I hadn't meant to embarrass him, but eventually, he leant over and sheepishly asked for a folk.

Thankfully, Kenichi ate quicker than usual. He grabbed his jacket and was about to head out of the door…

"Take your bag with you,*" I ordered.

Obediently, he did. Then, bid us a goodnight and dashed out the door. Casually lying when he promised to do the dishes the next day.

"Looks like he'll be spending the night with Juniper,"

"What makes you say that?"

"He took his backpack. Would you like a beer?"